The revelation hung heavy in the air long after Lynel and Voss had left the docking bay. Luka stood there, hands on his hips, staring at Vigil as if the machine itself held the answers to the swirling questions in his mind.
The tournament wasn't just a competition—it was a hunt for something connected to the Aether, and now Luka and Kaela were caught in the middle of it.
Kaela paced beside him, her movements tight, tense. Her usual calm exterior was cracking, just slightly, but Luka could see how deep the revelation had affected her.
"They're using us," she muttered, stopping mid-stride and turning to face Luka. "We're part of their experiment."
Luka looked over at her, his brow furrowed.
"Yeah. But we've been in worse situations before."Kaela's golden eyes narrowed.
"This is different, Luka. If they're really looking for a connection to the Aether—something that powerful—they'll stop at nothing to find it. And if they figure out that we have it…"She didn't need to finish.
Luka already understood. His mecha, Vigil, wasn't just any machine. It had a unique bond with the Aether, a bond that was evolving, growing stronger with each battle. And Kaela's draconic mecha—though its connection to the Aether was less obvious—was equally formidable.
If the tournament organizers knew what their machines were capable of, they would be prime targets.
"We don't have a choice," Luka said, his voice low. "We have to keep going. If we back out now, they'll know we're onto them. And we'll lose our chance to figure out what's really happening."Kaela crossed her arms, her gaze unwavering.
"You're right. But we need to play this smart. No more rushing in headfirst. We need information—something that gives us an edge."
Luka nodded, his mind already working through their next steps. "Agreed. Lynel and Voss know more than they're telling us, but we can't trust them completely. We'll have to play along with their 'truce' for now, but we need a backup plan."
Kaela's lips twitched into a smirk, the tension in her posture easing slightly. "Good. You're thinking like me now."
Luka chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, someone's got to keep up with you."They shared a brief moment of levity, the weight of the situation lifting just enough for them to remember why they were doing this—to uncover the truth, and to stay ahead of whatever forces were hunting them.
After a few minutes of silence, Kaela spoke again, her tone more thoughtful.
"We need to find someone on the inside. A source. There has to be someone in the tournament's organization who knows what's really going on."
Luka raised an eyebrow. "You think we can trust anyone here?"
Kaela's expression was serious. "We don't need to trust them. We just need to find someone who wants something in return. We're not the only ones in this tournament with our own agenda."
Luka considered her words. It was true—this place was filled with people from all corners of the galaxy, each with their own motivations, their own reasons for fighting.If they could find the right person, someone who had something to gain from helping them, they might be able to dig deeper into the tournament's true purpose.
"Let's head back to the main hub," Luka said after a moment. "We'll listen in, see what we can pick up. Someone's bound to let something slip."
Kaela nodded, and together they left the docking bay, making their way through the winding corridors of the station. The atmosphere here felt different now—thicker, more charged with tension.
Luka noticed how the other pilots and competitors seemed more guarded, their conversations hushed, their movements more cautious. Everyone was starting to realize that this tournament was more than just a game.
As they entered the main hub—a large, open area filled with traders, competitors, and onlookers—Luka scanned the crowd, searching for anything out of place. The neon lights flickered above, casting a strange glow over the faces of those gathered.
A handful of pilots stood near a bar, their voices low, their expressions grim. Others gathered around terminals, checking data and reviewing footage of previous matches.
Kaela gestured subtly toward a group of officials standing off to one side, their crisp uniforms marking them as tournament staff.
They were deep in conversation, their expressions serious, and Luka could see the way their eyes darted around, as if they were worried someone might overhear them