High Tea & High Stakes

Miyuu leaned back against the cold, slightly sticky wall of her holding cell, sipping the iced tea Natsuki had managed to smuggle in during her two-minute “visit.” Bolts had hovered in the doorway, arms crossed, looking like he was ready to bodily haul Natsuki out if she stayed too long.

“I’ll keep an eye on her while you’re in the pit.” He had said. Apparently, Bolts didn’t trust the crowd to leave Natsuki alone without her self-appointed “guard dog”—which, as he so eloquently put it, was apparently Miyuu. The arena’s outer corridors weren’t exactly a haven of morality, and Bolts had made it abundantly clear he wasn’t a fan of leaving Natsuki to fend off the assorted unsavoury types loitering around.

Miyuu wasn’t entirely sure Natsuki needed that much protecting. After the frog army theatrics from the last fight, it was clear that Natsuki had more tricks up her sleeve than she let on. Still, Miyuu was relieved she wasn’t wandering around alone.

She glanced at the clock. They were still good on time, but if she wanted to beat the student council back to the manor, she’d need to wrap up this final fight quickly. No pressure or anything.

K.A.T.O. padded silently behind her as they made their way to the pit. She wasn’t sure what she expected to see when she entered, but the massive figure waiting in the arena made it clear that this wasn’t going to be an easy fight.

Missing her next opponent was flat out impossible. Even if you closed your eyes, turned around, and put your hands over your ears, you’d still feel its presence. It was massive.

“Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves!” One of the announcer bots crackled. “Returning to the Circuit Pit, the undefeated prince of destruction! Winner of the previous round with an overpowering victory, the crowd favourite—Level 4, LaMontagne Kaoru! And his magnificent bot Grand Écrasant!”

The crowd exploded into cheers and chants so loud it felt like a physical force, pressing down on the arena. The noise was almost as oppressive as the bot standing on the other side of the pit. Miyuu could barely hear herself think over the chaos, but one thing was clear: this guy was the crowd’s golden boy.

Level 4? Miyuu’s thoughts snagged on that detail. She thought this tournament was supposed to be for SEEDs and maybe a sprinkling of low-level twos —the kind of people who were clawing their way up the XP ladder. What was this guy doing here? Shouldn’t he be lounging in the VIP section, sipping overpriced imported lattes while tossing smug commentary at the desperate plebs scrambling for scraps?

Grand Écrasant’s chrome plating caught the arena lights, magnified them, and shot the glare into the stands. Miyuu squinted, shielding her eyes with one hand, as the announcer bots frantically handed out complimentary sunglasses to the audience. Safety first, apparently.

Its face was humanoid—sort of. He had high cheekbones, a pointed chin, diamond studded eyes, and a large metallic moustache that curled up at the ends.

The rest of its frame was broad with a chest plate that jutted outward like armour, balanced by long, defined limbs. The proportions were almost human but exaggerated. Shoulders too wide, arms too bulky, legs too thick.

As if that weren’t enough, the bot was better dressed than she was. A white sleeveless tuxedo shirt, a gold waistcoat, and a crisp bow tie. Giving it the appearance of a butler who could serve hors d’oeuvres with one hand while choke-slamming someone into next week with the other

Despite its size, Grand Écrasant didn’t stutter like you’d expect from something so massive. Its size and bulk belied the human-like grace of its motions. No jerky, clunky robot nonsense here. This was precision engineering at its finest, the kind that came with a jaw-dropping price tag. Miyuu could practically smell the obscene amount Kaoru must have poured into this thing. It was custom designed, professionally engineered and loaded with enough upgrades to rival the GDP of a small country. Kauro was pioneering rich kid overcompensation.

Miyuu exhaled slowly, forcing herself to shift her focus away from the glittering butler-bot and towards Kaoru himself. He was riding shotgun atop Grand Écrasant’s shoulder, perfectly composed, like some kind of fashion-forward parrot in a pink luxury suit. He took a dainty sip from a porcelain teacup, pinky raised, while one of the bot’s retractable arms casually extended to serve him a slice of cake on a silver platter. Cake. In an electrified battle pit.

With a graceful bow, Grand Écrasant bent down to lower Kaoru to the ground. As his feet touched solid ground, Kaoru flicked his long, styled curls over his shoulder. He probably practiced the move in front of a mirror. Twice daily.

He didn’t even glance at Miyuu, instead turning his full attention to the roaring crowd. He waved grandly, soaking in the applause like it was oxygen, and even added a slight bow for flair. It was all very look at me, I’m fabulous, and judging by the crowd’s reaction, they were eating it up.

“The cake is exquisite. You’ve outdone yourself again Grand Écrasant.” He took a bite of his cake before handing the remains to the bot, which plucked it up with a pair of retractable tongs and stowed it in a mini-fridge compartment built into its left arm.

“I strive for nothing less than perfection, sir.” Grand Écrasant replied in a deep, elegant voice.

“I’ll have another slice after battle, I’m sure it will taste much sweeter after we turn our opponent into scrap.”

“Very astute, sir.” Grand Écrasant agreed, twirling the edge of his moustache. “I shall ensure it is perfectly frosted and ready to accompany your inevitable success.”

Kaoru finally turned his attention to Miyuu, as if he’d only just noticed she existed. His eyes swept over her in a way that made her want to double-check if she had spinach in her teeth.

“It’s such a shame we meet under these circumstances.” He began. “But alas, the Circuit Pit is a place where even lowly SEEDs like you can dare to dream of challenging greatness such as mine.”

Miyuu stared at him, unimpressed. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she began mentally cataloguing all the ways she could punch that smug expression off his face. She started with the fastest option and worked her way down to the most satisfying.

Kaoru, blissfully unaware of her increasingly violent train of thought, kept talking. “I wasn’t even planning to participate today, you know. I had far more important things to do.” He paused, his grin stretching wider. “But then—” he practically lit up with glee, “—this fabulous upgraded program was delivered to me this morning. Naturally, I couldn’t resist testing it. And, well, I couldn’t disappoint my adoring fans now, could I?”

He threw another dazzling smile to the crowd, accompanied by a wink and a wave. The audience lost their collective minds, screaming like he’d just announced free merchandise for everyone.

Miyuu blinked at him, blank-faced and borderline grateful when the announcer bots cut in, sparing her the effort of pretending to care.

“And now, for those who missed it!” The red announcer bot boomed. “Let’s welcome back the challenger, the black sheep SEED, Tsukishima Miyuu and her only friend, K.A.T.O!”

Miyuu’s eye twitched. She thought that last bit was wildly unnecessary but decided to let it slide. For now.

As they droned on about odds and placing bets, Miyuu tuned them out, her focus snapping to Grand Écrasant. And what she saw was... not good.

Its diamond-studded eyes flickered. The LEDs beneath them changed from a steady yellow to flashing between yellow and red. The bot jerked before freezing entirely, standing stock-still as if it had just hit a critical error. It didn’t move. It just stood there, vibrating faintly like it was trying—and failing—to reboot itself.

A distorted voice crackled from its speakers, repeating her name on a loop. “Tsukishima… Mi-yuu… Tsuki- Tsukishima…” The sound crawled under her skin, in a way that made her want to claw it out of her ears.

Miyuu’s hands clenched. “Okay…” She muttered to no one in particular. “That’s officially creepy.”

She was pretty sure, this wasn’t normal behaviour for something so high-tech. Either Kaoru expected this (and wasn’t letting on), or he was too busy basking in his own fabulousness to notice.

The ground beneath her feet rippled, dragging her attention away from the unsettling scene as the terrain shifted.

The arena floor melted into a vast desert, the sand piling into thick dunes. Tall palm trees sprouted along the edges of the pit, swaying in a growing wind. Boulders appeared at random, dotting the battlefield.

Then the wind hit.

A stinging gust whipped through the pit, hurling sand into the air and turning the world into a swirling haze of beige misery. Miyuu coughed, lifting a hand to shield her eyes.

“Perfect.” She muttered. “Just what I needed. Sand in my shoes.” She kicked at the ground, trying to dislodge the grit already invading her Mary Janes. It didn’t help.

“I told you something was bound to go wrong.” K.A.T.O. grumbled, his ears flattened against his head.

“This is not the time for I-told-you-so’s.” Miyuu shot back, rolling her eyes.

Overhead, the announcer bots crackled to life again.

“Three… two… one…”

The buzzer blared, sharp and shrill, signalling the start of her final fight.

Kaoru didn’t waste a second. “Grand Écrasant!” He barked, pointing a manicured finger at Miyuu and K.A.T.O. “Crush them. And make it fast—this sand is bad for my skin.”

But the butler-bot didn’t move.

Kaoru froze mid-sip, his teacup hovering just shy of his lips. “Grand Écrasant?” He snapped. “What are you doing? Stop standing there and attack!”

“Yes, M-master.” The bot replied, the words fragmented and slurred, like something was jamming its circuits.

Kaoru lowered his teacup slowly, his irritation mounting. “What is this nonsense? I didn’t spend all that money for you to hesitate. Attack!” He ordered.

Grand Écrasant lurched forward in fits and starts. Its eyes, which had been flashing erratically, finally settled into a bright red glow. Miyuu didn’t need K.A.T.O. to tell her this was not a good sign.

She took a cautious step back, her foot sinking into the sand.

“Uh, K.A.T.O.?” She muttered, not taking her eyes off the bot.

“Yeah, I see it.” K.A.T.O. replied through their comms. “This isn’t a programming glitch. This is… something else.”

Before Miyuu could ask what “something else” meant, Grand Écrasant’s head snapped toward her. Its eyes narrowed and targeting lasers locked onto her.

“Eliminate Tsukishima Miyuu.” The bot growled.

Miyuu’s stomach dropped. Oh. Great. So it was personal.

“Cool. Good to know I’m special.” She muttered.

The metal plating on Grand Écrasant’s thick legs rotated open, revealing neatly arranged lines of missiles. What in the name of overpriced engineering did Kaoru need missiles for? This was exactly why too much XP and no common sense was a bad combination.

Its arms followed suit, the once-dainty white gloves peeled back to unveil twin-mounted machine guns, the barrels were already spinning up.

And then it lunged.

Miyuu didn’t think—thinking was for people who weren’t about to become ground zero. She threw herself to the side, barely registering the explosion as the spot she’d just been standing in erupted into a geyser of sand and shrapnel.

A stray rock, flung skyward by the blast, decided to embrace its destiny as an agent of chaos. It arced through the air and nailed Kaoru squarely between the eyes. He crumpled instantly, collapsing into an undignified heap of unconscious pink luxury satin. His teacup followed, toppling into the sand with a small, heartbreaking clink. A tragic end for both tea and ego.

“Guess the universe had the same idea I did.” Miyuu muttered, scrambling for cover as Grand Écrasant’s targeting lasers snapped back onto her.

“K.A.T.O.” She hissed through gritted teeth, her eyes locked on the war machine currently doing its best to end her existence. “Tell me you have a plan.”

“I was kind of hoping you did.” K.A.T.O. shot back.

Another barrage of bullets rained down, chewing into the boulder she’d just ducked behind.

“Working on it.” K.A.T.O. added, a little more urgently now.

“Yeah, me too.” She snapped, darting to the next piece of cover as missiles streaked past her. They slammed into the adaptive projection grid’s border, sending shockwaves through the pit as everything pixelated and glitched in protest.

The terrain rippled in and out of focus, briefly revealing the metal framework beneath the desert illusion before snapping back.

“Great.” Miyuu muttered, sweat dripping down her temple. “If the homicidal butler-bot doesn’t kill me, the collapsing simulation probably will.”

“Optimistic as always.” K.A.T.O. noted dryly.

Missiles streaked past her again, close enough that she swore she felt the heat singe her sleeve. She hit the ground rolling, the sand clinging to her like a second skin.

For a moment, as she crouched behind a battered boulder, her eyes flicked to K.A.T.O., clinging to her shoulder.

The butler-bot was relentless, its attacks turning the arena into a war zone, she didn’t have the luxury to stop and think: should she transfer K.A.T.O back into her wrist node?

What if something happened—something worse than this—and she couldn’t tuck him away fast enough? The thought of losing K.A.T.O., of his consciousness being damaged or destroyed, sent a cold, nauseating weight into her stomach. The idea was unbearable.

But… K.A.T.O.’s stuffed animal form had weapons. Without him, she’d basically be reduced to sprinting around the arena, dodging until she either collapsed or got flattened. She couldn’t count on help, not with the announcer bots cheerfully narrating this deathmatch like it was all part of the show.

“K.A.T.O.,” she said, her voice wavering. “Can you try infiltrating its systems? Figure out what’s wrong with it before it turns us into confetti?”

“I was already considering it.” K.A.T.O. replied. “But I won’t be able to move when I interface with its systems.”

Miyuu peeked around the edge of the boulder. Grand Écrasant was pacing the arena like a predator, its targeting lasers flicking over their position. “So, I need to babysit you while dodging that thing. Sounds easy.”

“We don’t exactly have better options.” K.A.T.O. pointed out. “If I can figure out its systems, we might find a way to stop it.”

Miyuu exhaled sharply, forcing herself to shove down the panic clawing at her throat. “Alright. Let’s try it.”

K.A.T.O. leapt from her shoulder, landing lightly on the sand. “You distract it, I’ll work my magic.”

“Distract it?” Miyuu stared at him, incredulous. “That’s literally the only thing I’ve been doing this whole time!”

K.A.T.O. ignored her. His eyes began to glow as he initiated whatever tech wizardry he had planned.

Miyuu stepped out from behind the boulder, cradling K.A.T.O. in her arms. The moment she moved, Grand Écrasant’s targeting lasers snapped onto her.

“Guess I’ll just keep being the human decoy.” she muttered, bracing herself.

And then she ran.

Zigzagging across the battlefield, she darted between dunes and boulders, doing her best to keep ahead of the relentless hail of bullets and missiles.

The sand was absolutely not helping. It clung to her shoes, dragging her steps down. She begrudgingly admitted that the Student Council’s sadistic jogging sessions were probably the only reason she hadn’t already collapsed face-first into the sand.

Explosions ripped through the battlefield, sending geysers of sand and debris into the air. Every shockwave rattled her teeth and made her knees wobble. She stumbled, caught herself, and kept moving, because stopping wasn’t an option.

A bullet grazed her calf, leaving a sharp sting in its wake. She didn’t stop. Pain could file a formal complaint later.

The adaptive grid environment was falling apart faster than her nerves. Pixels were floating through the air, while entire areas flickered and went bare. It was on its last legs, and so was she.

“Anytime now, K.A.T.O.!” She hissed, breathless, sand-coated, and teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic spiral. No response. Of course not. He was still too deep in his techno-meditation to offer her any words of encouragement or, you know, a progress update.

Meanwhile, Grand Écrasant showed no signs of needing a break. If anything, it was escalating. It paused briefly, and for one delusional second, Miyuu thought maybe—just maybe—it was powering down.

It wasn’t. It was reloading. No—worse. It was 3D printing its own ammo.

“Oh, come on!” Miyuu yelled, throwing herself to the ground just as the next set of missiles launched. They streaked through the air, slamming into the adaptive grid’s borders. The entire arena shuddered, the grid flickering one final time before collapsing.

The desert dissolved in streams of pixelation, leaving behind a jagged wasteland of twisted metal and exposed framework. Miyuu pushed herself to her feet, brushing sand off her arms (pointless) and scanning the battlefield for cover. There was none. The boulders, the dunes, every remotely helpful piece of terrain—it was all gone.

“Fantastic. Just perfect.” She muttered, the pounding of her pulse in her ears drowning out the distant cheering of the idiots in the spectator seats.

Grand Écrasant stepped forward, its bulk rattling the unstable floor. Sparks danced along the edges of the broken grid. Its machine guns began to spin again, their whir confirming that “peaceful negotiations” were, in fact, not on the agenda.

Miyuu clutched K.A.T.O. tighter, her eyes darting frantically for an opening, a distraction—anything. there was nothing. She was out in the open, with zero options, and K.A.T.O. was still locked in his silent glow-eyed state, presumably hacking Grand Écrasant’s systems. Or maybe playing Tetris. At this point, who knew?

The bot raised its arms, its entire arsenal aimed squarely at her.

The announcer bots chimed in at that exact moment, because they apparently thought her demise needed colour commentary. Their overly chipper voices clashed painfully with the whole about-to-die-horribly vibe she was currently stuck in.

“Wow! What an electrifying turn of events!”

“Quite literally, Red!” The green bot added. “Let’s remind our audience that the Circuit Pit takes absolutely no responsibility for collateral damage, emotional trauma, or severe injuries!”

“Or death!” The red bot added brightly.

“Or death.” The green bot agreed.