The city burned in colors that didn't belong to Earth.
Kael staggered through the ruins of the alley, neon signs flickering overhead, their corporate slogans glitching into nonsense. Smoke and blood clung to the rain-soaked pavement. His body felt alien, humming with something sharp and alive beneath the skin. His fists still dripped with what was left of the enforcers.
He couldn't stop shaking—not from fear, but from the pulse inside him.
> "Haaah, look at you," the System laughed in his head, voice ragged and delighted, "first time killing with purpose and you're trembling like a virgin in a whorehouse. Don't worry, partner, it gets easier. Or worse. Depends on your appetite."
Kael leaned against a crumbling wall, chest heaving. "What… did you do to me?"
> "Correction: what we did. Contract, remember? You bleed, I breathe. I breathe, you break bones like twigs. Symbiosis, baby."
His ribs had healed. His cuts had closed. His lungs no longer burned with every breath. He felt… durable, almost wrong. Like something was patchworking his body together on the fly.
The rain hissed louder. Footsteps splashed nearby.
Kael's head snapped up.
From the far end of the alley, shapes emerged—half a dozen men in patchwork armor, gang tattoos glowing faintly with bioluminescent ink. Razor Rats, the lowest gutter-scum of the city, scavengers who preyed on beggars and loners.
One of them spat, metal teeth glinting. "Yo, look at this. Pretty boy painted in blood. You kill our payday, trash?"
Another brandished a chain with cyber-hooks. "Doesn't matter. Corp's loss is our gain. Strip him, gut him, sell what's left."
Kael's pulse steadied. He should've run. Six men, maybe more hiding in the dark. But something inside him—something hot and vicious—rose with the storm.
The System purred.
> "Perfect. Fresh meat. Think of it as… a tutorial."
---
They rushed him.
Kael moved before thought. His fist shot out, shattering the jaw of the first Rat in a spray of teeth and blood. The body folded backward, chain clattering useless to the ground.
The second swung a jagged blade. Kael ducked low, ripped the man's legs out from under him, then drove his heel into the thug's throat. Cartilage crunched.
The others hesitated.
Kael blinked at himself. What the fuck—how am I moving like this?
> "Instinct package, courtesy of yours truly. Don't think. Just bleed. Go on, partner, dance."
Kael didn't dance. He tore. He broke. He carved through them with brutality he didn't know he had.
One tried to run. Kael hurled a broken pipe, skewering the bastard against the alley wall.
When it was over, six bodies bled into the gutter.
Kael stood over them, breath steaming, knuckles raw but unbroken. His reflection stared back from a puddle—one golden eye glowing faintly, the other bleeding lines of code across his iris.
He wasn't sure who looked back anymore.
---
"Not bad," a voice drawled.
Kael spun.
At the mouth of the alley stood a man twice the size of the others, shoulders bulging with cybernetic augments, half his skull plated in chrome. His gang sigil glowed brighter, etched deep into his chest like living fire. His presence alone pressed on Kael's lungs.
This wasn't a weakling. This was a predator.
The Rats' boss.
The man cracked his knuckles. "Name's Brakk. You just killed my crew."
Kael wiped blood from his mouth. "They tried to kill me first."
Brakk grinned, all steel teeth. "And you succeeded. Which means you're mine now. I'll break you down and sell your shiny bones."
He moved. Fast. Too fast.
Kael barely twisted aside as a metal fist slammed into the wall, shattering brick. The shockwave rattled his bones.
Shit. He wasn't stronger than this one. Not even close.
The System hissed with excitement.
> "Ohhh yes. Finally, something worth watching! Careful, partner—this one'll splatter you like roadkill. Unless… you let me tweak the engine. A little power boost. Tiny price."
Kael gritted his teeth. "What price?"
> "…You'll find out later."
"Go to hell."
He dodged another swing, barely. Brakk was faster, stronger, relentless. Each punch tore craters into the walls. One graze on Kael's ribs reopened wounds.
Kael's breath rasped. He couldn't win head-on. But maybe…
His eyes darted. A cracked power conduit sparked on the wall. Exposed wires writhed like snakes, hissing with current.
Kael feigned a stumble. Brakk lunged. At the last second, Kael rolled aside, dragging Brakk's augmented arm straight into the conduit.
Electricity screamed. Brakk roared, body jerking as his implants fried.
Kael didn't hesitate. He grabbed a broken pipe and drove it through Brakk's exposed throat, using every ounce of weight and fury he had.
Blood and sparks exploded together. Brakk thrashed, then fell still, twitching in a pool of neon rain.
Kael collapsed beside the corpse, gasping, every muscle burning.
> "…Hah! That's my boy. Dirty, desperate, and alive. You'll fit right in."
---
The rain thickened, washing crimson into rivers. Kael stared at his trembling hands. He should've been dead. A dozen times over. Yet he wasn't.
> [Fusion: 0.4% → 0.6%]
[New Survivor's Record etched.]
Kael blinked as faint glowing scars burned across his ribs—marks of Brakk's blows. They didn't hurt. They hummed, like reservoirs of memory.
"What… is this?"
The System chuckled darkly.
> "Welcome to your Ledger of Scars. Every time you survive the impossible, your body remembers. That crack in your ribs? That's strength now. That burn across your back? That's resistance. You don't collect stats, Kael. You collect survival."
Kael touched the faint glow under his skin. The scar pulsed, steady and warm. He realized what it meant.
He hadn't won this fight. Not really.
He'd survived it.
The System's laughter echoed like broken glass in his skull.
> "You get it, don't you? You won't always win. But you'll live. And living long enough is all it takes to bury gods."
Kael looked at Brakk's twitching corpse, then at the storm-torn sky where impossible colors bled through the cracks.
He didn't feel like a hero. He didn't feel like a villain.
He felt alive. And for now, that was enough.
***