An immense emptiness consumed Juzo’s mind, so fast that he didn’t have time to react; it was as if someone turned off every light in the city at the same time, leaving everything in complete darkness; an intrusive presence in his brain that plunged him into a mental lagoon, making him even forget his name for a few seconds.
He became disoriented, opened his hands and the Photias dissolved. The wing thrust had managed to get him out of that leafy roof and into the heights a little more than he would have expected. However, he had already lost his trajectory.
The mercenary with mustaches activated his wings and went after him. Showing that he didn’t need the thruster weapons to attack, he raised his left hand, contracted his fingers, created a ball of energy, a Photia equal to Juzo’s, and fired it.
Juzo’s jetpack exploded into a hundred silver sparks that sprayed across the park, along with scraps of uniform and a spurt of blood.
Adam recognized Juzo’s groan and regained some control over himself. The soles of his sneakers stopped on the grass. He turned and watched as Juzo fell from above, knocked down like a bird that had just been hit by a stone. The only person who could have protected him had fallen, and he was partially responsible for it.
Juzo tried to get back up, but he barely managed to get to his knees. He had blood on his face from the fall and blood on his nose from something, or someone, that remained unseen in his mind. The darkness that had blindfolded his eyes slipped away, and despite the urgency of now focusing on Broga and his mercenaries, overcoming the pain, he delved into his memories for an explanation of what had just occurred. At what point had he come into contact with the Tau radiation? There was a hole in his memory, a knowledge that eluded him.
He wanted to stand up, but one of his hands, instead of leaning on the ground to push him, went to his jacket pocket and took what he kept there. Then he understood. He had fallen into a trap and had taken his brother with him.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Adam saw a convalescent Juzo with a bloody face, and despair suffocated him. The hum of the mercenaries’ thrusters cut into his ears. He didn’t need to look up to know that those bastards were above him. They laughed; they made fun of him. Fury boiled within him and, driven by a courage he had not shown before—or a total lack of common sense caused by adrenaline—ran to help his brother. What would he do against two assassins and an android? Nothing but screaming. But he couldn’t leave Juzo alone either.
Two laser shots hurled dirt and destroyed chunks of concrete from the walking paths at him; until a third explosion knocked him back. Adam fell onto his back and hit the nape of his neck on the ground; small debris stuck into his bare back. Clouds of dirt and dust rained down on him. His burst of courage ended there.
His senses went dark for a second.
With a piercing ringing in his ears, he wiped the dirt from his eyes and stepped through the mirages of dizziness, finding the mercenaries circling Juzo like hungry vultures, the android walking toward him. Yes, Broga was coming for him.
The end was near.
The lights of the park licked the metal baldness of the android, shiny as silver, licked those arms full of circuits and silicone muscles, and those steel legs that peeked out through the tatters of his pants every time he took a step. His clothing had not only tears but also traces of burns, as if the fire had embraced him. What had been the path of the A60 before arriving here?
His one big eye pulsed red again. Adam saw it up close; that shape, that kind of iris in the center, that light that was born from an artificial pupil and expanded. It was as if that eye had a life of its own.
The android’s hands opened like the petals of a cybernetic flower. From the left hand, he discovered a long needle, a scalpel, and three surgical tweezers of various thicknesses and sizes; and from the right one, again, that long barrel which he pointed Adam in the face with—warning him that one wrong move could cost him his head—as his fingers reached out and charged with energy.
Adam took one last look at Juzo, who stood away, wounded, and regretted not spending more time with him. He would have liked to get to know him better, to see his face more often until he got used to the fact that he had a twin, but it was too late for that. The Cyclops was ready to remove that mutant protein, and maybe blow his head off in the process.
He would die on a day that, until that night, had been synonymous with parties and fun. He wanted to laugh at the irony, but the tingling of the electric shock had begun to bite into his skin like a bandage of needles. And then everything went black.