Chapter 54 The Pits of the Alpha
While I fought the ghosts of my past in the upper levels, Killian was fighting for the survival of his soul in the pits below.
The “Training Grounds” were a series of sunken arenas, the walls lined with high-voltage emitters and cameras that recorded every drop of blood spilled on the sand.
Killian stood in the center of the main pit, his clothes reduced to rags, his body a map of fresh scars.
In front of him were three “Mk-II Ghost-Wolves”—massive, mechanical constructs of steel and fur that had been designed to mimic the fighting style of the Great Alphas.
“Is this all you have, Lilith?” Killian roared, his voice sounding more like a wolf’s than a man’s.
He couldn’t shift because the collar around his neck was a localized version of the dampening field but his strength was still that of a King.
“The test isn’t about strength, Killian,” Lilith’s voice echoed through the pit’s speakers.
She was watching from a glass-walled observation deck, sipping a cup of tea as if she were watching a theatrical performance.
“It’s about endurance. How long can a King stand when he realizes his kingdom is made of scrap metal?
”
The Mk-IIs lunged. They didn’t move with the unpredictability of living things; they moved with the perfection of an algorithm.
Killian caught the first one mid-air, his hands digging into the chrome plating of its throat, but the second one slammed into his ribs, the sound of breaking bone echoing in the silence of the arena.
Killian hit the sand, his vision blurring.
He looked up at the observation deck, and for a moment, he didn’t see Lilith.
He saw Elara, not as she was now, but as she had been the night of the rejection.
He saw the fire he had failed to protect.
“If you can’t be my Alpha, be my shield,” her voice whispered in his mind.
Killian’s hand closed around a jagged piece of shrapnel from a previous fight.
He didn’t wait for the third construct to strike.
He lunged, driving the metal spike into the exposed wiring of the machine’s chest. The Mk-II spasmed, sparks showering the sand, but Killian didn’t stop.
He tore the central processor from the construct’s head and threw it at the observation glass.
The glass didn’t break, but the impact left a web of cracks.
Lilith looked at the shattered display, her smile never fading.
“Magnificent,” she whispered. “He’s fighting the machine with the same savagery that built the First Dynasty.
Now, let’s see how he fights the children.
”
The side doors of the pit opened, and two small, hooded figures were led into the arena.