"Sorry, but you're not eligible for the Cyberchip implant."
Her voice was flat, processed through a synth-mask that made it sound less like a doctor and more like a machine reading out my death sentence. The words hit harder than any punch I'd ever taken. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I just stood there, blinking at her, waiting for a laugh, a joke, something. Nothing.
And I knew. She'd done it. That bitch, the daughter of Cyberchip Corp's president. One word from her and the whole city turned its back on me.
…Right. I should probably tell you who I am. Name's Mike. UFC World Champion, back in 2025. The guy every commentator called a monster in the cage. Until a back-alley gang pulled the trigger on me and left me rotting in a chair. Paralyzed waist down.
That's when some shady scientist whispered promises I couldn't refuse. Freeze yourself, he said. The future's got cures the present doesn't... And when you've got nothing left but dead legs and a dick that won't stand? You say yes.
So here I am, year 2125. One hundred years later. A hundred years of blue balls stored like a ticking bomb. If that doesn't drive a man insane, I don't know what does.
The surgery worked. One hour under cold lights and steel hands, and they rebuilt me like I'd never been broken. My spine felt solid again, humming with new strength. I stood, shaky at first, but walking like the months in a chair were just a nightmare I'd finally woken from.
But also, my old friend twitched back to life. That alone almost made me laugh. After a hundred years on ice, even a small stir was enough to make me believe again.
For the first time since waking up, I started to dream. And Bastion looked like the place where those dreams might come true.
Let me tell you... This city is a drug. Neon runs like blood through every street, billboards scream in colors you can't name, and the sky is a mess of engines humming above the towers. At night, everything glows pink, blue, acid green, and you forget darkness was ever a thing. I tell myself I belong here. Some days I almost believe it.
Then I asked Max out.
She looked at me like I'd spat on her shoes. Black hair streaked with neon pink, eyes lit like burning glass, body sculpted perfect by the credits in her veins. Every step she took said she was untouchable. Hard not to notice, harder not to want. Her father owned the damn corporation that decided who got cybernetic upgrades. One word from her mattered more than a thousand from me.
"You're just a lowly human," she said, voice sharp enough to cut. "Like hell I'd ever date you."
The people around us laughed, the kind of laughter that stings because nobody wants to stop it. My throat closed up, my fists ached to swing, but I stood there frozen, watching her smirk like she'd deleted me from existence.
That moment seared into me. Her words hit like steel, and the air turned cold around me. My jaw locked, my fists trembled, and all I could taste was metal. Just like now, hearing the refusal for the chip.
Fuck her. Fuck them all!
I swore I'd climb back, whatever it cost. I'd rip down her pride, and I'd drag every chrome-plated queen off her throne. They thought the chip made them untouchable. I'd make them crawl.
My legs carried me out of the Cyberchip Corp building, each step heavy, the ground seeming to vibrate with the anger running through me. I should've kept my cool, but the fury needed somewhere to go. I shoved past people, bodies hitting the floor. One of them was a young woman, maybe twenty at most.
What caught me off guard wasn't the fall or the curse on her lips; it was that she wasn't a cyberwoman. No glowing lines under her skin, no synthetic frame. Just flesh, soft curves hidden under a black cloak and hood.
"You alright?" I muttered, my anger cooling for a second. I reached a hand out to pull her up.
Her gaze locked onto mine, and something inside me stiffened. Her irises weren't human. Green rings spun like gears, rotating with a faint whir I swore I could hear. A shiver crawled down my spine, like ants biting their way along my nerves. My hand twitched, but before I could pull it back she gripped me tight, using my arm to stand. My tongue went numb, lips clamped as though welded shut.
"Do you crave power?"
The words slipped out of her like a code command, quiet but absolute. For a second I just stared, heat crawling down my spine. My tongue refused to speak, so I gave the only answer I could. A slow, heavy nod.
"Follow me," she said, her voice quiet but sharp enough to cut through the city noise. Her hand stayed in mine. She walked, hips swaying under that cloak, guiding me without resistance.
The street around us blurred into neon shadows. Nobody stopped us. A few glanced, then looked away with knowing smirks, as if I was paying for company. To them she was an escort.
And all I could do was move. My body obeyed hers, each step sinking deeper into the city's rotting edge: the slums. Chrome towers fell away, replaced by rusted steel, flickering signs, and the stink of poverty under neon light. My mind screamed to stop, but it was useless. I had no control over my body.
"Sit."
The order came with the groan of an old, rusty door. Inside, a cracked leather chair waited for me, its padding torn and spilling foam. The air reeked of oil and sterilizer. Medical tools lay scattered beside wrenches and soldering irons, the kind of mix that promised pain more than healing.
She guided me down with a steady hand. The chair bit cold through my clothes as clamps snapped shut around my arms. A machine whirred overhead and metal fingers forced my eyelids wide. I couldn't even ask what she planned. My throat locked, my jaw dead weight.
She lifted something from the tray. A needle, but bent, curved. My gut turned to ice, and by the time I understood where she was aiming, it was too late.
Pain seared into my skull. My vision tore apart into white fire, then collapsed into nothing.
I don't know how long I drifted in that dark. Could've been seconds, could've been years. Then static buzzed, and a dusty TV screen flickered alive in the void. A digital window burned into existence, text crawling across it, the words echoing directly in my head.
[Ding!]
[Welcome to Hack System]
[To undergo transformation, complete quests. Failure = death.]
[Desire anything… connect with cybernetic women… and I'll grant it.]
[Proceeding with first quest: Breed the woman in front of you.]