The moment Jewels hit send, the whole terminal lit up red.
"Ah shit. They tracked us, shouldn't of responded." Jewels let out a sigh.
Then, the room exploded.
Not literally—at least, not yet. But the very fabric of space in front of them ripped open like someone had taken a box cutter to reality. A swirling vortex of blue light expanded outward, distorting the air with a low, vibrating hum.
Julio immediately raised his gun. "Oh, fuck me."
Jewels groaned. "I knew that was too easy."
Then, with an almost comical pop, a man stepped through the portal.
He was tall—unnervingly so, his lanky frame stretching past two and a half meters. His body was thin enough that it looked like a stiff breeze might snap him in half, yet he moved with the deliberate ease of someone who knew they were the most dangerous person in the room. A black suit hugged his wiry frame, complete with polished dress shoes and a top hat that looked way too clean to belong on a derelict city-ship. His face was long and pale, with sharp cheekbones and mechanical blue eyes that glowed faintly.
But the most noticeable part? His arms.
Sleek, segmented metal replaced flesh, each limb moving with inhuman precision as he adjusted the cuffs of his suit. The way the fingers flexed, it was clear that these weren't just prosthetics—they were weapons.
The man took one step forward and tipped his hat ever so slightly.
"Mr. Dunce," he introduced himself flatly.
Julio immediately fired.
The bullet barely left the barrel before one of those metal hands snatched it out of the air. Mr. Dunce examined the round for a second, then flicked it aside like it was a gum wrapper.
Jewels blinked. "Okay, that's some bullshit."
Julio, still holding his gun, pointed at Mr. Dunce. "You ever hear of knocking?"
Mr. Dunce tilted his head slightly. "No."
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Jewels crossed her arms. "You're telling me you never knock?"
"No."
Julio scoffed. "Damn, your social skills must be amazing."
"They are sufficient."
Jewels and Julio shared a look. This guy was off.
Mr. Dunce took another step forward, his glowing blue eyes locking onto Jewels. "You are unauthorized."
Jewels snorted. "Yeah? No shit, buddy. This whole ship's unauthorized. It's been floating around for centuries."
Mr. Dunce didn't blink. "Unauthorized."
Julio groaned. "Oh, he's one of those people."
Jewels smirked. "Oh yeah. Real rule-follower. Probably calls customer service when his milk expires a day early."
Julio nodded. "And reports people for jaywalking."
Jewels leaned in conspiratorially. "I bet he calls it 'unlawful pedestrian traversal.'"
Mr. Dunce remained motionless. "Incorrect. I call it 'crosswalk violation.'"
Jewels grinned. "He answered. He actually answered."
Julio nodded, impressed. "That's dedication to the bit."
Then, without warning, Mr. Dunce moved.
One second he was standing still, the next he was right there.
His mechanical hand slammed into Julio's gut with enough force to send him flying. Julio crashed into the near wall, leaving a dent in the metal before slumping to the floor, wheezing.
Jewels barely had time to react before Mr. Dunce's other hand wrapped around her throat and lifted her off the ground.
"Hey—ack—what the fuck!" She kicked uselessly, but his grip didn't budge.
Mr. Dunce stared at her, his blue eyes scanning her face like she was a specimen under a microscope. "You are unstable."
Jewels clawed at his metal fingers. "Wow—real—observant—"
Mr. Dunce frowned slightly. "You touched something."
Jewels wheezed. "I touch a lot of things."
Mr. Dunce's grip tightened. "Something you should not have."
Julio, still slumped against the wall, raised a weak hand. "I can confirm. She definitely touches things she shouldn't."
Jewels, even as she was being choked, managed a thumbs-up.
Mr. Dunce narrowed his glowing eyes. "Your neural patterns are… irregular."
Julio coughed. "That's one way to say 'completely fucked.'"
Mr. Dunce ignored him, still focused on Jewels. His grip loosened slightly, letting her gasp for air. "What did you find?"
Jewels, still struggling to breathe, rasped out, "A really bad time, apparently."
Mr. Dunce didn't react.
Julio, still recovering, managed a strained chuckle. "Man, you are really bad at picking up on jokes."
Mr. Dunce's metal fingers twitched. "Humor is irrelevant."
Jewels let out a choked laugh. "Oh my god. You're that guy. You're the 'humor has no tactical advantage' guy."
Julio nodded. "The kind of guy who watches a comedy and goes 'That was structurally inconsistent with reality.'"
Jewels gasped dramatically. "The kind of guy who gets invited to parties but only talks about system protocols."
Julio wiped fake tears from his eyes. "Truly, a tragic existence."
Mr. Dunce did not move.
Then, without warning, he released Jewels—only to slam a precise strike into the side of her head.
Her vision exploded into white static.
Julio barely had time to shout before Mr. Dunce whipped around and struck him next, sending him into unconsciousness just as fast.
The last thing Jewels registered before darkness took her was the faint sound of Mr. Dunce adjusting his cuffs.
"Humor is irrelevant," he repeated flatly.