A scream shattered through the air, followed by an explosion. Another body splattered down in front of Adam. It was charred like burnt steak.

Another man unloaded his gun into the dust cloud. The wind kicked up, obscuring his words, leaving nothing but the raw force of his roar. He was cut off with a wet squelch. Whatever was in the dust cloud executed its target in seconds, throwing around more of its explosives.

Adam heard a sharp creaking noise. He turned back to the bodies.

One moment, they were rotting meat. The next, red wisps rose from their torsos, sucking up the flesh and fat before rearranging the resulting red miasma like a sculptor with clay. A hiss, a creak, and a slobbering sound that could only come from the flesh—two wraiths emerged.

Adam fired at the first, two laser rounds piercing its torso. It tipped its head back and vomited mist. Adam rolled to the side, still firing, as the second wraith shrieked and charged with its arms out. He prepared to retaliate with a kick or a shot.

A hail of gunfire shredded the wraith to pieces. The unknown assailant dashed out of the dust cloud and slammed its head against the ground. It then pointed a finger at the remaining wraith. A beam of light flew out of the appendage and vaporized the wraith, starting from the fleshy mass atop the head.

Adam coughed as light and dirt assaulted him. He scrambled back, intending to vault over the fence and escape. The unknown assailant blocked his path.

"Get back, you damn—" His vision cleared. His words died in his throat with the swiftness of a guillotine.

There was the body of an adolescent girl beneath the dripping blood and wounds. A young college student; someone who should have smiled politely and bid him good day, instead of tearing bone fragments off her face before stomping towards him. One of the wraiths crawled towards her. Without missing a beat, she spun around and crushed the wraith’s head with her foot, this time popping it like a balloon.

He took a step back. The dust receded from her face. He failed to take another one.

She was about as tall as him, dressed in the tatters of military grab. Once lustrous blonde hair ran ragged with red trails leading the ends. A rifle had fused with her right arm, a network of purplish veins feeding into the chamber. The other hand held a sword, its blade serrated.

A patch on her uniform swished upward. WAR MAIDEN, the label read.

It was her. The one whose form the dream girl borrowed. The person he was supposed to save. The monster who would kill him, according to Miriam.

He felt the sun on his back, tasted the vapour of his breath, and noticed the specks of dried blood and grime on the War Maiden’s uniform. Move, he told himself. Move, move, move! His legs imitated frozen blocks instead. An invisible pressure, almost physical, pinned him on the spot.

The War Maiden leaned her head forward and peered at him with those horrible, hexagonal pinpricks of eyes. The pupils shifted around the irises like a mass of angry bees. A grinding sound emerged from her mouth. Then, she reached out with her free arm and brushed her hand across his right cheek.

Adam’s scream overpowered the sound of his handgun. He pumped all of its battery straight into the War Maiden’s chest. He smashed open the Augmentation Foci, as the abomination staggered, and forced out [Hacking]. The process got as far as the sensory tunnel before a sharp pain electrified his synapses and he was ejected back into reality.

Cannot hack into [War Maiden *#&234?@]! The current [Hacking] Augmentation is beneath the required rank!

The War Maiden’s mouth twisted in the facsimile of a snarl. The shots had failed to even knock her down. He ejected the battery from his handgun and hurled it at her. Then, he ran.

Give me the [Reinforced Physique] augmentation, NOW!

[Reinforced Physique]: Improves the structure of the bones and muscles as well as hardening the skin, allowing the User to soak up more trauma. Category: Skin, Muscle, Bone

Installing [Reinforced Physique]…

Hexagon lines shimmered across his outer layer. They crackled and hummed as tiny machines in his flesh tore and reconstructed his skin. The War Maiden swung down her blade. A flash of light—and the ground beneath Adam’s feet exploded.

Time slowed down as he soared. He witnessed a group of men fire the last of their ammunition into the War Maiden. She took the blows, then sliced a man’s head off. The last ran.

A hole lay in the incoming wall. He crashed straight through it and all went black.

----------------------------------------

His consciousness resurfaced into pain. It wrapped around him like a cocoon, stretching down from his head all the way to his knees. There were shelves, broken lights and fallen boxes. A warehouse. A pile of soft bags and empty boxes from a fallen shelf had cushioned his descent.

He tried to stand up and immediately regretted it.

Heavy damage sustained. Ribcage and left arm have been fractured! Please seek medical attention immediately!

Status!

Vitality: 25%.

He only lost three-quarters? Because he felt at least a dozen times worse.

Experienced (Combat) acknowledged: +30%.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Ain’t that the cherry on top.

Bag. Where was his bag? Torn apart by the blast, with most of the contents gone. All that was left was the regenerative syringe and a single roll of bandages. Adam uncapped the syringe and plunged the tip straight into his bloodstream. A chill ran through him. Several joints popped.

Regenerative solution injected. Vitality is being restored.

He leaned back against the boxes. ADOSCH was unharmed, displaying his newly installed augmentation. His eyelids fluttered and he refused to let them close. The War Maiden. Where was she? His surroundings were still, but the sounds of battle still raged on outside. How long until she caught up?

The hell am I even supposed to do? He slumped back down on the pile. She’s gonna cut my head off and that’ll be it.

How, in the name of all that was holy, was he supposed to ‘save’ a monster like that? He couldn’t even pretend this was a dream.

Transmission detected. Source: Miriam Pereia. Would User Adam Westfield like to receive?

The popup flickered in place. Adam stared at it, then nodded.

"You still alive, civvie?" Miriam’s voice floated through. He sat up straighter, grunting. Vitality was at half now. It would have to do. "I trust you encountered the War Maiden."

"You know." Adam began. "Telling me that there was a monster out there who could fire explosions from her fingertips would’ve been real helpful."

"It wouldn’t have stopped her from blasting you to pieces. Or not, considering you’re still talking. How is that, by the way?"

"You can’t see me?"

"Nope, no cameras in the warehouse. Most of them are bust."

"Augs. I installed one to reinforce my outside when I ran." Adam said.

"Impossible. That would’ve had to occur within seconds."

"It happened. Take it or leave it." Adam said.

Miriam scratched her head, then against her desk with her elbows, her black fringe overshadowing her face. The pale blue light of the monitor revealed scraggles in her hair, as if she hadn’t showered for weeks.

"So…" she said, after a while. "You want to confess your last rites? I’m not a disciple, but I can listen."

Adam’s head jerked up. "Are you getting off to me dying?"

"No!" Miriam cried. "But what else are you supposed to do? You encountered the War Maiden. She defeated you. You had a good run, but you’ve lost, civvie!"

"Quit acting like you give a crap." Adam said, "Hey, here’s a question for you: how many other dudes did you send to their deaths?"

"I didn’t send anyone! I tried to help them, thank you very much. But half of them were torn to bits by the monsters, while the others fell to the War Maiden, like you. She slices their heads off and buries their bodies in the ground."

"So you gave up," Adam said. "Must’ve been fun, fucking around with my life from your little comfortable seat over there."

Miriam glared. "Are you implying that you could’ve beaten the War Maiden if I helped you? Don’t be ridiculous. Know your limits!"

Adam rolled his eyes. "Tell that to the dead, woman."

Miriam let out a hiss and slammed her mug on the table. "Shut your mouth." Miriam snapped back. "You think it’s comfortable here? You think I enjoyed watching the life fade bit by bit from my fellow Astraeans, blood pooling around them, trapped in this disaster of a world a million star-spans from my home? You’re just a civvie who knows nothing about what happened!"

Her breaths came out in ragged puffs. Adam reclined back, and let her finish. "Yeah, I don’t know shit about this base. But consider this, Miriam. At least those guys weren’t the only person who ever gave a rat’s ass about you; get what I mean?"

Miriam flinched. She averted her eyes. Adam’s head pounded in the silence. The image of the War Maiden, corruption seeping from every facet of her body, sent shivers down his lower jaw and spine. His nerves protested at him not to move. He couldn’t win, so just curl up and hide. Maybe the end will be short and quick.

His sister’s pendant, still untouched, dangled from his neck. His fingers wrapped around the stone. He squeezed his eyes shut. Counted to ten. Remembered.

"To hell with that noise."

Miriam let out a bitter chuckle. "Don’t tell me you’re going to fight her."

"Beats sitting around doing nothing," Adam said.

"You have less than a one-in-a-million chance!"

"That isn’t zero."

"It’s suicide, civvie!"

Funny, that. The United States Marine Corps mortality rate was eight in a thousand, roughly over two hundred thousand personnel per year. He had read about other avenues for his future back in juvie hall and chose none of them. He didn’t think much of it at the time, rationalizing that his fighting skills and tough exterior were perfect for the military, but now…

"Seriously, do you have any idea what a War Maiden is capable of? Even the weakest ones have the strength of a dozen trained soldiers! Their mystics are beyond what a man like you could learn at your age. And the one out there is seeping corruption from head to pore! You’d have better luck trying to lift a star with bare hands."

A beer sounded about nice. Followed by a chicken sandwich or a meat pie…did this base have any rations? There certainly wasn’t anything edible in this junk pile. He flicked his Status open.

"Vitality is at 50%. Experience is almost full." He said.

"Excuse me?"

"That’s what the numbers say," Adam said. "They’re from my harness."

"Harness…you have a combat harness installed?"

"Apparently. Maybe if I do something and gain enough experience, it’ll unlock a hidden feature inside my harness. This is a military base, right? There’s gotta be a high-powered railgun lying around or something. I’ll burn a scar so bad, she’ll see my middle finger for the rest of her miserable life! That’s how the Pitbull of Steeldale rolls, Miriam!"

He clutched his aching stomach and laughed. It rang like bells all the way down into Miriam’s hidey-hole. Down on his luck, trapped in a dangerous situation, with no help besides himself. It was like working a deal in the slums all over again. The warehouse was a night street, the gang enforcer was the War Maiden, and his knife was a futuristic laser gun.

"Don’t need to kill her. I can get away or hide, too. Sit back and enjoy the show!"

Miriam opened and closed her mouth like an asphyxiating fish. "Insane. Your head is rotten."

He shrugged. His head was either clear or he’d experienced so much grief it looped back to something resembling stability. "If she kills me, it’ll be fast. If she doesn’t, I win."

His body whined and protested and he slapped the complaints down until it got up and moved. He had talked a big game, but how was he supposed to back it up? He started by observing his new surroundings.

The interior was a large warehouse, blocked from the inside by rubble and larger than Storage B. All sorts of items were scattered across the ground. Sealed packages, spare computer parts, empty crates…not much were of use to him.

He found another regenerative syringe and a set of medical supplies in a corner, next to a fridge full of toxic chemicals.

More strewn clothes were scattered across the floor. Many were near the wreckage blocking the accident. A queasy sensation rolled through his mouth as he sifted through them. Kids like him ended in juvie for a reason, but even he had standards.

What’s this?

Someone had dragged a plastic table over to the back of the room. Adam traced a sigil of inscribed hexagons atop each other, coalescing into a singular point. The white paint had a grungy yet slick texture and smelled of iron. An officer’s uniform, pauldrons and all, was draped across the left side.

‘I pray for Her Prudence to lead my brethren here.’ A message scrawled beneath the sigil. "We have fallen in this terrible world, but the faith in our homeworld is eternal. Let what is contained here be a new bulwark against the evil walking these lands. Succeed us, conquer our failings, and one day return to beneath Her wings."

Resting atop the table was a cluster of stardust that fell to earth. The image of a hand and a cube was contained within. The cluster vibrated and hummed as Adam reached for it.

A new Mystic Imprint has been detected. The Mystic Core is available and suitable for integration process. Proceed?