The door chimes about an hour later, announcing Desta's arrival. The system must have processed her visitation request through our psychological support framework. When the door slides open, she enters with her usual economy of movement, brown Null coverall making her look even more out of place in these luxury accommodations.

  "Secure for communication?" she asks immediately, glancing at the ceiling corners where monitoring devices would typically be located.

  "As secure as anywhere in this place," I respond, gesturing for her to join me in the seating area. "Victor's quarters apparently have privacy protocols beyond standard monitoring. Not complete blackout, but better than independent blocks."

  Desta nods, sitting with perfect posture on the edge of a chair that's probably more comfortable than anything she's used in months. "Critical information necessitated direct contact. Security protocols have escalated beyond anticipated parameters."

  So this is what she wanted to talk about, not my arena victory but something more urgent.

  "System access during observation revealed facility-wide security implementation timeline," she continues, her voice low despite the relative privacy. "Integration Program entering new phase designated 'Comprehensive Asset Optimization' that includes increased monitoring of all enhancement categories, not just telekinetic signatures."

  "What kind of monitoring?" I ask, leaning forward with concern.

  "Neural mapping during rest cycles, ability signature analysis through environmental sensors, and most concerning, mandatory assessment protocols scheduled for all assets regardless of classification status." Her eyes meet mine with unusual intensity. "Including Nulls."

  That last bit carries serious implications. If they're going to assess Nulls with the same protocols used for active assets, our neural camouflage and repair work could be exposed during direct examination.

  "Timeline for implementation?" I ask, needing to understand how quickly we need to adapt.

  "Three facility cycles for complete rollout, beginning with sponsored assets, then independents, finally Nulls." Desta's fingers tap a subtle rhythm on her knee, the closest thing to nervousness I've ever seen from her. "Our camouflage architecture requires significant reinforcement to withstand direct neural mapping. Current implementation sufficient for standard monitoring but potentially inadequate for comprehensive assessment."

  We will need to spend more time reinforcing her neural camouflage before formal assessment exposes our work. Still manageable.

  "That's not all," she continues, her voice dropping even lower. "System access revealed restricted data regarding facility purpose beyond combat entertainment. The arena system appears connected to larger experiment involving enhancement template optimization across multiple species."

  "Multiple species?" This is entirely new information. "You mean we're not the first?"

  "Correct. Records indicate similar enhancement programs implemented on at least seven previous species, with humans representing current primary focus due to 'exceptional neurological adaptability' and 'optimal template integration potential.'"

  The implications are staggering, this isn’t just entertainment for the aliens or some arbitrary control system, but a methodical research program spanning multiple species and presumably years or decades of development. Whatever they're trying to create through these enhancements extends far beyond simple gladiatorial combat.

  "There's something else you should know," I say, deciding to share Nova's bombshell now that Desta has delivered her own. "Nova just left. She says they're changing the arena rules. Going to be announced tomorrow."

  Desta nods in acknowledgement. "Freedom with ten win streak."

  So she already knew.

  "Why didn't you tell me?" I grumble. And here I thought I'd have some news to share with her for once.

  "Not as important as other news," Desta replies. "Public knowledge tomorrow anyways."

  Well, I guess when you compare it to the bombshells she dropped, it is less important, but still this news is much more actionable. Provided the aliens aren’t lying of course.

  "Do you think they're serious?" I ask. "About the freedom and integration protection."

  "Logical motivation assessment," Desta inclines her head slightly. "Escalating stakes correlates with enhanced behavioral responses from subjects. Consistent with experimental methodology seen in other facility protocols."

  Ok, so maybe I really can start making plans with this information then.

  I lean forward, getting to the heart of what I've been thinking since Nova left. "If this is real, I want to go for it. Solo at first, but eventually team approach." I meet her eyes directly. "I want you on my team, Desta."

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  This finally breaks through her neutral expression, genuine surprise flickering across her features before control reasserts itself. "Null classification indicates suboptimal performance in arena."

  "Your abilities are developing beyond Null limitations," I counter. "And even if you aren't useful in combat, you can help out in other ways. By gathering information, doing real-time analysis of matches, your powers will be a huge help to the team."

  She considers this with that analytical intensity that makes her so valuable. "Significant risk factors. Neural camouflage would require perfect implementation during combat stress conditions. Detection probability increases exponentially with multiple consecutive public appearances."

  "Even if they find out about your recovery, they can't do anything about it as long as we're winning right?" I press. "So all we need to do is keep winning. Isn't that risk worth taking? Ten wins and we're out of here. Back to Earth, away from this entire system."

  "Assuming 'freedom' matches descriptive parameters rather than alternative facility transfer or experimental control group designation," she notes pragmatically.

  Always the realist. But she's not saying no.

  "We'd need to accelerate your neural repair work," I continue, the plan taking shape as I speak. "Focus on combat-applicable restoration while maintaining camouflage architecture against increasing security protocols."

  Desta's eyes never leave mine as she processes all angles. "Proposal contains both significant opportunity and substantial risk. Further information required before commitment determination."

  "We wait for the official announcement tomorrow," I agree. "Verify details through your system access if possible. Then make decisions based on confirmed parameters rather than advance information."

  She nods slightly. "Logical approach. Meanwhile, security protocol escalation requires immediate attention. Neural camouflage reinforcement should take priority regardless of arena rule modifications."

  We spend the next hour discussing technical approaches to strengthening our deception architecture against the coming assessment protocols. The conversation shifts seamlessly between neural repair strategies and potential combat approaches if the team matches become reality. Despite her cautious response, I can tell Desta is considering the possibility seriously, perhaps the first genuine hope of escape either of us has encountered since arriving in this facility.

  As we finish up our discussion, I notice her glancing at the spread of food still sitting on the side table. Just a quick look, barely noticeable if you weren't paying attention, but I catch it. After years of nothing but that gray paste crap, the aroma of actual seasoned food must be fucking torture to someone sitting a few feet away.

  "Hey, you should try some of this," I say, gesturing to the remaining dishes. "Probably the best shit either of us has tasted in months."

  Desta hesitates, her normally unreadable expression showing a flicker of something, longing, maybe, or simple calculation of risk versus reward.

  "Null nutrition allocations are precisely calibrated," she says, but I notice she doesn't immediately refuse. "Consumption variance could trigger monitoring flags."

  I grab a clean plate from the side table and start loading it with a bit of everything—the tender protein with actual herbs and spices, vegetables that have color and texture instead of that mushy crap from standard allocations, and some kind of grain that doesn't taste like cardboard.

  "Your psychological support visit to a combat victor would reasonably include shared nutrition as part of the stability framework," I counter, pushing the plate toward her. "Perfectly within established protocols."

  She studies the food for a moment, then gives that slight nod that I've come to recognize as her version of agreement. When she takes the first bite, something extraordinary happens, her eyes widen just a fraction, and for a split second, genuine emotion crosses her face.

  "Flavor profile significantly more complex than standard nutrition paste," she says, in what might be the biggest understatement I've heard since arriving in this facility.

  "That's one way of putting it," I laugh, enjoying her subtle reaction to real food almost as much as I enjoyed my own first taste. "Beats the shit out of gray paste, right?"

  She takes another bite with slightly more enthusiasm than her usual measured movements. "Nutritional diversity provides multiple benefits beyond simple palatability. Trace elements absent in standard allocations support enhanced neural function and cellular regeneration."

  Leave it to Desta to find the practical benefits of good food beyond it just tasting awesome. But she's not wrong, the quality nutrition is probably helping my enhanced healing and ability development too.

  As we continue our discussion about neural camouflage reinforcement and potential combat approaches, she finishes every bite on her plate with methodical precision. It's such a small thing, sharing decent food with someone who's been living on the same garbage nutrition I had been, but somehow it feels important. A human connection beyond our strategic alliance, a simple pleasure shared in this fucked-up place.

  "The protein contains amino acid profiles optimal for neural repair acceleration," she observes as we return to discussing the technical approaches to strengthening our deception architecture.

  "Is that your way of saying you enjoyed it?" I ask, smiling slightly.

  The corner of her mouth twitches in what might almost be the ghost of a smile. "Efficiency and enjoyment are not mutually exclusive parameters."

  As our meeting concludes and she prepares to return to Null quarters, Desta pauses at the door. "Ten victories represents significant challenge given increasing opponent difficulty with each success."

  "But not impossible," I respond. "Especially with the right team."

  Something almost like a smile touches the corner of her mouth. "Optimal asset combination would indeed improve probability metrics considerably."

  After she leaves, I return to the comfortable seating area, the luxury of victory accommodations suddenly less significant compared to the potential freedom dangling ten wins away. If Nova's information proves accurate, tomorrow's announcement will transform the entire facility dynamics—creating direct competition for limited team positions and immediate strategic realignment among independents with combat capabilities.

  For now, I enjoy the rest of my victory meal with renewed purpose. No longer just surviving classification or navigating system limitations,potentially fighting for actual freedom through direct, defined pathway. Ten wins suddenly feels both impossibly distant and tantalizingly achievable.