The corridor reeked of blood and burning metal. Slake's hybrid form clung to the cracked wall, his breathing ragged. Jagged plates of flesh-welded steel covered his body. From the crown of his skull jutted a triangular visor; two massive longswords grew backwards from it like warped rabbit ears. His teeth, now serrated, showed between gasps. Both arms were monstrous longswords erupted from his forearms, cross-guards sprouting from his elbows yet his left arm was gone below the shoulder, nothing but sparking tissue.
Across from him stood the man who called himself Gun Man. His hair hung loose, eyes and forehead veined with black like spilled ink. A pistol barrel and slide protruded from between his eyes, the hammer jutting from the back of his skull. His left forearm ended not in flesh but in an M4 receiver, the muzzle smoking faintly.
Gun Man: Hang over the system, Sword Man, before I kill you… I only used one percent of my power. You had two swords built into your arms, while I have only one weapon in mine.
Slake's visor tilted, glowing faintly. His remaining arm flexed but trembled.
Slake: …Why are you doing this huh? Trying to fix the world for your own vision?!
Gun Man nodded once, almost a gesture of pity. Then the weapon in his face cracked. One of Slake's sword-ears sheared away in a spray of sparks and blood.
Gun Man: Okay. Good answer then?
He stepped closer, kneeling so his strange left arm aimed directly at Slake's chest. The M4's bolt clicked back.
Gun Man: Simple. I will take your system and your longsword heart. You're the only weapon-hybrid who disappoints me. You give humans mercy. Why?
Slake raised his head, eyes burning behind the visor.
Slake: …Because I was once human. Not a devil. I accepted this contract to survive for a better future away from you monster...
Gun Man's face hardened, his voice turning cold.
Gun Man: Unless you want me to ki—
Slake moved first. His last arm shot forward, blade flashing, and drove through Gun Man's side. The hybrid's voice was a rasp:
Slake: Then die with me!
Gun Man looked down at the blade, unfazed.
Gun Man: Pitiful creature. Is that all?
Slake twisted, trying to slice deeper. Gun Man's right hand clamped down on the blade, stopping it. His left arm's M4 rose until the muzzle almost touched Slake's visor.
Gun Man: Bang.
The shot blew through Slake's head, tearing the visor and what remained beneath it into shrapnel. For a heartbeat the hybrid stayed upright, sword still buried in Gun Man's body, then his frame went slack and slid from the wall.
Gun Man's fingers curled around the blade still jutting through his side. He yanked it free with a wet metallic sound, dark fluid and oil-slick blood dripping down his coat. The hybrid-swordsman's weapon clanged to the floor as Gun Man straightened to his full height.
On the ground, Slake twitched. The ruin of his skull pulsed, plates of living steel knitting back together. Veins of red light spidered across the stump where his head had been; his visor began to reform like molten glass cooling in reverse.
Gun Man's expression didn't change. The M4 grafted to his left arm ratcheted, mechanisms spinning.
Gun Man: Stay down.
He opened fire.
The corridor filled with thunder. Streams of brass poured from Gun Man's arm in a golden waterfall. Bullets stitched through Slake's torso faster than eyes could follow, a million hammer-blows of lead and steel. Each impact blew apart the regrowing plates before they could seal; chunks of sword and flesh flew across the concrete.
Slake's form convulsed under the barrage, his monstrous limbs shrinking, swords retracting as his hybrid body was forced back into its human shape. He clawed once at the floor, mouth open soundlessly, then another volley tore through him. Blood misted the air.
The final bursts chewed through what was left. When the echo faded, only a right forearm remained on the ground bare, human, fingers curled like a question mark amid the shell casings.
Gun Man lowered his smoking arm, casing clatter dying around him. He stared at the severed limb, the reek of cordite and burned metal rising between them, waiting to see if even that would try to move.
Gun Man started forward, the smoking muzzle of his left arm still glowing red. On the floor, Slake's severed right forearm twitched once, a faint shimmer running along the blade hidden inside it.
A blur of motion broke the standoff. A muted ash-brown–haired Korean woman darted from the shadows, eyes wide. She snatched the arm off the ground and spun away.
Gun Man's head tilted, unfazed at first.
Gun Man: …
Then his voice cracked like a whip.
Gun Man: What the? What the fuck?!
The woman clutched the limb to her chest as she ran. Her voice, hoarse but urgent, echoed back:
Yewon: I'm sorry, Slake…
As she ran she peeled back the flesh of the severed arm, revealing a gleaming blade embedded in the bone. A shot rang out. The round punched through her heart; she stumbled, dropped to her knees, and collapsed lifeless onto the concrete, the arm tumbling from her grasp.
Light erupted from the severed limb. Muscle and steel swelled outward, crawling like vines across the floor, pulling Slake's body back together. In seconds he rose naked, reborn in his hybrid form, twin sword-horns blazing from his visor.
He saw her lying still. His voice tore from his throat, raw and animal:
Slake: Yewon!
He lurched toward her, reaching to cradle her but another burst from Gun Man's arm blasted him sideways, skidding him across the floor.
Gun Man charged, boots hammering the concrete.
Slake staggered upright, staring at his lover's body. His roar shook the walls.
Slake: You—
He launched himself at Gun Man, blades flashing. Both of his arms drove through Gun Man's torso in a crossing thrust. Gun Man's left arm pressed against Slake's chest, muzzle digging into the longsword heart. He fired. Both hybrids spat blood.
Slake's visor tilted close to Gun Man's face.
Slake: You should have killed me… not her.
He tore his arms outward in an X-shaped slash. The blades scissored through Gun Man's torso, splitting steel and flesh. Gun Man jerked once, eyes wide, before falling apart in two smoking halves.
Shells rolled across the floor. Slake stood over the ruin, chest heaving, blood dripping from his swords, the name Yewon still on his lips.
The sound of Gun Man's body splitting faded into a heavy silence. Steam curled from Slake's twin blades; his chest rose and fell like a forge bellows. Behind him, Yewon lay motionless.
A flicker of pale blue light opened in the air. Symbols cascaded down, forming a holographic panel before him. Text scrolled across in a cold, synthetic voice:
{"Congratulations, Sword Man."}
{"You have achieved the completion of the highest-level directive assigned by the Slake System."}
{"Through skill, endurance, and absolute force of will you have successfully neutralized the final target designation: Gun Man."}
{"As per the ultimate contract, you are hereby recognized as the terminator of the last adversary."}
{"Accordingly, you now confers upon you the totality of the final bounty: ten billion credits in hard cash transfer plus ten million system points credited to your personal ledger."}
{"Your name, Sword Man, is permanently etched into the system archive as the one who reached the End Stage and emerged victorious."}
The glow reflected off his visor. Slake's hybrid frame trembled; then, like a mirage, the blades receded, plates of steel melting back into flesh until only his human form remained. Naked, blood-spattered, he fell to his knees beside Yewon.
Slake: Stop... Stop the reward. I don't want money. I don't want points. Give me revival. Bring him back. Bring them all back including the woman i love. That's the only thing I'm asking you. Please!
The light of the System pulsed once, then the voice returned, still grand but now edged with absolute coldness:
{"Secondary request detected: Override of reward protocol 'Revival.'"}
{"Initiating cross-check…"}
{"Cross-check complete."}
{"System notification: The requested action is not within the parameters of the System's Authorized Functions."}
{"Revival of terminated entities requires a Class-Ω permission key which does not exist within your user profile and level."}
{"Therefore your request to exchange monetary and point rewards for a revival has been denied."}
{"Access… DENIED."}
Slake's voice cracked, raw with fury and despair:
Slake: NO!
Slake slammed his fists into the ground, the impact echoing like a thunderclap. Tears streaked down his face as the glowing text remained cold and unchanging, rewarding him with everything he didn't want while refusing the only thing he needed.
The holographic panel still hovered above Yewon's body, its light flickering against the blood-slick floor. Slake wiped at his face with a trembling hand. His eyes, hollow and red, fixed on the text as a thought clawed its way out of him.
Slake: …How about reset. Reset the timeline. Everything goes back to normal… Let me still be me and I can still be me at all so i can save everyone I care about!
The glyphs on the panel rippled. For the first time the System hesitated. Then its voice returned, deeper, almost resonant:
{"Access request detected: Timeline Restoration Protocol."}
{"Cross-checking user authorization…"}
{"Access Accepted: Sword Man."}
{"However, every choice carries consequence."}
Slake's head snapped up, hair falling across his face.
Slake: What kind of consequences…?
{"Upon activation of Timeline Reset you will be transported to the origin point of your path."}
{"All events will revert; all lives will resume their natural course."}
{"Your name, your deeds, and your powers will be forgotten even by you."}
{"Your memories will be sealed."}
{"They will only return when you recover the Long Sword Heart, the relic at the end of the restored path."}
{"Until that moment you will live as an ordinary soul, unaware of what you once were."}
Slake's gaze drifted to Yewon, then back to the hovering glyphs. His fingers curled into fists.
Slake: …I accept.
The panel flared white. The entire station trembled, light and steam drawing inward like breath. Slake felt his hybrid form dissolve, his body becoming weightless, pulled apart thread by thread. As the world folded in on itself, the System's voice echoed one last time:
{"RESET INITIATED. GOOD LUCK, SWORD MAN."}