So Predictable

Nameless hit the cement factory floor, a sickening crunch echoed through the hollow building. He roared, writhing in pain on the ground, clutching his shattered right leg. As he tried to slow his breathing and focus his blurred vision, a slow clap hit his ears. He heard a vicious firefight raging overhead, along with familiar voices shouting indistinctly.

As his eyes readjusted to the darkness and pain, he took in the sight before him. Directly across from him, a dozen feet away, Florence sat in a plastic chair. She was laughing manically as she slowly clapped. Besides her stood at least twenty vectors, all staring at him with their devilish eyes.

“I told you! Didn’t I tell you tin men that was the exact spot he was gonna land?” Florence giggled, wiping a tear from her eye with one hand as she tapped a vector leader with the other.

“Permission to execute, ma’am?” The Vector leader asked in a raspy, metallic voice.

“Urgh!” Florence groaned, rolling her eyes, “You’re no fun!”

She got up and hurled the plastic chair at Nameless. It landed beside him as he leveled the beowulf directly at her triumphant face, safety off, finger on the trigger.

“Poor old eight, zero, one, nine, seven, eight,” Florence grinned nastily as she slowly crept toward him. “Sooooooo predictable.”

“Fuck you, too, oh nine,” Nameless spat dizzily.

“Mmmmmm, you wish, buddy,” She smiled crookedly.

She tilted her head, gazing down at him with an upturned chin. Florence came off as a deadly vixen. Her prominent beautiful features showing, even with the deep scars and stark, bold red warpaint-like makeup that shaped her face like a primal predator. She was garbed in full tactical gear, an old Russian pattern battle rifle, with a full battle belt chocked full of explosives and other fun goodies. Her bald head, which was crisscrossed with a mohawk like blood red ink tattoo down to her spine, complimented her beautiful features.

“Oh, how I missed toying with you,” She smiled. “I’m gonna miss our little spats.”

“Then let’s make the last one the best one,” Nameless growled through the rifle sights.

Florence cackled. She pivoted around and outstretched her arms to her vectors.

“See!” she yelled. “That! That passion, that drive, why can’t you stupid science projects use that!”

“We are wasting time, ma’am,” the vector leader replied robotically.

“Ugh. Why couldn’t they have lodged some emotion in those big, empty metal heads of yours? I liked you better before I volunteered you for the program,” Florence sighed as she pivoted back around, swinging her arms.

She held her arms behind her back like a child and dipped her chin as she looked at Nameless.

“Naaaaaaaaaaaameless. Such a stupid name, for such a stupid boy.”

“Says the dumbass girl who named herself after a famous prostitute.”

Florence roared with laughter, clutching her stomach. “You’re not funny, by the way,” Florence cackled, finishing her laugh. “I’m just so sick of being around these emotionless fucks; anything is funny these days.”

She’s insane. What happened to the sweet little girl who loved to fly? The one who was always the first to beg for stories around the campfire?

“She died,” Florence shrugged innocently.

“What?” Nameless asked, startled, almost letting his guard down.

“The sweet, little girl, who loved to fly,” Florence pouted. “She’s died on the surgery table.”

Nameless was aghast. She can read his mind.

“It’s not telepathy, not the way they describe it in the stories,” Florence said nonchalantly. “I can basically see the electric currents in that smooth little brain of yours. It's more like a very calculated guess than a reading.” Florence began to circle Nameless very slowly. “What? You really thought I’d let them give my boys all the good toys? Please. They don’t follow me cuz of my looks, hun. These metal cockroaches follow me because I’m better than all of them combined.”

She pivoted on her heels and continued to circle Nameless while walking backward.

“Ain’t that right, you stupid good for nothing piles of scrap?” she yelled.

Nameless could have sworn he saw some of the vectors flinch in the peripherals of his vision. Vectors. Flinching. What on Mars did they do to her?

“Everything, and nothing, hun. The toys and upgrades are fun, but I’m still the same bitch you let Jockus betray.”

“I wasn’t there for that,” Nameless said stubbornly. As Florence continued to circle, Nameless painfully scooted his body so that he could still aim at her. Vectors be damned; she needed his full attention.

“Mmmmm, yes. The Nameless Bounty Hunter! Oooooooo,” Florence said while wiggling her fingers at him. “Seriously, that’s the best nickname you could have come up with?”

“How ‘bout psycho corporate shill killer?” Nameless groaned.

Florence halted, put a finger to her chin, and sarcastically acted like she was pondering. “Mhm. Not as catchy. She cocked her head, looking at him vertically. “Ya know, this is your fault. Had you not almost drowned me in shit water, I never would have agreed to the upgrades.”

“None of this would have happened if you had stayed loyal to your friends.”

“Oh please, as if staying in that camp would have ever gotten me beyond being your little side kick. Besides, if I hadn’t ambushed you, Mr. Eyes would have the vial now. And we’d both be useless slabs of meat floating from job to job.”

“Who’s Mr. Eyes?”

Florence laughed.

“Only the supreme ruler of Mars, you fucking idiot. Gods, you really do live under a rock,” She paused, studying him. “Dontcha want a taste?” she asked innocently, a lopsided grin hanging from both ears.

“No amount of money would make me betray my friends,” Nameless said as defiantly as he could.

Florence again burst into tearful laughter.

“Oh, my gods. Please do not ever say something as cheesy as that in my presence ever again,” She smiled crookedly. “No dumb, dumb. I mean the vial.”

“The fuck?”

“Vial.”

“No, I mean, fuck, no. Holy gods, Florence, they gave you some of this shit?”

“Mhm. Well, the knock-off corporate version of it anyway. Once I’m finished pulling you apart like an animal carcass, I’m taking that vial. We’re gonna make so, so, so much of that stuff. And then I’ll rule Mars!”

“You and I both know how much damage that will cause!”

“Duh. Why do you think I want it so bad?”

“No, the fleet!”

“Yeah,” she said with an eye roll.

“You’re gonna cause another war, Florence.”

“Mhm. That’s the idea. When Mars is mine, and those ships are shot down, I’m going to burn Earth just like they burned Mars. Let them writhe in the radioactive filth. Let them eat each other. It's their turn to rape and slaughter their family and friends for breadcrumbs. Just. Like. Us.”

“And what do your corporate overlords think of that?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Fuck them. Mr. Peirceson and Mr. Eyes have, well had, such simple, short-term visions. Restoring the mines, return on investments, alliance with Earth, and all her little colonies out there in our great big solar system. There is an army of literal gods at their disposal, and they just want to play nice. Sooooooooo boring!”

“So Mr. Eyes is your boss?”

Florence nodded. “Somebody paid for all this, hun, and it wasn’t me. Get this, right? Those idiots actually thought that they could rebuild me, pump me full of God juice, and I was going to be their loyal little lap dog. Honestly, how they ever managed to rule Mars for this long is beyond me. I literally murdered Mr. Eye’s right-hand man, and he’s none the wiser. Oh well.”

“That’s what they get for trusting you,” Nameless said harshly. “Once a traitor, always a traitor.”

She smiled, but it was cold. She tilted her head a few degrees, a red glint her eyes. “Whatcha mean by that? I can see the flow going within that head, but I want you to tell me.”

“You’re no better than Mama Jockus,” Nameless spat.

Florence straightened her body like a metal rod. In a furious blur of motion, she closed the distance to Nameless, grabbed him by the throat, and lifted him off the ground. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t. She was the shortest girl in camp; how did she get taller than him?

“Don’t,” as each word let loose, her grip got tighter and tighter. “Ever. Compare. Me. To. Her.”

Nameless ’s feet kicked and squirmed. As his vision went in and out, and he choked, he could see her rage.

“You’re—” He gasped. “The same.”

Florence shrieked and flung Nameless into her vectors, so hard they were knocked over. The vectors shrilled and extended their claws, about to shred the young bounty hunter.

“Touch him, and I will use your corpses as furniture!” Florence shouted as she stomped over to him. The vectors immediately scattered like scared insects, fleeing into the shadows as Florence barreled down unto Nameless. She ripped the Beowulf from his grip, breaking a finger or two, and flung it away. As the Beowulf clattered onto the ground, she grabbed his broken leg.

Nameless cursed and groaned as she twisted the bone back into place, hit the leg, then injected one of her own chems into him. The pain was nearly indescribable. It felt as if every single vein, hair follicle, blood cell, the very DNA of his body had been lit on fire. He screamed, writhing in pain as the corporate dose took effect. Eventually, the pain subsided, and nothing hurt. Nothing. And his senses, it felt as if on a scale from one to ten, his sight, hearing, taste, speed, energy had all been cranked up to fifty.

Florence retreated, and Nameless slowly got to his feet, inspecting his now completely healed body. “What the—”

“What part of corporate knockoff God Juice didn’t you get?” Florence snarled as she paced back and forth like a hungry, rabid wolf.

“I’m sorry for what she did to you. But I wasn’t there!” Nameless shouted.

“Of course, you weren’t!” Florence shouted. “Always out, always getting the bad guys, getting Jockus paid!”

“I was doing my fucking job!”

“You left us! You left me, you left the girls alone with all those disgusting, nasty men! I’ve hated you since the day you gave yourself that stupid nickname!”

“I had no choice!”

“Oooooooh yeah! Sure! I bet you liked leaving us. Left us to the mercy of that miserable old crow and whatever she felt like doing to us that day!”

Nameless felt sick. “Florence, I am so sorry for leaving. I had no idea.”

“Too late! Too late now, now, hoooooooooo, now it’s time for revenge. Now, I get to make them cry themselves to sleep; I get to make them hurt! All of them!”

Florence ripped off her rifle and kit and flung it to the side.

“They’re dead now, Florence!” Nameless said.

“Good! But there are so many more that need to die! I’ve just begun showing these miserable scabs what suffering truly is!”

As Florence shouted, Nameless noticed that her veins began to faintly glow. Her eyes twitched, her face contouring in pain. She groaned, pulled out another dose, and self-injected into her bare tattooed arm. She moaned gently, kicking her head back as the compound reinforced her body like it had with Nameless. So, she wasn’t perfect. She needed a supply, or her body would erode.

“They’re using you, Florence. They fed you that shit on purpose; that’s how they control you. Mr. Eyes probably used you like a mad dog to eliminate his side kick, typical house cleaning,” Nameless said slowly with his hands up.

Florence giggled.

“Wanna know why I gave you a taste?”

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“Please, Florence.”

“You get five hours! Five hours of heightened senses, five hours of regeneration. That’s five fucking hours of me breaking every single bone in your body, waiting for it to heal, then doing it over again, and again, and again!”

“Like they did with you.”

“Shut up!”

“It’s not too late! Help us!” Nameless shouted.

Florence shrieked, hunched over, gripping her head as the synthetic layer underneath her pupils sparked and coursed. “Liar!” she screamed. “I’ll going to make you pay!”

Nameless sighed. He balled his fists. He could feel the vial in his chest pocket. “Bring it,” he snarled.

Florence dropped her hands, letting her arms dangle in the air as she hunched over, standing like a broken doll. Her eyes were mere pools of blood-red, no pupils. Her teeth slowly extended into fangs as she smiled. This wasn’t Florence. This was something worse than a vector. An abomination, a walking, talking meat suite housing horrors created in a lab bunker deep under the big city.

“Let’s dance, Nameless,” she said in a deep, guttural, mechanical voice.

Florence arched her back unnaturally and sprinted on all fours like an animal, barreling toward Nameless at impossible speed as she shrieked like a demon. Nameless roared and flew as hard as he could toward her.

The two collided in the center of the empty factory. Florence ripped and tore at Nameless, striking like a feral beast. Nameless quickly lost ground as chunks of himself went flying in every direction. But just as she said, as soon as Florence backed off, Nameless could feel his body rebuilding what was lost.

“This is what a god feels like!” Florence screeched as she came back in for a second volley.

Nameless charged again, this time following her feet. There was a pattern here. She fought the same way she walked around as she gloated earlier. It wasn’t random; it was asymmetrical footwork. The same misdirection Jockus had taught them when they were children.

Nameless predicted her next foothold and drew his thermal knife. The blade sprung to life in a millisecond, vibrating with molten heat midair. It contacted Florence’s thigh and nearly cut the entire leg off. She tripped and screamed as she fell on her face, unbalanced. On the ground, she kicked his legs out, sending him tumbling. Nameless ’s brain fired off commands at Mach velocity on the way down. Nameless could see, smell, hear every tiny detail. As he fell to the ground, his clenched fist landed squarely in the center of her face.

With a sickening crunch, her nose shattered, and she scrambled away in pain, roaring as he scrambled back in the opposite direction. A vague thought came into his head. He didn’t dare expand on it, so she could read his next move. Instead, he slowly began inching away from her. Toward the Beowulf.

Florence lay on the ground, her gaping, severed thigh building bridges of synthetic flesh, forming webs of new skin, bone, and muscle. Nameless was also healing, his body on fire as he heaved and gasped for air, his mind spinning, not used to this much neurological activity. It would have been miraculous had it not been happening to a hapless death machine.

“This was your idea,” Nameless laughed painfully as he stood up.

“Don’t you fucking mock me!” Florence screamed. “You’re nothing. An insect, a flake of nothing that I’m going to rip apart! No mortal is going to stop me!”

“Listen to yourself!” Nameless roared.

“Fucking die!”

The two fully healed again and charged each other. She tore at him, deeply wounding him again. He landed a few hits that bloodied and battered her. Again, she pushed him further back into the factory, again they separated. This was a war of attrition, and she was winning the battle. Time to win the war.

Nameless pulled his destroyed body armor off, the shredded plates and carrier useless at this point. He cracked his neck and smiled.

“What are you smiling for, worm?” Florence growled.

“Just like old times,” Nameless said, spitting blood on the floor. She raised an eyebrow and realized what he meant. Without hesitation, she frantically charged at full speed. This time, instead of engaging her a third time, he pivoted and sprinted for Beowulf. The hairs on his neck stood up, and adrenaline pumped through him; he could feel how close she was.

He dove for Beowulf, his outstretched fingers barely tucking the buttstock of the Beowulf as Florence pounced on top of him, scourging his back. Having turned his back into mincemeat, she flipped him over to finish the job. As he lay on the ground, looking up at the grizzly sight that was Florence about to end him, he was grateful. At least the vagabonds got away. He knew Julia would take care of them.

Just as Florence reached over her head, about to swipe down on him, a bright white projectile screeched down into the factory. Had Nameless not been dosed up, he never would have had time to react. But with the compound and five men’s worth of adrenaline flowing through him, he could see every detail of the slicer barreling down behind Florence.

Nameless gathered every ounce of energy left inside of his body and pounced onto Florence, gripping as tightly as he could, shielding his body with hers. Before she could react, the slicer exploded. Nameless could see the thousands of tiny bits of molten metal flying in slow motion through the air. The slice fragments nearly wiped out the vectors, tore through Florence, decimating her body, then going through Nameless. The factory became illuminated by the explosion like it was daytime.

In real-time, he could feel every puncture, every cut, every slice as the two fell to the ground. Neither opponent looked human anymore, more like gurgling piles of red and flesh. They both collapsed on the floor, heaving piles of red and black. A few seconds passed, Nameless’s right bicep reconnected, and before the skin had grown back, he grabbed the thermal knife and plunged it into Florence’s chest cavity.

She gurgled and belched blood as she punched him in the chest, shattering his rib cage and sending him crumpled away from her. He was too hurt and exhausted to even scream or shout. Inside he just grunted and crawled onto the beowulf. As he grabbed the rifle, he looked up. The cargo bay doors of the factory had opened, and there they were. All the sadistic Vagabonds and the professor.

Behind them stood an army of former slaves, spiders, and the guilds. Each firing frantically and lobbing every piece of explosive ammunition they had at Florence and the vectors. Nameless rolled unto his raw back, spread his legs, switched the Beowulf to automatic, and emptied the magazine directly into Florence.

The primal predator shrieked, engulfed in flame as she fled. He could now feel hands picking him up. He was floating again. As his vision blacked out, the last thing he saw was Florence and the hobbled vectors routing into the guts of the factory.

His vision came back, and he screamed. The professor was above him on the left, sticking as many chems into his limbs as possible. Sammy was on the right, applying tourniquets, frantically trying to stem the massive blood loss. Carla and Hera were by his feet, emptying magazine after magazine at the enemy reinforcements trying to help their boss flee the factory. Julia stood above them all, sobbing as Aj held her, his eyes wide and his lips pierced together.

There were more people now. People in hoods, was that Guild Master Ardo? It looked like him, frantically setting up the litter team. Anna was with him, staring at Nameless, her hand over her mouth, her good eye petrified. Guess he wasn’t a pretty sight at the moment.

Six grown spiders came over with a litter. They placed it beside Nameless. All the surrounding people were shouting and giving commands to each other, but Nameless couldn’t hear them. He felt funny. There was no pain now. Why was Julia screaming at Ardo? That wasn’t very nice of her.

The spiders all knelt, each grabbing a limb or getting a firm handhold under his body. They seemed to count down; now he was floating. No. He was drifting, moving to the left? Directions were complex now. Nothing really had any shape, just swirls of colors and blank ambient noise. The only thing he could distinctly make out was the crowd around him.

A sharp pain erupted in his chest, and his lungs began expanding and contracting at twice the speed they usually did. His heart felt like it was going to explode, and he sat bolt right up in the litter; an adrenaline syringe still lodged in his chest.

He screamed.

“Lay down, you stupid bastard!” Julia shrieked, forcing him back down.

“Careful!” Sammy yelled.

“I’m sorry, oh my goddess, I am so sorry,” Julia sobbed, retreating with her hands crimson red.

“He’s in shock; he needs a blood transfusion,” the professor declared.

“He needs a everything,” Hera said, her eyes wide.

“I’m not putting my brother’s life in the hands of an Earther!” Aj roared.

“I am the closest thing to a doctor that you are going to get here!” the professor yelled back over Nameless.

“Shut the fuck up and get me out of here,” Nameless gurgled.

“Holy shit!” Sammy gasped.

“Oh, gods, Nameless? Nameless! Nameless, can you hear me?” Julia sobbed, clinging to Sammy’s shoulder.

“He needs treatment now, or he dies!” the professor beseeched.

“He dies; you’re next,” Aj snarled.

The professor held up his hands, defeated. “I’m starting to think death threats are a sign of affection on this planet. Help me get him out of here. Master Ardo, where is the nearest aide station?”

“None too close, I’m afraid; how much time does he have?” Ardo asked.

“U-u-u-use our-our-our-” Spider tried to say, but he was so distressed the words couldn’t leave his tiny mouth.

“Where? Where is it, captain?” Julia asked desperately.

“We know the way,” one of the grown spiders said.

“Please,” Julia begged.

Captain Spider nodded and motioned for them to follow him. The crowd began protecting Nameless as they evacuated. Outside the factory, the city was a broken, burning husk. Firefights roared everywhere; bodies belonging to both sides littered the streets.

Despite the tunnels, cave wall entrances, gates, and the railyard, there was barely any room for all the smoke to ventilate. As a result, the entire city was engulfed in a bright red, ambient mixture of fog, smoke, gun powder residue, and debris. If hell was absolute, this had to be what it looked and sounded like. The smell was stomach-turning, to say the least.

Out of nowhere, the litter collapsed, and Nameless hit the ground hard as one of the spiders fell, killed by a sniper.

“Protect the Nameless One!” someone in the crowd screamed.

There was no pain, but Nameless could hear Sammy talking to him.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay, please, you are okay!”

As they frantically worked to get him back up, the people formed a human wall to shield Nameless. Bullets snapped and cracked overhead as snipers and enemies shot the large group. It was doubtful they knew who the crowd was protecting, but they knew Florence wanted whoever lay on the stretcher dead.

The crowd moved again, not measuring distance in a city block but in people dropped by the shooters. Each corner, each street crossing became a crucible of attrition as both sides did their utmost to either protect the litter team or destroy it.

Finally, they reached their destination. The spider scouts led the alleyway and pried open the sewer manhole. They disappeared momentarily, then the alleyway caved in, revealing a concealed trap door opening wide, with steps leading deep underground. As the litter team began the descent, the apartments across the street collapsed, rock from the collapsed cavern ceiling crushing the building, the resistance fighters inside snuffed out in an instance.

“Mortars!” someone yelled.

“Who the fuck uses mortars in a fucking cavern?” Aj yelled.

“Get him down there, now!” Guild Master Ardo commanded.

The guild members stayed up top as the spiders and vagabonds went down.

“What are you doing?” Julia wailed up to them.

“Making his sacrifice count,” Ardo said solemnly. “Go!”

“Don’t talk like that,” she responded tearfully.

“Go! Seal the door!”

As the metal doors began to grind closer together, the streets became a bloodbath as a tsunami wave of enemies charged the alley door. Both sides smashed into each other, becoming a swirling ocean of bodies and bodily fluids as hand-to-hand combat broke out.

Vectors covered in swarming spiders, guards stabbed to death by hooded guild daggers, rebel slaves stabbed and clubbed to death by the security forces. People pushed their rifles into the guts of their enemy, inches from their face, and pulled the trigger. Brutal, pure chaos.

The doors ground shut, and one of the spiders struck an arc and began welding the doors locked from the inside. As the team rushed deeper into the underground, spiders would break off from the group. They started taping grenades to the wall alcoves, running tripwires along with the steps. Others set up nail bombs, fishhooks hanging from the ceiling at eye level, spikes, broken glass, anything and everything. This was their domain. They knew every corner, ventilation shaft, sewer tunnel, and alcove. The enemy was going to pay dearly per inch taken.

The team continued down deep into the undercity. As they went, Nameless could see through the gaps of people, communities he had seen before in the sewer. Thousands of women and children clutched one another in the dark as dust and debris drifted down from the shaking ceiling. Dozens of spiders, young and old, significant, and small, frantically zipped up and down the tunnel system carrying everything from ammunition to medical supplies to destinations all over the city.

“Stay with us, pal!” Aj yelled down to Nameless, rubbing his sternum.

“I need a functional area; someone tell me his blood type; I need three liters of said type. Captain spider, I need several of each type of surgical instrument you have down here and alcohol for sterilization,” the professor said.

Spider nodded. “Y-y-you heard h-him!” the little captain ordered.

The spider scouts began zig-zagging between their rushing comrades, furiously moving to get what they needed.

“In here!” a grown woman spider ordered.

“Are you a nurse?” Professor Zion asked as the litter team moved Nameless into a separate L-shaped hallway that ended in the med bay.

“I am one of the forge masters’ assistants, in your eyes, yes,” she said firmly.

“Is this forge master a doctor?” the professor asked.

“He makes us,” she said simply.

“Dear Christ, fine very well, will he assist?”

The team passed the elbow of the L-shaped hallway, leading to two dividing metal doors with the Spider symbol spray painted on both sides. Six hands holding a wine glass.

“If he can be saved, the forge master will do so,” she spoke.

“What?” Julia gasped frantically.

“The Nameless one is in his namesake’s hands now,” the forge apprentice said.

The metal double doors of the Spider Forge was deeply carved on either side with the Spider symbol: a wine glass held by six hands. The team came to the double doors, which swept wide open. The spiders holding the litter stood like statues, their feet rooted to the floor. The silence was deafening as the soft sound of approaching footsteps aided by a cane slowly became louder.

No one spoke a word. A small, feeble-looking old man crept to the side of Nameless. He had only two metal arms in addition to his biological ones. Aside from the two skinny metal arms, there was zero mechanical modification to the old man.

The forge master leaned over Nameless and studied him. He formed a holy symbol with his human fingers as his metal arms divided, forming dozens of fragile-looking smaller titanium limbs that extended themselves a complete man’s length. Everyone aside from the litter team backed away as the forge master filled the air with whirring, buzzing, spindly, writhing switch-like arms that checked every wound on Nameless’s body.

The room swirled, it felt like every limb was asleep. Pain flowed through Nameless’s body, and he fought the urge to fall asleep. He knew he had to stay awake, needed to resist slumber. But it was so warm, everyone’s voices were muffled. For the first time in a very long time, he was terrified.

The forge master retracted the fantastic mechanism, unlocked his fingers, sighed, and pulled his glasses off his wrinkled face, his Earth Asian features showing only slight signs of significant age, polishing them with his simple grey robe.

“He will live.”

The vagabonds sighed with relief.

“But,” the forge master continued as he put the glasses back on, “the flesh has been tainted by the dark mimic’s blood. It must be scourged else risk infection or rot.”

“What does that mean?” Julia asked softly.

“Thirty to fifty percent amputation. I will not know for certain until I see what internal damage there is. You also must have your flesh scourged from the dark ones’ taint. You will lose far more than that arm if not so,” he said matter-of-factly.

Nameless could only barely hear them, it sounded like a conversation in another room. But he heard Julia. He wanted to get up and have her go in first. She was more important than him.

“Wait, what?” Aj and Hera exclaimed simultaneously.

“Julia?” Sammy asked, shocked.

“Worry about that later; amputate what, sir?” Julia asked hastily.

The forge master leaned over Nameless.

“Young man,” he spoke, “I am going to ask you my questions; nod yes or no, please. I can save your life, but you will lose much. At this point, I cannot firmly say what you will lose, but it is significant. It is your choice to undergo this surgery. Nod yes if you wish to proceed, do not nod if your answer is no, please.”

“Is this really necessary?” the professor asked. “I’m perfectly capable of performing surgery.”

“You may save his flesh, but you do not possess the knowledge to mechanically augment,” the assistant said firmly. Professor Zion relented and nodded.

“I do not operate on unwilling subjects. Those days are done, now that this young one has seen to the destruction of the clans. He has earned his choice,” the forge master said firmly. He looked back down as Nameless nodded softly.

“Very well. Young man, do you wish for me to mechanically augment your biological losses?”

The ceiling shook from an explosion, the metal lights rattling as dust fell from above. The faint noise of war softly wafted from the ventilation ducts. Again, Nameless nodded.

“Metal cannot replace what the gods have granted you, but it may still be a suitable compromise. I give you my word as Oasis Spider Forge Master, as my father was before his father, and his father’s father, that my people shall repay your sacrifice with the finest assets we have available. Serene, please guide these followers inside.”

“Yes, master,” the assistant nodded and guided the litter team into the med bay.

The vagabonds attempted to follow, but the forge master held up his human hands.

“I am afraid you may not enter the sacred ground, my children. The city is in great distress; perhaps your efforts are better suited elsewhere, at least until we are finished.”

Julia began to speak, but captain spider cut her off. “T-t-thank you, F-father.”

“Father?” Aj asked, startled.

“Well, that makes sense,” Hera relented.

“Yeah, and why’s that?” Julia defended bitterly.

“He’s the best spider,” Hera said firmly. She looked around at the other spiders. “No offense.”

The forge master shook his head gently.

“It brings me joy that my son has aided in this holy quest. I will see you all when this is done.”

“F-f-f-father,” Spider piped up.

“Yes?”

Spider looked at Julia. The forge master contemplated for a moment, then nodded.

“My son is well trained in forging; would you like him to address your wound, young lady? While we attend to Nameless?”

Julia looked at Spider. “I’d be honored,” she said softly.

“Very well. We shall fetch you when it is done, children. Now, if you please, I must go attend to the young knight inside.”