Deep within Arasaka Labs, the air was cold, sterile, and heavy with the hum of machinery. White walls stretched endlessly under harsh fluorescent lights, broken only by panels of reinforced glass and rows of cutting-edge equipment. The smell of ozone lingered faintly, a side effect of the energy surging through the room's countless terminals.
Inside one of the most secure chambers, a man stood near the glass observation window, framed by the glow of monitors and holographic projections. His figure was broad, his tailored black suit stretching slightly over his shoulders. A faint red glow pulsed beneath his collar, just barely visible at the edges of his neck, a sign of extensive cyberware beneath the surface.
The most unnerving feature, however, was his face—or rather, the cybernetic portion of it. Where his eyes, nose, and part of his cheekbones should have been was smooth, white plating, polished like a Greek statue. The outline of eyes and nostrils were sculpted into the surface, eerily human yet completely artificial. The man held a cigar between two metallic fingers, smoke curling lazily upward as he stared through the glass at the figure on the other side.
Behind him, the hiss of an opening door broke the stillness. A woman in a sleek black blazer stepped inside, a slim folder of documents held against her chest. Her hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, and the red Arasaka logo embroidered on her blazer matched the one clipped to the ID badge hanging from her lapel. She glanced around the room with a mixture of curiosity and unease before her eyes fell on the man by the glass.
He didn't turn around.
"Ruki Fujioka, is it?" His voice was deep and smooth, carrying the weight of authority without raising above a conversational tone.
She stopped mid-step, stiffening. "Y-yes, sir," she said, gripping the folder more tightly.
The man exhaled a puff of smoke, watching it swirl against the reinforced glass. "Age 27. Degrees in cybernetic communications and cybersecurity," he continued, as if reading from a script only he could see. "You've been with us for about two and a half years now, am I right? Recently promoted to security architect. Congratulations"
Ruki swallowed, her throat dry. "Th—that's correct."
He smirked, though the motion looked strange with the sculpted mask of his face. "Do you like your work?"
Her lips twitched into a forced smile. "It's… my dream job, actually. It's what I went to school for."
"Dream job, huh?" He tapped the cigar against the edge of an ashtray, his gaze still fixed on the glass. "Come. Have a look."
Ruki hesitated before stepping forward. Her shoes clicked softly against the polished floor as she approached the window. When she stopped beside him, her eyes instinctively followed his gaze into the lab.
"What exactly are you all working on?" she asked, trying to mask her apprehension with curiosity.
The man's smirk widened into a grin. "Something that'll give the enemies of Arasaka nightmares."
Her gaze shifted into the lab. Suspended in the center of the room was a figure—a sleek, humanoid frame lying motionless in a cradle of cables and machinery. The figure's smooth, white surface gleamed under the overhead lights, its seams almost invisible save for faint grooves running along its limbs and torso. Wires and tubes snaked from its body into a large machine above, a faint glow pulsing at the connection points like a heartbeat. The longer she looked, the more an unshakable sense of dread settled over her.
"What… is that thing?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The man took another slow puff of his cigar, his grin never faltering. "Well, that's up to him to decide once he's awake. I suppose."
Ruki turned to him sharply, her disbelief cutting through her unease. "He?"
The man chuckled, savoring her reaction. "You're looking at the newest advancement in cybernetic warfare. Think of him as an… Adam Smasher 2.0. Fully borg—fully controllable. Equipped with Arasaka's newest in compact nuclear weaponry. He's sleeker—less of an eyesore than the original Smasher. Able to infiltrate, exterminate, and subjugate… all by himself."
Her chest tightened at the mention of nuclear weaponry. Like most people, she had assumed Arasaka was done with such devastating technology. "Fully borg? But the cyberpsychosis would—"
"We took measures for that," the man interrupted, his tone matter-of-fact. "Turns out even in death, Smasher has his uses."
"I… don't understand."
"As we know, he's the only bastard to go full borg without succumbing to it. So we used an old trick of ours. Kept his consciousness for safekeeping… just for a moment like this."
The realization hit her like a blow to the chest. "Are you saying… that Smasher… is in there too?"
"I knew you were a smart girl." He grinned wider as he turned back to the lab, raising a hand to signal the scientists. "Begin activation."
Her instinct screamed at her to leave, but her feet refused to move. Dread rooted her in place, mingling with a dangerous curiosity. She couldn't tear her eyes away as the lights in the lab dimmed, replaced by a faint blue glow. The hum of machinery deepened, filling the air with vibrations as cables pulsed with energy.
The figure in the cradle twitched. Once. Twice. The grooves along its body lit up in sharp red lines as its systems came alive, the glow spreading outwards like molten veins. Then, with a sudden burst of light, its eyes opened.
The room was bathed in red. The figure sat up slowly, its movements unnervingly graceful. Ruki felt her breath catch as its glowing eyes locked directly onto her, pinning her in place with a stare that felt both calculated and cruel. Then its head tilted slightly, the motion deliberate yet disturbingly smooth. That's when she heard it.
"Hello there, little mouse," a voice purred inside her head. It wasn't spoken aloud. It was in her—sharp, invasive, and dripping with malice. "Come to see what hunts in the dark?"
Pain flared behind her eyes, sharp and searing. She flinched, gripping the edge of the console to steady herself.
In the lab, alarms began to blare as the scientists scrambled in panic.
"He's hacked an encrypted signal!" one of them shouted.
"Shut it down! Now!"
"How the hell did he—?"
The signal cut abruptly, and the red glow in the room dimmed. The figure remained motionless, but the damage was done. The man beside her crushed his cigar into the ashtray and glared into the lab. "Get me answers," he barked. "Now."
Ruki didn't wait around. She turned and walked quickly to the door, her pulse hammering in her ears. By the time she reached the elevator, her hands were trembling. She stepped inside and pressed the button for her floor, leaning against the wall as the doors closed. The hum of the lab faded, but the image of those red eyes stayed with her. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the sound of that voice in her mind.
[ A week later…]
Ruki sat alone in an opulent studio apartment, perched on the edge of a sleek, angular sofa that matched the cold, modern design of the room. The glass coffee table before her reflected the dim, ambient lighting—soft hues of blue and white glowing from hidden fixtures embedded in the walls. Everything was pristine, expensive, and seemingly lifeless.
She stared at her holo-phone lying face-up on the table, its display silently flashing as she waited for an answer. Her thumb hovered over the screen, wanting to hang up—hating herself for needing someone. Instead, she grabbed the half-full glass of amber liquor beside her, twirling it slowly in her hand as the faint sound of the city buzzed outside her triple-paned windows.
The voicemail came up. She glared at the flashing screen, showing Kento across the top—a smug corporate headshot of her boyfriend displayed below it. "Can't answer right now, I'm busy. Leave a…" Her chest tightened, and she swiped to end it mid-sentence, silencing his too-smooth, too-dismissive tone.
"Of course you're too busy," she muttered, her tone bitter and sarcastic. She took a long sip from the glass, leaning back into the sofa as the liquor burned its way down. She wanted to shake the memory of that night at the lab—the sight of him, out of her head. But no amount of liquor or luxurious distractions could drown out all the things it implied. All the things Arasaka does and covers up, or worse—never even answer for.
Her holo-phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't Kento. She let out a breath, swiped to answer, and leaned her head back against the sofa.
"Hello?" Her voice was clipped, defensive.
"Ruki, you're alive!" came a bright, teasing voice. It was Chiyo, her friend from university and one of the few people who could still wriggle past Ruki's carefully constructed walls. "I was starting to think Arasaka stuffed you in a vault somewhere. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Ruki said curtly, immediately regretting how cold it sounded.
Chiyo wasn't having it. "You're such a bad liar, you know that? You sound like you haven't slept in days. Which, knowing you, is probably true."
Ruki smirked faintly, despite herself. "Work's been… intense."
"Uh-huh. Translation: I can't talk about it or the scary suits will come for me." Chiyo's tone was breezy, but there was a knowing edge beneath it. "Ruki, you need a break before your brain explodes all over that fancy-ass apartment of yours."
"I'm fine," Ruki said again, though her voice lacked conviction.
"Fine? Please. You're a pent-up Arasaka drone, and I'm not letting you mope in your ivory tower tonight." Chiyo's voice brightened. "There's this underground show. Grave Signal. Heard of them?"
"Grave Signal?" Ruki frowned, trying to place the name. It sounded vaguely familiar, though she couldn't remember from where. "No, not really."
"Well, they're incredible. Like, blow-your-eardrums, make-you-lose-your-mind incredible. And they're playing tonight. You're coming with me."
"I don't know…" Ruki trailed off, glancing around her empty apartment—having no real reason to refuse her.
Chiyo's voice softened, taking on a conspiratorial tone. "Ruki. You work too much. Your boyfriend's a self-absorbed snob who doesn't deserve you. And you've got this… thing hanging over your head." She paused. "Come on. One night. No suits, no stress, no Kento. Just music, lights, and maybe a little chaos. It's exactly what you need."
Ruki hesitated, then sighed. "Fine. I'll go. But only because you're so annoyingly persistent."
"That's my girl!" Chiyo laughed. "I'll pick you up in an hour. Wear something fun. And by fun, I mean not corpo chic."
On the way to the show, Chiyo's car glided smoothly through the neon-lit streets, its engine humming softly as it weaved through the late-night traffic. Chiyo had one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily on the edge of the console, tapping her fingers to the beat of a song playing faintly through the speakers.
Ruki sat in the passenger seat, leaning against the window with her chin propped in her hand. The world outside zipped by in streaks of electric blue, pink, and gold, but her gaze was unfocused, lost somewhere beyond the glass.
"And then, he has the audacity to tell me I'm too intimidating," Chiyo was saying, her voice animated and incredulous. "Like, sorry for having standards, right? He spilled his drink on me, but sure, I'm the problem. God, men are hopeless."
Ruki hummed faintly, a noncommittal noise that didn't quite land as a response.
Chiyo glanced at her and smirked. "You're doing that thing again."
"What thing?" Ruki asked without turning her head.
"That thing where you stare out the window like a tragic holo-movie protagonist. Stop it—it's depressing." Chiyo teased. She adjusted the rearview mirror with a flick of her wrist. "I mean, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were plotting revenge or something. Should I be worried?"
Ruki snorted softly, shaking her head. "I'm fine."
"Uh-huh. Sure you are." Chiyo turned her attention back to the road, navigating a sharp turn with ease. "You're like… the least convincing fine I've ever seen."
Ruki didn't reply. Her gaze drifted back to the window, to the endless wash of neon lights reflecting off the wet pavement. For a moment, her own faint reflection looked back at her—a shadowy figure in the blur of the city. But then, just as the car passed a break in the lights, her reflection shifted.
For a fraction of a second, she saw his eyes. Cold. Mechanical. Unfeeling. A flash of crimson death.
Her breath hitched. Her fingers curled into fists on her lap, and the memory of Smasher's hulking form flashed in her mind, sharp and vivid. She could almost hear the metallic screech of his movements, feel the chill of his gaze boring into her.
The car hit a slight bump in the road, jolting her back to reality. She blinked, and it was gone—just her own wide eyes staring back from the glass.
"Hey." Chiyo's voice cut through the fog. She tapped Ruki's arm lightly, glancing at her again. "What's going on in that spooky little head of yours? You've been zoning out all night."
"Nothing," Ruki said quickly, sitting up straighter and brushing her hair out of her face. "I'm just tired."
Chiyo arched an eyebrow but didn't press. "Uh-huh. Well, try to wake up before we get there. I'm not about to babysit you while you mope in a corner. Tonight's supposed to be fun."
Ruki let out a faint laugh, though it sounded hollow even to her.
Chiyo smirked. "Seriously, though. You need this. You've been stuck in your own head for, like, forever. Trust me, when the music starts, you'll forget all about Mr. Shiny Suit and whatever corpo nightmare you've been obsessing over."
"Thanks for the pep talk," Ruki said dryly, though a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"That's what I'm here for," Chiyo shot back, her grin widening. She turned up the music, the bass vibrating faintly through the car, as they neared the venue.
When they pulled up, the scene outside the warehouse was unlike anything Ruki had expected. A crowd of people surged around the entrance, lit by flickering projectors and the ambient glow of neon signs. The thrum of music pulsed through the air, deep and resonant, accompanied by the roar of voices and laughter.
"Holy shit," Ruki murmured, leaning forward slightly to get a better look. The sheer energy of the place was overwhelming.
Chiyo noticed her reaction and grinned as she parked the car. "Told you it'd be wild. This is so not your scene, but you're gonna love it. Trust me."
Ruki stepped out of the car, letting the sounds and sights wash over her. The music vibrated through her chest, and the chaotic energy of the crowd was almost intoxicating. It felt raw, alive, and completely foreign to the world she usually inhabited.
"Come on," Chiyo said, hooking an arm through Ruki's and giving it a playful tug. "Let's get inside before you chicken out."
Ruki stumbled slightly, caught off guard, but she couldn't help laughing as Chiyo pulled her toward the entrance. For the first time in weeks, something other than dread and frustration filled her chest. Excitement.
Maybe, just maybe, this was exactly what she needed.
CHAPTER END—