Stupid, he chastised himself, stupid.

Had he gotten so old as to make such basic mistakes?

Merlin blurred through his apartment, storing all important items and information and destroying the rest. He slipped on his old visual disruptor cloak and walked to the door. He rotated his joints, stretching and preparing for his sensors to indicate the best moment to flee. King-class augmentations flared under his skin as he mentally traced the path he was to take.

He only had to make it to one of the rebellion's emergency teleporters. From there he could flee to one of their bases, destroying the evidence along the way. He only had one shot.

Despite the situation's desperate nature, Merlin found it almost comforting, a throwback to those early days, when everyday was a struggle to survive. Before he met Earl, Kyoko's father. Before she had died. Merlin shuddered, the comforting feeling fleeing as quickly as it had come. He looked down at his hands in concern and surprise.

What was going on? Why was he thinking of her so much? He had made peace with what had happened. Was it some sort of mental attack?

He had no more time to contemplate as the small red light above the door began to flash. This time, he saw it instantly and reacted appropriately.

Activating every cloaking device he had, he sipped out of the door and vanished into the night like a ghost. Behind him, the last remnants of his home would play interference, redirecting the inquisitors before self-destructing.

Merlin ran through the night like a shadow. His apartment had been situated in the slums, only a floor off of the ground in a neighborhood long abandoned. As he fled, he frequently had to dodge large heaps of garbage and stumbling adicts, high off of bliss or nova. Thankfully, the rough asphalt provided decent grip as he ran, careful to control the force of his steps so as to not break it. Against his attempts at suppressing it, another night, his first time fleeing came to him. The night she had died.

He shook his head, banishing the memory. What the hell?! This must be some sort of mental attack. That made it all the more important he escaped and informed the rebellion of this.

Unfortunately, as soon as he finished that thought, one of his scanning devices alerted him to a pursuer

They had found him.

Immediately he upped his pace, dropping all attempts at stealth in favor of pure speed. He rushed forward faster than a pre-expansion car could even dream of reaching. It took skill to keep one's balance at such speeds, but Merlin had had ample practice. The streets become a blur as Merlin dedicated all he had to escaping, yet no matter what he did, they seemed to be gaining, the pursuers outside and the demons within.

A sense of desperation began to creep up on him, different from the comforting sense he had gotten earlier. That had been controlled, padded with assurance and confidence. This was more primal, the first stage of those final desperate moments where everything is put on the line. He would not be taken, not there. A shudder almost escaped him, one that would have surely thrown his balance off, before he suppressed it.

Not after what had happened to her.

The chase reached a new threshold as Merlin sensed more and more pursuers joining it, at least 3 with kings class augmentations. He almost let out a bitter chuckle. The empire had the augs the rebellion lacked in spade. Having access to the means of production definitely helped.

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Merlin’s moves became more frantic as he sensed pursuers up ahead as well, taking major risks in order to try and find a window to escape. All while fighting off the images of his dead family.

Finally, his chance came. One of the inquisitors with A-class augmentations wandered too far from his squad. He immediately corrected his course and drifted back to them, but by then Merlin had slammed through them like a bullet through glass, leaving shattered bodies in his wake.

Merlin felt a brief moment of elation at his sudden freedom. He was so close… just another minute.

Alas, life is not so kind.

The past reared its head and struck with unstoppable force. The memories of the fateful day came spilling back.

It was their first year in the rebellion and to be honest, Merlin wasn't exactly sure why they joined. Maybe because of their growing unease with the empire as they gained more information about it, maybe it was a desire for freedom from the restrictive policies of the empire that limited their research. Maybe it was a simple desire to be a part of something bigger than themselves. It didn’t feel real at the time.

Then Merlin came home to an empty house, the damning missive in the kitchen table, accusing his dear Beth of rebellion and sentencing her to restructuring, and it was all of a sudden painfully real. When she came back from restructuring a few days later, she wasn't Beth. She was just another empire lackey, stupid and loyal. Empty, like they had taken everything that made her Beth and scooped it out. He had tried to fix her, yet no matter what he did, it was like they had replaced her brain with another, but that was impossible. Inquisitors came for the others, but they never came for Merlin. Beth had kept his involvement secret till the end.

And he had repaid her, with a knife to the gut. He remembered that moment, the blood gushing like a waterfall and the animalistic fear in her eyes. For a second, he thought he saw a glimmer of the true Beth, deep within, glad to be freed, but it could just as easily be a hallucination, generated by a mind trying to cope with killing the love of his life.

He told himself it was needed, that if he didn’t, she would expose him and the list of contacts she’d somehow gotten her hands on. In the end it was hollow.

He had killed her with his own two hands.

In the present, Merlin reached out and squashed those memories with the full weight of his unfettered will. He was a beat too late and tripped, sliding along the pavement with the momentum of an ancient truck. He hit a wall with a muted boom, destroying it in the process.

He was back on his feet and running an instant later, but sometimes all it takes is a moment.

He was surrounded again, and he wouldn't get another lucky break like before.

Merlin cracked his neck, a purely symbolic gesture, face grim. If he couldn't run, he would fight. He would not be taken, not be turned into that thoughtless thing they had made Beth. He would fight to the end.

Three king-class inquisitors stood before him, along with a dozen A and B class, all of them supported by a swarm of autonomous drones. They raised ion rifles at him, and Merlin prepared for the fight of his life.

Below his skin, his augmentations bargain to whirl, preparing for battle. His hidden modifications activated, giving him an edge over other king-class beings. He prepared to attack first, every muscle tensing.

Then slow clapping echoed throughout the square. Merlin whirled around, desperately trying to figure out how somebody had gotten so close without him noticing.

“Not bad, Merlin Asbat, not bad. Few have necessitated my interference.”

He turned to the others, “I’m failing you all. You needed to strike before he had time to get into position. His augs can pack a nasty punch if you let them charge.”

Nobody pointed out the hypocrisy of him doing the same thing, but they didn't need to.

Merin’s face fell as he realized who this was.

He was simply known as the Hunter, and his hunts never failed. He had perhaps the highest success rate of capture in the centuries long history of the Final Empire.

Merlin desperately realized there was no escaping and switched to the backup plan.

Overload his communication module to get past the anti-message barrier and warn the rebellion of the mind attacks. Such an action would fry him, but that was the better course of action.

Better than restructuring.

Better than losing himself.

Mind made, he activated the sequence, his last thoughts of regret.

I’m sorry Kyoko…

Then he waited for the sweet oblivion of death. Nothing came. Horror filled him as he realized what had happened. The hunter had somehow disabled his augs.

Without hesitation, he grabbed a knife from his coat and tried to stab himself.

Only to find the hunter holding his arm. “Can’t have you getting away now, can we?”

No.

NO.

He would not-

Darkness.