Exiting the VR-chamber, Ronin dried himself off, then headed over towards his weightlifting area. The VR-chamber, which had previously been enough to tire him out, was no longer sufficient and his body now needed more punishment for him to progress with his stances.

Weight plates, power lifting machines and barbells littered the floor, occupying a large section besides his bed. Originally, the area had been used to house ship construction equipment, but this building was his home now, and he needed the space.

If push comes to shove, I’ll just expand the factory, Ronin thought, walking over to the squat rack.

He wasn't planning on moving out anytime soon and, for now, he had all the equipment he needed and space enough to house it anyways.

He began loading large 100-kilogram plates onto the barbell upon the rack. He’d had to personally 3-D print those weights himself as his body grew stronger. And as for his barbells? After his normal steel ones began bending, he’d been forced to print the new ones out of Kangdarium alloy, the same material his warsuit was made from. In addition, to make sure the weightlifting rods wouldn't bend; he'd even chemically treated them after, hardening them even further.

After placing 7 plates on each side of the bar, he fastened them tight with clamps, then placed his shoulders under the now 1.4-ton heavy weight. With a push from his legs, he lifted it off the rack, then began doing squats.

While exercising, he pinged his Uninet-2000, pulling up the racing ships he and Simons had been considering modifying. There was design work to do, and if they didn't make a ship quick, Haraken might back out of the deal.

No way I'm letting that happen, Ronin promised, inspecting the hologram before him. Hmm, considering Haraken's tendency of making sharp turns, the Eluvian might be better...

By now, they’d narrowed the candidates down to two ships: A Penroxian-G54 model, 6 meters in length and about 3 meters wide at the tail end. It got a bit wide there at the end due to the heavy thruster installed on it, but its designers had done a good job, and it fit in with the overall form of the ship.

The other candidate, the Eluvian-A7 was smaller and had less engine space. In return, it could easily accommodate side thrusters. Though this ship was slower than the Penrox, it had much higher mobility, and if Ronin knew Haraken, he'd drive fast enough by himself anyways.

He bought the patent for the Eluvian, then finished up the set of squats. Putting on a 350 kilograms heavy body vest, he headed for the pull up rack — now, it was time for the upper body to take some punishment…

image [https://i.imgur.com/EBoScIM.png]

Returning from school, Scrabby tried his best to show a happy face. No matter how hard things got, his mother always showered him with hugs and kisses if he smiled when he came back home. Though embarrassing, he secretly enjoyed it — not that he would ever admit to that. Heroes like Ronin stood brave in the face of the scary and sad things and most assuredly did not need a mother to hug them!

Though he didn’t fit in at school for now, he’d been told that things would eventually get better. He hoped that meant soon.

Opening the door and entering his new house, he did his best to smile, but his mother... Why was she standing alongside the wall like that, vacantly staring into the air?

Strange… she always came to him with a warm smile when he entered. With the rest of her body still unmoving, his mother turned her head eerily as a smile began slowly forming across her lips.

But this smile was different.

Scrabby started shivering as dread and confusion filled him. Was this his mother?

“Come here little one,” the woman said.

No, it couldn't be! Though the sound of her voice was the same, the way she’d said it…

“If you don’t come to me… I’ll come to YOU!”

Scrabby began hyperventilating as confusion turned to terror.

step, step, step, step

The woman moved unnaturally fast, reaching him in an instant. Swiftly, he was grabbed by the neck, and he heard her sharply draw breath as she did. It was almost as if she was holding herself back for some reason. She lifted his tiny form up into the air and he smelled a strong stench of old sweat ooze off the woman. It was thick and oily in texture, almost entering his nose like a liquid as it enveloped him. She drew him in close and Scrabby could feel a wet tongue travelling up the side of his chin.

“Yesss, you will do just nicely,” the woman hummed softly in pleasure, any similarity to his real mother now completely gone.

image [https://i.imgur.com/EBoScIM.png]

Ronin was in the middle of doing his Kalvrakian embrace stances when he got the message.

Apparently, something was wrong with Scrabby, and from Elsa's message, she'd sounded really worried about it. She didn’t go into details on what it could be though. She'd also warned him not to contact the authorities.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

What could cause her to act like that? This was her own son they were talking about. And why would she send me such a cryptic message? He wondered, walking over to the heromaker suit.

As he walked into the flame-patterned armor, its gears and servos worked as it closed in around him. Stepping out onto the runway, he entered a shuttle he'd called down earlier, then paid the driver as he leaned back into a seat.

Hopefully this was only some minor thing, and Elsa was worrying over nothing.

The peaceful, open streets common to the higher districts, passed by underneath as the ship took off. He saw neighbors greeting neighbors, people smiling and children playing outside. There was a casual ease in the way people moved here, very much unlike his old apartment down in district 91.

As the shuttle landed, he walked up a couple of floors, arriving in front of the small family’s apartment.

He tapped the door a few times:

Knock, knock, knock

“I’ll be there in a second!” He heard Elsa shout from within the apartment.

She did sound a little distressed, but he’d expected more — considering the situation. After some tussle and bustle, the door opened, and he was met by a woman who could only be described as a shadow of her former self. There was a foul smell following her and she looked bedraggled and tired. There was a flicker in her eyes as she saw his suit, but with his headache being the way it was, he didn’t notice.

“I can’t express how happy I am that you came over!” Elsa said with a shaky voice.

“I told you to call if something ever came up. Now, how is he?”

“It would be better for you to come in and see for yourself.” She made way, allowing him entrance into the home.

As he stepped in, then exited the power armor, he saw him. Scrabby’s small body was laying down on the living room table, eyes vacant and unresponsive as they stared up at the ceiling. The child’s skin was deathly pale, looking as if he'd already passed away. Fortunately, Ronin could see that the kid's chest was still moving.

At least he’s breathing, Ronin inwardly sighed.

“Please, sit,” Elsa said, gesturing at the sofa besides Scrabby.

As Ronin lowered himself down, sinking into the soft cushions, she came over with a couple of hot drinks, handing one over to Ronin before sitting down herself.

Taking a sip from the cup, he tapped the table a couple of times as he stared at the mother questioningly.

“Alright, I’m here now. Why haven’t you called a medical professional? I’ve already told you I’ll pay for these sorts of things.”

Elsa caressed her cup nervously, then began: “before he became like this, as he was progressively getting worse, he kept repeating that the school doctor had given him something bad. When I pressed for him to tell me more, he said that the doctor had mentioned something about a vaccine...”

Ronin wasn’t exactly a fan of the authorities, but this sounded farfetched, even to him. Dangerous medical trials on children from the higher districts? No, there were plenty enough test subjects in the slums for that.

“I would have been suspicious too,” Elsa argued, noticing Ronin’s skepticism. “— but Scrabby’s wise beyond his years. You have to be if you are to survive where we came from.”

Ronin shook his head. “You could have called a private clinic. To just let him deteriorate like this…”

He felt himself becoming lightheaded and a sense of numbness followed as he placed the cup back on the table.

Elsa rose up and walked over, touching him on the shoulder. “Thats why I called you, Ronin. I knew you’d know what to do in a situation like this.”

Ronin felt himself becoming weaker, it felt almost as if something was leaving him. What was this? The way Elsa had spoken… her cadence. Her arguments for not calling the authorities. The way he seemed to be weakening right now. He ran back everything that had happened from the moment he'd knocked on the door…

Something was wrong with all of this.

He rose up, attempting to push Elsa’s hand away from his shoulder. It wouldn’t budge.

Every other thought was cast aside, and he gave the woman a hard look.

“Who are you?!” He snarled, grabbing the woman's neck, then began squeezing.

“So, you’re not just a brute after all,” the impostor chuckled, her voice now raspy. “Though I’d have to say... I’m quite surprised. I put enough sedatives into that drink to put down a dozen men... For you to still be standing.”

Ronin felt as if his hand was weakening, and he tried pulling it away.

No! It's like with her hand on my shoulder. It’s stuck! A terrifying realization began dawning on him as memories began locking into place, forming a picture of what was going on. The small girl he and the Hammers encountered as they breached Spectre's compound. The strange and inexplicable actions of Elsa. His uncle and Argus’s warnings…

That little girl, it was Ghost Butcher — it has to be. And he’s here right now, wearing Elsa's skin!

Ronin’s mind raced as all kinds of various techniques flashed past his eyes. There had to be something suitable in his repertoire. A way out of this.

Hadn’t Sleeping Empress used a pretty effective punch at close distances like this? That could work. He didn’t have willpower like her to aid him, but he’d seen the basic movements of the technique, and it should be feasible.

As Ronin felt himself weakening further, he took a deep breath, then let it out as he relaxed every single muscle he had. Imagining his body to be a fluid, he reached the highest state of relaxation he could, then, in an instant, strained every single muscle he had as he exploded into action.

Twisting his back leg, he generated movement, accelerating it further as he twisted his hips. His core moved, his upper body moved, his shoulders moved, his arm moved, his wrist moved. Almost every single muscle in his body flowed with coordination as they all worked together for one purpose, and one purpose alone — to make his punch stronger.

BOOM!

As the closed fist hit its mark, Specter lost his grip, flying across the room, then crashed heavily into the wall. Ronin could see a big wound right below the man’s ribcage, right where his punch had landed.

He took a step towards Specter, but faltered, his leg giving out as he fell down on one knee.

Not good, how much of me did he take, he thought, reminded of the dark room at the end of Specter's lair. This man — no, this creature wasn’t human. He looked at the hand which had held Specter's neck. It was covered in microscopically small holes.

“You’re a skinwalker,” Ronin said, looking at the wounded alien with contempt.