Page 95 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary
Once inside, the main convention floor opened before them. It was a sprawling landscape of booths, demo stations, and performance areas. The massive NeuroSyn Arena dominated the center, where tournament matches would be held throughout the weekend.
"Holy frexx," Covak breathed, taking in the spectacle.
Even Ryke looked impressed. "Humans take their entertainment seriously."
She checked the convention map on her comm unit. "The NSAT demonstration area is over there. That's where I need to be in an hour."
They moved through the crowd, her confidence growing with each step. No one was pointing or whispering about her past. Instead, she caught several appreciative glances at her Salvation costume.
"Salvation?Ohmygod… Is that really you?"
She turned to find a teenage girl staring at her wide-eyed, clutching an official NSAT handbook.
"Ohmygod! It is you! Your armor is perfect," the girl continued, bouncing on her toes. "Are you competing today?"
Mira blinked, momentarily speechless. She'd never been recognized as her gaming persona before.
"Err… yeah. In the VIP demonstration," she managed, pointing toward the arena.
The girl's face lit up. "Can I get a pic? Please? My friends will freak!"
Before she could reply, the girl slid in next to her for a selfie. Davis stepped back, a faint smile playing at his lips as Mira awkwardly posed with her fan.
"You're my inspiration," the girl gushed. "The way you took down the entire Red Faction squad in the Nexal-Four Championship? Legendary."
"Thanks," Mira said, warmth spreading through her chest.
After the girl disappeared into the crowd, Davis leaned close. "Famous already?"
"Shut up," she muttered, fighting a smile.
They made their way toward the NSAT demonstration area, where a large crowd had gathered around multiple gaming stations. Sleek neural interface headsets gleamed under spotlights, while massive screens displayed gameplay footage.
"Well, well. Look who couldn't stay away."
The voice slithered down her spine like ice water. Mira turned slowly.
Dennis Rettnor stood ten feet away. He was thinner than she remembered, his expensive suit hanging loosely on his frame. A security badge identified him as a featured speaker.
"I knew you'd show up," he continued, eyes cold despite his smile. "I've been tracking every gaming event in the sector, waiting for you to resurface."
Davis tensed beside her, his hand dropping to where his weapon would normally be. She placed a hand on his arm to stop him.
"I'm not hiding from you, Dennis," she said, steadying her voice.
His smile tightened. "Still delusional, I see. You're nothing without me, Mira. You think you can walk away after everything I invested in you?"
Six months ago, his words would have cut deep, confirming her worst fears about her worth. Now they bounced off like poorly aimed hits on her game armor.
"Invested?" She barked a laugh. "Is that what you call it? Controlling every aspect of my life?"
Rettnor's face flushed. "You ungrateful little?—"
"Careful," Davis warned, his voice dropping to that dangerous register. Covak and Ryke moved closer, forming a wall behind her.
Mira shook her head at them.
"You're pathetic. You spent years convincing me I was worthless without you." She gestured to the NSAT arena behind her. "But here I am, invited as a featured player while you're desperately clinging to relevance."
