Chasing Ghosts

D-Mo sat alone in the cracked shell of a forgotten stadium, a single cartridge dancing across her knuckles with quick precision.

The seats around her were rusted, split at the seams—ghosts of a time when humans still cared about sports. That era was long dead, and this place was on borrowed time. Soon, it would be demolished to make space for the contemporary.

If things went sideways tonight, at least she took comfort in knowing this piece of history would've been gone either way.

Her visor flickered. Orion was calling.

"Hey, D-Mo…" Orion's voice filtered through the comms, barely above a whisper. "There's still time to walk away, you know?"

One soft beep. No.

He sighed, the sound laced with a kind of reluctant respect. "Yeah. Figured."

A pause.

"I still can't wrap my head around how you survived using that Enchanter cartridge. I don't think it was luck—but I don't think it was healthy, either." His voice shifted, more concerned now. "I know you kept a few from M-NK. If things go south in there… don't get clever. If you're so keen on using those—use them to escape."

Silence.

Orion exhaled hard. "Alright. Best-case scenario? They send in a law-enforcer S.C.U, we crack it open, and get our ticket to their database. Provided you can pacify it."

Two upbeat beeps.

Orion chuckled, warmth bleeding into his voice. "Yeah, yeah. You're strong. I know.

A moment passed in silence.

"I'm lucky I met you, D-Mo. And hey—don't worry. We'll find Milton. One way or another. Then you can finally give him that long overdue punch."

He hesitated, then added with a grin she could practically feel: "Or… a hug? Honestly, with you, it could go either way."

D-Mo replied with another double-beep.

Orion blinked. "Wait. Does that mean both? I—hold on. Got something."

His voice sharpened, suddenly alert. "Hovercraft incoming—closing in fast. You've got company. Head's up, D."

But D-Mo had already heard it—long before Orion's warning. Her comms clicked shut as she rose from the seat, cartridge still in hand. With silent resolve, she descended the crumbling stairs of the stadium, each step echoing in the hollow arena.

Overhead, the hovercraft screamed across the sky, its thunder giving way to a softer, more dreadful sound. Something was falling—the air twisting as a weight tore through it.

A split-second later, the impact struck—violent and final. Dust surged outward in a circular wave. The impact was enough to set a switch in place, and with it, the floodlights around the arena blinked on one by one, illuminating the wreckage in flickers.

In the center of it all stood a silhouette—massive, unmoving.

Judge.

Outlined in light, framed by dust, metal limbs flexing beneath armored plating. By the time the cloud cleared, D-Mo had already reached the field's edge. She vaulted the fence without a sound, landing in a low, steady crouch.

"D-M0," Judge's voice rumbled, emotionless and absolute. "I am here on behalf of ArchTek. You are to surrender immediately and return to your assigned research facility for decommissioning."

Judge spoke of a quiet resolution, but his body language spoke the truth. His railgun hissed as it locked into firing position. No room for discussion. He already knew how this would end. And so did D-Mo.

A tense stillness hung in the air as they faced off, each locked in that brief moment of certainty. They both believed the answer to finding Milton was right before them.

With a snap, the ground cracked beneath D-Mo as she lunged to the side, aiming to circle around Judge. Her movement triggered a quick shot from him, a blast she narrowly avoided by activating a maneuver cartridge from M-NK.

The shot obliterated the rows of seats behind her, as D-Mo leapt over the blast. Without missing a beat, she sent a massive sphere of flame hurtling toward Judge, hitting the ground and continuing her dash almost immediately.

The slow rate of fire gave her a moment to assess him. His chassis glowed red-hot from the spell, but it quickly returned to its sleek black form. No sign of damage, no melting.

In quick succession, she cast an illusion and a cloak, quickly changing course while her image moved forward seamlessly. But it was pointless. Hound Classes had a far sharper sense of detection than D-Mo had hoped for.

Judge ignored the illusion entirely, firing another shot at D-Mo. The blast grazed her shoulder, but the cloak did its job, leaving Judge's systems unable to pinpoint her exact location.

With a sudden burst of speed, D-Mo lunged at Judge, her movement so fast it seemed to shatter the air around her. Her fist slammed into his visor, causing a brief destabilization. But Judge wasn't just a fighter—he too was a Caster.

The impact sent a visible ripple across his body, and before D-Mo could retreat, the shockwave recoiled back toward her arm, throwing her off and sending her flying.

D-Mo flipped mid-air, landing on one hand and using the momentum to push herself upward—landing back on her feet. Without losing balance, she charged once more, ducking under another of Judge's shots. The final maneuver cartridge flew out of her calf with a trail of smoke—her last chance.

But Judge was already anticipating her move. Before she could strike, he reached out and grabbed her by the head, stopping D-Mo mid motion as her body flailed forward. With brutal force, he slammed her down, driving her into the ground with such power that a crater formed beneath her. She lay motionless for a moment, the impact leaving her reeling.

A moment of silence lingered, broken only by the crackling of electricity coursing through D-Mo's arms. With a surge of willpower, she latched onto Judge's massive arm, sending a high-voltage shock through his body. Sparks flew as the spell danced across his chassis, causing his systems to momentarily glitch. Judge's grip faltered, just enough for D-Mo to break free.

She knew she couldn't defeat him in her current state. ArchTek had done something to him—something beyond her understanding. She had studied every piece of data on law-enforcing S.C.U.s. She knew their limits. And Judge was shattering them.

For a brief moment, D-Mo's attack stunned him, giving her the opening she needed. She slipped from his grasp, moving around his arm with precision. A punch landed hard against his shoulder, empowered by an enchanter spell, causing his cartridge storage to pop out. Without hesitation, she seized it and used her last dash to put distance between them.

Before Judge could reboot, before his systems could even begin to process the attack—

SPELL CONTAINMENT UNIT

D-M0

—was already out of sight.