There weren't a lot of words spoken between Coop and his uncle during the days following Kriger's display. In fact, it was weeks before Coop was comfortable enough to train and wrap his head around the challenge before him. During his downtime he disappeared into the stimnet, indulging in whatever vice he could through the virtual setting, knowing he could do so anonymously without the weight of being Coop Sabre. The 'trodes jacked into the small ports on his forehead and allowed him to disappear from everything, ignoring those messages from ole' Jack up on Luna asking if Coop would do them the honor of training there.

After watching those boys get torn to shreds back on Donical-4, facing Jack or any of those boys was difficult, not that they'd blame him for what happened. Still, Coop felt responsible and just wanted to be at home. Through his subconscious a message dinged from his uncle, asking when Coop would re-enter the actual world. Virtual Coop stood atop a grand tower, overlooking an approximation of old Birmingham in England, from well before things got this complicated and advanced. Birmingham now was a part of the greater London sprawl, a combined hub that became most of England, just like the Eastern seaboard of the US combined into New York and the other large hub cities. Everything inside the stimnet felt just as real as meatspace, and dying in here would feel pretty real, if that's what he really was gonna try.

"Kid, I need to override this shit, you aren't answering my messages," his uncle's voice broke his immersion. The scenery shimmered and his senses dulled into a cold numbness before being pulled back out into the real world.

"What the fucking hell?" It felt like he'd been sucked out of a tube and shot by a firehose, his uncle hovering over him and with a stern look on his face. "You didn't have to do that."

"Bullshit I didn't. You trying to off yourself in there again to see how it feels?"

"What do you even know?"

"Remember that training stim we invested in a while back?"

"Thought we uninstalled that piece of trash." That had been a strange experiment to train him for fights using AI constructs built around approximations of real fighters. Some zondian was selling them and it had been a giant waste of money, paling compared to actual training.

"No, well, sort of. Remember I could track what you were doing from it to give you pointers?"

"So you're spying on me?" Coop picked himself up and stomped into the bathroom, taking a piss with the door open, not caring about his uncle being in his flat. Wasn't like there was any privacy left in his life, anyway. "I'd prefer you didn't."

"Kid, I don't know if this is some way to psych yourself up or you're going through some shit here, but it ain't right."

"How about you step into the arena against Kriger next week, then? Tell me how you feel, you asshole."

"All right. All right, I get it. But whatever this is, it needs to end now. We've gotta get you ready for Kriger or whatever you think you were gonna feel in there... you're gonna feel it for real and that's not good for either of us."

"Fine, just let me get my bearings before we get back to the gym." Coop didn't smell great after a few days in the stimnet, but knew he'd be training soon and didn't want to bother with two showers in as many hours.

"Sure, right? May as well go call that girl of yours as well and relax even further after weeks fucking off in here and looking for a cheap thrill."

"Leave Sam outta this."

"You even call her?"

"She's fine, she knows where I'm at, how I am." It had been a while since he'd seen her. Things were complicated, they always were with him and he wasn't sure if it was his fault or not. "Let's just get to the gym, so I can hit something."

Pulling on a fresh shirt, Coop walked through the door and made sure his uncle stopped poking around, the two riding the elevator down. Inside there were multiple screens filled with ads, a soft neon glow that permeated the entire London sprawl, but felt worse in Birmingham than in the parts of Old London kept intact for preservation purposes. Both his uncle and his father grew up in Birmingham, back before it had integrated into the London sprawl and looked closer to what he'd seen in the stimnet.

"This place is a fucking dump, you know that?" His uncle chided. "You've got more money than any of us ever had, we can get outta here, get a nice place in Old London."

"Or this eye gets fucked up even worse, I can't see anymore and I'm like old Skidz trying to fight with one eye." Images flashed in his mind of Skidz and his gnarled up face, oozing brown blood. Relief overcame him when the elevator dinged and he was out of the confined space with his uncle and out onto the congested street, filled with people, cars and bullshit beyond Regis. They pushed their way through the bustling marketplace area on the bottom floor filled with street vendors and out onto the street, Coop taking in some fresh air, or at least fresh for him after being stuck in his flat for weeks. "Plus, you don't get this in Old London, do you?"

"Smells like shit, Coop."

"Didn't ask you, did I? I should be more pissed at you for the snooping, you know that, right?"

"Save it for the gym, kid."

He didn't bother answering him, just trotting forward down the street, stopping by a stand to grab a bite, sucking down the stale-tasting burrito while his uncle shook his head at his elite athlete eating street food, a topic they didn't broach anymore after the last blow-up. The projected sky beamed artificial cheer and sunshine, unlike whatever the skyline looked like outside of the sprawl and its projectors, making their brief walk a few blocks over insufferable after weeks of artificial light.

Although they called it a gym, it was more like an empty warehouse, filled with instruments of death. It was far beyond what was available to him when he was coming up and training up on Luna with Jack. The lights cascaded on, one-by-one illuminating the giant room to uncover the powered down battle bot sitting ominously in the center of the room. Coop whistled at the augments his uncle had on it, including the lone pincer on the back, the narrow limbs and the tail.

"Just like the real thing, huh?" he beamed.

"Sure is, you get Brent and the boys on this?" His childhood pal went into the mech business and Coop forgot no one he came up with, or at least he tried.

"Yeah, thieving bastards. Kaijutech is a helluva lot cheaper," his uncle said.

"No shit, but I don't know Kaijutech, do I?"

"Their rep is always breathing down my neck. Look, kid, they want to send us free shit, get us all set up. Wouldn't need to wait on your boy here and his flunkies to—"

"Look at the damned thing, why don't you?" Coop motioned towards the mech, a spitting image of Kriger. "Plus, nobody programs an AI like him."

"Whatever you say."

"Yes, it is whatever I say." Controlling his temper was getting more difficult now. First the spying and the condescension, now this. "You work for me, Regis. Sometimes I think you need to be reminded of that. You're a stubby little prick that didn't make it up on Luna, and whatever you think your role is here is going to your head."

"I... look, kid, I just—"

"Turn on the bloody mech already, let's get on with this. One week until Kriger. You got that?"

"Yeah, I got it all right."

"Good. Let's do this." A calm overcame him while his uncle powered up the bot, its eyes glowing red and Coop unable to fight the smile. "Oh yes, I'm ready for this!"