The stolen System Coins were a phantom weight in their account, a number so large it felt abstract. But its power was immediate and absolute. It bought them anonymity, forged credentials that could withstand a Division Zero deep-scan, and passage on the Iron Serpent, a privately chartered, armor-plated transport heading for the first suspected Orb zone: the Sundered Wastes.
The Serpent was no academy shuttle. It was a beast of welded durasteel and exposed conduits, its interior smelling of engine grease, ozone, and the sharp, coppery scent of anticipation. This was the vessel of mercenaries, freelance System Bearers, and ambitious scions of minor houses, all Prime-class or higher, all armed to the teeth, all competing for the same ultimate prize. The air crackled with a mixture of competi
