The first thing Kael-X remembered was pain.

A shock-collar seared his neck the moment his eyes opened—his **first breath** met with the sting of enslavement. Around him, rows of incubation pods hissed open, birthing not children, but **property**.

"Designation: Kael-X," a mechanical voice droned. "Genetic template: Speed-Spatial Variant. Primary function: Arena combat. Secondary function: High-value labor."

He didn't understand the words, but the **System** etched them into his mind like a brand.

---

### **The Chains of Zulek**

Commander Zulek, a hulking warlord clad in bio-armor, owned him. Like all slaves, Kael-X's **System** was shackled to Zulek's command network. Every skill, every stat, every pulse of his **Spatial Dash** or **Velocity Surge** could be overridden with a thought.

For **centuries**, he fought.

The arenas of Zypheron-5 were a symphony of screams. Kael-X's body blurred across battlefields, his fists cracking through armored foes, his spatial-tears dismembering enemies mid-leap—all for the amusement of the elite. Each victory earned him nothing. Each defeat meant torture.

But unlike the others, Kael-X **remembered every escape attempt**.

The first time, at age twelve (or what passed for age in a lab-grown slave), he'd used his speed to outrun the guards. Zulek **deactivated his System**, dropping him mid-sprint. The whiplash shattered his legs.

The second time, he'd tried to warp through the arena's energy shields. His **Spatial Step** failed—Zulek had programmed a **deadzone**. The resulting backlash burned his skin off.

The hundredth time, he'd nearly reached the sky-docks. Then Zulek triggered the **Pain Protocol**. Kael-X woke up with a new collar—this one lined with neuro-spikes.

---

### **The Festival of Eternal Dusk**

The only night the chains loosened.

Once every century, Zypheron-5's rulers drowned in decadence. The air reeked of hallucinogenic vapors as the elite staggered between pleasure-palaces. Even Zulek abandoned his throne, leaving only drone-enforcers to watch the slaves.

Kael-X waited.

Deep in the slave-pens, a whisper slithered through the dark: *"The System glitches during the festival."*

No one knew why. Some said the planet's ancient AI faltered under the revelry's data-storm. Others claimed the gods of chaos laughed that night.

Kael-X didn't care. He **tested his Interface**.

>> **SYSTEM COMMAND: [Velocity Surge]**

>> *ERROR. PRIORITY OVERRIDE: ZULEK-CONTROL NETWORK.*

But then—a flicker.

>> **…OVERRIDE FAILURE DETECTED. TEMPORARY GAP IN—**

The enforcer drones twitched, their optics dimming.

---

### **The Escape**

Kael-X moved.

His **Speed** was a stolen comet, his **Spatial Steps** fracturing the air like glass. He didn't need to outrun the drones—he warped **past** them, slipping through folded space.

The armory doors exploded under his **Kinetic-Rush Punch**. Inside, the **Quantum-Rift Gauntlet** hummed—a prototype, forbidden tech. Zulek's personal toy.

Kael-X seized it.

The System screamed in his skull:

>> UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS. TERMINATION PROTOCOL ENGAGED.

Too late.

He activated the gauntlet. Space tore like fabric, a wormhole vomiting light. Behind him, Zulek's roar shook the compound: *"FIND HIM!*"

Kael-X leapt into the rift—just as the Collapse-Pulse detonated.

---

The Fall

Planets blurred. Stars stretched into needles.

The gauntlet was dying, its energy shredding apart. Kael-X's body unraveled, his System glitching:

>> CRITICAL DAMAGE. SPATIAL COHESION FAILING.

Then—impact.

Dirt. Cold. The stench of oxygen and rot.

Kael-X gasped, his mangled limbs stitching back together. Above him, a pale moon hung in a sky of swirling clouds.

No diamond spires. No scream-pits. Just… silence.

A voice crackled from his dying System:

>> LOCATION UNK

NOWN. DESIGNATION: EARTH.

And then, the gauntlet exploded.

---

TO BE CONTINUED...

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