It wasn’t too long before the sound of footsteps echoed through the bunker’s corridors, punctuated by gasps and mutters. Geoffrey had not been a man that people kept waiting, and their quick arrival attested to that fact. The sound of boots crunching over debris grew louder, interspersed with sharp, barked orders and the occasional curse.

They’d seen the bodies, no doubt. The wreckage of Geoffrey’s elite guards left a brutal message, one they had to step over to reach the command room. None of the lieutenants had any idea of who or what even waited for them, which was the whole point.

When they finally exited the hallway beyond and entered the room, I stayed back in the corner, letting all 7 feet of the Nexus loom silent and demonic in the background, claws still out and painted with Geoffrey’s blood.

Techlock stood at the center of the room, facing Geoffrey’s broken body that was sprawled across the floor. His mask was back in place, smeared with gore in a way that looked half-accidental and half-calculated.

The lieutenants filed in, each one accompanied by a bodyguard—more core-hulked brutes made their way inside, wielding a mix of spiked maces, axes, and one even had a shiny metal shock wand. It looked dainty in construct, but I was sure did more damage than any of the others when touched.

The lieutenants themselves weren’t cored, just as Geoffrey hadn’t been, and I wondered a bit at what it must mean that the leaders didn’t partake. My own experience with the mech told me that there was more to these things than just powering up, with the Nexus frame having pushed me to eat human flesh.

Then there were the bunkers . . .

It didn’t mean these men couldn’t fight, though. Each of them had scars, and they all carried themselves in a way that exuded the sharp-edged confidence of someone who’d fought their way up from the darkest alleys.

One of the men had a jagged scar that ran across his cheek, and another had just three fingers on his left hand. A third was freshly bleeding from a light gash on the arm, as if he’d been mid-fight when called to attend. Their eyes darted over the carnage as they entered, narrowing with street-savvy suspicion and poorly disguised unease.

“What da hell is going on ‘ere?” the three fingered one said. He was a wiry man with a greasy thin beard and wide, bloodshot eyes, that as he stepped forward, gripped a studded club in his good hand, his knuckles tight against the handle. His voice carried a mix of anger, suspicion, and careful fear.

“Where’s Geoffrey? And who the hell you supposed to be?”

Techlock tilted his head slightly, but from where I stood I could see a wobbly tremor working through his fingers. If he didn’t get that under control, he was buttered bread laid across a griddle.

“Geoffrey’s done. Now it’s about what comes next.”

Another lieutenant, this one a towering man with tattooed arms and a massive two-handed claymore slung across his back, scowled.

“You’re saying you did this?” His bodyguard, a hulk of a man somehow even larger, shifted slightly, gripping a serrated short sword.

“No,” Techlock said, his tone cool but deliberate. “He did.” He gestured toward me, his hand sweeping past Geoffrey’s ruined desk as if introducing me to the room. Only I noticed the light quiver in pinky finger as he did so.

The assembled group turned in unison, their gazes locking onto the Nexus. I didn’t move, letting my nightmarish frame do the talking. As I watched, their eyes roamed over my contours, no doubt tracing the razored edges of my claws and noting the blood spatters that had dried all over. Some of the men pulled out rosaries, their beads made of recycled machine parts and bullet casings, marked with the eagle, stars, and flame emblem of the Defensores Humanium. They muttered prayers under their breath, their fingers visibly trembling over the crude symbols of faith.

“What a culture!” CD enthused, his voice breaking into my mind. “Torans would be all over you at this point, dying for glory and destruction rather than surrendering pathetically without quarrel. Apes are weak. And they believe in all the wrong things.”

My eyes shot back to Techlock, and I saw that their fear had straightened him out. Not only wasn’t he shaking; he looked ready to fight if it came down to it.

“Techlock’s not. He’s panning out well. Better than expected. And besides, you know that we won the war. You saw what our knights are like. What’s that say about the Torans?”

“Blasphemy,” CD retorted angrily before going silent. “Wait, are you just baiting me into admitting that your species is superior?”

The three fingered man cleared his throat.

“You—you’re sayin’ that demon killed Geoffrey? Him and his guards?”

Techlock nodded.

“Geoffrey thought he could play with fire and not get burned. Turns out that he was very wrong. Play stupid games and win stupid prizes.”

The room fell into a tense silence. Some had gotten to their knees, still muttering to the gods. It was clear that no one else wanted to speak. Probably, despite all their time on the streets, they’d never had to deal with a situation quite like the one they were in and they had no idea how to respond.

Techlock took a step forward, raising his hands slightly, palms open as if presenting the scene before them.

“Look around,” he said, his voice suave and sly. Tech was back in his elements now, his words the unhurried rhythm of someone used to closing deals. “This is what Geoffrey left you all. Blood, bodies, and chaos. He thought he was untouchable, thought he could do anything he wanted. Did do anything he wanted. Made people play tea party here in this room. Always just bullying and grinding, breaking people for the fun of it. Geoffrey was insane.”

He gestured to the room.

“You all knew this day would come. Maybe not like this, maybe not now—but you knew. Geoffrey’s time was running out, and you all knew it. Thing is, he decided to take me out and instead he got took.”

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

A lieutenant shifted uncomfortably, his bodyguard gripping the haft of his spiked mace.

“So you’re sayin’—what? You’re takin’ over?”

Techlock tilted his head, the blood-smeared mask turning slightly toward the speaker.

“I’m not saying anything you don’t already know. Geoffrey’s gone. What happens next is on us.” His voice dropped a notch, taking on an edge. “I’m not here to play pretend. I’m here to do one of two things. Take control, or end your whole gods-broken gang, here and now.”

He paused, spending the moment to dramatically swing his face left and right, scanning them slowly to let them know he was taking their measure.

“Right now, as far as I can tell, Geoffrey’s mistakes are his own. All of you, you’re about to show me if I’m correct or not. Understand?”

Another lieutenant, a lanky man with deep dark pockets under his eyes, let out a derisive snort.

“We’re just supposed to follow you? ‘Cause you say so?”

“‘Cause you say so?’ Oh, that’s truly a brilliant comeback. Really, Alaric, do these people not understand how coups work?”

Techlock leaned forward, his mask inches from the man’s face.

“No. You will follow because you know I will destroy you if you don’t.”

I took the opportunity to let my kick blades out, showing off the swords in my feet, before retracting them back in.

The man glared at me before locking eyes with Techlock, but after a moment he averted his gaze down in submission.

“Yeah. Alright. I’ll work for ya, boss. Just keep things rolling and orderly, and you won’t have any troubles from me.”

Techlock straightened, turning his focus back to the group.

“You’ve all fought your way up the ladder. You know how this works. You back me, and I’ll make sure we come out of this stronger. Stick with me, and you’ll see profits like you’ve never dreamed. Protection, stability. It’ll be like it was. We’ll all be family. But with a patriarch who isn’t a psychotic lunatic.”

“Yeah?” a woman said. She was wide-shouldered, her bare arms covered by tattoos, and I noticed she’d sheathed her short sword.

Finally a smart one.

“Yeah.” Tech let that hang in the air a moment, letting them have a chance to think. “Just keep one thing in mind. You cross me, you’ll end up the same way as Geoffrey. This guy doesn’t take prisoners, and he doesn’t take no for an answer.”

“Ooh, that’s good! Classic bad-guy monologue material. Could use a bit more flourish, though. Maybe something about feeding their entrails to the demon. Techlock makes for an entertaining puppet. That makes him . . . slightly better than you other simians.”

I didn’t answer, instead taking that moment to step forward, clacking the Nexus’s claws together and letting their metal ring through the broken room. The sound wasn’t too loud, but it was enough to set them all on edge. The lieutenants and their guards glanced my way, their expressions darkening with reluctant acceptance—or fear.

Techlock nodded, as though sealing the unspoken agreement.

“This is how it’s gonna work. You go back to wherever you are supposed to be. Continue on as normal. I’ll contact you one by one, bring your operations under me, get things understood and situated.” He stepped back, crossing his arms. “Now’s your chance. Speak your mind, or take your place. But decide quick. I don’t have time for half-measures. You’re either in or you’re not, and one more thing . . . don’t think I won’t find out if you try to take things for yourself that don’t belong to you.”

The lieutenants exchanged uneasy glances, some muttering under their breath. Two reached for their rosaries again, their fingers tracing the eagle and stars as if seeking divine permission.

“I think things are about to get good,” CD enthused.

I tensed.

The silence broke like a thunderclap as two lieutenants dropped their rosaries, drawing weapons and lunging forward. Their guards moved in unison, weapons raised to defend their bosses. That was all I needed.

Techlock stepped back, quick but unhurried, his composure almost unnervingly intact.

“I see Geoffrey’s mistakes run deeper than I thought,” he said, his voice calm despite the incoming attack.

I charged past him, kick blades snapping back out from the mech’s legs with long shicking noise. I pivoted and lunged forward, my claws flashing in the light as I intercepted the first bodyguard. His blade swung in an arc, but I stepped towards the blow, twisting under his swing in a blaze of speed. My claws sliced upward in a brutal motion, carving through muscle and sending blood everywhere. He fell without even a scream.

The second bodyguard, the one with the shimmering shock wand, was faster. He jabbed the weapon toward me, the air crackling with high-voltage energy. I deflected the strike with my claws, then brought my kick blade up in a brutal arc, driving it through his torso. He gurgled and dropped, his weapon cracking against the floor.

The two lieutenants pressed forward, their weapons raised. One was a heavyset man with arms like tree trunks, his scarred face twisted in a snarl. In his hands, he wielded a massive, spiked war hammer that looked as though it could smash through steel. The other was a wiry woman, her shaved head gleaming under the harsh lights. She held a pair of curved daggers, their edges glinting with a faint, poisonous sheen.

The heavyset man came at me first, his war hammer swinging down in a devastating arc. I sidestepped, the Nexus’s speed turning his brute force into a wasted effort as the hammer smashed into the floor, leaving a crater in its wake. Before he could recover, I brought my claws down in a diagonal slash, tips digging deep into his shoulder and torso. He roared in pain, staggering back, but I didn’t give him a chance to recover.

The grinding blade in the Nexus’s chest spun to life with a metallic shriek. I stepped forward, slamming into him. The blade tore through his sternum, bone briefly crackling as his roar reduced to a wet gurgle. He collapsed, his war hammer clattering to the floor.

The wiry woman darted in as he fell, her daggers flashing in quick, precise strikes aimed at my joints. She was fast, her movements almost a blur, but it was pointless. Her first strike hit armor, not even scratching the surface. For show more than out of necessity, I parried her next strike with a claw, managing to accidentally take a finger as I did so.

She screeched, dropping the dagger in her wounded hand but striking with the second. I booted her in the chest with my knee, sending her reeling back just enough for my claws to slash across her chest. Blood blossomed and I could feel the Nexus surge inside of me, my synchronization hitting new heights.

Death.

Feeding.

I suddenly and urgently needed to kill. My vision turned to a crimson, foamy haze, and her scrabbling, desperate movements along the floor drew me in.

Coughing blood, she reached for her belt, but I speared her through her gash wound, metal plunging out her back and lifting her off the ground. I lashed out with my other claws and took her legs off at the knees before whipping her across the room to slop and break against the wall.

Roaring, I turned my attention to the rest of the kneeling, praying and pleading gangsters. Vaguely in the back of my mind, I could hear Techlock yelling and commanding me to step down.

CD was there as well.

Wealth.

Status.

Elli!

I strained against the hypnotic pull of the frame, breaking free with a gasp that translated into a ghostly wail. My vision finally clearing, I could see all their eyes, wide, and locked onto mine. Terror was etched into every aspect of their bodies, and some even wept openly. I shuddered once, as the mech frame urged me to swipe their heads from their bodies, a guttural and unsaid voice telling me that a single, clean strike would end them all.

Techlock stepped past me, standing in-between us.

“Does anyone else have any doubts?” he said, raising his voice.

No one moved.

I let the Nexus’s head tilt slightly, the glow from its eyes casting shadows that danced across the blood-spattered floor.

“Good,” Techlock said. “Because what just happened? That’s what crossing me looks like. Now get back to your operations. You’ll hear from me soon.”

The lieutenants nodded mutely, their gazes flicking between Techlock and the carnage around them. One by one, they turned and filed out, their bodyguards following close behind.

Techlock turned to me, his mask obscuring any expression.

“Nice work, Al. You can stand down now, okay?”

I didn’t respond, my focus still on the bodies at my feet. I’d almost completely lost control, and I had no idea what that meant.