Camila

"Camila, there are five hostiles 600 feet out."

"I know. My HUD's got them. You're just trying to get on my nerves, Kamiya."

An Armor lunged from the east

—a Delta model, wielding dual curved energy scythes. It attempted an X-shaped execution strike, but Camila evaded by boosting upward, raining plasma fire onto its head.

"Your reflexes have improved from 2.30 milliseconds to 1.80," Kamiya announced.

Suddenly, another Armor ambushed her from the rear, ensnaring her with a plasma whip. A third leaped from a nearby rooftop, pinning her down.

(A coordinated pincer attack... It’s hard to believe AIs can replicate this so effectively.)

They were autonomous machines, yet they moved like a squad that had trained together for a lifetime. Camila slammed herself against a building wall; the structure crumbled, crushing the opponent holding her. 

In this game, destroying the head was the only way to win.

The energy whip disconnected during the collapse, sending the second attacker reeling. Camila seized the opening, finishing it with a precise headshot.

"Kamiya, where’s the fourth?"Something grabbed her ankle and dragged her down. It was an Armor that had used a drill-unit to tunnel beneath her."Damn... these AIs are becoming unpredictable. It’s like they learn from every loss."She fired a burst into her own leg unit to blast herself free, gaining a few precious milliseconds. As she fell, she ignited her arm-saw, bisecting the enemy’s head with a horizontal sweep.

⌬ VICTORY: 8 – 0 ⌬

A wide pop-up flooded her vision. Camila pulled off her AR headset and shook out her curly hair, messy from the equipment's straps."Give me the stats.""Reaction time is up by a few milliseconds. You’re still not at the nanosecond level of the pros."

"Hmph. Maybe in a year or two I'll hit picoseconds."Camila was stubborn—a trait likely inherited from her mother’s strict military upbringing. Though she wasn't as muscular or tall as other elite pilots, she made up for it with raw speed. To her, speed was strength.

She preferred close-quarters weapons, even when ranged attacks were safer. Some called it reckless, but her aerial control at high velocities gave her the edge. She reviewed her movements on Kamiya’s tablet, dissecting every flaw.

"Why do you come all the way here just for AR training?" Kamiya asked. "Don't you have a sim-room at the base?""The base sims don't simulate Zero Zone gravity."

This lab was strictly for Earth research. If Camila were caught, she’d face a court-martial for unauthorized use of military hardware. 'You kids don't know the difference between play and work,' she could already hear the brass growling.

The Encounter"You should get back to base," Kamiya said. "I don't need my superiors fighting with yours."Camila attempted to slip away unnoticed. Station Zero was a massive new construction, divided into six sectors. She was currently in Sector 4, overseen by Kamiya—a man who looked young but was a genius in robotic engineering. He was a primary architect of Zero Earth's Armors, though not by choice. In this world, if the government drafted you for war-tech, you either complied or went to prison.Kamiya loved the tech, but his heart belonged to baseball—a dream passed down by his father.

(How many guards are on this route?) Camila wondered, ghosting past cameras and patrols toward the teleporter. The unstable gravity made her pace erratic: fast, slow, then fast again. It felt like swimming through invisible waves.Suddenly, a door slid open, revealing a girl with long blue hair and piercing orange eyes. She looked like she hadn't slept in days. Her gaze was so intense Camila felt a sharp pang in her head—it felt like being judged.

The girl looked barely a year or two older than her. She walked past without saying a word.(Seriously? No ID check? Who is she?) Despite the relief, Camila couldn't shake the image of the girl. (Is she an intruder too?)The Iron HeartsShe finally reached the teleporter and returned to her team’s training grounds: the Iron Hearts. Her partners, Tom and Lilian, were taking a break."Hey, Camila. Training at Station Zero again?""I just like the feel of it better."She stowed her uniform and her Armor’s ignition key."Are you busy?" Tom asked. "I need help picking an upgrade for my unit.""I can't. I have dinner with my mother in a few hours."The wars had paused, and Armors were now treated like Formula 1 cars. Combat was a sport, played in arenas with paint instead of live rounds. Pilots who were once soldiers were now athletes.

"At least until the next war breaks out," Camila thought. If it did, she’d be sent straight back to the front.

Dinner with her mother was, as usual, a cold affair.

"You're late," her mother said flatly.

"I've been busy."

"I hope you haven't been wasting time with boys."

Camila had no interest in boys. Her only focus was the fight.Her mother finished first, tossed cash on the table for the bill, and left without another word, seemingly in a hurry.

That night, Camila slept in a hotel. Her mother had locked her out of the house and taken the car. It wasn't the first time she had been treated like a discarded object. She fell asleep dreaming of the day she would finally see her father again.......