The maintenance tunnel roared with the sound of the accelerating Metro Train. Forty-five seconds until catastrophic derailment. Booma, the Guardian of Logic, stood before the energy junction, the image of the wildly swaying, packed commuter train flashing across the console.
Her mind ran the scenario with frightening speed.
* Option 1 (Destroy Chaos Seed): Success 95%. Long-term threat neutralized. Immediate civilian casualties 400+. Result: Acceptable for the future of the city.
* Option 2 (Save Commuters): Success 100%. Civilian casualties 0. Failure 100%. Chaos Seed escapes. Long-term threat persists. Result: Unacceptable for the city's survival.
There was a third, calculated risk: using the environment.
"Option 3: Environmental Destabilization," Booma murmured, her eyes cold. "Feasibility 72%. Required input: Chinnapa-Aerion's chaotic disruption."
The Distraction
Above, in the control room, Chinnappa-Aerion fought against a bewildered security guard, his face a mask of panic as he accessed the station's main broadcast feed. He didn't know what Booma was doing, but he trusted her plan—the crazy, human part of it. He needed to create "low-level, stabilizing confusion."
With a desperate smash of the Enter key, he initiated the feed.
Across the city, on giant screens, in restaurants, and on the phones of the Robotics Finalists, the live, high-stakes competition broadcast was abruptly replaced.
The screen filled with a chaotic, 3D animated loop of Bujji, the formerly magical cat, chasing a shimmering red laser pointer across the surface of a stylized Unified Locket. The cat's frantic, adorable movements were accompanied by a bizarre, upbeat classical Indian remix.
The sudden, absurd switch from intense greed and competition to universal, low-stakes humor was instantaneous. Laughter broke out. Arguments dissolved into confusion. The core energy feeding the Chaos Seed—the collective stress of the competition—dipped sharply.
The Calculated Risk
In the tunnel, Booma felt the flicker. The Chaos Seed on the junction box momentarily shuddered, distracted by the drop in its primary energy source.
* Time Remaining: 12 seconds.
Booma knew the Bujji video wouldn't stop the train, but it created a vital three-second window. She needed a quick, localized disaster to stop the train without completely draining the Unified Locket.
She focused her new logic on the problem. The track was structurally weak. The fastest solution was to eliminate the train's traction in that specific spot.
Booma pulled a handful of fine, specialized anti-friction powder (designed by Rishi for a mundane school project) from her utility belt. She then channeled the minimal, precise power remaining in the locket into the powder, converting it into a potent, localized magical dust.
In one swift, non-emotional motion, she threw the dust onto the track just ahead of the runaway train.
The dust vaporized on impact, creating a hyper-lubricated barrier that spanned exactly 10 meters of the track.
The train hit the spot. With a terrifying screech that echoed Chinnappa-Aerion's worst memories of the Final Sacrifice Spell, the wheels lost all traction. The train began to slide violently, sparks raining everywhere, grinding to a halt precisely one meter before the structural weak point.
The Immediate Cost
The passengers were terrified but alive. Booma's intervention was successful.
She immediately turned back to the energy junction. The Chaos Seed was gone.
"Analysis: The intervention successfully reduced the Chaos Seed's ambient energy supply, causing it to abandon its initial high-energy protocol," Booma reported flatly into her earpiece. "It has fled, utilizing the momentary power surge from the emergency stop to jump to a new, higher-level node. Threat assessment updated: Failure to eliminate primary target."
Chinnappa-Aerion emerged from the control room, his face sweaty but alive with relief. He saw the stopped train, the saved lives, and rushed to Booma.
"Booma! You did it! You saved them! That was pure brilliance!" he cried, grabbing her arm.
Booma pulled her arm away with a smooth, logical motion. "The probability of civilian survival was optimized. The deployment of the anti-friction agent was the most efficient outcome. We must focus on the primary failure."
She looked at him, her eyes completely devoid of the warmth he remembered. "Your method of intervention, Chinnappa-Aerion, was non-magical, but wildly inefficient. While the chaotic input served its purpose, the focus should have remained on structural integrity, not low-stakes humor."
Chinnappa-Aerion felt a cold dread settle in his heart, heavier than any elemental power. He had saved her friend, but his classmate was gone.
The New Battlefield
Booma didn't wait for his reply. She accessed the data from the Chaos Seed's brief energy signature before it fled.
"New trajectory identified," she announced. "The Chaos Seed is now targeting high-value, highly competitive energy nodes. It is currently moving toward the Arts Complex itself, specifically the Fashion Show industry headquarters located one Metro Train stop away."
Chinnapa-Aerion's blood ran cold. The headquarters was the epicenter of extreme ambition, competition, and emotional turmoil—a perfect, continuous feast for the Chaos Seed.
"The Fashion Show headquarters," he whispered. "It's going to weaponize the ultimate source of greed and envy."
Booma simply adjusted the Unified Locket. "We must move. The next strategic window is in T-minus twelve minutes. The threat is escalating. We must intercept the Chaos Seed before it corrupts the very heart of the competition."
The war had moved from the tracks to the runway. Could the cold logic of the new Guardian defeat an enemy feeding on the ultimate human desire for fame and success? And what horrifying reality awaited them in the headquarters of the Fashion Show?