[https://rom.ac/img/132RR/154-05.jpg]

[https://rom.ac/img/92RRnmore/snipnewAVVY.gif]

Our peace didn't last long. A massive, fiery explosion belched from the broken skyscraper and snapped the metal beam from which I was hanging off, sending us flying off.

A piece of scorched metal crashed into Pilot, flinging his katana out of his hand and somewhere into the smoke.

He didn't bother going after it, no... he went after me.

He called me "UNSCANNABLE" and shouted something about me being "ACCOUNTABLE FOR THE FALL OF EUREKA!"

I had no idea what his problem was. I was trapped in the Dead Zone while the city fell into ruin.

Adrenaline injections of the Biomatrix must have held me together. They were probably the only reason why I didn't let go of the trowel. There must have been mere seconds between us and the ground, but my perception of time remained stretched, my responses faster than they've ever been, my vision in a dizzying 360 degree radius. My hearing was impossibly clear, lacking what should have been horrible shell-shock ringing from the explosion. A brilliantly blue Neural Interface blinked slowly, crowning Pilot's head.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

A thought crept into my brain... "What if I were to...?"

Pilot swam through the air towards me in gliding motions, his arms locking around my neck in an attempt to snap it.

"TIME TO PAY OFF YOUR LIABILITY PREMIUMS!" He barked.

I twisted, turning with more force than his choke-lock could hold.

"My credit card expired!" I responded, bearing the extremely dull trowel onto his head, smashing his right Neural Interface node. Pieces of microchips and electrical sparks followed the gliding motion of the trowel.

The left Neural Transmitter blinked neurotically, attempting to make contact with Pilot's right brain hemisphere.

Pilot twisted, flailed in torment. Sudden Neural Disconnect equals to mental meltdown! Hah! Take that!

As our flight nearly concluded I saw his eyes for the very first time, right through the reflective-green goggles.

They were filled with endless fear and confusion.

"Waaaat?! Why?! Snippy?! Get out of my toaster!" He cried in his old voice of dull misapprehension, unable to grasp the inexplicable shift of reality brought on by the complete neural/mental collapse.

I've had my Pyrrhic victory!

Then... the ground came to us with its loving, hard embrace.