It started with an itch.
The sort of itch at the tip of your nose right when you’ve got your hands occupied holding on to too many things you definitely should not drop. Except it wasn’t on my nose, it was in my bones, in my skull, my ribs, my knees, my everywhere. It was as if someone had gone and replaced the lining of my insides with velcro. I clenched my hands into balls and clutched at nothing as the itchiness was replaced by an ice-cold chill, then by fiery heat, then itchiness again. There wasn’t pain, not in the true sense of the word, but the discomfort was the sort I would not have wished even upon my enemies.
I rolled on the ground, mouth clamped shut, trying desperately not to do anything because I knew it would be a very bad idea to try to scratch my itchy bones. The minutes passed, and the pulsing sensations slowly diminished, each cycle weaker than the last, until the hot and cold flashes were nothing but shivers down my spine.
The itchy teeth were the last to go, and I still felt like I ought to chew a cactus just to get the feeling to go away for good.
Standing back up on wobbly legs, I looked at myself in the mirror and… frowned. The face was my own, sure enough, but I felt as if something had shifted a little. My shoulders were broader, my jaw squarer, my… ah. My bones had changed, more than just composition. Looking at myself more closely, I realized my body felt sturdier all over, my arms felt thicker, and I think I was slightly taller? Slightly more concerningly, however, my knuckles, elbows, and knees felt rougher to the touch, knobbier in shape.
[Trait Evolution]: Stone Bones
Unbreakable Bones: [D-Class] (Progress: [Locked]) Tied Stat:
Durability: 5 -- 32%
Progress locked? I mentally poked at it.
It is not possible to progress a trait into C-class without absorbing at least (1) equivalent trait belonging to a C-class monster core or above.
That looked about as good as it was going to get. It was weird stumbling on to this sort of limitation here and not on the lower classifications. But then again, maybe it was due to how I’d gained the traits to begin with? If I acquired one while transformed, I got a “free trial” lower class variant of that same trait, and thus far I’d not had the chance to push a trait beyond the class of the monster it originated from.
Stepping back into the bar, I found Cate and Isia there. The elder gave me a once over, brows furrowing as her eyes took an orange glow. “Well, you look a lot more stable than when you came in.”
“Thanks, I feel more stable.” I nodded back. “About Shadow-”
“You’ve got something interesting going on, but I’m not going to be stepping in further.” She waved me off. “That girl’s contract expires tomorrow at midnight. And with all the shit you’ve stirred. I can think of a few elders that would step in if there’s ever a meguca-hit on your head.”
That was less than ideal, but at the same time, I’d gained way more than I could’ve imagined coming in. “I understand.” I gave her a slight nod. “And… if it’s not too much to ask, would you maybe have some insights on my situation? You said it was ‘interesting’.”
“The mending can fill out cracks, but there are missing pieces.” She gave me a serious look. “Don’t push it.”
“Yes ma’am.” I had the gut feeling she’d avoided answering the question, but pushing for more felt meaningless without whatever context she was going off of. “I… think that’s it. Isia?”
“Finally! Took you long enough. Internet’s down, been having to read through the backlog.” She jumped out of her seat. “Thanks for the cake.”
“Don’t thank me, Kali’s the one paying for it. You are her guests here.” Cate answered nonchalantly.
Without missing a beat, Isia turned my way. “Oh right, thank your girlfriend for me next time you see her.”
I choked.
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“You know, it’s rude to stay hidden like that.”
Shadow frowned as she unmerged from the darkness, materializing into the barstool and giving Elder Hecate a long look. “It is unprofessional to meet a target or client in a non-professional environment.”
“Suuure.” The word was thick with sarcasm, the Elder pulling out a smoothie glass. “Did the old iron bitch have anything to say about your mission?”
The assassin lowered her gaze, unanswering.
Elder Fulton had been very explicit in her command: for Shadow to fulfill her mission and bring an end to Doctor Elvyra Moreau, then the doctor’s prized creation must be killed. The threat was already pushing Moreau into making moves in the underworld of New Francisco. They could only hope the Doctor would slip up and expose her location through this, and the only way to do so was to increase the pressure upon her target.
Axel Garcia’s death was necessary for Shadow to fulfill her mission.
“Ah, I see.” Elder Hecate crossed her arms, seeming to understand the silence without further explanation. She was good at reading people that way. “Best of luck, then.”
Shadow took a moment, frowning. “I don’t need luck.”
“I’d say you do, especially seeing how he got me back this little trinket.” Elder Hecate brought up a fork, one devoid of three prongs, old, worn, and weary.
The assassin lunged, reaching out for the utensil, body and flesh merging into the darkness as she passed through the layers of protection surrounding the Elder. Yet before she could touch the silver metal, her whole body froze in place, abruptly materializing back into existence, stumbling over the bar and, finally, collapsing onto the floor.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Ooh, so close.” The Elder mocked, watching the paralyzed Shadow as the meguca tried to squirm, but her body and powers refused to respond. “Maybe next time.”
Despondent and fully aware she could not break free from her paralyzed state, Shadow tried to summon her powers, but they faltered, sputtered, and flopped. She felt like a popped balloon, devoid of any air to sustain herself.
“You know, I was told you’d promised to be off the boy’s back for two whole days… by the looks of it, you never really left, did you? And here I thought thorny bitch didn’t trust using neuralinks, something changed recently?” Elder Hecate looked down at Shadow with a mix of amusement and disappointment. “I don’t care much about little lies. But you came in here, neutral territory, all layered up for battle? Shame on you, Shadow, I thought I taught you better than to let that thorny bitch to push you around. I think it merits a little punishment.” She gave the paralyzed meguca a little kick. “I’ll be taking a brief vacation, the bar’s going to be closed for… say, a week.”
NO!
Were she capable of it, Shadow would’ve widened her eyes and shouted out that the Elder could definitely not do this. Immediately she tried to activate her neuralink, but the internet connection was down, she got a notification that CYPHER was currently taking priority bandwidth. The only space where she had any control were her thoughts, and this she knew was merely by the Elder’s grace.
Were the older meguca to wish it, Shadow would blink and find all the time had passed without even noticing it.
“But I can’t leave you tied up for the whole week, unfortunately. I’d get called names for ‘interfering with a mission’.” The older woman rolled her eyes. “So let’s call it even. In twenty-four hours, your shackles will loosen up. That should be plenty of time for New Francisco’s infamous meguca-assassin to find that boy and finish the job on time, right?”
Chuckling loudly, Hecate walked off.
All Shadow could do was futilely struggle, watching the lights go out and the doors lock shut, aware that none would dare break in to free her of her magical bondage.
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Quinn squirmed on their chair as they waited, counting down the seconds. They knew there wouldn’t be anything that could realistically go wrong with their part of the plan, but it was impossible not to take the silence to mean something indeed had. They sought distractions through checking and rechecking the other communication channels, trying to ignore the way the other passengers looked at them.
The vehicle rattled, and Quinn stiffened, thin body going tense as they hastily looked around.
“No need to be so jumpy, little freak.” The driver laughed derisively. “Just a little bump on the road. Or will your borg-ass break if we have too many of those?”
Anger simmered within, it wasn’t lost on Quinn how the driver had chosen not to use any of the digital comms channels. “Is that a way to treat your client?”
The driver snorted. “The Doctor’s paying, not you.”
“The Doctor also put me in charge of a crucial part of the operation.” Quinn snapped back.
“Crucial, yeah.” The sarcasm was thick.
Quinn bristled, but did not deign the mockery with a retort, turning their attention to the CECILIA drone. The system read all green, with the special bio-lens the Doctor had procured for them reading green. Quinn didn’t like having to rush through incorporating a bio-reactor into the drone system, it was a massive draw on the battery life. All of it just so it could keep the organic component from rotting away. But the target they were meant to use it on could potentially hijack devices that used purely electronics.
A notification came through, indicating the cargo had been successfully delivered. Their eyes immediately turned to the un-updated chat with Isia. The gonk hadn’t sent anything, even though they should’ve received the package thirty seconds ago!
Thirty seconds turned into a minute.
Then two.
Would sending a message now be still too desperate? Quinn waited.
And waited.
Five minutes. That had to be the limit, right?
Alerts jumped through their systems, warning the anxiety had shot their vitals into a spiral. The neuralink sent a small shock through their nervous system, and Quinn’s thoughts blanked for half a second. Hormonal cocktails pumped into their bloodstream, stabilizing vitals and urging their physiology back to a more neutral state.
Only after a good three minutes did they realized Isia had sent the notification that the package had been received. Immediately opening up the corresponding channels, they verified that the locator function within Axel’s new tablet worked perfectly.
With a sigh of relief, they slumped into the safety harness of the all-terrain vehicle’s seat.
“We’re just about entering the rubber wall, your royal bot-ness.” The driver chimed with that same undertone of disgust that was barely hidden behind the laughter. “Comm-channels with the gang will open up in a bit. Got your toy ready?”
“Everything on my end is ready.” Quinn snapped back. “What matters is confirmation you found viable targets.”
“Talk to the boss when the channels open. I’m just transporting the scraps.”
It also made any further interaction with the driver a waste of time.
With everything moving along as planned, Quinn turned their attention to the vid-feeds from the vehicle’s exterior. The occasion should be one of mild celebration, the very first time they’d ever gone to the infamous “rubber wall”.
The scenery that met them was a desolate, flat and scorched terrain stretching as far as the eye could see. Craters littered every inch, with recovery-crews sweeping through the area. Massive trucks hauled every bit of metal, scrap, and technology that could be found from the day’s fighting. They would haul it back to the city to be reused and remade into more munitions. Every few minutes a convoy would push through, a singular massively reinforced truck escorted by dozens of other vehicles. Quinn didn’t know the exact contents of each, but they knew those trucks were often used for retrieving monster components from high-class targets, or fully live monsters for whatever it was the corporations did with them.
As they moved further ahead, they passed the mobile artillery and anti-air vehicles, pilons entrenched into the ground. None of them fired, laying perfectly still and waiting for orders to unleash their payloads upon a worthy target.
Then they passed the mobile infirmary and transport, buses with massive wheels, each meant to haul hundreds of personnel back and forth depending on where the edges of the rubber wall were meant to be. Like a tide, the rubber wall would expand as the day progressed, and contract as night fell, only to start over again. And again. And again.
Because the monsters never stopped coming.
Things were bound to shift with the A-class being on the move again. CYPHER’s maximal-alert hadn’t disseminated through the broader population, but just about every meguca and gang in New Francisco had gotten the alert. Depending on how things went, they might need to reroute resources elsewhere, meaning the rubber wall would likely need to contract eventually.
Quinn’s vehicle did not slow as they passed these forward camps, all of them sporting the Rat’s gang logos on every side.
The sound of active combat began to seep through the sound dampening. The gunfire sounded closer to the buzzing of a blender, intermittently interrupted by the rare mortar or artillery strike. The flashes of firearms illuminated the dust-clouds as small, fast vehicles raced along the desolate terrain, leading pursuing monsters into kill-zones.
That was where most megucas operated, unleashing salvos of multicolored explosions, ray beams, tornadoes, and any other number of supernatural attacks that were as flashy as they were deadly. They would be organized and distributed based on the most efficient use their powers would have upon the corresponding monsters, rotating with one another as they expanded their respective resource pools.
“Welcome to the rubber wall.” A voice pipped up through the internal speakers of the vehicle. “Doc said you’ll be helping us herd some critters.”
“Yes.” Quinn replied, answering the unspoken question from the voice they had to assume was the gang leader. “There is a meguca she wishes to test, and for the purposes of the test, we require a very specific kind of monster. There are reports of mirror-types in the sector.”
“Nasty fuckers, we’ve been keeping them distracted, no one’s willing to take them off our hands.” The voice replied. “Too much of a hassle.”
“Then all the better.” Quinn acknowledged.
They did not know why, exactly, did the Doctor want these monsters, or why was she willing to spend so much in commissioning the Rats to mobilize them.
Looking over beyond the cratered landscape, it was going to be a long night.