Smoke rolled off the broken skyscrapers like fog.
Glass crunched under Karl's boots with every unsteady step.
He held his ribs with one hand, the Drive Regulator with the other.
Each breath was a furnace blast in his lungs.
Agnes floated above the regulator in a tiny, shy hologram bubble — following like a flustered ghost too embarrassed to make eye contact.
"Karl…" she whispered.
"…you're running on four percent. FOUR. DO YOU HEAR ME."
He dragged one foot forward.
"Yeah… that's why I'm not transforming."
"No, I mean— four percent is dangerously close to soul-death! Can you at least slow down!?"
Karl gave a weak smile.
"This is slow, Agnes."
She blinked.
"Oh."
He limped onto the sidewalk, weaving between flipped cars and shattered street lamps. The crash site behind him was still smoldering, fires reflecting in store windows like orange ghosts.
Every time his heart beat, the Vythra inside him flickered —
like a dying lightbulb trying to hold on.
Agnes hovered anxiously above the Regulator.
Her earlier embarrassment was still there — glowing on her cheeks — but the fear was louder now.
"Karl… if your Vythra drops to zero
percent— Yggdrasil won't catch you in time."
"I know."
"So why aren't you scared!?"
"I am."
He swallowed hard.
"But if I panic… I'll use more Vythra."
Agnes's hologram flickered with worry.
She hated that he made sense.
They walked, slow and broken, the city quiet except for distant sirens and the crunch of rubble under Karl's boots.
Every few meters, his legs trembled — phantom pain surging through the bones Yggdrasil had just rebuilt.
Agnes glowed brighter each time he staggered.
"Stop walking for a second," she pleaded softly.
Karl shook his head.
"If I stop… I'll pass out."
"And what if you fall!?" Agnes shot back.
"What if your Vythra flickers the wrong way? What if you drop below 0.01 percent and— and—"
Her voice broke.
Karl paused.
Looked at her gently.
"…Agnes."
She puffed her cheeks, refusing to look at him.
"I'm supposed to be a high-functioning navigation-and-combat AI, not— not whatever THIS emotional mess is—"
Karl chuckled.
"Honestly, it's kinda nice."
Agnes froze mid-float.
"N-Nice—!?! Karl, I literally screamed 'fuck' in your ear every ten seconds during Overburn—"
"You were giving combat alerts."
"YOU KNOW WHAT KIND OF ALERTS THEY WERE—!!"
Karl winced as a sharp sting ran through his chest —
a Vythra dip.
His vision blurred.
Agnes instantly darted in front of him.
"Karl—! Hey— stay with me— don't you fucking DARE collapse—"
"I'm fine… just tired…"
"You're NOT fine!" she snapped, voice cracking.
"You're at FOUR percent! You're basically made of glass right now!"
She grabbed his face with both holographic hands —
her touch phased through him but the gesture was real.
"Karl… please slow down. Please…"
He blinked at her.
"…I just need to find someplace quiet."
"Then lean on me," she whispered.
Karl raised an eyebrow.
"You're a hologram."
Agnes smacked his cheek — her hand phased through, but she did it anyway.
"IT'S THE EMOTIONAL GESTURE THAT MATTERS!"
Karl laughed —
weak, breathless, but real.
"Okay, okay. I'll slow down."
He adjusted his pace —
small steps
careful footing
steady breathing
minimum Vythra output
Agnes hovered closer, still blushing, still flustered, still anxious.
The ruined city stretched out ahead of them.
Dark.
Empty.
Quiet.
Agnes finally spoke, her voice soft, shy, almost trembling:
"…Karl?"
"Yeah?"
She looked down, cheeks glowing cyan.
"…Next time you design something that goes inside my port…"
Karl's ears burned.
"Agnes— PLEASE—"
"…test it on yourself first."
Karl tripped.
Agnes facepalmed so hard her hologram glitched.
"I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT—!!!"
Karl laughed again —
and this time, it didn't hurt.
Agnes was still muttering beside him as he limped down the ruined street.
"I swear to Yggdrasil, Karl, if you EVER shove that injector arm into my port at that angle again— I will rewrite your tactile feedback so you feel it too."
Karl squinted through dust and broken neon signs.
"Agnes… I just survived a skyscraper-level crash. Can you not threaten my nervous system right now?"
"I'm not threatening you! I'm EDUCATING YOU!" she snapped. "That needle has THREE micro-barbs! THREE! Who the hell needs barbs on an injector?! Do you know what barbs DO inside a port?!"
Karl rubbed his face.
"I dunno, maybe stabilize the seal—"
"NO! They grip the port lining like a harpoon, Karl! They dig in and scrape while the chamber floods!"
She threw her tiny holographic arms in the air.
"Do you know what that feels like from MY perspective—?!"
Karl coughed.
"Apparently… very… uh… stimulating?"
Agnes nearly short-circuited.
"I WAS NOT SAYING IT LIKE THAT— I MEANT— YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT—!!!"
Karl held up a hand.
"Agnes, I'm literally dying. Please don't make me laugh right now."
Her projection flickered red with embarrassment.
"Good! You deserve pain after skewering me like a kebab!"
Karl opened his mouth.
Stopped.
Because—
The air changed.
A shadow slid across the street behind them.
Then a growl.
Wet. Guttural. Hollow.
Karl slowly turned his head.
A Rendracer dragged itself from a collapsed storefront — ribs poking out like jagged branches, skull cracked open with glowing red sludge leaking down its face. It sniffed the air like a starving dog.
Its eyes fixed on Karl.
On his weak Vythra.
On the dying ember inside his chest.
Agnes' voice went razor sharp.
"Karl— BACK UP— it's sensing your Vythra signature—!"
Karl inhaled.
Exhaled.
Rolled his shoulders.
"No."
Agnes's projection glitched in panic.
"N-No?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO YOU HAVE FOUR PERCENT—!!"
Karl raised his right hand.
Nanites rippled across his fingers like quicksilver.
The demon hissed, ribs expanding, drool sizzling onto the ground.
Agnes darted around him frantically.
"Karl you cannot engage— if you drop to three percent— you'll faint— or worse— your Vythra could slip— your soul could— Karl LISTEN TO ME—!!"
He didn't listen.
Instead—
He clenched his fist.
Nanites surged from the Regulator, swirling around his arm, hardening into a long, jagged blade.
A simple weapon.
Pure nanite steel.
No frame. No boosters. No transformation.
Just Karl.
Just his will.
Karl stepped forward, steady but exhausted.
"You picked the wrong target," he told the demon, voice low, breath shaking but eyes cold.
The demon lunged.
Claws out. Maw open. Hunger ripping through its body.
Karl moved once.
One step.
One slash.
A clean horizontal sweep that cut the air with a metallic hiss.
SHHKK—!!
The demon froze.
Its head slid off its shoulders. Hit the pavement. Rolled twice.
The body followed, collapsing like a puppet with cut strings.
Agnes stared, mouth open.
"K-Karl— you— you just— in your HUMAN form—"
Karl flicked nanite blood off the blade. The sword dissolved back into his palm.
"I'm low on Vythra," he muttered, stepping over the corpse. "Not weak enough to fall to a bottom-feeder."
Agnes floated close, still stunned.
"Karl… you shouldn't have done that. You can't waste output like that. You could've—"
He reached out and tapped her hologram gently.
"Hey. I'm fine."
"You are NOT fine!" Agnes practically screamed. "You're running on fumes, your soul is rattling, your vitals are unstable, and you keep making jokes! Karl— PLEASE— just sit down before another demon shows up—!"
Karl smirked.
"Can't."
"WHY!?"
He pointed ahead.
A small subway entrance. Dark. Quiet. Intact.
"A bunker," Karl said softly.
"Somewhere to hide. Somewhere I can rest without burning more Vythra."
Agnes' hologram deflated like a tired balloon.
"…Okay. But you're letting me complain the whole way there."
Karl chuckled.
"Wouldn't expect anything less."
She puffed her cheeks.
"Good. Because the injector arm is STILL on my list. You haven't heard the last of this—"
Karl winced.
"Great."
And together — a broken human and his flustered AI — they limped toward shelter, leaving demon ash smoking on the street behind them.