The cell was small. Cold. Nothing but concrete walls, a flickering light, and the stink of piss and metal.
Nova sat in the corner, hoodie pulled over her head, arms wrapped around her knees. Her fingers shook, not from fear, but from rage, from regret, from the unbearable weight sitting on her chest.
She didn't cry loud. She never had. But the tears came anyway.
"Mama..."
She'd gotten so close. One kidney cooling in her bag. One promise left behind to a girl who reminded her of herself, fragile, hopeful, on the edge of death.
And now she'd never see her mom again.
She wiped her face roughly, pressing her head back against the wall. The chip still pulsed under her skin. She didn't know what it was yet, but she could feel it, like it was watching. Waiting.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Heavy boots. Steel doors buzzed open.
"Cross. Let's go."
She didn't fight it. Didn't cuss. Just stood slow, like her soul weighed more than her body now.
Two armed guards flanked her, silent as statues, and marched her down the corridors of Sector 7 Detainment. Prisoners watched from their cells, some hollered, some whispered.
"Dead girl walking..."
They reached the chamber.
The courtroom was unreal. High-tech screens hovered in the air like glass ghosts, projecting her face, her crimes, her sentence. Holographic judges loomed in crimson robes, their faces hidden by digital static.
A booming voice echoed across the chamber.
"Nova Cross. Age 19. Charged with Class-A theft of medical property.. Assault and battery and destruction of federal property. Your sentence..."
She stood tall.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't speak.
She had nothing left to say.
"...you will fight, in Vault-0."
Gasps rippled through the lower courtroom. One of the guards even twitched.
"You will be transported immediately. No visitation. No appeal. May the ice show you mercy. Court adjourned."
Nova blinked once.
Vault-0.
The name she'd only heard whispered in the streets. A brutal and deadly gladiator themed hockey game that everyone raved about, yet everyone feared. The place where nobody came back from.The guards grabbed her arms. Cuffed her tighter. Led her through the exit as the light from the court screens faded behind her.
The transport van smelled like rust and sweat. Chains rattled with every bump in the road. No windows. Just metal. Cold and quiet. Nova sat shackled to the bench, ankles and wrists bound. A muzzle across her mouth like she was some wild thing. She didn't fight it though. Not anymore. They already took everything.
Two guards sat across from her. No one spoke. Just the hum of the engine and the faint buzz of the chip under her skin.
She stared down at her wrist where the shackle dug in, feeling the faint pulse beneath. That chip... whatever it was, it hadn't stopped thrumming since she stole it. Like it was alive. Like it was waiting for something.
Her stomach twisted.
She had to admit she was scared.She was facing potential death which she was sure on her part, was certain. These were ruthless criminals she was about to face. People who were used to murder and the hard life. She had a hard life, but not this dang hard. Not to mention her mother, would she ever see her again?
She didn't know what Vault-0 even looked like. Just the stories, deadly self made weapons, blood on the ice, killers in skates, people cheering as bodies dropped like flies. A place where people weren't inmates anymore. They were weapons.
Suddenly, the vehicle jerked to a stop.The back doors hissed open, cold air blasting her face. The guards yanked her forward.
Nova stepped out into a frozen world bathed in artificial neon. Towering gates, cameras on every inch of the sky, and the sound of skates carving through metal ice in the distance.
Vault-0.
Steel doors opened ahead, leading into what looked like a damn spaceship. A voice echoed over an intercom, cold and robotic.
"New inmate arrival. Nova Cross. Tag her. Process her. Drop her in the pit."
A woman in a white coat with chrome implants across her face stepped forward, holding a scanner. She raised an eyebrow at Nova like she was studying a piece of meat.
"Pretty girl, you don't look so bad to me," she muttered, scanning her chest and eyes. The machine beeped.
"She won't survive long," the guard scoffed as he shoved her through the next gate.
A giant screen lit up above them. Her face appeared. Her name. Her new number.
#047 - Nova Cross. Status: Unranked.
Then the voice came back:
"Welcome to Vault-0. Skate hard. Kill fast. Survive... if you can. Fight For yYour Freedom!"
Nova looked up at the gate as it closed behind her. Fight for your freedom? Does that mean there was a chance of getting out of this place? Before the thought could settle, she was yanked forward again, this time toward a massive sliding wall. It opened with a hiss, revealing something that made her freeze.
The Rink.
It stretched out like a frozen war zone, glass slick and glowing under blinding white lights. Blood smeared across the ice. Crushed helmets, broken sticks, and bodies being dragged off by drones.
A crowd roared above in steel balconies, faces hidden behind riot glass and masks, placing bets on lives like chips at a casino.
Nova's guard chuckled behind her. "Look real close, sweetheart. This is where your nightmares come to skate."
Two players were still out there. One bleeding from the mouth, dragging a leg. The other, a massive dude in jagged black armor, rushed him with blades fixed to his skates. He launched off the wall, spun, and...
SLASH!
The crowd erupted as the smaller player collapsed, neck opened like a watermelon.
Nova flinched. She was mortified.
This wasn't just prison. This was the show. And she was about to be prime time. Prime rib time.
The intercom crackled again.
"Unranked blood match over. Winner: #013 'Butcher' , Kill count: 23. New weapon unlocked."
Nova swallowed thick.
The doors closed. The guards started to lead her away, down toward the holding cells. The screams, the cheers, the buzzing blades on ice, they stayed in her ears.
And her heartbeat?
Racing. How in the hell was she supposed to beat that?
They took her to the holding cells and shoved her back there leaving her alone. She felt vulnerable and truly scared for the first time ever in her life.
Nova made her way down the cold, metallic corridor, the faint echo of her footsteps cutting through the silence. The walls were harsh, gray, and uninviting, just like everything in Vault-0. As she passed each cell, the murmurs of the other prisoners barely registered in her mind. They were all just faces, just bodies waiting for their chance to kill or be killed.
But then, as she rounded a corner, she froze.
The massive figure of Butcher was walking towards her, his hulking form blocking most of the hallway. His wide shoulders brushed against the walls as he moved with a casual menace, his boot steps so heavy they vibrated through the floor.
He was carrying his signature weapon, a jagged, blood-stained blade strapped to his back, like it had never been cleaned. His body was covered in tattoos of skulls, blood, and chains, a grotesque map of death. His hair was shaved close to the scalp, and his face looked like it had never seen a soft smile, only cold, angry scowls.
As he looked up and saw Nova, a wicked grin spread across his face, eyes narrowing in obvious, predatory recognition.
"Well, well..." Butcher's voice was like gravel being ground beneath a boot. His lips curled into a leer, and he leaned forward just slightly, as if sizing her up like fresh meat. "I'm guessing you're new here, huh?" His gaze ran over her, taking in the way her leather jacket clung to her frame, the fire in her eyes. It didn't faze him. "Not bad. I like 'em feisty. Makes the kill more... satisfying."
Nova didn't flinch. She met his gaze dead-on, trying to remain unfazed by the looming figure of the man in front of her.
"I'm not here for you, I'm on my way to my cell, so get out my way aight," she said, her voice low but firm.
Butcher chuckled darkly, his laugh rattling like a chainsaw about to start. "Is that so? You think you can handle this place, sweetheart? I ain't so sure." He took a step forward, his boots clicking on the concrete floor like a death sentence.
Nova's heart raced, but she refused to back down. "I don't need your approval, or your pity," she snapped.
Butcher's eyes gleamed with amusement, but there was no humor in them, only a cold, calculating rage. "Oh, you'll learn soon enough," he said. He stopped right in front of her, his towering form almost blocking the light, casting a shadow over her. His nostrils flared as he sniffed the air like a predator sensing weakness.
"People like you... fresh, weak, thinking they're tough enough... you're all the same. I'll enjoy watching you try to survive your first match. And when you falter, I'll be the one to finish you."
With a final, menacing look, he turned and walked past her, his massive shoulders brushing against hers as he moved. The scent of sweat, blood, and death seemed to follow him like a dark cloud.
Nova watched him go, her fists clenched at her sides. She was a little shaken by the encounter, but she wasn't about to show it. Butcher was nothing more than a beast in the cage, but she couldn't help but be afraid just a little.
Nova leaned against the cold, metal wall of her cell, arms crossed, her mind spinning. The first day in Vault-0 had been... a lot. She still couldn't wrap her head around how she ended up in this place. It wasn't just the fighters here, she'd dealt with worse, but it was the way they looked at you. Like you were just a damn number.
A voice broke through her thoughts, low and nonchalant. "So, the new girl finally came to her senses, huh? Had to sort those thoughts?"
Nova turned slowly, keeping her expression neutral. She wasn't ready to show weakness yet, not even a little. The girl across from her had pale skin,long dark red hair, black lipstick, and eyes that seemed to see right through her. She was leaning against the bars, arms casually folded.
"And you are?" Nova asked, her voice smooth, but there was a tightness underneath.
"Vera," the girl said with a lazy shrug, her dark eyes scanning Nova like she was some kind of puzzle. "First day? Yeah, it sucks. But we all gotta go through it."
Nova narrowed her eyes. "Not my first rodeo."
Vera smirked, pushing herself off the bars. "Yeah, I can tell. You've got that look. The kind that says you might actually survive here. But listen... this place? It'll eat you alive if you don't play it smart. The other players? They won't tell you anything useful. You'd think they'll share the weapons forge with you? But nah. They like watching people like you get slaughtered ike a mouse in a cat cage."
Nova let that sit for a moment, her gaze shifting.
"Weapons forge?," Nova said slowly, shifting her weight. "What's that?"
Vera eyed her for a moment before she nodded, like she'd sized Nova up and found her acceptable. " The place where everyone forges their weapons. You won't survive a minute out there without something to protect yourself. Come on, I'll show you.
Nova's eyebrows shot up at that. "And why are you helpin' me?"
" Because I still have a fucking heart."
I paused a minute thinking on that.
" Forge you say?"
Vera's grin was dry as she led the way. "Yeah. You forge your weapons in here. And trust me, you're gonna want the right tools. A basic knife won't do shit. You'll need something... special."
Nova followed Vera cautiously through the dark corridors of Vault-0, the sounds of distant screams and violence echoing through the walls. She wasn't exactly trust her yet. I mean this place was ice. It was cold. Too cold. And it felt like the walls were closing in with every step. So the people had to be the same, unless proven otherwise.
Vera led her into a dimly lit room, filled with the clatter of metal and the hiss of a forge. The air was thick with the smell of oil and molten metal. Weapons of all kinds hung on the walls, mods scattered everywhere and blueprints cluttered every surface.
"Welcome to the forge," Vera said, her voice matter-of-fact. "If you want a good weapon to fit your needs, this is where you'll do it. Trust me, I know I sound like an advertisement but you're gonna need something to suit you, not just whatever they hand you."
Nova took a deep breath, eyes scanning the room. She did need something. But what?
Vera studied her for a moment before speaking again. "You've got something in mind?" Her voice was casual, but there was a knowing edge to it. "I may not know exactly how it will work, but I could help you out."
Nova didn't say anything at first. She was still weighing her options, her mind running through all the ways she could use these things to her advantage in this hellhole.
After a moment, she shook her head. "Nah. I can manage on my own." Afterall, as friendly as she was, Vera would be an opponent as well. Plus She couldn't trust her. Not yet.
Vera's eyes gleamed with approval. "Smart choice. But you're gonna need a backup. Something for close combat. So pick a weapon."
Nova walked over to a shelf lined with sharp tools and weapons. She grabbed a sleek, curved knife, light but deadly, and tested its weight in her hand. It felt right. She'd use it when she couldn't keep the distance.
Vera watched her with mild interest, then gestured toward the forge. "You'll need to melt down a few things and mold your weapons yourself. You don't want something flimsy or weak. It's gotta be sharp enough to cut through anything."
Nova nodded, her expression serious. "Right."
Vera shrugged. "Then get to work. You won't last long without a weapon that's made to kill."
Nova moved to the forge, her focus sharpening. The heat from the molten metal was almost unbearable, but she didn't flinch. Her hands worked quickly, molding her blade as she'd done in times before in the comfort of her own home. The glow of the forge reflected in her eyes as the blade took shape, sharp and deadly. She couldn't afford to make mistakes, not now, not here.
Once it was forged, she took a step back, admiring her work. It was perfect, thin as paper but sharp as glass, and with just the right weight to it.
"You're good at this," Vera said, watching her with a mixture of curiosity and approval. "But don't get too comfortable. Tomorrow's your first real test. Make sure you're ready for it."
Nova wasn't sure if she was ready for anything. But she had no choice. She was in this fight whether she liked it or not.
"I'll be ready," she said, her voice low. "And if anyone gets in my way..." She paused, her lips curling into a dark smile. "They'll regret it."
Vera gave her a rare, amused smirk. "I like that. Good luck, Nova."
She waited until Vera left to finish the rest. Then with her weapons forged, Nova left the forge, the weight of her new tools comforting her. She didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but she was done being anyone's prey. In Vault-0, you either killed or got killed.