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The flash of light was followed by a cacophonous bang and Jace was blown backward by the shockwave. He screamed out in pain as he hit the wall. Putting his hands out instinctively, he crashed down onto his stump and almost blacked out.

“Crap!” Oliver flew around him, “You are hurt bad. Bleeding heavily.”

Jace groaned in pain and felt the warm liquid pooling under himself. Looking up, he saw a small, glowing turret that was trained on him but did not fire again. It…must just…protect the room.

Oliver flew in front of his face and filled his vision. “You’re not dying on me!” he shouted with determination. “Get your ass in that chair. Right now!”

A surge of adrenaline shot through his body. The words of his sister echoed in his head. A moment later his own thoughts raced through his mind. I’m not going to die here! He pushed himself to his knees and his one hand. Blood kept pouring out from his torso - a consistent cascade of red goop.

“Come on!” Oliver urged. Jace followed the spectral otter until he was gripping the legs of the chair. “Pull yourself up!”

“I…” Jace grit his teeth and tried to pull himself up. Slowly, agonizingly, he was able to wriggle his body into the seat. He was so, so tired and absolutely covered in his own vital fluid.

“Tap the rune on the armrest! It has raised edges!”

Jace weakly fumbled around, finding a small, raised symbol. He pressed his finger against it. The straps on the chair slid out from behind him and tied him in place. He felt the slight prick of needles entering him all over…and darkness took him.

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“Chroma! Get back here!” Jace shouted as he chased after his little sister.

“You’re it !” she shouted back as she ran across the park, giggling and laughing.

Jace caught up to her and scooped her up as she continued to giggle, “We’ve got a little bit longer. Enough for a few minutes on the swing.”

“Okay!” Chroma shouted as she wriggled free of his grip and sprinted toward the slides.

Jace followed her, feeling quite content seeing her happy. Buying access to the park cost him quite a bit, but for her? No price was too steep. He reached into his pocket and cupped the small cake in a little box he was saving to cap off the day.

This was their tradition. Every year, for her birthday, she wanted the same thing. A small cake and time at the park with her big brother. And he pushed himself hard to make sure he could provide that for her. Their life was far from perfect, but he was making sure she had an enjoyable childhood - something he did not have. It was why he went back and snuck her out of the orphanage.

She got onto the swing and began moving back and forth, ascending higher and higher. Jace stood near her, just smiling as she started to twist in the air, coiling up the chains as they would then unravel in the opposite direction.

The sound of heavy, metal feet crunching on the soft, plastic padding caught his attention, and Jace turned to find one of the park attendants standing nearby. He gestured to Jace, and mouthed the words, ‘time’s up.’ Jace nodded and reached out for the chain, slowing Chroma’s swinging until she came to a stop.

“Aww. Are we out of time?”

Jace nodded, “Yeah. Sorry. I just had enough for the hour.”

She hopped off the swing and walked past the attendant, muttering a short, “Thank you” as she did so.

“You’re welcome, little lady,” the man replied as he looked back to Jace. Jace just gave the man a terse nod before he caught up with Chroma and grabbed her hand.

“Don’t you think you’re a bit old for the park?” Jace asked as he walked her out and back into their life. The streets. Their home.

“Mmm…nope!” she said with a small laugh. “I like it.”

Jace pulled the small, plastic container from his pocket. “Happy birthday, Chroma. I love you.”

She hugged his leg, “I love you too.” She grabbed the cake from him and opened the container, holding it up to him. “Do you want a little?”

“It’s all yours,” Jace replied with a smile. She practically squeaked with delight as she dove in. “I’m also working on a new project. One that’ll get us a little apartment.”

She looked up, her eyes wide. “What type of project?”

“Just something some of the other street folk are putting together.” Jace knelt to her level and put a hand on her shoulder, “Don’t worry though, it won’t make me leave you. Stick together to survive.”

She nodded, “Stick together to survive.”

Jace heard the squealing of tires and stood up. There was a chase going on up the street. Some type of gang related turf war, fought out in vehicles. Not an unusual sight, but it pushed Jace into survival-mode immediately. “We have to move.” He picked up Chroma and began to run towards an alleyway that would provide shelter from the conflict.

A loud bang was followed by a scrit of metal skittering across asphalt. Jace barely turned around in time to see the flat sheet that protected the underside of the vehicle propelled towards him. It sliced through his legs right below the knees, and he let out a scream of pain as he fell over.

Chroma rolled out of his grip as he fell forward. Right into the street. Into the path of one of the out-of-control cars. They must have seen her, because they tried to swerve, but they side-swiped her and she went flying off the road, crashing into a building as brick chunks scattered around her.

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“Chroma!” Jace shouted as he crawled over to her. She was barely breathing, and he was able to turn her sideways just enough to see her face. She was crying, her tears streaking down her face as she whimpered.

“I don’t want to die,” she barely managed to get out of her crushed face.

“Stay with me,” Jace replied as he began to succumb to the blood loss.

“...survive…” her eyes went dull, and her body went slack.

Jace passed out mid-scream.

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“Gah!” Jace woke up, breathing heavily as the vivid memories of his sister’s death played through his head. He was still strapped to the chair, and he felt dizzy. Nauseous. He leaned over to his right side and wretched.

“You’re alive!” Oliver said with relief, floating just in front of Jace’s face. “How do you feel?”

“Like hammered shit,” Jace replied. His head was pounding, and he could acutely feel every tingle of agony assaulting his skull.

“Touch the symbol just in front of the other one to get out.”

Jace did as he was instructed and sighed with relief as the pressure left him. He looked down at his forearm - the metal on his arm had vanished. A smooth, healed-up stump replaced it. He felt the minor, tell-tale itch of healing flesh - but running his good hand over it, he could tell it was fully restored with minimal scarring. Perfect for a prosthetic attachment.

Looking down at his legs, he felt a jolt of shock. Both of his legs from the shin-down were healed-over, pristine stumps. His full prosthetic and the chewed-in-half one were both on the floor. “What was that stuff?” he asked as he looked at the empty tanks.

“The magitech version of a super soldier serum. You are…much bulkier than before. Thank The Architects that it also healed you! That was a total shot in the dark. The arcane symbols had something to do with ‘mending’ and ‘restoration,’ so the gamble paid off!”

Jace could feel the thicker muscle in his arms, and he used his good hand to feel along his upper arm. “Damn, you’re right. I can’t even fit my fingers around my bicep anymore.” Checking his stomach, he could feel the clear definition of abdominal muscles. He slowly put his foot-stumps on the ground and began to put weight very gingerly on them. I can at least get around. Not fast. But…it’s something.

The cool, metal floor was a welcome sensation to the itchy stumps. Oliver floated around him, bobbing just between his legs before spiraling up around his torso and alighting just above his right shoulder. “Looks good. No permanent injuries.”

“Really? No permanent injuries?” Jace used his good hand to gesture to himself.

Oliver grimaced, “Okay, well…We can fix that. You have prosthetics back on Earth.”

“Over a hundred days walking. Oh, wait. It’s going to take way longer now that I don’t even have feet!” Jace felt his stomach rumble, and he looked around for his messenger bag. It was on the ground next to a large pool of blood. “I was close to death, wasn’t I?” he asked as a pit formed in his stomach.

“Yup.”

Jace shook his head, “Too many close calls,” he muttered as he got up, opened the bag, and took several long sips from the cool water within. Sealing it back up, he peeked around the corner at the room that had exploded in his face.

A small turret with a set of four barrels was attached to the ceiling of the room. It was a square-shaped contraption and had the same metal wire housing around it. A metal wire also ran along the ceiling to the generator room. A magic- magitech? Turret. Great.

Jace went back to the laboratory table, grabbed a small book, and threw it into the threshold of the room. The turret immediately locked onto it and fired off a burst, shredding it with flechette rounds - tiny, razor-sharp metal chunks. Brutal , Jace thought. How to disable it… “Oliver, can you check in there and see if there’s anything worthwhile in it?”

“On it!” Oliver flew through the door and returned a moment later, “I doubt the two we found dried out were able to get past the turret. There are supplies there! A crate of what looks like food, and gear kits in satchels.”

“I have to deal with this turret,” Jace muttered. “We know the doorway has something to do with the trigger.” He scanned the edges of the door frame, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of something he could cut into and disable. The cord running along the ceiling was the first thing that popped into his mind, but upon closer examination, he saw it was fused into the ceiling - he could not cut it even if he wanted to.

“What about the spell arc reactor?” Oliver asked. “Just shut off power to the facility.”

“Definitely viable,” Jace replied. But I’m not getting locked in here. Let’s do a quick walk-through. He went back through the facility, and traced the small, metal cords along the ceiling to each of the different items that this magical energy fed into. Looks like it’s just the lights, the turret, the chair, the decontamination shower, and the bathroom. “These arc reactors, can they be started up again?”

“It takes a big surge of magical energy. Once we turn it off, it will be useless.”

I need food more than luxuries, Jace thought. But first. He went to the living quarters and found every single container, pot, pan, lid - anything that could hold water - and filled it from the decontamination shower spigot. Soon enough, he had several dozen gallons of water in various objects. After refreshing himself in the restroom, he went back to the arc reactor door and opened it.

The sparking, crackling blue lightning inside the enormous machine was enthralling. It danced and cascaded all around the inner chamber. “Right, how to turn this off…” He walked around the circular pylon until Oliver pointed out an arcane symbol. Jace used his knife to scrape away at the substance, peeling away and disrupting the symbol.

The power sputtered out and the only light source was Oliver, hovering in space. “Looks like that did it,” he stated.

Jace walked to the now unprotected doorway, tossed a scrap of metal into the aperture, and grinned as there was no movement from the turret. He went in himself and found the box Oliver had scouted out. It was easy to carry with handles on both sides, and he moved it out to the living quarters. If I am going to be here for a few days, I don’t want to have roommates, he thought as he looked at the two corpses.

He lifted them - with surprising ease, given their mass - and set them in the turret-protected, now empty room. It was a slow process as he was tottering around on stumps and fell a few times. But the serum must have made him more resistant to pain, as even the discomfort he expected from walking on stumps was negligible.

Oliver floated behind and above his shoulder, “You are stronger now. That chair did something good.”

“I’m happy it didn’t have any negative side effects.”

“So far,” Oliver quipped.

Jace looked up at him with an annoyed glare, “Yes. So far. Thanks for reminding me that I am filled up with experimental goop.” He turned his attention to the supply chest and unlatched the handles.