Sensha woke up, her ears ringing and her head throbbing in incessant pain. It was a labor to think, much less move in the cramped, damned space. Everything was screaming, searing hurt. The moments where she managed to breathe in enough to scream were terrible, because her scream came up bubbly and wet, tasting like iron.
When finally she managed to force her eyes open, she found herself in a lit structure, large machinery droning loudly enough to worsen her headache. The walls were made of a sleek black material, seemingly lined with holographic projectors that emitted soft, orange light. With that light she could see that she had landed on a large panel with several buttons, knobs and monitors, most of which had been smashed by her body in the fall. The blood mattering the top of the panel was enough to tell her she hadn't fallen lightly.
Looking around as best she could with her chest burning and her bones screaming at her to stay still, to die, she struggled to find more details. She could tell that the room itself was built underground. She'd likely come through the roof. She could see the rubble around her and scattered papers strewn with the soil on the floor. She could also see that her front, right leg had been blown off.
The sight alone would have had her hyperventilating if she could breathe properly to begin with. She had been shot plenty of times before, and it had caused her to panic, but now all she felt was despair. Whatever joke of a god that had control over her life has seen fit to let her wake up so she could watch herself bleed out and die.
Her vision blurred, eyes wet with tears. Even as it hurt to sob, she did so anyway. This was her end, stuck underground in some bullshit laboratory under Dunning little bits of her only friend scattered around her.
Thinking about that only made it worse. Phaz… poor, fucking Phaz hadn't made it. He'd died pissed at her, probably ready to tell her to fuck off for being inconsiderate and a terrible friend. She hadn't considered him, hadn't even thought about how her leaving might've made him feel. Now he was dead. She could see his arm across the room, other chunks of him here and there. She couldn't make this up to him. He couldn't go home, or smoke his shitty, over expensive cigarettes. The thought hurt her more than she thought losing a coworker ever could.
Her vision blurred further, misery claiming her thoughts as the despair only worsened. She hadn't made it either, had no chance of making it out of Dunning. No chance of a better life. Her leg was gone. Even if she didn't bleed out she'd never make it anywhere missing a leg.
There would be no journey in the wilds. No trip to the west to find herself. No chance of finding that special little redhead either… That thought broke her heart. No chance of seeing her again and having the life she had hoped they would. She'd never see her beautiful face, or her twinkling eyes, or hear her sweet voice.
"Dying sucks," she managed in a half sob. She was so tired. Everything was so heavy. She was so very cold the world was closing in… fading away…And yet she didn't die.
For what seemed like an eternity, she simply didn't die. For so long she hoped that the gods would stop fucking with her and get it over with and stop that damned beeping. Wait… beeping?
Looking over to the monitors, she looked for something, any indication of what the hell was happening to her. What she saw was seared into her mind as the walls around the panel began to shift, mechanical manipulators revealing themselves and moving forth from the dark beyond. "Project Re:Evolve, Feel evolution process commencing. Subject saturation, 23%.
–
Sensha snapped awake, looking around herself in a room that was much less technologically advanced than the one she'd just been remembering in her dreams. Checking her chest , then her abs for wounds, she finally sighed in relief when her hand brushed against the smooth, black, played steel of her thigh. Glancing around the room she found herself in a plain, small, holding apartment in Neo Denver, just on the outskirts of town.
Rather than a control panel, she rested on a cramped, tidy little couch from a large, concrete furnishing enclosure that was built so sturdily it had withstood the ignition, and the near century following it. Some things from the old world were built to last. The room itself had bare walls, a basic kitchen with a stove, refrigerator and a little counter space beside the half sink.
For an orc or elf, it would be small, but livable. For Sensha, it was hardly tolerable. She'd been in the space for less than a day while the PD checked her readings and the samples of information she had given them to measure the worth of her find. She knew they'd come back quick and give her exactly what she wanted soon enough, and that knowledge was the only thing keeping her from tearing the tiny holding apart.
Sighing she spread her arms, stretching her human torso, her ribs and spine popping as she yawned and wiggled away the remainder for her weariness. Her long black hair cascaded across her shoulders and back as she moved her upper body, tickling her lower back as the sports bra girding her ribs and chest groaned with the strain. She would regret sleeping in the damned thing later, she knew it.
Once she felt limber and a bit more awake in her upper body, with some effort, she stood, keeping her torso low to stretch her lower body. Bending forward, Sensha swung her head to the side to keep her hair out of the way and hugged her chest as she bent. She watched as her body moved on its two, new, mechanical legs, still fascinated by the limbs. In the attack where Sensha had been crippled by whomever had dropped her into that reactor room, she had lost her front right and rear left legs. Both had been replaced in the Re:Evolve process she'd just so vividly remembered in her sleep.
As she had been flooded with energy, which she now knew was mana, that power had reconstructed both limbs. Now, she stood on metal legs, each gliding and shifting silently as she moved through her stretches, steel hooves clacking against the floor. For a few long minutes, she stretched out, just taking in her own body and the fact that she was, indeed alive. Then she swung herself into a low stand so as not to dome herself on the ceiling and headed to the bathroom.
Even crouching how she was, her ears brushed the textured tiling the cheap manufacturer used to do the ceiling. The pain of being tall. It only got worse when she made her way to the threshold into the bathroom, where she had to bend her torso forward and wiggle herself lengthwise to get in. While bathrooms and tubs had been adjusted to meet the universal standard in most cities, and were now much larger, housing units were something of a wildcard. If they had been built before multipedal races were widespread, there was a likelihood they were like the room she'd just stepped in from.
Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
The contrast of the bathroom itself from the door inward was almost comical, though. The room was spacious, likely larger than the living area, with a proper tub and relief stall, along with a wide countertop sink and a large mirror. It was even slightly taller, much to Sensha's relief. She'd never admit it to the detective guy they sent to talk with her, but she'd actually spent more time in there than the rest of the place just for the sake of comfort.
Looking into the mirror, she took another good look at herself. With her hair off to one side she could clearly see her thin, long brows, and her own fierce, slanted eyes which, once a comforting chocolate brown, now glowed a neon pink. She had angular features, high cheeks and light, thin lips that pressed into a neat cupid's bow. Not quite what she'd call the pinnacle of feminine beauty. Her face had a long white scar, from her chin up to just below her right eye. It gave her a rugged, dangerous quality in her opinion, but she hated that it marred her visage.
Sighing and looking down herself she took her long, slender fingers and rubbed at the back of her neck as she continued her observation. The muscles in her shoulder flexed with the motion, her scarred arm shifting with the motion. Past her breasts, a pride point for her, heavy as the girls were, she saw her waist, tight trim. The flare of white scar tissue where she'd been shot during her mission to kill Valonov was still sensitive. Her abs flexed as she took another deep breath and then ran her hands down her front, over the broad chest muscles of her lower body, careful to miss her sex as she passed.
The wall of musculature that controlled, protected and cradled her second heart, secondary nervous center and various other vitals was dense. Her fingers, strong as they were, weren't able to work into the muscles without extreme difficulties. When she found time to get massages and actually help relax the area, she found that the complex network of muscles still never really stayed relaxed for long. There was always a tension there. A stress.
"At least the ladies like strength. I've got that…" she said, turning to look lower. Her soft brown fur and her trim barrel were something she personally found beautiful about herself. But she had an inkling that the multiple legs and her… extra backing… were likely a reason she had very poor luck with women.
"Do you like strong women, little sister?" She asked, done with her reflection, her gaze instead settling onto the counter next to the sink. Lying there, just far enough to remain clear of any splashing water, she'd left an old, printed photo. The picture was at least 10 years old and was worn at the edges from how long it had been held. It was a simple photo, taken from the angle of a parent looking down at two children who were hugged together, beaming up at the camera.
On the left was a much younger version of herself. An 11 year old Sensha smiled back up at her with pearly white teeth. Her hair had been much shorter back then, cut to short pigtails. Even at 11 she'd been around 6 feet tall, but her mother, who had taken the picture, had towered over them both. Sensha’d been a little, willowy thing, and to this day comparing the twiggy mate to the woman she was now legitimately brought a smile to her face. But she wasn't looking at the picture to remember herself. She wasn't looking for herself in it. She was looking for her dearest childhood friend.
She found her easily, wrapped tight in the arms of her younger self. The smaller girl was maybe 8 at the time the photo had been taken. She was slender, pretty even then, with vermillion locks like the tail feathers of a phoenix. In the photo her big baby-blue eyes twinkled with simple, innocent joy. She'd had a little pin in her hair to keep the messy tresses away from her face which gave Sensha a clear view of the little dark discolored spots on her face next to her eyes and right beneath the corner of her pink lips.
In the photo, Sensha was holding the girl up in a tight hug, while the girl threw up a victory sign with her adorable little hand. The pair of them had just won a kite race together, celebrating victory with a photo that Sensha couldn't possibly know she'd cling to for over a decade.
Before Sensha could reminisce further, she heard a knock at the door, her ears flicking to the side. Putting the photo down, she ducked under the threshold and made her way to the door, opening it after a momentary check.
Outside of the door, hands in his pockets and a tired lackadaisical expression on his muzzle was Detective Daren J Mulner. The lycan was a peculiar man. He seemed calm and unflapped by most anything that happened during the day. He seemed a man of very few pleasures and pastimes.
"Sensha… Good to see you again. May I come in?" He asked, his tone was polite, even, possibly bored. When she stepped aside to allow him in, and closed the door behind him, his demeanor didn't shift in the least.
He turned to face her and gestured for her to have a seat once he felt she had enough space, sitting across the living space from her in a smaller chair. "We checked the info you gave us," he began, watching Sensha pull herself into the couch, his gaze steady.
She simply looked at him, waiting for him to continue.
"Everything you gave us that could be verified came back as true. What couldn't is also highly probable," he continued after a moment. "That being, said, the information you gave us is completely invaluable to the department and to Neo Denver, and your requests, while… peculiar, are not unreasonable."
Sensha perked up noticeably, the couch groaning beneath her as she shifted on it nearly ready to burst out of the little thing with joy. She could feel in her bones that he was going to grant her wishes. He was going to give her the quiet, beautiful life she was longing for, with the little woman she'd been longing for. The words were on his lips. They just had to be.
"From this moment, until such time as you can be declared safe and no longer an information asset to Neo Denver, you are under the protection of the city and it's Governance. You are to be granted an annual stipend of no less than 50,000 credits with room for bonus payment depending on the value of acquisitions made as a result of your actions or volunteered intelligence."
She listened with rapt attention, not for all of the silly shit he'd already said, but for the real kicker. The thing she'd asked for over all of that. When she saw him settle back into his seat as though he was done talking, her heart sank. Did they just give her everything else she'd ask for in consolation? Had Mocha refused? "And… the last?" She asked, her hope fading fast.
Please…
"Oh, yeah. We got your liaison. Mocha Te Bottsu has agreed to be your personal guard and companion at least for the time that we have you under protection from the people you named in Dunning. After that, another contract will need to be negotiated," he said, noticing the groaning of the couch under Sensha a little too late.
The furniture piece fell apart with the shriek of nails being torn from wood as Sensha surged to her hooves, shouting in her excitement, only to promptly dome herself on the ceiling and crouch in sudden agony. "YEA- OW FUCK!"
As the detective watched her, bemused by her reaction he shook his head, making a mental note to tell the department to cover the property damage when they settled things and left.
—
???: Called it!