In Machitou, there’s a couple of places I consider safe. Places where cops, corpos, gangs, all can’t touch them. They can come, bluster, shout. But as long as we were all polite, then we were protected.
The bar owned by a man named Jane was one of them.
Layla and I approached the bottom of a large structure in the center of the forest of skyscrapers around us. The old building had once been a nuclear reactor, from before the discovery of pneuma and aether. After it had been decommissioned around fifty years ago, it had been cleaned out entirely and left at the center of what would later become the slums. Then Jane bought it.
Well, I say bought. To hear him tell the story, he won it in a Tengan Match to the death. But the name of the person he claims to have fought changes everyday, including outright champions. We all ribbed him for it, but the point was, Jane owned the bar, and no one caused trouble there if they could help it.
We stumbled into his beat up old bar, through the old plastic swinging doors, walking across the rubber mats and random carpet he’d placed on top of the concrete floors. Everyone bustled around. In a corner the chrome addicts would gather and compare their parts, one of them opening up their chest so a friend could help them with a tech issue.
Over by the pool tables, the old timers smoked cigars or e-cigs while joking together. A couple of fancy-looking guys from downtown were flirting with a quartet of Aztec guys and girls. One girl, with arms replaced by fake stone arms, giggled, giving us a wave as we passed.
At the bar front, Jane himself stood mixing drinks. The bar used to be a set of control panels. He’d hollowed it out and slapped some fake wood across it, putting drinks in where wires and buttons had once been.
The man himself was short, and overweight. He had red hair pulled back into a ponytail, an old denim vest over a red shirt, and a large scar across his eye that seemed to dance every time he laughed. He glanced at us as we approached.
“Oy. You two here to loiter again?” he scoffed. Then he blinked at the sight of a handle in my shoulder, scar dancing. “Odin’s beard kid, what the hell?”
I leaned against the bar while Layla pulled over a stool. “Can we get your aid kit?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he turned and grabbed a big box out of the makeshift shelf behind him. “Fucking hell kid, you need to go to a hospital!”
“You know why that’s not an option,” I grumbled. Jane moved around the bar, waving away Layla only to see the graze wound on her side.
“Lay, what the hell?” he opened up the box and moved behind me. “Okay. Pulling it out on three. Ready. One-”
Pain.
“Fuck!”
“Language, brat,” Jane mumbled, tossing the knife onto the bar counter. Everyone ignored us as he began disinfecting my wound, the sting of it drawing a hiss from my lips. “Who stabbed you?”
“One of Manuel’s crew,” I grumbled.
“Manuel? Thought that stupid asshole was leaving the city.”
“He must have missed the memo.”
Jane scoffed. I felt a piece of cloth rub against my shoulder, followed by a pinch as a needle entered my skin. “Give me a bit and I’ll help you out with your cut Layla. Help yourself to a sandwich or two.”
“Yessss,” Layla hopped over the bar, grinning as she opened up the fridge and started pulling things out. I watched my big eater of a sister make herself a positively titanic sandwich.
“How the hell did you get that anyways?”
“Manuel shot at us.”
Jane’s hands froze on my shoulder. “Shot at you? With what?”
“A gun.”
"Kors I røven!" he let out a Danish phrase I wasn’t familiar with. “Are you kidding me? Where’d he get something like that from? Is Sam giving his boys heat now?”
“We don’t know,” Layla spoke for me, her first sandwich gone. “He came at us with a big group.”
“Why?”
Neither of us answered. Guess that was an answer in itself. He sighed.
“You pair of narhats,” a cold sensation filled my shoulder. He slapped some tape on top of it, then gave me a gentle tap on my head. “Dumb kids. What are you doing working for Sam again? His boys are no joke. Should I tell your parents? Hell, I’ll let Claire know.”
“Don’t,” I raised a hand to my watch. After a bit of working on the screen while Jane moved behind the bar again, I sent over the money I’d taken from Manuel to Jane. His bar computer let out a notification sound, and he blinked at the amount I’d sent.
“Damn. That’s a lot of cheddar. Guess Sam pays at least.”
I didn’t correct him. Instead I took off my magnet line and placed it on the counter, a few pieces falling off. “Just let me leave my magnet line in your printer for the night to get fixed.”
“You broke that again!?” he whistled. “Hell of an eventful night.”
I eyed him for a moment. His scar danced as he chuckled and took the magnet line in hand. “Alrighty. Keep in mind, the old girl is running a little legal, so she might take a few tries.”
“You didn’t get a hacker to break it again?”
“Not yet. Should be getting a guy in. She’ll get fixed, just don’t expect any new ill shit to come out of it,” Jane looked between us. “...Kids. You shouldn’t be dealing with shit like this. At your age you should be going to coinkas. Feeling up brats and shit. Not getting damn stab wounds.”
Layla shrugged, a bowl of ice cream in her hands now. “We don’t have much choice though.”
“Bullshit,” Jane rubbed his face, sighing. “You’re going back to school after the summer right? I can talk to Sam. You’ve got your whole lives to do stupid shit, but at least wait until your balls drop.”
“Ewww,” Layla squished up her face in disgust. I got up from my seat, wincing a bit, then nodded at her. She came around the counter after dropping her empty bowl in the sink.
“Like she said. We don’t have a choice. Please take care of my magnet line.”
With that, I began walking off.
“You need to work on your exits! Goddamn narhat!”
I ignored him. Jane had been paid and I could trust him to fix my line. In the meantime. Home.
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When Layla and I got to our apartment block, we entered the elevator. I leaned against the wall and stared idly at the screen at the back of it. An advertisement was playing. Layla sat down against the wall next to me and watched along.
It was for a convention in a few months. Lots of big names in major media, as well as some folk from the indie side, streamers, cosplayers, vtubers, comic book creators, that kind of thing.
An image of Bella showed up. A world-famous v-tuber some people thought was an ai. Blonde with pigtails and blue eyes, she was adorable. Her digital form was grinning while hugging a small bunny. I had a fond smile on my face at the sight of her. And honestly, the other folk coming to the convention.
In a life of hardship, it was nice to see people coming together for something as simple as loving fictional universes. Or maybe I was just feeling sentimental.
Then Layla sighed, resting back a little more loosely. I looked down at her. “You okay?”
“Yeah… just tired. Parts are feeling a bit raw.”
The elevator opened up on the 4th floor. Apartment blocks like the one we lived in were rarer in the world now. The one we were in had been built back in the 2070’s and made to provide safe housing for the poor. Didn’t work out.
Cheap, cramped, concrete and steel, tall as hell, and constantly breaking down. The floor we lived in was supposed to have a walkway, another planned building going through it to allow people to cross the street. The project failed. Now we just had a big ass hole going through the center, rusting metal hanging in the center of the large clear space in the center of the building. The courtyard below had some folk smoking and eating at busted metal tables, the smell of cooking yakitori coming from the stall that was always open down there.
We walked past our ‘neighbor’, a guy who’d taken a spot in the middle of the hallway, resting inside a tent made of cloth and tarp. He was asleep, but his dog perked up at the sight of us. I scratched his ears and continued on.
Our door was 43. I put my hand against the door and waited for it to read my fingerprint…
“Is it broken again?” Layla asked after I’d been standing there awkwardly for a minute.
“You think?” I said with more sarcasm than needed. I removed my hand and went to pound on the door to try and get the damn thing to work, only for Layla to catch my fist.
“Hey!” she hissed. “You want mom and dad to wake up?”
Ah. Right.
“Let’s just try again, huh?”
She quickly moved forward and gently placed her own hand on the door. For a moment, it didn’t seem to work again, but finally it opened.
“See, we just… oh.”
I sighed as the door finished swinging open. “Hi, mom.”
She must have been awake awhile. Her blonde hair was pulled into a rough ponytail, dark bags under eyes. The smell of coffee was hanging around her. Mom looked between us, then stepped aside.
“Kitchen. Now.”
I didn’t argue, just walked in after Layla.
Calling it a ‘kitchen’ was generous. It was more like a counter with a sink in it. We had a toaster oven that I had to keep fixing, but nothing else to cook with.
Mom pointed at the rickety plastic table, where two plates rested. Two blocks of kelp protein, steaming potatoes, and some charred slices of onion with butter on everything. Not 5 star, but still filling.
Layla kissed Mom on the cheek. I gave her a hug. And we sat down. She dropped across from us, looking exhausted. She always was nowadays.
“...You okay?” I asked, not eating just yet.
“No, I’m not,” her blue eyes were soft. “Yun, Layla, where were you? You were supposed to be home an hour ago.”
“Things… got a little hectic.”
“They can’t just ‘get hectic’. You need to call me. What, did you get lost leaving the arcade?” she leaned forward. “We have to talk to each other… Okay?”
I eyed my mom for a moment. Ever since she’d adopted me, then Layla, I’d watched this proud and happy woman slowly get beat down by life. Over and over, someone who least deserved it, getting hit until she could barely stand.
My nod was quick. She didn’t seem ready to let it go, but sighed rather than continue. Then she looked over at Layla, who had finished her food. “As for you. Have you been keeping up with your Pneuma shots?”
“Everyday.”
“Good… that’s good.”
“Are we running out again?” I asked.
Mom smiled softly. “Don’t worry about that, okay? Dad and I will take care of you guys. Just stop worrying us.”
“Okay mom,” Layla said.
She got up and kissed us on the head, walking over to her room. “Good night. See you in the morning.”
I watched her go, and sat back in my chair.
“...I haven’t used any Pneuma in a week,” Layla admitted.
I already knew that. “You should.”
“We can’t buy more yet.”
“Your chrome is gonna start running out of power if you don’t recharge it.”
“I barely use it nowadays-”
I got up and walked over to the lockbox in the corner of our living room. It was the size of a textbook, and opened with my thumbprint. Inside, tubes of violet and white liquid rested. Only three left. No wonder mom asked. I grabbed one and tossed it to Layla, her hand snatching it out of the air. She scowled at me, placing the tube on the table.
“I don’t need it.”
“Sam is paying us tomorrow. We can afford it. Just inject it, please? For mom and dad?”
Layla pouted. But after a long bit of glaring between us, finally she reached behind her neck and opened up the port there. I’d gotten used to seeing my sister open her neck up to reveal the small hole within. She took the tube and snapped it open on one side. Then she pressed it against the port.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
A sound like gas hissing filled the air. Her eyes dilated, and I watched the glow of violet-white begin to glow beneath her skin. The Pneuma flowed across her, highlighting her cybernetics as it sank into her body. It was both beautiful and disturbing, watching that stuff enter and flow through her.
After a while, she tossed the empty tube aside, gasping.
“Feel better?”
“It never ‘feels’ good. Just hot and itchy around my chrome,” she rubs at herself for a bit, sighing. “Okay. Your turn.”
When I raised an eyebrow, she laughed. “Eat your food. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She got up and walked to her room. I stared at my kelp meal for a moment. I hated kelp protein. It tasted super fishy to me. Wasn’t supposed to with how they spiced it, but-
Whatever. I needed to eat. Tomorrow was gonna be a big day.
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Layla Kaneda
I woke up to my internal alarm buzzing in my head. Not literally. It was a false sensation, like a phantom pain, but all over me, a vibration. I got up and looked around.
My room was really just a thin cot and a desk, but I’d done my best to make it my own. Lots of stickers on the cement walls, some posters of Son Goku and a few of my other favorite heroes stuck on the wall. I rolled to my feet and sighed.
Yun was snoring in the other room. Anyone who knew him wouldn’t believe he could snore like that. He was so stoic sometimes. But after a few hours, he’d start to sound like a chainsaw. The thin walls didn’t help.
I got up and changed from my pajamas to my workout gear. The chainsaw sound stopped when I was putting my sweatpants on. I tossed some of my other clothes into a bag and put my watch on. When I left my room, Yun was leaving at the same time.
He looked tired. He always did nowadays. I looked away from him, but I think he noticed my worry.
“I’m good. Just need some food.”
“You wanna get some yakitori before we head to Claire’s?”
Yun gave me a soft smile and nodded.
We headed out. Mom and Dad would be working, mom at wherever the temp agency sent her, dad at the junkyard he worked in now. Hopefully we could see him later? I missed him…
Side by side, we headed out into the city.
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Claire’s Gym used to be a mall. That was a long time ago, but people still shopped in the smaller stores. She’d bought it up after the big place got emptied and bombed out in the aftermath of the Cyborg Rebellions.
Now a place that had once been full of clothing stores, food courts, and giggling teenagers shopping, was full of weights, boxing rings, and… well, still giggling teens, but they were working out and sparring too.
It was built at the borders of the slums, suburbs, and downtown. And people from all across the city and country visited it. The place was famous. Old school weightlifters walking next to people wearing AR goggles that made them feel like they were walking through a forest or running across the stars.
But mostly, it was full of fighters.
Almost everyone fights in Machitou. Almost everyone Yun and I know anyways. I remember when I was a kid and Yun first walked me into this place. The smell of sweat, the sight of bodybuilders opening up their arms to readjust their cybernetics, the sight of people entering the VR suites to fight in massive fake battles.
I was a kid from a Morrocan orphanage. I’d never seen anything like it. It was terrifying.
Now it was home.
A big fist flew at me. I ducked down and spun on my right foot, my left one spinning out towards Yun’s face. He blocked the kick on his arm, and my other foot lifted off the floor to hit next to my left one, smashing through his guard.
Instead of letting me kick him, he ducked down and let my second leg fly over him, then punched up at me. I blocked with my arms, wincing as I was briefly juggled in the air before landing and snapping out a small punch that he parried away. I kicked again, then stepped from his punch, backflipping to make some room.
I think I had a dumb grin on my face. I couldn’t help it! Fighting was just so… fun.
Yun and I were in the middle of a VR suite. One of the older ones. The holograms around us flickered and buzzed, so the experience kinda sucked, but at least we didn’t have to pay for this one. For 20 minutes at least.
We were in a face bowling alley, one of those ones from the 80’s. Or the 90’s. Or the 10’s? Bowling alleys really didn’t change that much back then.
Point was that it took the look of an empty bowling alleyway, one of the free simulations that we could use. I liked it. It had lots of room, plenty of random stuff for us to interact with, and it didn’t shut down as much as the Japanese shrine did.
I jumped over one of those weird things that bowling balls came out off and put it between me and Yun, jumping off a table to come flipping forward. The exhilarating feeling of gravity pulling at me as I came down in a flipping ax kick made me want to scream with joy.
My foot sliced through the air and smashed into Yun’s shoulder. He winced as stepped aside, letting my foot continue down to crack into the floor, cracking the mat. He raised a palm and uppercut me.
Shoot, I left myself open. I barely blocked his palm strike on my crossed arms, getting sent through the air like I got fired out of a cannon.
I love my bro, but he’s way too damn strong for someone with no chrome. I flew back into the wall behind me and tried to get my feet against the wall so I could jump forward and attack again.
A fist was in front of my face. I snapped my head to the side before his punch could knock me out, the sound of wood cracking filling the air behind me. I kicked him in the stomach just to get him back, not able to get any real leverage to give it any power.
He stepped into it instead of backing away, grabbing me by the neck and holding me against the wall. His other hand snapped out. I winced.
His knuckles stopped at my nose. “...Well.”
I opened my eyes with a sigh. “Yeah. You win.”
“You’re getting faster,” he let go of my neck and I landed on my bare feet, bouncing just a bit.
“Not fast enough. You still have more wins than I do,” I watched the bowling alley disappear into a flickering wave of false light, replaced by the empty concrete and mat covered room.
“I’ve been fighting since I was eight, of course I beat you more times,” Yun said with his dumb logic. “You win more often than not now.”
Barely. Only because I got enhanced. I felt good about my chrome. It gave me a real life. But I sometimes felt like it was cheating. Without it I was a coughing mess. With it, I was faster and stronger than ever. I won before, but our fights were closer now, and it made me feel like…
I pushed aside the thought to breath deeply, feeling my body cool down again. “Go again?”
“Not right now,” Yun cracked his neck, standing tall and slowly calming down his breathing as he dripped sweat. “We should lift a bit. Besides. We’re out of time.”
A loud beep filled the air and Yun’s watch shone, my internal hud giving me the same message. ‘Session Over.’
“Damnit,” I sighed, walking next to him. “I wish we got more time. Or could use one of the shinier ones. Did you hear that Claire added a program with one of those old Grimdark battlefields? We could spar in the middle of a war!”
“Who would want that?”
I pouted at him. “You’re no fun.”
Yun shrugged. Out in the main gym, more people were roaming around or pumping their muscles on the various machines. High above, some of them were hopping around the parkour obstacle course, sometimes landing in the net when they slipped.
“You going up there?” Yun asked me when he saw me watching a girl flipping around on a pole to backflip through the air.
“Maybe. I just-”
“Oy. Layla. Yun.”
I stopped and winced. Uh oh. Yun was more calm, but he still stopped with me. We both turned to look at the person who shouted at us.
Claire Koenig. Our current sensei. She was a little shorter than Yun, but tall for a woman, with tight muscles that her tank top and yoga pants showed off, her abs glimmering with sweat. Her pink hair was cut into a punk style that made her look tough and pretty all at once.
She also had her sword at her hip. She’d probably just left teaching her HEMA class.
“Hey teach,” I said as brightly as I could.
Her green eyes looked between us. She looked very serious. I gulped.
“I heard you got shot at.”
“That’s a dirty lie,” Yun said casually. Claire raised an eyebrow then looked at me. I rubbed the back of my neck.
“And you’re working for Sam.”
Neither of us spoke. She sighed, placing a hand on her hip opposite of her sword. “What the hell are you two doing?”
“Working out,” Yun turned and started walking. I winced.
“Yun,” Claire’s voice stopped him. “I’m not finished. Come on.”
Her voice brooked no argument. She turned and started walking away. I followed, Yun coming along. She’d done a lot for us. For me. So yeah, we followed her.
Her office had once been a clothing store, one of those high-end ones that people paid a months rent to get a shirt in. Now it was a big open space, with an elevator in the center down to Claire’s personal gym floor. She sat at the big armchair next to the elevator, looking between us.
“Do you know how many of Sam’s people come to my gym?”
“A few, right?” I said. Yun didn’t add anything. “I spar with Cherie sometimes.”
“Cherie is one of two people who work with that piece of shit that I’ll actually let into my gym,” Claire scowled. “And she’s a special case.”
“Because she’s hot?” I joked. Claire smirked but became serious again.
“Because she’s earned it. Anyone else who goes to work for that gangster, I kick out.”
Yun stiffened. I wanted to say something, but when I opened my mouth, Claire tapped her sword’s hilt. I shut up.
“You both have better reason than the rest of Sam’s group for working for him… Just know. He’ll fuck you over. It’ll come out of nowhere. You’ll pay for it big. So watch your asses. Be ready for it.”
“...Is that why you let all the other gangs workout here?” Yun asked.
Claire scoffed. “The Aztecs, the Norse, the Triads. Anyone who work for them in this town have to just to make a living. I can understand that. No one joins a gang just for fun. Glory, pride, family, money, sure. But always in search of something better. I don’t mind helping them get stronger. Even those corporate a-holes that show up here to pretend and lift for their socials are worth a damn. But Sam made his trade turning on people. I can’t abide by him. So go ahead. Make your quick cash off of him.”
She leaned forward, sighing. “But pay your debts and get out before he buries you.”
I shuffled a bit. “It’s… just until we get enough.”
“Promise me.”
Yun and I shared a look, then nodded and looked back at her. “We promise.”
“Good. Now get the fuck out. You don’t get lessons with me until you’re finished with Sam.”
We left immediately. Claire had made it clear a few times. When she ended a conversation, that was that. No messing around.
No lessons with her. That hurt. Ever since I was little, Claire had been there. She was someone I looked up to. She was like a comic book hero or something. I’d never seen her lose a fight. Getting taught by her was so amazing.
“We’ll be okay,” Yun mumbled as we left.
“Yeah. But I don’t want to be ‘okay’. I want to be amazing.”
He gave me a soft smile. “Come on. Lifting.”
“Musclehead.”
We headed out to the weights. Then, after that. Sam. And hopefully we’d get paid.