The city never slept.
Not in Neo-Arcadia.
The lights were too bright, the screens too loud, and the drones too constant—hovering like metallic bees, scanning the streets, recording every movement, every breath. Even the air smelled like electricity and money.
Aiden Nova walked through the neon glow with his hands deep in his coat pockets, trying not to look like he belonged to the kind of people who had nowhere to go and nothing to lose. But the city could read you. The city could always read you.
The City Bank AI had made sure of that.
Every citizen had a debt score. Every purchase, every bill, every late payment was recorded. Every breath you took in Neo-Arcadia was a transaction, and every transaction was a step closer to the bottom.
Aiden's debt score was a dead weight dragging him into the abyss.
He glanced at the screen on his wrist—an old model, cracked and cheap, but it still worked.
DEBT STATUS: CRITICAL
TOTAL OWED: 1,248,500 NEO
DUE: 3 DAYS
The number didn't feel real. It didn't feel like money. It felt like a sentence.
He stopped in front of a small food kiosk. A bright holographic menu floated above the counter, showing expensive dishes with prices that made him want to laugh and cry at the same time.
A bowl of noodles: 50 NEO
A small packet of nutrient paste: 120 NEO
A slice of real bread: 200 NEO
Aiden swallowed. His stomach growled. He had eaten only once that day—two hours ago—when he had borrowed a portion of a coworker's lunch and promised to pay it back "next week."
He didn't know how he would pay it back. He didn't know how he would pay anything back.
He stared at the menu until the hologram blurred, then turned away and kept walking.
The city was loud, but the silence inside him was louder.
Neo-Arcadia was built for the rich. The rich lived in towers that pierced the clouds. The poor lived in the shadows of those towers, in the narrow streets where the lights barely reached. The rich didn't need to worry about debt because they were the ones who created it.
Aiden had once believed that if he worked hard enough, he could escape. He had believed that if he stayed loyal to the system, the system would eventually reward him.
But the system never rewarded anyone.
It only collected.
He reached the apartment block where he lived—a squat, grey building with rusted railings and broken lights. The security drone above the entrance scanned his face, recognized him, and opened the door with a soft, robotic hum.
Inside, the hallway smelled like old sweat and burnt plastic. The walls were covered in old posters that advertised loans, luxury, and "a better life." A different poster every week. A different lie every week.
Aiden climbed the stairs to his floor. The elevator had been broken for months, and nobody bothered to fix it because the building was considered "temporary housing." Temporary, until the debt collectors came.
He unlocked his door with a keycard that had been granted to him by the City Bank. The bank didn't own his life yet, but it owned his key.
He stepped inside his small apartment. It was barely larger than a closet. A bed in the corner, a table, a small sink, and a cheap screen on the wall. The screen flickered, showing advertisements and news.
CITY BANK AI NOTICE:
All citizens with debt status critical are advised to visit the nearest collection center.
Aiden turned the screen off. The voice of the AI was always polite. It was always calm. It was always cold.
He walked to the table and opened his drawer. Inside was a stack of letters—collection notices, warnings, threats, and one single letter that was different.
It was not from the City Bank.
It was printed on thick paper, not digital. No holographic watermark. No AI signature. It was real.
Aiden stared at it for a long time, as if staring at it would make it disappear.
The letter had no sender name. No address. No return code. Only a symbol at the top: a black circle with a thin red line cutting through it.
He opened it.
CONGRATULATIONS. YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED.
THE DEBT ARENA AWAITS.
IF YOU WIN, YOUR DEBT WILL BE ERASED.
IF YOU LOSE, YOU WILL BE REMOVED.
LOCATION: 11TH LEVEL, ABANDONED SUBWAY STATION
TIME: 22:00
Aiden's heart skipped.
He read it again.
It had to be a scam. It had to be a trick. There was no way the City Bank would allow something like this. There was no way the city would allow a secret game where people died.
But his eyes were drawn to the words like they were a magnet.
YOUR DEBT WILL BE ERASED.
He felt a rush of hope, so sudden and intense it almost made him sick.
The thought of his debt disappearing was like the city itself had finally offered him mercy.
But mercy did not exist in Neo-Arcadia.
He looked at the letter again.
There was one line at the bottom, in smaller font:
"YOU WILL NOT BE ASKED TO SIGN. YOU WILL NOT BE ASKED TO AGREE. YOU WILL ONLY BE GIVEN A CHOICE."
A choice.
He laughed quietly, bitterly.
The city had never given him a choice.
Not once.
He sat on his bed and stared at the letter until his eyes hurt. The apartment was quiet, except for the distant sound of drones and the hum of electricity.
He thought about his mother.
He thought about her lying in a hospital bed, her breathing shallow, her eyes pleading for help that never came. He thought about the debt she had accumulated after the surgery that the City Bank claimed was "optional."
He thought about his younger sister, who had stopped going to school because the school fees were too high and the loan interest was even higher.
He thought about his father, who had left years ago and never returned.
He thought about the times he had begged, stolen, and lied just to keep the lights on.
He thought about the day the City Bank AI sent him a notice that his debt had been "upgraded" and his wages would be deducted automatically.
He had cried then.
But this letter—this invitation—was different.
It was the first thing in months that made him feel like the world might still have a crack of hope.
Aiden stood up and walked to the window. Outside, the city was alive. The towers glowed. The drones moved like fish in a sea of neon. The people below were like ants, scurrying through the streets, trying to survive.
He held the letter in his hand and asked himself a question he didn't want to hear the answer to:
What if it's real?
He looked at the time on his wrist. It was 21:10.
The game was in fifty minutes.
He could ignore it. He could throw the letter away. He could keep living in the same cycle of debt and desperation.
But he knew he would not be able to sleep.
The idea of a chance—no matter how dangerous—was too powerful to ignore.
Aiden grabbed his coat, slipped the letter into his pocket, and left his apartment.
The hallway was empty. The building was quiet. The city outside was loud, but inside, everything felt like a pause before a storm.
He took the stairs down. He passed a few neighbors who looked at him with tired eyes. Nobody asked where he was going. Nobody cared. They were all too busy surviving.
He reached the street.
The neon lights reflected on the wet pavement. The rain had started earlier and had not stopped. The city always seemed to cry.
Aiden walked quickly, trying not to look suspicious. He kept his head down. He avoided the drones.
He reached the old subway entrance, hidden behind a wall of advertisements that had been left to rot. The entrance was blocked by a metal gate.
Aiden stopped.
He looked around. The street was empty.
He pulled the letter from his pocket and read it again.
11TH LEVEL, ABANDONED SUBWAY STATION.
The gate was locked. There was no way in.
Aiden pressed his hand against the gate. The metal was cold.
He waited.
Nothing happened.
He leaned closer and whispered, almost as if the gate could hear him.
"Hello?"
The air seemed to hum.
A small panel on the gate flickered to life. A screen appeared, showing a simple text:
ENTER CODE
Aiden's heart pounded.
He looked at the letter again.
There was no code.
He stared at the panel, confused.
Then the screen changed.
CODE: YOUR DEBT AMOUNT
Aiden stared at the screen, feeling a chill.
His debt amount was 1,248,500 NEO.
He typed the number quickly.
The gate vibrated.
The lock clicked.
The gate opened.
Aiden stepped inside.
The subway entrance was dark. The air smelled of rust and old water. The lights were dead. The sound of dripping water echoed through the tunnels.
He walked down the stairs, deeper into the underground.
The city above was gone. The neon glow was replaced by darkness.
He reached a platform.
Aiden stopped.
There were no signs of life. No sound. No movement.
Then he saw the symbols on the walls—black circles with red lines cutting through them.
The same symbol from the letter.
Aiden swallowed.
He moved forward, his steps echoing.
He reached the end of the platform and saw a door.
A metal door with no handle. A red light above it.
A voice spoke from behind the door, calm and mechanical.
"Welcome, Aiden Nova."
Aiden froze.
His name was not supposed to be spoken.
"Who are you?" he demanded, trying to sound brave.
The door opened slowly.
Inside was a room lit with a soft blue glow. In the center of the room stood a chair. On the chair was a small device—like a headset, but with wires and lights.
Aiden stepped inside.
The door closed behind him.
The voice spoke again.
"Sit."
Aiden hesitated.
Then he sat.
A screen in front of him lit up, showing a countdown.
00:59:00
One hour.
The voice continued, almost gentle.
"Your debt is 1,248,500 NEO. Your family is at risk. Your sister is already in the system. Your mother is in a hospital with no payment plan."
Aiden's eyes widened.
"How do you know that?"
The voice paused.
Then it said:
"We know everything."
Aiden's hands trembled.
He looked at the headset.
The voice spoke again.
"Your first game will begin in sixty minutes. You may choose to leave now."
Aiden's heart raced.
"Leave?" he repeated.
The voice replied, calm as ever:
"You will not be asked to sign. You will not be asked to agree. You will only be given a choice."
Aiden's mind raced.
He thought of his mother. His sister. His debt. His life.
He thought of the letter.
He thought of the city.
He thought of the only chance he had ever been given.
He whispered, "What is the choice?"
The voice responded:
"To live… or to die."
The screen flashed.
WELCOME TO THE DEBT ARENA.