The Rust Sprawl had changed overnight.
Two days ago, Authority banners still blinked on street corners, and gang tags meant something. Now, the only thing lighting the alleys were burning drones and flickering holos of Marcus's red eyes. The blackout hadn't lifted; the city was running on fear and backup generators.
Jack moved through it like a shadow. His coat was streaked with dried blood and ash. Victor followed a few paces behind, rifle steady, scanning rooftops like he expected them to fall.
The whispers followed them everywhere.
"King."
"Ghost."
"Monster."
Kids peered from broken windows, clutching glowsticks for warmth. Scavenger crews ducked out of sight, weapons low but hands trembling. Jack didn't look at them. He felt their stares, the way they didn't know whether to worship him or run.
Jack's vision glitched. The HUD bled red at the edges. Warnings flashed too fast to read:
Neural sync climbing.
Stability dropping.
Host… fracturing.
He blinked hard, shook his head, and kept walking.
Victor caught the flicker. "You're burning out."
Jack ignored him.
They turned a corner, stepping over the charred husk of a mech. Spray paint scrawled across its armor read: LONG LIVE THE KING. Someone had drawn a crown over Jack's face on a cracked billboard above.
Jack's lip curled. "They're getting bold."
Victor's voice was low. "You wanted fear. You've got something else now."
Jack stopped, scanning the graffiti, the murmurs drifting through shattered windows. His jaw tightened.
"Let them watch," he muttered.
Marcus sat in darkness, eyes glowing faint in the reflection of his cracked mirror. Carla knelt nearby, silent, her face pale in the dim light.
Marcus's own reflection glitched—split into shards of Jack's face. He chuckled softly, dragging a hand over his jaw.
"Do you hear it, pet?" His voice was low, sharp. "They're chanting his name. My name. It's all the same."
Carla swallowed. "You're… losing control."
Marcus turned sharply, crouching so close she flinched. His smile was sharp enough to cut. "No, little ghost. I'm spreading."
The System crawled warnings across his vision:
Stability: 35% → 30%
Neural Signature Overlap: 82%
HOST MERGE WARNING
Marcus grinned wider. "Soon, Halo won't know where I end and Jack begins."
Back in the Sprawl, Jack's fingers twitched around his blade hilt. The Blood Oath power humming under his skin felt stronger now—too strong. Every sound was too sharp, every heartbeat too loud.
They slipped through a market street turned war zone. Civilians huddled under tarps, gangs perched on rusted cars with rifles slung. A man in scavenger armor stepped out, bold enough to block Jack's path.
"King," the man sneered, voice cracking. "You brought this hell here. People dying, drones burning. You ain't no savior. You're just Marcus with a pulse."
Jack froze. The words hit harder than the rifle pointed at his chest.
Victor stepped forward. "Back off."
Jack didn't move. He tilted his head slightly, like he was studying prey. "Say that again."
The man swallowed but held his ground. "You're—"
Jack's blade was at his throat before he could finish. Blood beaded against the edge. The man's hands trembled, gun clattering to the street.
"Jack!" Victor barked.
Jack's hand twitched, every nerve screaming to finish it. His HUD flashed red, Marcus's voice crawling through the static:
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Jack blinked hard. For a second, Victor's face replaced the man's in his vision. He staggered back, blade lowering.
Victor grabbed his arm, shoving him toward an alley. "You're not fine," he snapped.
Jack snarled, shaking him off. "I'm in control."
Victor's glare was sharp. "You're not. And if you become him, I'll put you down myself."
Jack turned away, jaw clenched, heart pounding like gunfire.
A flicker of static caught Jack's attention as they moved deeper into the Sprawl. A holo billboard ahead switched on, Marcus's face filling it.
"Stop chasing me, Jack," Marcus said, voice smooth, calm. "You're doing my work for me."
Every screen in the street blinked on, all showing Jack's own face, crowned in graffiti, haloed in red.
"Do you see it?" Marcus whispered through every speaker, every broken drone. "They've already chosen. They want a monster. They'll get one."
Jack's vision blurred. His reflection in a cracked window smirked back at him—but it wasn't his smirk.
Victor cursed under his breath. "We're surrounded."
Shapes moved on the rooftops. Not scavengers. Not Authority. Revenant Constructs, stitched from steel and bone, crawling down the walls like spiders.
Marcus's voice purred through the static: "Welcome home, King."
Jack gripped his blade tighter, blood dripping from his knuckles.
"Good," he muttered. "I was getting bored."
The Constructs lunged.