Training Ground 3 resembled a steel-plated beehive. Three hundred basic training mechs hummed in grid formation, Chen Yang's golden "Falcon-III" perched atop the central platform, flanked by five iron-gray Anvil mechs.
"Wedge-kill formation." Lu Chen traced tactical screens. "Heaviest armor on the Anvils, scout mechs fastest at rear. We need to shred the right flank—"
"Wait." Lin Ye's hand settled on the control sphere. Cold interface activated the Double Watch—vision exploded: five hundred meters away, stress fractures snaked along an Anvil mech's hydraulic leg, weakening under energy flow! His Adam's apple bobbed: "Su Qing! Can you tune the sonic resonator to 43.6 Hz?"
"That's the Anvil hydraulics' resonant frequency! But to affect five at once requires an energy node..."
"Sub-sector D7." Lin Ye's mech stomped! Web-like cracks spread—Su Qing understood instantly: the liquid nitrogen pipeline port! She hurled her resonator into the fissure. A subsonic scream engulfed the arena, frosting all five Anvils' joints!
Chen Yang's sneer crackled over comms: "Frozen joints mean nothing!" The Falcon-III rocketed skyward, shoulder cannons locking onto Lu Chen—
Now! Lin Ye's mech seized the nearest Anvil's ankle—swinging the frost-coated hulk like a hammer at the golden bird!
BOOOM—!
The Falcon-III crumpled. Chen Yang pushed up from debris only to see Lin Ye's mech jamming steel rebar into a ground-level conduit port—the arena's central power feed!
"Are you insane?!" Chen Yang's scream distorted. Yet his hands moved faster—overriding the Falcon's chest armor to expose a throbbing Nuclear Fusion Core: 3...2...1—
Lin Ye's shoulder armor shot cooling rods into the nitrogen geyser! Lu Chen's mech rebounded off the rebar, rocketing toward the roof-mounted counterweight beam—
The nuclear blast collided with thirty tons of falling steel! Shockwaves diverted skyward as Lin Ye's mech shielded Su Qing's wreckage with its back. Shattered displays flashed:
SYNC RATE CRITICAL: 55%
ANDROMEDA γ SECTOR SOURCE ENERGY SIGNAL DETECTED—MATCH 99.7%
Silence swallowed the arena.
Haze cleared to reveal the Falcon crushed beneath the beam. Bloodied, Chen Yang crawled from the cockpit, pointing a shaking finger: "You knew liquid nitrogen would destabilize the core..."
"Student Handbook Article 31." Lin Ye tore open his command console, extracting a burned bronze gear—still wired to half an emergency brake line. "For installing military-grade weapons on training grounds, you're the one expelled."
Control room doors blasted open. Professor Allen's hologram cut through the smoke:
"Lin Ye, Su Qing, Lu Chen—report to Tactical Coordination Class tomorrow, 0800."
Moonlight washed over blood-crusted gears. Lu Chen dug his twisted resonator from the wreckage, grinning: "When you told Su Qing to tune the frequency... you calculated Chen Yang would go nuclear?"
"Not calculated." Lin Ye wiped blood from his brow. "I left him no other choice."
Night wind scattered holographic stardust. In the unseen void, the Double Watch's fractures sealed with source energy—branded by fate as medals for the challengers.