Sairen burst around the corner, staggering backward, barely keeping his footing. He had no weapon—only scrapes, blood, and three relentless machines in pursuit.
A hail of gunfire shredded the air. Catching the trajectory, Sairen dove aside, tumbling across the sand as bullets tore through webs and stone. A sharp pain lanced through his forearm—a bullet had shattered the bone, exiting the other side. He clenched his teeth, stifling a scream that refused to escape. Adrenaline surged, drowning the agony as it drove him forward.
Fortune favored him—the machines stood in each other's line of fire, offering a fleeting chance to maneuver. He dove behind a crumbled wall, smoke from a past firefight curling from beneath it. The heavy tread of the machines drew closer, their metallic screech accompanied by the glow of sensors locking onto him with uncanny precision.
Sairen bolted from cover toward the tunnel's center. Tracking the trajectories of the three machines, he veered sideways, dodging a volley of shots. A roll saved his head from a bullet, though it grazed his ear, splitting the skin. Blood spattered the sand, but desperation dulled the pain.
He resolved to outsmart them, darting between two machines, banking on the hope they'd fire and hit each other.
But he miscalculated.
The machines froze, as if biding their time. A moment of silence—and then fire erupted anew as he landed in the crosshairs of their sights. Bullets pierced his liver; a searing pain flared in his side. Dark blood gushed from beneath his ribs, mingling with sweat and grime.
Sairen didn't have time to fall. The shots ripped through him, tearing off fingers and shattering the bones of his hand. The sand beneath his feet gave way as his body betrayed him. A long mechanical limb speared into his abdomen, shredding flesh into a bloody pulp. A bullet punctured his lung, blood flooding his throat and spilling outward.
He collapsed to the ground, mangled and broken. Pain refused to come—adrenaline held it at bay. But then a shot blasted through his eye socket. Blood and fragments of sclera sprayed into the sand, blending with the dust.
The gunfire ceased, yet the machines didn't retreat. One clamped its claw around his shoulder, grinding the flesh like a vise. Razor-sharp edges bit into him, like a red-hot skewer. The crack of ribs shattered the silence; a jagged agony tore through Sairen as the claw ripped out a pair of bones. Shredded innards, reduced to a bloody mash, slumped onto the sand. His arm, caught in the mechanical grip, tore free with a nauseating squelch, leaving an echo of crunching bone and the stench of iron.
Yet Sairen still wheezed, staring at the machines with his lone remaining eye. Pain crashed over him like a wave, twisting his shredded muscles in spasms. The sounds of the world dissolved into a hum, pierced by a single thought:
*Run. Run. Run.*
The steel machines loomed over him, their sensors seeming to mock his helplessness.
And yet…
He forced a weak smirk.
"Guess I'm not much of a target after all, huh?" he rasped, his strength fading.
His body was a ruin, his mind a charred scrap of paper, thoughts torn away by the wind. He closed his eye.
*…to hell with it all.*
Sairen ceased to resist. He hung limp in the iron claws, a sack of meat, as darkness swallowed him.
***
[INITIALIZATION COMMENCED…]
> Searching for core… [FOUND]
> Activating diagnostic protocols… [ACTIVATED]
> Loading modules:
- [Blood supply stabilization]… [LOADED]
- [ME contractor]… [LOADED]
- [Sync-chain diagnostics]… [ERROR: Chain-link segment damaged]
> Connecting to nervous system… [STABLE]
> Initializing visual interface… [ERROR: Visual control not detected]
> Body integrity diagnostics:
— Skeletal structure:
> Rib fractures: 5 [OPEN FRACTURES 7, 9, 4 RIBS, CLOSED FRACTURE…]
> Pelvic trauma: [MULTIPLE SHATTERING]
— Internal organs:
> Liver: [GUNSHOT WOUND: Function: 22%]
> Lungs: [LEFT LOBE PIERCED: Hemorrhage: ACTIVE]
> Stomach: [MECHANICAL DAMAGE: 83%]
> Gastrointestinal tract organs [NOT DETECTED]
> [REQUEST FOR GI TRACT REPLACEMENT: AUTO-APPROVED]
> Urinary system organs [NOT DETECTED]
> [REQUEST FOR URINARY SYSTEM REPLACEMENT: AUTO-APPROVED]
— Nervous system:
> Pain impulses: [FORCIBLY SUPPRESSED]
> Multiple nerve tissue ruptures: [REQUEST FOR NS REPLACEMENT: AUTO-APPROVED]
— Limbs:
> Right hand: [4 PHALANGES MISSING]
> Left leg: [TENDON DAMAGE: Mobility: 28%]
> Left arm: [NOT DETECTED]
— Life support:
> Blood loss volume: [2.4 L: Compensation: IMPOSSIBLE]
> Homeostasis: [UNSTABLE]
> Shock state: [NEUROGENIC SHOCK ACTIVE]
— Cognitive functions: [FRAGMENTED]
> Attempting Cast-net launch: [ERROR: Critical Sync-chain damage]
> Priority Breaker installation: [ERROR: Breaker not detected]
> Attempting Sync-chain restoration: [ERROR: Critical Chain-link damage]
> Attempting Protocol 0.3 launch: [FORCED RESET REQUEST: AUTO-DENIED]
> Attempting Sync-chain restoration: [ERROR: Critical Chain-link damage]
> Attempting Protocol 0.3 launch: [ERROR: AUTO-DENIED]
> Request for Sync-chain isolation [I-74 LAUNCH: AUTO-APPROVED]
> Preparing implants… [COMPLETED]
> Launching Protocol 0.1 [ACCESS GRANTED]
> Initiating forced stimulation… [COMPLETED]
***
Sairen stood in a majestic hall carved from shadow and silence. Towering columns, ancient and solemn, rose into an unfathomable height, dissolving into the dark expanse. The space felt infinite, cold as eternity itself, its mute power oppressive.
At the hall's center loomed a pedestal, like a solitary mountain. Upon it rested a coffin—massive, as if built for a being whose shadow could engulf a fortress. Its leaden surface was etched with runes, ancient and alien, seeming to stir under his gaze.
Heavy chains, darkened by time, coiled around the coffin, stretching from its edges to the columns and anchored into the stone with ancient spikes. Yet even they quivered faintly, like the breath of a slumbering beast.
Sairen froze, unable to move. Grandeur and terror, woven together, filled the hall. Before this might, he felt like a speck of dust, a spark on the verge of extinction.
But then the silence was sliced by a new sound—a low, rhythmic scrape, like claws dragging across stone.
From the shadows where the columns merged with darkness emerged a figure. Its approach was ritualistically slow, each step echoing as if the hall acknowledged its dominion. Dark robes, woven from night itself, flowed like liquid shadow, dissolving into the gloom. Silver threads embroidered into the fabric glimmered like fading stars. On its hands were pristine white gloves, reinforced with metallic plates, as if forged from bone and steel.
Beneath a hood dripping with darkness gleamed a metallic mask, mimicking a wolf's snout with chilling precision. The elongated maw, with its clamped jaws, framed sharp cheekbones. Within the hollow eye sockets glowed a bluish light, like a digital core. Fine cracks on the mask released faint wisps of vapor, as if the entity breathed with mechanical cold. Around its neck hung a bell, cast from the same dark metal, its surface inscribed with runes that pulsed in time with the coffin's chains.
The figure halted a few paces away. Its presence pressed down like a storm poised to strike. It tilted its head, the mask clicking with a metallic snap.
Sairen watched the figure, teeth gritted. Anxiety gnawed at his muscles, but he forced himself to straighten, meeting the glowing eye sockets.
"Who are you?" he rasped, his voice trembling with pain and exhaustion.
The mask emitted a cold sound, synthesized from fragmented signals.
"I am Protocol Eclipse," the figure intoned. "Guardian of this archive."
Sairen clenched his fists, his pounding heart barely contained.
"What archive?" he forced out. "Why am I here?"
The light in the mask's eye sockets flickered, as if scanning him.
"Surrender your body," the voice commanded, sharp and lifeless as a machine.
Sairen froze, his mind stumbling over the words.
"What?" he stammered, his voice faltering. "My body? What are you talking about?"
The figure tilted its head slightly, vapor from the mask's cracks thickening as the runes on the bell flared brighter.
"Your body," it repeated, its tone cold and unyielding. "I need it."