The Complete Journey - Complete
The Discovery
Scene 1 of 3
Scene 1 of 3
Cassian Vale pressed through the medical bay doors.
Antiseptic stung his nose.
Coppery blood followed close behind.
He adjusted imaginary glasses—a habit from six years of dissertation research.
The routine had become automatic.
Fight. Take damage. Endure the lecture about avatar safety. Accept the painkillers. Return for more.
But Aria Chen didn't gesture toward the treatment chairs.
She didn't offer the usual vials arranged in perfect parallel lines.
Her hand closed around his wrist.
Pulled him behind the privacy screen.
"The routine's different today."
She led him to a wall covered in charts.
Each chart mapped one fighter's avatar damage against their real injuries.
The lines overlapped with surgical precision.
"Look at this pattern, Cassian."
He leaned closer.
The sterile air hummed with the rhythmic beeping of heart monitors.
Avatar health bars fluctuated in perfect synchronization with real-world vitals.
Aria's fingers trembled as she traced a line across his own chart.
"You took three slash wounds to the back in round two."
She reached for the hem of his shirt.
"Lift your arms."
Cassian complied.
Cool air touched his skin.
Her fingers found the welts—exactly where the virtual blade had struck.
"The algorithm isn't just trained on gladiatorial records."
She took three deep breaths.
Always three.
"It's recreating them."
Cassian adjusted his imaginary glasses again.
His mind began connecting the pieces he'd catalogued for years.
The patterns in combat data that other fighters dismissed as roleplay fluff.
"This reminds me of 83 AD, when the crowd demanded actual blood during the opening ceremonies."
Aria's hands shook harder.
She touched her left shoulder—where her hospital badge used to hang.
"A junior fighter died last week."
Her voice cracked.
"Avatar headshot."
She turned away from the charts.
"No physical mark on the corpse."
Cassian's breath caught.
His classical history degree—the one that had gathered dust while he fought for sponsorship crumbs—suddenly mattered.
The Ludus Magnus training techniques he'd spent years researching.
The forgotten combat patterns embedded in the arena's ranking system.
They weren't just references.
They were demands.
"You've known this for weeks."
"I couldn't prove it until you."
Aria's hands found his arm again.
"Your thesis on the Ludus Magnus training methods."
She met his eyes.
"The combat patterns match."
Cassian traced the floor with his foot—mentally reconstructing ancient battlegrounds.
The pieces fit.
The ranking algorithm had been trained on actual gladiatorial combat data.
It was recreating those fights.
Demanding the same sacrifices.
"We need to expose this."
Aria's jaw tightened.
"Someone's going to die if we don't."
Cassian adjusted his glasses one more time.
His student loans, the apartment piled with history books, the years of being #847—none of it mattered anymore.
Knowledge without action was useless.
"I can reach the top hundred."
He said it like a thesis defense.
"Qualify for the championship tournament."
Aria's shoulders slumped.
Relief washed over her face.
"And then?"
"And then I use your medical data."
Cassian's voice dropped.
"My knowledge of the system."
He didn't finish the sentence.
The heart monitors beeped faster.
Avatar health bars dipped in unison.
The sterile air suddenly felt too thin.
Aria reached for the parallel vials.
But she didn't offer them to him.
Instead, she pulled another chart from the stack.
This one tracked the algorithm's behavior over time.
The correlation grew stronger each week.
"The sacrifices are increasing."
Cassian studied the data.
His analytical mind catalogued the pattern.
"The tournament finals are in six weeks."
He adjusted his glasses.
"I'll be ready."