Cryak Combat 3 > 4

Marksmanship 7 > 8

>Hand-to-hand Combat 33 > 35

> Fist-Fighting 12 > 14

Takedowns 9 > 11

Cage Fighting > 1

Agility 29 > 30

Speed 37 > 38

Imperial Forms 11 > 12

Parallel Processing > 1

…

Recalibrating Battle Simulation…

Target(s) Added to Database:

Kider Mill

Kider Mill (Berserk Form)

Experience Fighting In Confined Spaces:

Increased…

Experience Fighting Larger Targets:

Increased…

Experience Fighting Humanoids:

Increased…

Experience Fighting…

Achievement(s) Unlocked:

Big Game Hunter (2)

Damage Against Larger Targets:

> +7%

>

> Chance For Successful Take Down Against Larger Targets:

>

> +7%

>

> Growth From Smaller Targets:

>

> -5%

Critical Hit!

> Weak-point Detection

>

> +10%

>

> Repeated Strikes Against Weak-points

>

> +1% Accumulating Damage

Simulated Combat

> Integration With Shadow Simulation

>

> +5%

…

Countless notifications kept flashing by on my Interface as I returned to New Hub’s streets, breaths ragged and heart pounding. It was only a few hours after midday, and the sharp daylight nearly blinded me. At least the constant glances that’d been coming my way — towards the scrawny, off-world kid that clearly screamed ‘fresh meat’ — were gone.

There were still gazes, but of a different kind.

Warning!

Stress Levels Approaching Fifth Threshold

Stat Loss, Imminent

Even as the crowd carefully parted before me — no one wanting to bump into the shirtless, blood drenched, madman — there were too many impressions bombarding my senses. Too much noise. Too many faces. And my oversensitive UI wasn’t helping.

To the thundering echoes of my pulse pounding in my ears, I staggered forward, more silhouettes parting before me as I let my Interface guide me through the crowd.

It knew where I needed to go as I pushed myself onto a smaller street, up some wooden stairs, and across a rickety walkway that swayed beneath my feet. I needed to get away from that crowd, and soon, I found a door that seemingly hadn’t been opened in weeks. Good enough.

Without wasting any precious time trying to pick the lock, I simply ripped the rusted thing open. The room within looked just as its outsides would’ve suggested.

It was somewhere between a storage unit and a bachelor’s retreat. The floor was littered with moldy boxes. A piss-stained mattress was tucked into one of the corners, alongside several empty cans and cracked vials. And, although the room was a single space, there was a toilet out there in the open as well – made for some legless species and carrying even more vile stains than the rest of the room combined.

Despite the nauseating smell, however, and despite the continued creaking of springs from the room above — heavy moans and angered yells that I didn’t know if they came from the same people — I’d barely kicked the door shut as I sank down with my back against it.

Eyes closed, legs crossed, and mind centered, I drew a deep breath, trying to ignore the putrid air filling my lungs.

I tried to ignore a lot of things, the pain of my bruised ribs included. There was the cry of some infant, mixing with a gurgling language I didn’t understand. There were angry conversations in the alley outside, alongside the general noise of a crowd that, although distant, remained ever present.

Another deep breath, and I pushed back against the chaos within my head. Center yourself. Center your mind. There’s only me, and no one else…

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

I’d never gotten past that first chapter of the book Celian had lent me, but this exercise, I must’ve repeated over a hundred times by now.

Breathe in, breathe out. Feel not your senses, feel only your mind… There I found her.

It wasn’t hard, especially not when she was stirring like this, suffocating every other thought floating in my subconscious mind.

It was a presence as vast and daunting as Celian’s own, which might’ve been fitting as he was the one who’d cursed me with this burden.

Another deep breath, and I could feel her slide back into her slumber.

Stress Levels, Falling…

4…

3…

2…

Opening my eyes, another new, unnerving notification had appeared on my Interface as well.

C0?#!n93n¢y, Integration Rate: > 3%

With a deep groan, I buried my head in my hands.

In the end, Celian had just handed me a book, pushed on me this burning mess, and fucked off without saying anything. Whenever my focus slipped even a little, she would begin to stir.

In a sense, it was my own fault for not noticing how my stress levels had been shooting up ever since I set foot on this planet. I wasn’t used to being around this many people, and the bombardment of different impression of my UI hadn’t helped either.

With one final, controlled breath, I watched the last of my stress induced conditions disappear. I needed to be more careful in the future. Whenever I let her slip out, there was bound to be blood in the air.

“Be careful, my ass.” I scoffed as I got to my feet.

Some part of me was all too willing to go along with her murderous tendencies — a part of me called Yamien Silmund.

Even now, the space hobo kept chuckling to himself, shadow boxing within my mind as he relived that same moment when we’d broken Kider Mill’s nose over, and over again.

Telling myself I’d settle for an easy fight was like saying I’d only take a single sip after the bottle was opened. I needed to stay away from my old vices.

These days, too many things seemed willing to push me down a dark path, and if I let them, I might end up killing someone who didn’t deserve it.

Looking down at my own hands, I could only grimace.

Or I might end up killing myself…

Even if my nails and bones had grown to become sharp and hardened like the chitinous claws of a Cryak, the same couldn’t be said about the fleshy parts surrounding them. I’d ripped myself open quite badly.

Not to mention how my ribs were still bruised, how my ears rung from a slight, but persistent concussion, and how my neck creaked whenever I turned it. I was drenched in sweat and blood to boot, and in a few short hours, I’d need to meet up with Jenna and Mikayes.

Brilliant…

𐫰 𐫰 𐫰

“A fashion change?” Mikayes greeted me.

He was standing out on the street, fiddling with a coin that kept falling to the ground as he tried to roll between his fingers.

Evening had fallen on the back of a hundred reflective satellites gradually angling themselves away from the planet’s surface, giving the illusion of dusk. Not that the crowd around us seemed to care much about that darker shade of night.

A thousand commercial lights were already coming to life to chase away the need to sleep.

“I felt like trying out something new.” I shrugged, not feeling like diving into the details. “How come you’re the one out here? Was Jenna afraid to leave the fox with the geese?”

“Something like that,” Mikayes said, though his smile only lasted a second. He tried to roll the coin once more, only to fail with a click of his tongue. “A few things happened, which you would’ve known if you were here in time.”

“This place was hard to find,” I said.

It really hadn’t been. Not with my UI, at least. What had been hard to find, on the other hand, was a place that would let me shower, bandage my hands, and get a change of clothes without completely ripping me off.

Mikayes glanced over my hands, and then my lip which looked cracked no matter what I’d done to it. “Anything I need to worry about?”

“No.”

“Then tag along,” he said. “It’s a bit of a walk.”

Over the coming minutes, he would end up leading me up a rusted set of stairs, across a couple of less busy bridges, through bustling department stores and grated walkways.

It was a maze only experience could guide you through. He even bought me some self-applying concealer from a store in passing.

“Just to keep Jenna from fussing needlessly,” he said, tossing it may way as we reached an unmarked elevator. “She’s not exactly a fan of the crew I ended up hiring. So, things are bound to be tense up there even without you showing up with a cracked lip.”

𐫰 𐫰 𐫰

What greeted us at the end of that elevator ride left me frozen in place. “Is this really the right place?” I asked, but Mikayes had already walked out ahead of me, straight into a flowery cafe of ribbons and pale wood.

Cute book shelves lined any wall not occupied by tall windows, looking out over the darkening city below. There were stuffed animals as well, and the smell of coffee.

If I hadn’t just recognized Jenna’s silhouette by one of those windows, I would’ve been certain that the man was trying to prank me.

“Down here for more drinks?” Mikayes called out to her.

“More like I’m down here to keep myself from killing someone,” Jenna huffed in response, though her face did ease up a bit as she saw me. “You go speak to them, and I’ll get Yamien here something to eat.”

“And drinks?”

With a glare to follow after him, Mikayes hurriedly set off towards a petite staircase I hadn’t noticed, guarded by some large-eyed girbuths and rabbit carved from fine wood.

There were more of the animals, stretching cats and jumping fawns, as Jenna ushered me towards a counter fitted between a disarray of booths and multi-colored lamps.

The smell of food, coffee, and pastries grew stronger.

“Don’t order something ridiculous!” Mikaeus called after us, but Jenna had already waved him off.

“Did you eat anything yet?” she asked me as if the interruption had never happened, now leading me towards a pierced woman in full black skirt, leather vest, and heavy boots, standing by that counter.

Her monotonous color scheme was broken by a few stripes of bright pink, finding their way into a wild mane of hair that managed to fit braids, twin tails, and asymmetrical bangs all the while not quite reaching down her shoulders.

She had cat ears as well, twitching to every sound that filled the cafe — murmured conversation, subdued music that put a rhythmic heartbeat to the place, and bubbling beverages that were automatically poured into a variety of cups and glasses whenever an order was placed.

As we came closer, she flashed us a toothy smile, showing cat-like teeth as well. Her eyes were a vibrant green with slit pupils.

“Welcome to Pariah’s Refuge, what can I do for you?” she asked in a sultry voice. “A menu, a recommendation, or should I just point you towards the toilets?”

“Six peat ales and, for this young gent…” Jenna put a hand on my shoulder, and as I glanced toward her, I realized that she wanted me to order something for myself as well. “Did you eat, or no?”

With my mind having been briefly occupied thinking about peat ale – if it was the same dark, musty beverage I knew, and if they’d let me order it as well – the cat-woman spoke up, “If you’re unsure, sweetheart, I’d say go with the Monked Sundae. It has a little bit of everything, and I’ve yet to encounter a single costumer who was disappointed after ordering it.”

Jenna leaned forward to look closer at the colorful picture occupying most of the menu. “You do it with extras?”

“Of course.” The woman gave us a wide smile that showed us even more of her teeth.

“Then cram as much as you can onto it,” Jenna said, shifting to the right payment option on her UI. “Our boss is paying.”

𐫰 𐫰 𐫰

Forced to balance a ridiculously oversized dessert up several narrow stairs and walkways, I found myself tuning down the training programs on my UI once more. I didn’t want to end up tipping the mountain of berries, chocolates, and sprinkles onto some unsuspecting customer below because of an ill-timed shock.

Jenna could probably have carried the sundae with far more ease than I could, despite the large pints of beer she was holding. I knew there were some balance gyros installed into her grafts, and her hands were certainly larger than mine.

Still, she opted to have her one hand free to occasionally wipe up some whipped cream that was running down the sundae’s side, or to pick away at a cherry that was dangerously close to falling.

All of which disappeared into her mouth with satisified smacks as she kept insisting that I was doing a great job, a certain motherly smile never leaving her lips. With a sigh, I didn’t object.

She seemed far more at ease now compared to when we arrived, and even if I’d grown a foot taller and matured significantly since we met — outwardly, at least — she still liked to treat me like that same eleven year old boy I’d been back then.

In her eyes, seeing me waddle up the stairs with a dessert that was larger than my head was probably nothing short of adorable. Though, she did stiffen up significantly as we reached our booth, and so did I.

Sat in secluded alcove between stacked bookcases and a back wall entirely made up of glass, there were five people in total, four of which I did not recognize.

Two men, and two women, and rather than lecture them like Jenna had clearly hoped he would, Mikayes was eagerly grilling one of them about how to properly roll a coin between his fingers.

The man wore a wide brimmed hat, and the moment we’d gotten in view, dark eyes had turned our way – eyes that locked onto me.

There was no cigar. No silver ring upon his fingers, but even so, my UI was working overtime, filling my vision with blinking lights.

It couldn’t be…