Ray lay dying, bleeding out in a dark, forgotten alley. His vision blurred, and his breath came in ragged gasps. He felt his strength slipping away as he pressed a trembling hand against one of the bullet holes in his chest, feeling the warm, sticky blood that soaked through his fingers. His hand came away red.

"Fuck me," he muttered, staring at his blood-stained hand.

A faint sound echoed to his right. With agonizing slowness, he turned his head and saw something fall beside him—an injector. It looked strange, bigger than normal, black, with something swirling inside, but Ray’s vision was too clouded from blood loss to make out any details.

Summoning what little strength he had left, Ray reached for the injector. His hand trembled as he brought it to his mouth. The contents shot out, filling his mouth with a sharp, metallic taste. Almost instantly, a violent jolt surged through his body, making him convulse uncontrollably. It felt as if thousands of tiny needles were stabbing into every inch of his flesh. Then, everything went black.

When Ray opened his eyes again, he found himself lying in the same alley. It was night, and the rain poured down, forming a puddle beneath him. He blinked, disoriented, trying to make sense of what had happened.

"Am I dead?" he asked aloud, his voice echoing in the empty alley.

He pushed himself up slowly, expecting to feel the sharp, searing pain of his wounds. But there was nothing. No pain, no blood, no bullet holes. Even his shirt was intact, with no sign of the damage it had suffered.

Ray pinched his arm, hard.

"Ouch," he winced. "So I'm not dreaming."

The blood that should have pooled beneath him was gone, washed away by the rain. He tried to access his neural system, moving his optics to bring up his HUD, but nothing happened. Panic set in as he reached for the familiar port at the back of his neck, just below his right ear, but all he felt was smooth skin.

His hands began to frantically search the back of his head.

"Calm down, Ray," he whispered to himself, taking deep, steadying breaths. "There has to be an explanation."

After several minutes of trying to regain control, he sighed and started to walk.

The rain continued to pour as he made his way through the city . It was strange—though his clothes were soaked and cold, he felt no discomfort. His body seemed indifferent to the elements.

"Must be the effect of the injector or something," he muttered to himself, trying to make sense of it all.

By the time Ray reached his apartment, the first light of dawn was creeping through the narrow gaps between the towering buildings above. Despite the early houre the city was alive as always. He opened the door quietly and found his mother asleep on the couch. Leaning down, he kissed her on the forehead , then made his way to his room.

Once inside, he tried to undress, but something was wrong. His clothes seemed to be fused to his skin, peeling off only to a certain point before sticking like they were glued.

"Ahh, come on, get off already," he groaned, struggling in vain to remove his shirt. Frustrated, he sat down at his desk.

As he reached out to turn on his computer, his arm suddenly transformed, the skin morphing into a black tendril that wrapped around the device. Ray watched in horror as his computer was consumed entirely, disappearing into nothingness. In the next moment, a system interface booted up in his mind, displaying a jumble of letters he couldn’t recognize. They flashed by too quickly to comprehend, but then everything switched to English. He noticed two bars in the top left corner of his vision: a grey one, completely full, and a blue one that was nearly topped off.

"What the fuck just happened?" Ray whispered, staring at his now normal-looking arm and the empty spot where his computer used to be. He reached under his bed and pulled out an old laptop, relieved when it didn’t suffer the same fate.

With trembling fingers, he messaged the one person he could think of who might help him make sense of this nightmare.

"Hey, Julia?"

"Hey, Ray. How are you?"

"Fine... I guess. Are you at your clinic?"

"Yes, do you want a check-up?"

"Yeah, I’ll be there soon."

"Okay."

Ray dropped onto his bed, face first, hoping to get some rest, but sleep wouldn’t come. His mind raced, trying to process what had happened. Physically, he didn’t feel tired at all, but emotionally, he was shaken to his core. After a few minutes of lying there with his eyes closed, he slowly sat up, determined to find answers.

He walked to the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face, and took a long, hard look in the mirror.

His pale skin looked the same, his brown eyes appeared normal, and his dark hair, though slightly disheveled, was just as it had always been. Even his short beard remained unchanged. On the surface, everything looked ordinary—but Ray knew that nothing was normal anymore.

Sneaking past his still-sleeping mother, Ray made his way to Julia’s clinic. He entered the familiar, sterile room, with its large chair surrounded by an array of tools and monitors—the ripper chair.

"Hey, Julia," he said, trying to sound casual. "How are you?"

Julia, an old family friend who had known Ray since he was a child, looked at him with concern. She was a striking woman, with short platinum hair and sharp features that defied time, never looking a day older than 30.

"I'm fine, but you look a little shaken. What’s going on?"

Ray took a deep breath, his voice trembling as he spoke. "I got shot while trying to deliver a package."

Julia frowned, her brow furrowing. "You don’t look like you’ve been shot."

"I was. I lost a lot of blood, Julia. I was dying." He met her eyes, the fear and confusion evident in his gaze. "Then, somehow, an injector dropped next to me. I barely had any strength left, but I used it. I felt this jolt, a lot of pain, and then I blacked out. When I woke up, I was completely healed. But that’s not all. When I tried to boot my system, it didn’t work." He turned around and pointed to the back of his head. "And my neuro port is gone."

Julia stood up and examined the back of his head, her frown deepening.

"Strange. It’s like it was never there."

"And there’s more. I can’t get my clothes off. They’re somehow fused to my skin."

"Go sit in the chair," Julia instructed, her voice calm but serious. "I’ll run some tests."

Reluctantly, Ray complied, easing himself into the chair. Julia began scanning his body, her frown deepening with each passing second. She tried to draw blood, but the needle couldn’t pierce his skin—it was as if she was trying to puncture steel. She poked and prodded, pinched his skin, but everything appeared normal on the surface.

Next, she placed a small disk device over his heart and stared at the display, her confusion growing. She tried to take his pulse, but there was nothing.

Finally, she showed Ray her computer screen. His entire body appeared white on the scan.

"What am I looking at?" Ray asked, his voice edged with panic.

"I’m not sure," Julia replied, shaking her head. "But clearly, something strange has happened to your body. A scan like this either means your body is blocking the rays or you're filled with something... I don’t know."

Ray’s mind raced. "What happened to me, Julia?"

"I don’t know," she admitted, her voice tinged with worry. "I’ve never seen anything like this before."

"Do you feel hungry? Thirsty?" she asked, trying to piece together the puzzle.

Ray shook his head. "No. I haven’t eaten or drunk anything in half a day, and I don’t feel tired, either."

"And do you need to go to the bathroom?"

Ray shook his head again.

Julia pulled out her phone and showed Ray a picture of a sexy naked woman.

"What is this?" Ray asked, grimacing.

"It’s a test. Do you feel anything when you look at this picture?"

Ray stared at the image for a few more seconds. "I can see that she’s sexy, but... I don’t feel any urge. Oh fuck, now I’m impotent," he said, panicking as he touched his groin in disbelief.

Julia sighed. "I don’t know what happened to you, but your body is definitely different. Your skin is incredibly tough, even though it looks and feels normal. And you have no heartbeat. If I didn’t know you, I’d swear you were a borg."

Ray’s eyes widened in panic. "No heartbeat?!"

"That’s why I’m saying you’re like a borg," she replied calmly.

Ray stared at her, too stunned to speak.

"If you want, I can try to penetrate deeper. I have the tools for that," she offered, glancing at the mini drill and cutter on the table.

Ray looked at the tools and shook his head, unsure of how his body would react.

Julia left the room for a moment and returned with two steaming cups of hot chocolate.

"Take some sips. It’ll help you relax," she said, handing him a cup.

Ray took the cup, blew on it, and took a sip. "Hot chocolate with milk. Even if normally synth hot cholate tasted like hot vomit somehow Julia knew how to make it taste better. "At least now we know I’m waterproof," he said with a faint smile.

They sat in silence, sipping their drinks, lost in thought. Ray eventually stood up to leave, but before he could go, Julia grabbed his arm.

"Take care of yourself, Ray. And if you need a shoulder to lean on, you know where to find me."

Ray nodded and left the clinic. Outside, he paused, staring at his hands for a few moments before shaking his head and walking away, the weight of his new reality pressing heavily on his mind.

__________

As Ray walked, his mind raced with the implications of what Julia had said. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice someone shouting his name until the sound cut through his haze.

“Hey, Ray! How are you?” a man called out.

Ray looked up and saw them—Red and his group.

Red, a skinny man with sharp features and long, fiery red hair, approached with a smirk. Despite his wiry appearance, Ray knew better than to underestimate him. Beneath that lean frame, Red was packed with chrome—strong enough to snap a neck without breaking a sweat.

“I’m good, Red. You?” Ray replied, forcing a smile.

“I’m doing pretty good, but didn’t Johnny send you to make a delivery?” Red’s words hit Ray like a punch to the gut, and he flinched, remembering the lost package.

“I just got back. I was on my way to report to him,” Ray said, scratching the back of his head nervously.

Red moved closer, slinging an arm around Ray’s neck a little too tightly. “Oh, you can come with us then. We’re headed there now anyway,” Red said with a smug grin. “By the way, have you been working out? You feel a lot sturdier than last time.”

Ray just nodded, trying to keep his cool as they walked together to meet Johnny.

Inside the office, Ray found himself face-to-face with Johnny Rivers, the boss. Johnny was a massive man, built like a bear, with a strong jaw, piercing brown eyes, and a thick black beard that added to his intimidating presence. Dressed in a white shirt, black vest, and blue jeans, he looked like he’d stepped straight out of an old biker movie.

Taking a deep breath, Ray began to explain, “I got jumped while sneaking around Tiger Fangs’ territory. I tried to run, but one of them tackled me and hit me in the head. When I came to, the package was gone.”

Johnny sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. His deep voice was steady as he said, “What’s important is that you’re here now.” He paused, then asked, “How’s Lina?”. This is how Johnny always called his mom . Short for Joselina.

“She’s... good,” Ray answered, though his eyes betrayed him as he looked down.

Johnny’s expression softened. “She’s getting worse, isn’t she?”

Ray nodded, unable to meet Johnny’s gaze.

“It’s okay, Ray. It’s not your fault, and don’t sell yourself short. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and most importantly, you always try your best,” Johnny reassured him.

Ray nodded again, feeling a small, fleeting sense of comfort from Johnny’s words.

“Go call Red. I need to talk to him. After that, you can head out,” Johnny said, waving Ray away.

As Ray walked out of the office, he felt a little better. Johnny always knew the right thing to say.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

----------------------------------------

Back in his room, Ray sat on the floor, staring at his arm. After a few seconds, he sighed and walked to the bathroom, grabbing an old electric toothbrush he used to clean his shoes.

“Hey, Ray, are you alright?” Lina called from the couch, her eyes glowing as she read something on her tablet.

“I’m just a little tired, that’s all,” Ray replied, feeling a pang of guilt as he walked back to his room. He wanted to stay and talk, but he had something more urgent to figure out.

Sitting on the floor again, Ray took a deep breath, trying to remember the sensation from when his computer had been consumed. Suddenly, his arm shifted, as if a swarm of ants was crawling under his skin, enveloping the toothbrush. In the next moment, it vanished, replaced by a flood of technical information—everything from the power of the electromotor inside to the exact length of the brush.

“Now what do I do with it? Maybe I could use this to become an engineer,” Ray mused, his mind racing with possibilities.

He sighed and pulled out his laptop, quickly searching the internet for anything he could find on nanites. As he read, he realized something had changed within him. He could remember every article, every word, as if they were burned into his memory after a single glance.

A loud bang on his door snapped him out of his trance. He got up and opened the door to find his mother, Lina, in her wheelchair.

“Come and eat,” she said, wheeling herself over to the small table in the corner of the apartment.

Ray sat down and took the cup of noodles in front of him. His mother couldn’t cook anymore because of her illness, multiple sclerosis, but they always ate together when he was home. He blew on the noodles, but quickly realized it didn’t bother him if they were still steaming hot.

"Mmm, this ramen is hitting the spot," Ray said, taking a satisfied slurp.

"I'm glad you like it. It's nice to have a warm meal together," his mom replied with a gentle smile.

“Yeah, it’s been a while since we’ve had a quiet evening like this,” Ray agreed, his mind briefly drifting to all the work he’d been doing lately to earn more money.

His mom nodded, her eyes closing for a few seconds as she took deep breaths. "So, how's everything going with work? Anything exciting happening lately?"

Ray hesitated, unsure of how much to share. "Work’s been busy, but nothing too out of the ordinary. Just trying to stay on top of things, you know?"

"Well, don't forget to take breaks and take care of yourself. It's important to find balance," she said, her voice filled with concern.

"Thanks, Mom. I'll keep that in mind," Ray replied, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort in her words.

They continued eating in silence, the simple joy of being together easing some of the weight on Ray's shoulders.

After helping his mom to bed, Ray returned to his room and locked the door. Sitting on the floor, he focused on his palm, thinking about the toothbrush. Suddenly, a mass of nanites formed, perfectly replicating the toothbrush and attaching it to his hand.

“Yes!” Ray exclaimed, excitement coursing through him.

It took a few tries, but he finally got it. He turned the toothbrush on and off, scrubbing around with it. It seemed to work just fine, but he couldn’t help but wonder, "How does it get energy?"

Then he remembered the two bars in the corner of his vision. The blue bar had a small timer showing how much time he could keep the toothbrush running—and it was a lot. With a thought, the toothbrush deconstructed back into nanites.

As the nanites crawled back into his palm, Ray marveled at their capabilities. “This is amazing. What kind of nanites are these?”

He recalled that nanites usually acted like tiny workers, moving stuff around, but his nanites could shift themselves into the material and then revert back to their original state.

“Wait... are my clothes made of nanites?”

With a thought, the nanites that formed his clothes crawled back into his body, leaving him naked. He looked down at his body—it appeared the same as he remembered. Then, with another thought, the nanites reformed into his clothes. He did this a few more times, marveling at the process.

He moved to his drawer and took out a shirt. The nanites quickly consumed it, and with a thought, the shirt he was wearing shifted into the one he had just absorbed.

“Cool. So, I’m a shapeshifter. But is that all I can do?” Ray wondered, recalling that nanites could be used to access devices.

He quickly grabbed his laptop and opened it up.

“Please don’t blow up,” he muttered as he placed his hand on the laptop. The nanites spread from his hand, infiltrating the laptop, and suddenly, he felt like the device was an extension of his body. With a thought, he powered it on, controlling the apps with his mind like a cursor.

Then, a crazy thought popped into his head. “Screw it, let’s try it.”

The world around him warped, strange letters appeared again, and he found himself sitting in his room—but everything was different, shifting around him like a glitch in reality. A second later, he was snapped back to his room, only to find his laptop smoking.

“Oh, shit!” Ray exclaimed, grabbing the laptop. After a few moments of frantic waving, he sat back on the floor, staring at the damaged device.

“You served me well,” he lamented, then remembered something.

“Repair,” he thought. He could feel the nanites inside shifting, repairing all the damage he’d caused. And man, did he fry the laptop good.

“They’re fast,” Ray noted as the laptop booted back up within seconds.

“Let’s see... I can shapeshift, repair, deconstruct, control, and reconstruct any kind of object. And let’s not forget the perfect memory.”

Ray looked down at his hands, a determined expression crossing his face.

“Maybe now I can make enough money to save Mom,” he muttered, shaking his head. “No, I definitely will.”

_______________

Ray tossed and turned in bed, desperately trying to find sleep, but it eluded him. He finally gave up and sighed, staring at the ceiling. "Guess I don’t need to sleep after all," he muttered to himself. "Might as well go for a walk." The city, always awake, was bound to offer some distraction.

He quietly left his apartment, the familiar stench of garbage and decay assaulting his senses the moment he stepped outside. The corridors of Megabuilding H10, his home since he could remember, were as filthy as ever. Trash piled up in corners, the faint flicker of neon signs reflecting off discarded cans and broken bottles.

"I’ll leave this place soon," Ray whispered to himself, more of a promise than a statement. He headed towards the elevator, trying to ignore the distant sounds of domestic disputes and the occasional scream.

As he stepped out of the building, a series of gunshots echoed from the back alley. Instinctively, Ray froze, then carefully began to sneak towards the source of the noise. He moved like a shadow, his footsteps silent as he rounded the corner and peered into the dimly lit alley.

"Fuck," he breathed as he took in the scene. A small shop, one he recognized, was being ransacked. Two men, both sporting Tiger Fangs tattoos, were pacing in front of the store with their guns drawn. Inside, through the cracked glass of the front window, Ray saw a third man holding a gun to the head of the elderly shopkeeper—a woman Ray had known for years. His heart pounded in his chest, or at least, it felt like it did. Even though he technically didn’t have a heart anymore, the thudding in his ears was unmistakable. His fists clenched and unclenched, the urge to do something clawing at him.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled his hood down low over his face, a habit he’d developed as a delivery boy—never let them see your face. Silently, he inched closer to one of the thugs, who was momentarily distracted. As he moved, Ray noticed something different about his body—he felt faster, stronger. The thug barely had time to react as Ray’s fist connected with his jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Ray stared at his fist, surprised at the power behind the punch. Before he could relish the moment, a barrage of bullets whizzed past him, forcing him to dive for cover behind one of the motorcycles parked nearby.

"Think, Ray, think," he whispered to himself, his mind racing as bullets pinged off the metal. Then, an idea struck him. He reached out, placing his hand on the bike, and willed it to move. To his amazement, the engine roared to life, and the motorcycle sped forward, crashing into one of the gunmen and sending him flying.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Ray dashed into the store. The thug inside turned his gun on him, but Ray raised his ar. The bullets barely slinked in to his skin before the nanites consumed them and repaired the damage . The pain was still there but didn't hurt so much as he remembered. Ray charged the punk who shot him, slamming him into the ground. The man groaned and tried to rise, but Ray was quicker, snatching the gun from his hand and pointing it at his face.

The thug’s eyes widened in fear. "Wait, wait! Don’t shoot!" he pleaded, raising his hands in surrender.

Ray narrowed his eyes, something about the whole situation not adding up. "Aren’t you a little too young to be a Tiger Fangs?" he asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

The thug hesitated, then blurted out, "We’re not real Tiger Fangs! We were just using their name!"

Ray sneered, the pieces falling into place. "Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind," he growled, waving the gun towards the door.

The kid didn’t need to be told twice. He bolted, leaving his unconscious friends behind. Ray watched him go, then turned to the old shopkeeper, who was trembling in fear. He felt a pang of guilt for scaring her but knew there was no time to apologize. "I’m not with them," he assured her softly, before quickly exiting the shop.

Outside, he glanced down at the two thugs still lying in the alley, then began rifling through their pockets. He found their pistols, a few shards, and keys to a nearby Yaiba Kusanagi "Mizuchi." A wicked grin spread across his face—he’d always wanted a bike like this.

He moved the bike to a darker corner and placed his hand on it. Instantly, the nanites in his system removed the tacky stickers and integrated the bike’s system into his own, giving him full control. He revved the engine a few times, enjoying the purr, before deciding to head back home.

As he rode through the neon-lit streets, the reality of what he’d done started to sink in. He had just taken out three guys, and with no weapons. Sure, they were kids, but it was still a big deal. Pulling up to his building, he realized he needed to talk to Johnny about the bike—he didn’t want it tracked back to him.

Not long after, his phone buzzed with a message from Red, summoning him to a meeting.

_____

Ray arrived at the location, a large garage, and stepped inside. Red was lounging on an old couch with two other guys Ray didn’t recognize. Their conversation died the moment they noticed him. Red waved him over with a grin.

Ray wasn’t sure why Red had called him—he’d known the guy for years, but they weren’t exactly close. "I heard you lost the package," Red said, getting straight to the point.

Ray tensed but nodded. "Yeah, I did."

Red’s grin widened. "I did some digging and found out where it is."

Ray’s curiosity piqued. "Where?"

"It’s on Tiger Fangs turf," Red replied casually.

Ray’s heart skipped a beat. "Okay, but why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want to go get it back, but I need one more person," Red explained, his eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and danger. "Are you in?"

Ray hesitated. "Why me?"

"Because you’re good at sneaking around," Red said simply.

Ray couldn’t argue with that. His skills as a delivery boy had taught him how to move unnoticed, how to blend into the shadows. "Alright," he finally agreed. "When and where?"

"Tonight, be here at 11 p.m.," Red instructed.

Ray nodded, still a bit unsure. "Does Johnny know about this?"

"Of course," Red said, his grin never faltering. "He’s the one who told me to do it."

Ray nodded again and left, Red’s smug smile lingering in his mind.

_____________

Later that night, Ray parked his bike and looked around. The city’s filth seemed even more oppressive under the dim streetlights, mountains of trash sprawling as long as his eyes could see . "So much trash," Ray muttered, wrinkling his nose at the stench.

He wandered over to a nearby pile and began sifting through it. Among the broken electronics and discarded junk, he found a laptop, a fan, a battery, and, to his disgust, a dildo. "Gross," he mumbled, ignoring the offensive item and placing his hand on the rest. The nanites did their work, breaking down the objects and integrating their data into his mind. He stared at his hand as it morphed into a functional fan, blowing cool air across his face.

He experimented for a while, shifting his body parts into various tools and objects. "I wonder how much I can consume," Ray mused, testing his limits. Hours passed, and he realized he had no limit—he even consumed an entire car, though he felt no heavier than before.

Gunshots echoed nearby, snapping him out of his thoughts. He quickly dove under a pile of trash, waiting, but nothing happened. Crawling out cautiously, he felt something wet and unpleasant on his stomach. He checked and nearly vomited. "Shit," he groaned, the smell making him gag. Instinctively, his nanites consumed the mess, cleaning his clothes in the process.

"I didn’t need to know about shit," Ray muttered, wiping his now-clean shirt. He crept towards the origin of the gunshots, climbing a small hill of garbage to get a better view.

Lying face down on the ground was a large man, his black skin glistening under the dim light. He wore a red sleeveless jacket over a black T-shirt and jeans. What caught Ray’s attention, though, was the man’s jewelry—a thick gold chain around his neck, two expensive-looking watches, and a golden-plated arm. Cautiously, Ray approached and turned the man over, recoiling slightly when he saw the hole in his head and the vacant stare in his lifeless eyes.

"Damn," Ray whispered, feeling a strange mix of emotions. He quickly stripped the man of his valuables, pocketing the jewelry, shards, and a sleek black-and-gold pistol with "Rex" engraved on the barrel. A semi-automatic pistol with a sleek, modern design. It featured a dark, metallic frame, made from steel and aluminum for durability and lightweight handling. The grip had a textured surface for better control, and the trigger guard was notably angular. The barrel was longer than typical pistols. It have been designed for precision shooting. The golden accents, particularly on the slide and muzzle, gave it a distinctive aesthetic.

As he turned to leave, a thought struck him—if his nanites could consume organic matter, could they consume a whole body? Hesitant, Ray placed his hand on the corpse. The nanites swarmed over the body, devouring it in seconds. The moment they finished, Ray doubled over, clutching his head as pain seared through his skull. Strange, indecipherable letters flashed in his mind before they were replaced by disjointed memories.

Ray’s head felt like it was splitting open, the pain so intense it was as if something was tearing his mind apart from the inside. Strange letters flashed before his eyes, a language he couldn’t understand, and just as quickly as the pain came, it vanished. But something else replaced it—flashes of memories that weren’t his. He saw glimpses of a life that didn’t belong to him, the life of Rex Shawn. He saw the last moments of Rex’s life, felt the sharp sting of fear as a Asian man pulled the trigger, ending it all. Ray dropped to all fours, retching, but nothing came out. He still wasn’t sure if he even had a stomach anymore.

After a few minutes, Ray forced himself to stand, his body trembling as he tried to process what just happened. Rex’s memories were jumbled, incomplete, like a shattered mirror with pieces missing, likely lost in that fatal headshot. Panic gripped him, and without another thought, Ray bolted, running as fast as he could back to his bike.

As he sped through the city streets, his thoughts were a tangled mess. "Maybe I can use his memories to make some money," Ray muttered to himself, the idea forming like a lifeline in his chaotic mind. Rex had been a fixer, a good one. He never pulled the trigger himself, always letting others do the dirty work, but he was the mastermind behind many jobs. He knew a lot of people in the city, had connections everywhere. "Maybe I could start working as a merc? I’ve got this skin that’s tough as dermal armor, and I’m stronger and faster than a base human. Maybe..." His thoughts were interrupted as his system alerted him.

"Guess it’s time to meet with Red," he sighed, pushing aside his thoughts.

----------------------------------------

Later that night, they sat in a car, parked in the shadows, watching a small gambling house. Ray could already spot some Tyger Fangs moving around, their presence like a dark cloud hanging over the place.

"What’s the plan, Red?" Ray asked, his voice low, as he glanced at Red, who was scanning the area with his night vision eye implants.

"We sneak in and take the package, obviously," Red replied, his tone exasperated, as if Ray had asked something obvious.

Red spent a good five minutes surveying the surroundings before he finally spoke. "I think I found a way in." He pointed toward a narrow alleyway far to the right. "I know a secret entrance to this place."

Without another word, they moved silently through the shadows, everyone armed and ready. Red carried his powerful red sniper rifle, while the other two guys had Unity pistols. Ray was armed too, with the pistol he’d taken from Dexter. It was all black now, the name "REX" no longer etched on the barrel.

In the alley, Red pushed aside a large trash bin, revealing a trap door. "How did you know about this?" Ray asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"Does it matter?" Red shot back. "I’m going first. Follow me."

Something about this didn’t feel right, but Ray pushed the thought aside and followed. Red had never gone against Johnny’s orders before.

They descended a ladder into a long, dimly lit hall. Red motioned for them to keep quiet as they approached a door. Red opened it cautiously and stepped inside. The others followed, with Ray entering last. As soon as he stepped in, Ray knew something was wrong. A group of Tyger Fangs stood there, waiting, with Red and the other two guys standing beside them, all with smug looks on their faces.

"What the—" Ray began, but his words were cut short. Red, still smiling, pointed his red snipper at Ray and pulled the trigger.

The impact sent Ray crashing to the floor, a hole blasted clean through his head. The room fell silent, everyone assuming it was over. But as they turned to leave, one of the Tyger Fangs glanced back. His eyes widened in shock as he saw Ray’s body twitch, then suddenly spring back to life.

"Didn’t you shoot him in the head?" someone asked, disbelief evident in their voice.

"Yeah, I did," Red replied, his voice shaky now, fear creeping in.

Ray stood up slowly, his gaze locking onto Red. There was a deadly calm in Ray’s eyes that sent chills down Red’s spine.

"What are you staring at? Shoot him!" someone shouted, breaking the tense silence.

Bullets began to rain down on Ray. He lifted his arms to shield himself. The bullets tore through his forearms, legs, and abdomen, but instead of blood, the bullets were absorbed into his body. Ray’s skin turned an ominous shade of black, like liquid shadows creeping over him hardening his skin .

Without warning, Ray lunged at Red. Red tried to raise his sniper rifle, but Ray reached out, his touch turning the weapon into a mass of writhing black nanites. Red’s eyes widened in terror as he dropped the weapon and stumbled backward.

A man swung a katana at Ray, but the blade embedded itself in Ray’s arm, only to be absorbed a moment later. Ray’s arms shifted, morphing into long, deadly blades. In a fluid motion, he turned and sliced the man in half. Panic set in, and the remaining Tyger Fangs bolted for the door, but not before Ray cut down two more of them. The survivors managed to slam the door shut behind them, locking Ray inside.

Ray blinked, looking around in shock. He fell to the ground, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he stared at the mutilated bodies. His gaze shifted to his arms, now morphed into blades, dripping with blood.

"Did... did I do this?" he muttered, his voice trembling. He remembered Red shooting him in the head, but when he touched the spot, there was no hole.

With a shudder, Ray dragged the two corpses out into the hall where he had come from, letting his nanites consume them entirely.

"Red, you motherfucker," Ray growled, anger boiling over as he turned and ran for the trap door. He wasn’t just going to let this go. Not by a long shot.