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Simulated Spheroid Racing: 26 is a racing game known for its mix of bright aesthetics, realistic physics, and larger-than-life characters with unique abilities. Firefly has read the Stellarpedia summary, she understands the concept, and she knows a few more pieces of trivia about the developers than she probably needs to.
"I promise it'll be fun," Silver Wolf begs, directly into her ear. "It'll help us prepare."
Simulated Spheroid Racing: 26 is also by no means necessary to the mission that Firefly and Silver Wolf are on.
Taikiyan is a planet built around Roboball stadiums. Every city has one, and every one has a massive attendance every night. The Taikiyan Arena--the biggest, brightest, loudest--is home to only the most elite players, with only the most corrupt companies backing them. Players in propulsion gear pinball into each other and race to the end of a glowing track, often injuring each other badly. There's a player, rich and famous, whose neurotech implants were propagating a virus that would eventually completely destabilize Planet Taikiyan's solar system. Elio sent Silver Wolf because of her ability to hack into those implants and navigate the competition's technology, and Firefly because SAM falls into a very convenient overlap of being nearly impossible to hack or infect as well as blending in seamlessly to the outlandish propulsion setups of Roboball players. (Blade had no interest in the roaring crowds and contact sports, and Kafka elected to go on a shopping trip to nearby Planet Luoyan instead.)
"Spheroid racing isn't even what they play here," Firefly protests, but her heart isn't really in it. She's the one who suggested the mall trip anyways (Elio's script doesn't start until midnight, they're here to get set up) as well as the one who walked by the entrance to the arcade knowing full well what would happen. She's already spent fifteen minutes at the gachapon machines, cooing over the wind-up Cycranes and colorful trotter figurines until Silver Wolf scoffed and told her to just choose already, they have Kafka's credit card anyways. (She got the super-rare teal glow-in-the-dark Cycrane and the shiny purple trotter, the exact ones she'd been hoping for.)
"No, but it is a race with things bumping into each other. Plus, look--our guy has a collab going with them." Silver Wolf points at the window and--yep, there he is in all his glory; a Halovian man with glittering red eyes and a halo that spikes like a crown around his head. Firefly sighs, ready to agree, when Silver Wolf speaks again. "Plus, the arcade version has seats, and we've been walking around for a while." The tone is flat, but Firefly hears the intention: she's been walking outside of SAM for too long and Wolf knows that she needs the break from holding herself up.
There's a lump in her throat. It goes unspoken that Silver Wolf noticed her trailing behind, her delayed responses, and knew what Firefly needed without asking.
"Yeah," she says, quiet among the shrill chatter of the arcade machines. She knows her face is warm. "Let's go see."
As it turns out, Firefly is pretty good at Simulated Spheroid Racing: 26.
The character selection screen is a bit overwhelming, but she finds a character she likes the appearance of, a shy schoolgirl driving a huge golden spheroid that damages every other sphere it crashes into. Silver Wolf goes straight to the one who's apparently her 'main', a feminine figure with a mask covering her face and pink flames flickering across her tight racing jacket and sleek spheroid. (Firefly does tease her a little about the fact that she looks like Kafka. Silver Wolf just glares and denies it, which is as good as confirmation.)
Wolf sets it to a new track that looks like a Roboball arena first, from the Halovian's collab. Firefly's spheroid does immediately fall off a ledge, which makes her seat shake, which makes her yelp in surprise, which makes Silver Wolf laugh louder than the game's announcement that she'd also fallen off the ledge.
"Wolfie, look out," Firefly giggles, and Silver Wolf's gaze snaps back to her screen with a hiss of "shit shit shit" as she respawns.
They're evenly paced now, thoroughly behind their ten AI opponents, but that doesn't last long. Silver Wolf hits first within a minute; the game chimes happily when she finishes her lap at the front of the pack. "Ha," Wolf snorts as she watches the shiny red of their real-life mark's virtual spheroid careen off the map. "Gottem."
Firefly smiles, glancing over. Wolfie's laser-focused in, same as any game, hunched over the game's wheel like the screen's a few inches wide rather than two feet. It's nice to see her I-got-your-ass grin, even if Firefly sees it every time they're on a mission or playing a game. She doesn't usually get excited about games the way Silver Wolf does, but for this moment, she doesn't think about her life as SAM, she just... feels happy, next to Silver Wolf.
Returning to her own screen, Firefly crashes into the watery glass of the quick mermaid-themed spheroid, cracking its walls and forcing it to shudder to a slow roll. With that, she slips into third place, leaving the blazing red spheroid of the man they're here to assassinate between her and Silver Wolf.
The last lap begins, and no one's even close to the three of them. Firefly suspects that the Halovian's programmed to do well, rather than let players win; he seems the smug type to insist on it, from their research, and he has the money to back it. Firefly accelerates, ducks into the inside of a turn, and crashes into the red spheroid, denting its side and slamming it into the wall of the track. She laughs under her breath when "2nd place" flashes onto her screen, and she's just barely behind Silver Wolf.
"You aren't winning," Wolfie informs her flatly. Firefly huffs in frustration, weaving around the last couple of obstacles on the track, and--
Silver Wolf's spheroid shudders when Firefly's clips it from the side, and--
"I won!" Firefly gasps.
"You did," Silver Wolf sighs. She sounds put-upon, but she's smiling at Firefly with something warm in her eyes.
"I haven't played this one before and I beat you!" She beams, and Wolfie rolls her eyes a little.
"Yeah, yeah. You're the undisputed god of SSR 26." Silver Wolf's gaze slides to Firefly, where she's clapped her hands together. It really doesn't happen, in her defense--she rarely feels that she's on a level playing field with Wolf, but the arcade version has a completely different setup, and Firefly knows a thing or two about smashing things really well. After a moment of consideration, Silver Wolf offers: "Rematch?"
An hour and a handful of credits later, they leave the arcade. Firefly is carrying a plush cat, so long it slings over her shoulder, and twisting the little plastic toy she'd gotten at the prize counter around her fingers. Silver Wolf has a boxed controller for a new game system--the most expensive prize in the arcade--and a pixelized crown that reads "Taikiyan's #1 Gamer" across the front. (Firefly definitely saw two children with identical crowns running across the arcade as they left, but she's not going to tell Wolfie that her title's being threatened by the local youth.)
Silver Wolf drums her fingers on the box as they walk, an echo of the complicated pattern from the rhythm game she'd been playing. (Firefly had played too, but had lost. Badly.) She looks satisfied, rejuvenated by the blinking lights and excitement of the arcade. The pleased expression she wears isn't rare, exactly, but she doesn't smile like that around the other Hunters. It's always annoyance or triumph or amusement, and the true happiness Firefly gets to witness is rare.
Firefly smiles at Silver Wolf. Her muscles ache, the uncanny feeling of her bones and joints begging to stop existing. She knows that walking around with Silver Wolf is borrowing time she doesn't have, but she can't bring herself to feel bad about it. They'll fight tomorrow, fight to claim their own lives and choose their own endings, but right now they're indistinguishable from any other girls in Taikiyan's massive mall.
Silver Wolf glances over, wrinkles her nose. "Why're you staring at me?"
"No reason." At Silver Wolf's furrowed eyebrows, she amends, "I love you."
"Ugh. Fucking gay."
Firefly giggles, reaching out to lace their fingers together. Silver Wolf squeezes her hand. "You too." Her heart warms, free of the sluggish ache that engulfs the rest of her body. They'll fight tomorrow, but right now they're happy.