Ryuko’s mind flashed back to the battle at Nudist Beach, to the moment when Senketsu had chosen her body over his safety and their bond had been rewritten a thousand times in blood. She felt Senketsu, warm and bewildered, his fabric humming with a strange new texture. If they accepted the DLC, their world might gain allies and stages, weird cosmetics, and new techniques. But the price could be a slow bleed of identity, pixelation eroding the sharp edges of who they were.

They left the arena with the taste of salt and victory on their lips, knowing that battles could come in pixels as well as in blood, but that some threads were not to be overwritten.

A ripple of static answered her. The arena’s screens surged, and a new fighter spawned — a version of Satsuki herself, but softer, sporting an emperor’s robe textured like a streaming ad. Behind her stood a girl whose uniform read ‘Player 2’ in glowing glyphs, eyes wide like a cursor.

“You fought without asking for help,” Satsuki said, something almost like approval warming her tone.

Satsuki took a step forward, voice even. “We will not be overwritten.”