Aklion’s eyes fluttered open to the same dull grey ceiling, the medical facility he had been in for what felt like days. The stench of antiseptic filled his nostrils, but what truly bothered him was the silence. His mind, once dominated by the steady hum of SYNTHIA’s ever-present directives and INPAXX’s emotional suppression, was calm and clear. Too clear, maybe. No voices, no glitches, no drug-induced numbness. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he was raw. And the world? Sharper than ever.

System Notification:

INPAXX Status: Offline

SYNTHIA AI: Disconnected

Mental Stability: Stable

Glitch Levels: 0%

Combat Readiness: Dormant

Status: Anti-Paxxing Mode - “You’re on your own, pal.”

His head was still pounding slightly from the recent chaos, but there was a new clarity—a heavy, uncomfortable clarity. He reached out, half expecting the comforting control of his combat HUD to flare to life, but nothing happened. No instant tactical analysis, no AI-generated strategy. Just silence.

“Raw dogging it, huh?” he muttered to himself. A phrase the rebels used—anti-paxxing—operating without the support of INPAXX or AIs. It was a rare state of being for Paxxers, and a dangerous one, too. Most couldn’t handle the flood of emotion or the raw terror of facing life with their full, unmitigated consciousness. But Aklion had surprised himself. He wasn’t just handling it—he was thriving. “Finally, no foggy drugged brain,” he whispered, stretching his arms, testing his limbs. The ache of his injuries was a dull throb in the back of his mind. At least that was something familiar.

Vectora entered the room quietly, watching him with the kind of look that always carried weight. A mix of suspicion and admiration. She’d been there when everything went down—the battle, the betrayal, the aftermath. Aklion had barely survived the insurrection led by some of the rebels who had never agreed with his stay in their base. But he was still here, alive, and now… calm. Too calm, even for her taste.

“You’re awake,” she said, her voice carrying a slight edge of disbelief. “After everything.”

Aklion shifted in the bed, running a hand through his hair. “Barely. But I’m still kicking.”

Vectora glanced at the door, her face a little paler than usual. “We need to talk.”

Aklion raised a brow. “I figured. It’s been quiet for a bit too long. Let me guess, more rebels who want me dead?”

She didn’t smile, didn’t laugh. “Yes. And it’s not just a few this time.”

He sighed, rolling his neck until it cracked. “Of course it’s not.”

Vectora moved closer, her tone low, more serious than before. “They think you’ve been spying. That you stole information from our database.”

Aklion didn’t flinch, didn’t deny it. “I did.”

She blinked, thrown off by the nonchalant response. “You did what?”

“I took the data,” he said, shrugging. “Might be useful later, for me, not for them. Screw the conglomerate.”

“For fuck’s sake, Aklion!” Vectora snapped, the usual calm she carried slipping. “You took data? They were right? Do you know what this means?”

“I do. It means I can’t stay here,” he said, his tone still steady. “Not anymore.”

There was a long pause between them, the kind where words didn’t need to be spoken to be understood. She clenched her fists, frustration clear in her posture. “You… you could have told me.”

“I could have,” he admitted. “But let’s be real, Vectora. What was the endgame here? You saved my life, and now half your people want me dead. If I didn’t take it, they’d still come for me.”

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She let out a frustrated breath, pacing the small space. “And now more people are going to die, Aklion. Because of you.”

Aklion leaned back against the headboard, his muscles aching. “People were always going to die. You know that as well as I do.”

She stared at him, her expression hardening. “This is different.”

“Is it?” he asked. “We’re all killers, Vectora. Rebels, Conglomerate, Paxxers, anti-Paxxers—what’s the difference at this point? We’re just playing for different teams.”

Her silence answered him more than words ever could. It was the kind of silence that held truth, the kind neither of them wanted to face.

System Notification:

XP Lost: -200 for “Nihilistic Philosophy on Human Nature”

Suddenly, a loud clamor erupted from the hallway beyond. Shouts, gunfire. Vectora’s hand flew to the hilt of her knife, her face grim as she turned towards the door.

“They’re coming.”

Aklion rose from the bed, still sore, but his mind sharper than ever. Without INPAXX dulling his senses, he felt alive—every nerve ending, every thought crackling with clarity.

He moved toward the door, but Vectora placed a hand on his chest. “No, let me handle it.”

He gave her a long, hard look. “They’re coming to kill me, Vectora. I’m not sitting this one out.”

She hesitated for a moment, then stepped aside. The clamor was growing louder, more frantic. Rebel voices, angry, shouting, calling for blood—his blood.

Aklion’s body moved instinctively, though without the smoothness of his usual enhanced reflexes. He was still quick, still deadly, but without the overwhelming support of the INPAXX, it felt more… human.

The door burst open, and a group of rebels stormed in, weapons drawn. Their faces were twisted with fury, their eyes burning with a desire for vengeance. Aklion stood in the center of the room, unarmed, waiting.

“You son of a bitch!” one of them yelled, pointing a rifle at his chest. “You’re dead!”

Vectora stepped forward, her voice cutting through the chaos. “Stand down, all of you!”

“No!” Revik, the leader of the insurrection, shouted. His face was red, veins bulging in his neck. “He’s a spy! He took our data! He’s going to sell us out to the Conglomerate!”

Aklion didn’t move, didn’t deny it. He simply watched them, waiting for the inevitable.

“I did take the data,” he said calmly, his voice steady, unblinking. “But if you think I’m going to sell you out, you don’t know me at all.”

Revik’s face twisted in rage, his finger tightening on the trigger. “I don’t care what you do with it. You killed my people, and now you’re going to pay.”

Before Revik could pull the trigger, Vectora stepped between them, her knife drawn. “You’re not killing him.”

The tension in the room was palpable, the kind of tension that could snap at any moment. Revik’s men shifted nervously, unsure of what to do next.

“We don’t take orders from you anymore, Vectora,” Revik spat. “You’ve gone soft. Protecting this Conglomerate dog, letting him steal from us… you’ve lost your mind.”

Vectora’s grip on her knife tightened. “This isn’t how we do things, Revik.”

Revik sneered, stepping closer. “It is now.”

The first shot rang out, and all hell broke loose.

Aklion moved faster than he thought possible, diving to the side as bullets sprayed across the room. He grabbed the first weapon he could find—a discarded pistol—and returned fire. Vectora was already in the fray, her knife a blur as she cut through the first rebel that got too close.

The room erupted into chaos, the sound of gunfire and shouting filling the air. Aklion moved on instinct, taking down rebels with precision shots, his mind calculating every angle, every trajectory. He was outnumbered, but he’d been outnumbered before. This was nothing new.

Combat Stats Update:

HP: 62%

Adrenaline Surge: Activated

Reaction Time: Increased by 20%

Combat Effectiveness: 84%

The rebels fell one by one, but they kept coming. Aklion’s body moved like a machine, efficient, deadly, but without the usual numbness. Every shot, every kill, felt real—too real. He could feel the weight of each life he took, the blood on his hands.

And it didn’t sit well with him.

More rebels stormed into the room, their faces twisted with rage. Aklion fired off a few more shots, dropping two of them before his pistol clicked empty. He tossed it aside, grabbing a fallen rifle just in time to block a knife strike from a rebel who had gotten too close.

The fight was brutal, bloody. Aklion’s body moved like a predator, but his mind was racing. This wasn’t just about survival anymore. He was killing people who, not too long ago, were fighting for the same cause.

Revik came at him with a roar, swinging a heavy baton toward his head. Aklion ducked, rolling to the side and firing off a shot that grazed Revik’s arm. The man howled in pain but kept coming, swinging wildly.

“I’ll kill you, you bastard!” Revik screamed, charging again.

Aklion sidestepped the attack, driving the butt of his rifle into Revik’s gut, knocking the wind out of him. He followed up with a quick, brutal strike to the back of the man’s head, sending him sprawling to the ground.

The room was silent again, save for the heavy breathing of the survivors. Aklion stood in the middle, his chest heaving, blood splattered across his face.

Vectora wiped her knife clean, her face grim. “This can’t go on. All you had to do was repent and join us. But you couldn’t do that, could you?”

Aklion nodded, his voice hollow. “Yeah, well, I know. You’re right.”

He looked around at the bodies, the rebels he had just killed. His enemies? His allies? It didn’t matter anymore. They were all just bodies now.

“We can’t stay here,” Vectora said quietly. “Not after this.”

Aklion glanced at her, his mind already working through the next steps. “I can’t stay here,” he corrected her. “You might still have a chance with them, but me? I’m done.”

She didn’t argue. She knew he was right.