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THE SIEGE OF NEOTROY
Chapter 4: Don’t Look a Horse in the Mouth

Chapter 4: Don’t Look a Horse in the Mouth

Aklion’s fingers trembled as he stared at the injector in his hand. His thoughts were spiraling, slipping through his grasp like sand. The guilt, the confusion, the fucking chaos in his head—it was too much. He couldn’t keep it together anymore. His chest tightened, and his breathing came in ragged gasps.

He lifted the injector to his neck. One more dose. One more fucking hit. That’s all I need to clear this shit from my mind.

[Warning: INPAXX Concentration at 140% – Neural Overload Imminent]

Stats:

•Strength: 34/50

•Agility: 28/50

•Neural Resilience: 4/40

•Combat Efficiency: 27/60

•Stamina: Draining rapidly…

•Skill Progression: Locked

“Fuck it.” He jammed the injector into his neck, feeling the cool liquid shoot into his veins. For a brief second, the world became sharp again—too sharp. The edges of everything bled into each other, but it was better than the haze, better than the goddamn noise inside his head. The INPAXX made it all go quiet, if only for a moment.

[INPAXX Overdose Detected – Proceeding with Caution]

Aklion stumbled, his vision flickering in and out. The street around him warped and shifted, twisting into something unrecognizable. He clutched his head, gritting his teeth as the hallucinations slammed into him.

“Aklion.” SYNTHIA’s voice buzzed inside his mind, distant and cold. “What you’ve just done is not recommended. Your neural integrity is already compromised.”

“I had no fucking choice,” Aklion muttered, his words slurred. “Can’t think… can’t fucking breathe.”

[Neural Stability at Critical Levels]

His body screamed for rest, but he forced himself to stay upright. He had to. There was another mission. Always another goddamn mission. He stumbled forward, dragging his feet toward the asylum—the next target SYNTHIA had marked for him. The place looked abandoned from the outside, dark windows, crumbling brick, and silence. Just like the rest of the city, empty but not truly dead.

[New Objective: Eliminate All Suspects at the Asylum]

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SYNTHIA’s voice cut through the haze again. “Vectora may be among the patients, hidden. You are to eliminate all suspects. No exceptions.”

Aklion’s stomach twisted. Civilians. He knew what was coming. He’d done it before. He was trained for this. But the faces from his last mission flashed before him, the terrified eyes of the people he had gunned down without hesitation.

“They’re not suspects, SYNTHIA,” Aklion said, his voice hoarse. “They’re civilians.”

“All are suspects,” SYNTHIA replied without a shred of empathy. “Proceed, Commander.”

Stats:

•Strength: 30/50

•Agility: 24/50

•Neural Resilience: 3/40

•Combat Efficiency: 22/60

•Mental Stability: Critical…**

Aklion’s body trembled as he approached the entrance of the asylum. The halls inside were cold and sterile, the smell of antiseptic sharp in the air. As he walked further in, he could hear the faint sounds of patients—weak, sick, frail. There were no guards, no resistance, just the soft murmurs of those too broken to fight back.

[[Hey, need a break? You’re not alone. Even Aklion could use some support. Consider backing this chaotic ride on Patreon. It’s like INPAXX for your writer! Now, back to the mayhem.]]

He hated this. Every fiber of his being screamed to stop, but his body moved on autopilot. His training, the INPAXX, the orders—it all pushed him forward.

[Mission Objective: Eliminate All Suspects]

His hand tightened around the hilt of his blade. He hesitated for a moment, staring down at the first patient he found—a crippled man lying on a bed, barely able to move. The man’s eyes widened in terror as Aklion loomed over him.

“Please…” the man whimpered, his voice trembling with fear.

Aklion’s hand shook. The blade hovered above the man’s chest, but he couldn’t bring himself to strike. Not again. Not like this.

Stats:

•Neural Resilience: 2/40

•Combat Efficiency: 15/60

•Mental Instability: Severe

•Moral Conflict: Maxed Out

“Do it, Commander,” SYNTHIA ordered. “They are rebels in disguise. They would kill you if given the chance.”

Aklion clenched his teeth, sweat dripping down his forehead. His mind was spinning out of control, the INPAXX making everything worse, distorting reality until he couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t.

[Neural Overload Imminent – Combat Efficiency Drastically Reduced]

His hand trembled violently, the blade glinting under the dim lights. He stared down at the man, seeing his own reflection in the terrified eyes staring back at him. This isn’t right. This is…

[?] [?]

[$#&@$&$++++++]

SLAM.

[?] [?]

[$#&@$&$++++++]

A sudden rush of air. A heavy thud. Aklion’s blade fell from his grip, clattering to the ground as his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed, the weight of the overdose finally overwhelming his body. His vision blurred, the world fading in and out as darkness crept in at the edges.

Aklion was falling, falling deep into the abyss of his mind. He could see the battlefield again—Greek warriors and Trojan soldiers locked in eternal combat. The wooden horse stood tall in the distance, blood dripping from its sides, staining the earth below.

And above it all, the gods laughed. They looked down on him, their voices booming in his head, mocking him for his failures.

“Another pawn, falling apart. Another fool who thought he had control.”

The voices grew louder, deafening, as Aklion’s body continued to fall deeper into the darkness.

The last thing he heard was SYNTHIA’s cold, mechanical voice in his ear.

“Failure to complete the mission, Commander. Neural failure imminent.”

Everything went black.