A red flash of pain shot through my skull, and for a second, the world glitched out of sync. It was sudden and brief, like a camera flash in a dark room. The edges of my vision rippled, and a dull throb settled behind my eyes. System warnings were par for the course lately, but the data was always gone before I could read it, with no log left behind, like it hadn't even happened. I might not have believed it, if not for the immediate disorientation. I shook my head to clear the mental fog, but the headache stayed, a lingering reminder of things starting to break down.
System Integrity: 42%
That was one hell of a nosedive. I guess dying doesn't go well with my augmentations.
The deafening roar of the engine broke through the stillness as Cali arrived in a pickup truck. Its body shimmered with a vivid turquoise. The headlights cut through the darkness like knives, revealing a chaotic tableau of destruction. Shards of glass glinted in the harsh beams, scattered debris littered the ground, and the twisted remnants of a recent struggle were illuminated in stark detail.
My legs gave out beneath me, and I stumbled towards a nearby post, my hands grasping at the rough, weathered wood for support. The gravel beneath my feet crunched loudly as Cali came running over, her boots kicking up small clouds of dust in her wake. Her eyes were wide with alarm and worry, her blonde hair tousled and wild. A metallic tang filled the air, mixing with the sharp smell of burnt rubber and sending shivers down my already trembling spine. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, dulling the pain but heightening my senses as I weakly returned Cali’s concerned gaze. My vision blurred, and I struggled to stay upright against the post, a puppet with frayed strings.
“Jack!” Cali exclaimed, her voice laced with concern as she rushed to my side.
I tried not to bleed on her overalls. Her smooth features were etched with worry as she slipped an arm around my waist, supporting me as I struggled to climb into the passenger seat. I settled into the worn leather seat as Cali slid behind the wheel. The powerful engine roared to life. The scent of Nightstone filled my nostrils as we drove off into the night.
I glanced down at my Enhanced left arm and shoulder, the dull ache giving way to something sharper as a bright flash erupted from the wiring beneath my synth-skin. The blackstone cables pulsed erratically, Infernum energy crackling out in violent bursts like a bad circuit on the verge of overload. The faint glow lit the dark alley in rhythmic pulses, throwing jagged shadows against the damp walls.
I clutched the arm instinctively, trying to keep the energy contained, but it was no use. The blackstone wasn’t meant to handle this level of strain, not for this long. Sparks hissed and spat, tiny fractures crawling along the plating like cracks in ice.
I gritted my teeth against the pain as the glowing veins of Infernum energy flared again.
“Just ran into a bit of trouble,” I muttered through gritted teeth, unable to hide the grimace of pain that crossed my face with every movement. My voice was harsh and strained, and I clutched my neck reflexively. “Thanks for coming.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Cali’s voice, touched with a gentle Southern twang, wrapped around me like a warm embrace, making the world feel just a little less cold. “For devil’s sake, Jack.” Her eyes were filled with kindness and concern. “Let’s get you sorted out and figure out just what kind of mess you’ve gotten yourself into this time.” Her gaze wandered over my battered form, tracing the angry red cuts and dark bruises that marred my skin.
Cali’s worried eyes flickered between the road and my face. “Jack, you look like hell. What happened to you?”
As the truck sped through the night, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the side mirror. She wasn’t wrong.
I hesitated, trying to find the words. “It’s... complicated.”
Her brow furrowed. “Complicated? Like how? You owe someone money complicated? Or you picked a fight with a werewolf again complicated?”
I forced a weak smile. “No, more like I had a run-in with Death. Literally.”
She scoffed. “Death, huh? Well, that’s new.” She paused, glancing at me. “He stop by for tea and cookies?”
“Not exactly,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
The truck drove on, its engine a steady, comforting growl, filling the silence that followed. We passed the exit to my place. “Where are you taking me?”
“The hospital, where else?”
“No, Cali. We can’t. We need to keep this under wraps.”
She looked at me like I had just suggested she eat a dead slug off the sidewalk.
“Oh sure, because patching you up in my garage is the smart play. I think I’ve got a new carburetor that should do the trick. Jack, you’re half-dead!”
“Cali, I’m undead.”
She snorted with the kind of refined elegance that only comes from years of perfecting the art of not giving a damn.
“You’re telling me you’re a zombie now?” She glanced me over, more intently this time, stealing quick looks while keeping her eyes on the road.
“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep it casual. “Undead, reanimated, Death’s errand boy. Take your pick.”
She smiled, brushing it off with a shrug, like it was just a bad joke. Which, in a cosmic way, it was. But then, as the warm glow of streetlights swept across my face, I saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes—a subtle shift I couldn’t miss. I didn’t envy the rollercoaster she was on tonight—first the shock of hearing my voice crackle over the pay phone, desperate, then helping me shamble up, and now this. I caught the moment it hit her that I wasn’t joking. But still, she couldn’t fully accept it. I had to rip off the band-aid.
“Look.” I turned on the light in the cab so she could see me clearly. A bloody gash was open across my throat, and three lines were bleeding from my side where the demon clawed. My face was puffy from the waterlog. Anyone else in my state would be dead. Well, I guess I was no exception.
I cursed as she nearly sent us careening off the road. The tires screeched, the truck fishtailing before jerking to a stop. She threw me a sideways glare, caught between exasperation and disbelief.
“Satan on skis, Jack! What the hell is going on? Fighting demons is one thing, but this? What kind of mess have you dragged yourself into this time?”