Nolan's parents were sprinting down the hospital hallway alongside nurses pushing a gurney. Nolan was unconscious, an oxygen mask covering his nose as they rushed him toward the ER. As soon as they arrived, the nurses hooked up the EKG leads to his body. His heartbeat was incredibly faint almost stop—just a weak thump every once in a while. Then, suddenly, "tiiiiiiiiit," the EKG let out a long, steady drone, signaling that the patient's heart had stopped. The doctor on duty immediately checked Nolan and the device implanted in his chest.
"Get the paddles, now!" the doctor shouted.
"On it, Doc!"
Nurses wheeled the defibrillator from the corner of the room to the doctor's side. He prepped for the jumpstart procedure while a nurse tore Nolan's clothes open wider.
"Clear!"
"Bzzt!" The shock jolted the boy's chest, making his body heave and bounce off the bed. The doctor glanced at the EKG. He tried again. "Bzzt!" Again, the body lurched, but there was no change on the monitor.
The doctor pulled off his surgical cap and lowered his mask. His face was grim as he checked his watch.
"Record the time of death at 5:00 PM. Please call the parents in," the doctor said.
But not a single nurse responded. He turned to find them looking pale as ghosts, backing away with trembling legs. Then came the sound of the bed creaking. The doctor turned slowly, and this time he was the one who nearly had a heart attack—Nolan was sitting up on the bed, staring at his own hands with a look of pure confusion. Then Nolan looked at the doctor with a pale face.
"Um... Doc, why am I still alive?" Nolan asked, looking like he'd just seen a ghost himself.
Reflexively, the doctor looked at the EKG leads still attached to Nolan's chest. The screen showed nothing but a flat line and a big fat zero. The doctor grabbed the boy's wrist to feel for a pulse. His expression shifted drastically when he felt a steady beat. To be absolutely sure, he pressed a stethoscope to the boy's chest. The thumping was there, clear as day, yet the EKG machine didn't budge.
"How... is this possible?" the doctor muttered, completely baffled.
***
Okay, let's stop again for a second. The confused doctor called in all his colleagues, and long story short, they gave me an X-ray. Here's the crazy part: my heart didn't show up on the X-ray at all, but you could hear it beating clear as day through the stethoscope. Total mess, right? And when a doctor gets curious, it's bad news. He told my parents I had to be "opened up" for the sake of science. Great.
So, I was anesthetized and sliced open two days later. The result? Even I was shocked. Turns out, my heart is made of transparent crystal. It won't show up on an X-ray, and it's so hard that the scalpel literally bounced off it. But it beats just like a normal human heart. Every other organ? Totally normal. I'm a human through and through.
The doctor, getting even weirder, suggested I become a research project for various reasons. My dad lost his mind—partly because of the cost, but mostly because he was still thinking about my future... back then. Anyway, they took me home and life tried to be normal for about three months. But during those three months, my parents fought constantly. Then came the "silent treatment" phase, and finally, after three months, they divorced.
I stayed with my mom. A year later, I had a new stepdad—the high school ex they were fighting about before the split. Turns out he got divorced too... because he was cheating with my mom. Classy. My new stepdad brought a daughter with him, Heidi. She's two years older than me, so when I was 15, she was 17.
Then my misery officially started. My stepdad threw me into a public high school. Just imagine how cruel that was—I'd been home schooled my whole life. Forget about having a girlfriend; I didn't even have a single friend because my routine since I was a kid was just home, hospital, home, repeat. When I started? Naturally, I got bullied immediately. I had zero social skills and no idea how to even make a friend.
Let me tell you something about school—especially high school. It's a dangerous place. Why? Because under the age of 18, you're still considered a minor. So, let's say a bully kills some dorky kid? The AI won't punish them at all, even if the dorky kid's parents sue and sobbing uncontrollably in court. The reason? Because the bully is a minor, and AI doesn't give a damn about "morality and feelings"—to it, the rules are the rules. A bully could literally be smirking in court after a murder and they won't be punished. It's insane. So believe me when I say school is the most dangerous place in the world, even more dangerous than the "Real" Arena (we get to it later).
In the real Arena, you die and done, the problem is over—you're out of this world and don't have to deal with anyone anymore. But school? You get bullied every day, tortured, whatever—and it's all "safe." Even being killed is technically fine as long as the killer isn't 18 yet. So, was my stepdad cruel? Obviously. His goal was to get me killed. Luckily, my stepsister Heidi was kind. She looked out for me until I turned 16 and maybe...she's my first love.
When I was 16 and Heidi was 18, my stepdad was arrested by the AI for embezzling company funds. In this world, the AI catches everything. He was sentenced, tossed into the real arena, and died on the spot. In this twisted world, all crime leads to the arena—not the flashy coliseum where I fight for cash, but the "Real" Arena. People sold for debt, criminals, outcasts... they're all thrown in there. And they don't fight people; they fight monsters. Monsters that used to be human but mutated because of exploding Orbs or elemental accidents.
The monsters there aren't "cool" fantasy creatures. They're nightmares. Like "Blobs"—humans melted into sentient slime with eyes and a mouth. Or "Minotaurs" that aren't cool bull-men, but people with gross horns, swollen arms, and half a bison's body grafted onto them. It's disgusting.
If you're a criminal or you're sold into that place, you're either leaving this world or staying in it as a monster. No exceptions. That's why I hate the AI; you can't negotiate with it. Anyway, after my stepdad kicked the bucket, my mom stressed out and took out loans from illegal sharks since her credit was trashed. Eventually, she took her own life. And the debt? Of course, it fell on me and Heidi.
Heidi was sold as a slave because she's beautiful; the debt collectors chose to just hauled her away. Panicked, I tried asking my biological dad for help—the one who was supposedly rich now—but the guy acted like he didn't even know me. Insane. So, that's the mission. My stepsister—the only person who was ever nice to me, my only friend—is being held until I can pay off a debt with sky-high interest and a ridiculous amount.
I spent my time training like a man possessed. I learned martial arts and practiced using the Tower's power, since time doesn't exist in the fourth dimension. I also studied to fill my "brain" bucket, hoping a high-paying job could save her. But now, this is where I'm at. Everything I do is to buy her back, because after a year, the total debt is still insane.
And this is where my story actually starts—though at the time, I had no clue that the other Towers had Monarchs too, and that most of them were girls who were going to make my life very complicated.
***
Grey—who is actually Nolan—strolled over to the arena's administrative office. He banged loudly on the door and walked right in, startling the man behind the desk. The guy was wearing a black-and-white pinstriped suit with a fedora, puffing on a cigar. Nolan tossed the gold belt onto the desk. The man looked at it, then looked back at Nolan, thinking "dammit, this kid is gonna wipe out all my best fighters sooner or later," before letting out a wicked grin..
Nolan pulled back his hood. He had dyed his hair blond and wore two earrings; his eyes were sharp, carrying the look of someone who lived in violence every day.
"So? From now on, I'm in the tournament, right? There's the belt to prove it. Oh, and don't forget to pay me," Nolan said, his voice firm and deep.
"Hahaha... okay, okay, next time. Come back in three days. For now, here's your cut," said the man, whose nameplate read Bobby.
Bobby pulled out a briefcase of cash, grabbed a stack of 100-gallar bills, and tossed them at Nolan. Nolan immediately counted them. The stack totaled 2,000 gallars.
"Hey... you're 500 short," Nolan barked.
"Yeah, yeah... here," Bobby replied, tossing five crumpled 100-gallar bills onto the desk.
"Ok, thanks," Nolan said, turning for the door.
"Hey! Don't forget, three days!" Bobby shouted after him.
Nolan just raised a hand without looking back. He opened the door and stepped out, then leaned against the door and looked at the cash. He squeezed the bundle tight.
"Total's 35,500 gallars. Almost at 50,000 and then next milestone. Just hang on, Heidi... I'm coming for you soon. If I could just get into that tournament with the 100,000-gallars prize, this would all be over. Dammit, they still won't let me enter," Nolan muttered to himself, staring at his clenched fist as he gripped the cash.
After that, Nolan walked down the arena hallway, flanked by posters of famous gladiators, heading for the exit to go home.