Page 74 of Orange Tundra
This wasn't just gladiatorial combat. This was sanctioned rape as entertainment.
"The choice is yours, Silver Beast!" Nialla's voice joined her mate's, dripping with malicious glee. "Death or degradation! Either way, we get a show!"
My Silver Beast roared within its crystal prison, fury giving it strength to push against the Shura's barriers. This was why rival gangs had gathered—to witness not just violence, but sexual conquest. To bet on which fighters would be broken in the most humiliating ways possible.
And somewhere in this crowd of degenerates, my pack was watching.
The feral creature from Augrq studied me with the patient hunger of a predator that had never known anything but kill-or-be-killed existence. Foam dripped from its muzzle as electrical current from the collar kept it barely restrained.
"BEGIN!" Kilo screamed.
The collar's light went out.
What remained of the creature's sanity vanished with the electrical suppression. It launched itself at me with inhuman speed, claws extended, jaw distended to show rows of chemically-sharpened teeth.
I rolled aside, my crystallized arm screaming in protest as I hit the sand. The creature's momentum carried it past me, giving me precious seconds to assess its capabilities. Fast. Strong. Completely feral.
But still wearing that collar, which meant it could be controlled. Which meant it was as much a slave as I was.
The creature spun with fluid grace, fixing me with eyes that held no trace of intelligence or mercy. It had been conditioned to kill or be killed, with no concept of alternatives.
It lunged again, and this time I was ready.
Instead of avoiding the attack, I stepped into it, catching its extended arm with my functional hand. The impact drove us both to the sand, but I managed to twist its momentum against it, using leverage to slam its head against the arena floor.
The crowd's roar shifted from excitement to confusion. This wasn't the massacre they'd expected.
The creature writhed beneath me, trying to bring its claws to bear on my exposed torso. I could see the collar's control mechanisms now, a crude electronics that had been jury-rigged to suppress higher brain functions while leaving the predatory instincts intact.
One good strike would disable it. Free this poor bastard from whatever hell it had been trapped in.
I drove my elbow down on the collar's central processor. Sparks flew as the device shorted out, sending the creature into convulsions as its suppressed consciousness suddenly returned.
For a moment, intelligence flickered in its eyes. Recognition of where it was, what it had become. The horror of understanding crashed over its features like a physical blow.
Then it collapsed, unconscious from the neural shock of sudden freedom.
The arena fell silent.
I stood slowly, blood streaming from claw marks across my chest but victorious. My gaze found the royal box where Kilo sat in stunned disbelief.
"FINISH HIM!" Nialla screamed, her arousal clearly frustrated by the lack of degradation she'd been expecting. "THE RULES ARE CLEAR!"
But I didn't move toward the unconscious creature. Instead, I looked directly at the crowd of degenerates surrounding us.
"No," I said, my voice carrying clearly in the sudden silence.
The single word hit them like a slap. Murmurs rippled through the galleries. Confusion, anger, excitement at this unexpected development. But beneath it all, I caught something else.
Respect. From corners of the crowd where true warriors sat among the filth, appreciation for a fighter who refused to violate the defeated.
"KILL HIM OR CLAIM HIM!" Kilo roared, his composure cracking as his carefully orchestrated entertainment went off-script.
"NO," I repeated, louder this time.
Nialla was on her feet now, a electrified whip appearing in her hands. The weapon cracked across the arena with enough force to leave glowing scorch marks in the sand.
"Obey the rules, beast, or face the consequences!"
