Chapter 34 · Iron Arena - Chapter 34: Iron Doesn't Kneel

The neural burn hit like a blade through my skull.

I could feel Cole's sync spiking on the other end of the link—irregular, jagged, way past safe threshold. The calibration feed was still live across every screen in the city. Everyone could see our numbers. Mine climbing. His breaking apart.

"Lila, drop it." His voice came through static and pain. "You don't need to see this."

But I already saw it.

The memory wasn't mine. It was his. Three years ago, the last match he ever fought. The crowd screaming his name. The mech's core burning white-hot in his chest because he pushed the sync rate past human limit. And then the moment it cracked—not the machine, him. Neural pathways frying. His hands shaking on the controls. The taste of blood in his mouth.

That's what the league did. They let pilots burn themselves out for ratings.

I tightened my grip on the control rig. My hands were slick with sweat. The mech lurched forward and I could feel its weight like it was my own body. The arena floor shook. Dust falling from the overhead lights.