Link’s bionic knuckle snugly locks into the bone groove of the blade hilt 🖐️, and a streak of purple radiance snakes along the prosthetic’s neural conduit straight into the interface at the back of his neck ⚡. The cheers from the audience instantly turn into a piercing screech, and half of all the holographic projections are swallowed up by that wash of purple 🔮. This is a creation he salvaged from an alien prison cage buried in the ruins of the old era; the strange patterns etched into the blade are traces left behind by neutrinos from the sealed void 🟣, while the three hollowed-out holes were once the anchor points used to lock the demonic beast inside the cage 🕳️. Even a mere flick of the blade can unleash a powerful undercurrent that sucks in energy 🌊. Of everyone who has ever seen it drawn, nine out of ten didn’t survive; the lone survivor melted his own brain-computer interface just to escape the underground arena, and all he ever says is “It’s eating” 🧠. When the city defense force’s pulse guns touch its blade, they immediately lose power, and the bone-alloy armor crafted by corporations shatters like foam 🫧. Link fixes his gaze on the fully modified corporate assassin across from him, flips his wrist—and the strange patterns on the blade light up. A veil of purple mist slowly spreads across the entire arena, and he can feel something inside the hilt pulsing, licking at the energy that’s about to be consumed 🔮…