The tenth round of the Midterms was underway.

  Walter Adams stood at one end of the arena, rolling his shoulders as metal plating crawled over his body. Across from him, Daniel Fortuna casually shuffled a deck of cards, a pair of dice clicking softly in his palm.

  RefBot: Then let the tenth round of the Midterms—BEGIN!

  Walter didn’t hesitate.

  His helm snapped into place with a hydraulic hiss. Lines of light raced across his armor as his stance shifted, metal compacting and reforging around his limbs.

  Walter: Attack Form.

  He vanished.

  Not a blur—gone.

  The air detonated where he’d stood, asphalt exploding outward as Walter reappeared mid-strike, leg already swinging in a devastating kick aimed straight for Daniel’s ribs.

  Daniel didn’t move.

  He rolled a die.

  Six.

  Daniel: I’m gonna wager… two ribs.

  The kick landed.

  But instead of crushing Daniel’s torso, the force twisted unnaturally—sliding sideways as if reality itself had flinched. The ground beside him was torn apart, concrete ripping open in a violent trench.

  Daniel skidded backward on one heel, coughing, pain flaring through his chest—but his ribs held.

  Walter: What?!

  Walter was already moving again.

  An armored elbow came down. A knee followed. Then a punch. Then another. A relentless storm of steel.

  Daniel slipped between the blows by inches, his body snapping and twisting in ways that felt wrong—unnatural.

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  Daniel: My technique’s called Risk.

  Walter swung again.

  Daniel: I wager pieces of myself—time, flesh, luck—

  The gauntlet clipped Daniel’s jaw.

  He was sent skidding across the arena, tumbling before slamming into the far wall.

  Silence.

  Then Daniel stood.

  Unharmed.

  Daniel: And in return… reality rolls the dice.

  Walter clicked his tongue.

  Walter: Luck like that doesn’t last forever.

  His armor shifted again, slimming down, joints tightening, energy lines burning brighter.

  Walter: Speed Form!

  The world cracked.

  In less than a second Walter vanished and reappeared behind Daniel, knee already rising toward his spine.

  Daniel snapped his fingers.

  A card flared into existence—Ace of Spades—then vanished.

  He wagered three fingers.

  The world stuttered.

  Daniel ducked beneath the knee, slammed his shoulder into Walter’s abdomen, and drove an uppercut straight into his chestplate.

  Metal cracked.

  Walter spun with the momentum, converting it into a brutal backhand that sent Daniel crashing into the arena wall.

  Before Daniel could breathe, Walter was on him.

  Fists fell like artillery.

  Daniel crossed his arms.

  Daniel: The higher the risk—

  He conjured two dice and slammed them together.

  Daniel: The higher the payout.

  The air warped.

  A spectral roulette wheel spun behind Daniel as he pushed himself upright. Cards floated around him, flipping endlessly.

  Daniel: Maximum Technique… Rigged Fate.

  Every card turned.

  Ace.

  Ace.

  Ace.

  Daniel stepped forward.

  Daniel: I’ll wager… five years of my life.

  Walter threw a full-power punch.

  Daniel didn’t dodge.

  He met it.

  Their fists collided—

  And Walter’s armor failed.

  Not shattered.

  Not overwhelmed.

  It simply… lost.

  The impact slid past Daniel’s knuckles and detonated inside Walter’s chestplate. Metal screamed as energy rebounded inward.

  Walter staggered back.

  Green light surged.

  Walter: Defense Mode!

  Plates thickened and overlapped, armor expanding as it absorbed the backlash.

  Daniel exhaled slowly.

  Daniel: Guess it’s time to stop playing fair.

  He rushed in.

  Bare fists slammed into reinforced armor again and again—every strike landing at the worst possible angle. Joints. Seams. Stress points.

  Every hit should’ve failed.

  None of them did.

  Walter: Alright… I’m starting to get tired of you.

  Daniel smirked.

  Daniel: What’s wrong, Walt?

  Sounds like luck’s not on your side today.

  Walter roared.

  The armor erupted outward, reassembling violently into something massive—towering, brutal, unstoppable.

  Walter: Titan Mode!

  The ground buckled as Walter brought his fist down.

  Daniel didn’t move.

  He flipped a coin.

  Daniel: Maximum Probability… Jackpot’s Reckoning.

  The sky fractured.

  Spinning dice rained down alongside burning cards as every probability collapsed inward.

  Daniel leapt, smiling wide.

  Daniel: I wager everything.

  For one heartbeat, gravity, mass, and logic surrendered.

  His punch landed.

  Not on the armor—

  —but on the chance that Walter survived.

  The titan froze.

  Cracks raced across its massive frame as if fate itself had been struck. The armor disintegrated in a violent cascade of steel.

  Walter collapsed.

  Silence.

  Daniel landed hard, blood trickling from his mouth as his dice finally stopped rolling.

  RefBot hovered down, scanning both fighters.

  RefBot: The results of the tenth round are—

  Walter and Daniel: WAIT!

  Both men pushed themselves upright.

  Walter: I’m not done yet.

  Daniel chuckled weakly.

  Daniel: Heh… and my probability time’s up.

  Just my luck.

  Walter’s armor reformed—but this time it was incomplete, plates cracked and misaligned.

  Walter: Guess you finally ran out of luck.

  Daniel fanned his cards.

  Daniel: Then let’s go out with a bang.

  RefBot paused, optics flickering.

  RefBot: Both combatants remain willing and able.

  The tenth round of the Midterms will CONTINUE!

  The arena trembled.

  End Chapter