"Jackal Hunter Lori Kruger's Mental Health Difficulties Affecting Her Performance"

"Will the rising star 'Cynthia' dethrone the original Jackal Hunter?"

"Fans troubled as Jackal Hunter struggles to perform at expectations"

I stare out the window from my bedroom. Being at the top of a hill, it'd be one hell of a view to sell on the real estate market, but none of this really means anything anymore. Nothing's changed. And we all need to see something move otherwise we won't know we're alive.

Having someone to wake up next to probably won't really change anything for me. I'm growing numb to even my own ridiculous ambitions.

Becoming a Chosen might be the best path for me, even if I don't like the idea. At least someone who can keep me in control for my sake can be there.

Or maybe they'll all just be scared to death to see the former Jackal Hunter terrorize the Compound and I'll be untouchable.

That is, if they'll even honor a new contract for me.

Ambitions are just silly games we play with reality to entertain ourselves until death.

But death is not any more interesting or remarkable than a shitty life.

A plea for death is weakness. I'd rather die than live forever weak. Yet, I have no qualms about showing weakness to Adel and I'll definitely be vulnerable to a man if I find one for myself.

Everyone's full of shit-- including me.

I only come out of my room because sitting in there would only make me even more miserable.

"You know what, hook me up to the shrink bot," I mutter to Adel, in the living room.

She looks up from her soldering project. "Okay."

We walk to the lab building next door. The room's walls are denser than lead, and absolutely no noise penetrates the space. It's equally terrifying as it is soothing.

I recline in the test seat and Adel hooks up my MIRCS. After I close my eyes for 30 or so seconds, it prompts some AR messages surrounded by a bunch of graphs and numbers completely beyond me:

dopamine transmission low

cortisol and epinephrines tolerance high

moderate depressive and chronic stress signals

sympathetic nervous fatigue

parasympathetic activity low

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

medication, sleep, and/or behavioral adjustment suggested

retest in 24, 48, and 72 hours suggested

further consultation and analysis suggested

"No, drugs won't solve my problem."

"If it just gets you through to the next day-"

"What am I working towards the next day? Another Jackal fight?"

Adel goes silent.

"Is this all my fucking life is gonna amount to? Until I age or the UWWA just botches me up until I become Elin? Am I even alive at that point?"

Adel looks at the floor, unsure what to say.

"Well, you're still thinking about... going AWOL and finding a man?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"That's my headache. But we all want something we can't have. Except that you see where I'm going if I don't get what I want."

"You might just find something else in a few years to be more excited about. Better yet, if you just work until you're 40 or so, say no to the cyborg shit, and then retire as a Chosen and spend your fortune on fertility optimization. I'm sure you could bribe them, and clearly you aren't unattractive to the men there."

"I don't know about that. And I'd really rather not let them touch my ovaries."

"Oh, come on. The Compound is nuts about you."

"They haven't really seen my body outside of the suit."

"They have a decent idea. It's rather form-fitting at the waist area, no? And they know what your face looks like on your Twigpost profile. You're hot, and that's a fact."

"I don't see myself that way. And wait until they meet me. You've seen me behind closed doors. I'm clearly not all I'm cracked up to be."

"So how do you think anyone makes it as a Chosen?"

I look at her, and shrug like a dumbass.

"You have to adjust yourself to your goal. For the, what, 10 years you've trained to be a Hunter, this is all learned behavior. Again, I know I'm just a technician, but do you think I managed to fix all your shit on the first day of my job when I was a teenager?"

"No."

"Duh. I had to fuck up a lot of things before I knew my way around it. And once I did, then they just dumped more work for me to figure out. So I just kept at it, and eventually learned. You clearly want to be more ladylike, and that's all learned skill too."

"Fighting and killing is almost all that I remember. It all came naturally. Alongside the endless string of trouble I got myself into before they pulled me out of school at 16."

"And to achieve what you want-- to be a dainty lady and attract a man-- you have to learn how to do that as well."

"Look, Ade, I really appreciate your efforts to console me. I've trusted them long enough with my body, I don't trust what they're going to do next as I age if I become a Chosen in my 40s. I don't trust their techno-wizardry to hold off menopause, or guarantee my egg quality in my 40s."

"But you don't have a clear plan B."

"I didn't have any plan when they took me in at 16."

"Right, they had a plan for you. And they're going to keep you hooked up so long as you follow your contracts."

"Maybe I don't want to follow contracts. I already have enough trouble following orders and keeping my mouth shut dealing with the dipshits on this job."

"Well, then you'll have to find your own forces. I don't have anything. I'm just your technician."

"And what will you do if I quit?"

She's silent again.

"Well..."

"That's right. You don't really have a plan either, don't you?"

She squints at me for a second, before sitting back in defeat. "Well, fuck me, I guess you're right."

"At this rate, they're bound to find someone with more enthusiasm for the job than I do. It's only a matter of time before they replace me." I look sternly at Adel. "If you don't want to come along, that's fine. I'll go alone."

"But you can't break into anything by yourself."

"I'll find people and I'll find the tools to do it."

"Like who?"

"Maybe I won't. If so, only then I'll seek my secondary options. Talking about contracts. Becoming a Chosen. Because plan C-- just doing this for the rest of my life-- is simply not sustainable. And I don't think you want to see how that will end. Look at me now. Is it really going to get better at this rate?"

Adel sighs and looks away, either tripping over her own thoughts, or in defeat. "Yeah, alright," she stands from her chair and leaves the room.