Location: Airborne (Above the Salender Bridge Gap).
Time: 18:05 EAT.
Status: In Freefall.
Gravity is a law. And like all laws in Neo-Dar es Salaam, it can be broken if you have enough leverage.
The Daladala bus hit the twisted ramp at 120 km/h.
For a heartbeat, the roar of the engine vanished. The grinding of the tires ceased. There was only the wind whistling through the rusted bars of the windows and the terrifying, weightless silence of freefall.
Inside the cabin, the passengers were floating. The Suit was screaming, his briefcase tumbling in the air like a satellite. The Old Man was clutching his prayer beads, his eyes squeezed shut.
But Juma didn't close his eyes.
[SYSTEM ALERT: AIRBORNE.]
[Adrenaline Spike Detected.]
[BERSERKER MODE: MAX OUTPUT.]
Time seemed to slow down. The chemical cocktail in Juma's veins accelerated his perception. He could see the dust motes suspended in the air. He could see the jagged rebar of the landing zone—a slab of broken highway fifty meters away on the other side of the gap.
He looked at the angle.
Bad geometry, Juma's mechanic brain calculated instantly. The ramp was tilted 15 degrees to the left. We're listing. If we land like this, the suspension snaps, we roll, and we slide off the edge into the ocean.
The bus was tilting mid-air. The left side—where Nia and the others were floating—was dipping lower.
"We're going to flip!" Nia screamed, her assassin instincts realizing the trajectory.
Juma looked at the roll cage. He looked at his own massive, heavy hand.
I can't hack the bus, Juma thought. The system locked my interface. I can't adjust the stabilizers.
He looked at the terrified passengers huddled on the left side.
But I have mass. S-Rank mass.
"Everyone to the right!" Juma roared, his voice booming over the wind.
Nobody moved. They were paralyzed by fear.
"Fine," Juma growled. "I'll do it myself."
Juma unhooked his legs from the rear bench. He grabbed the overhead handrail. The metal groaned under his grip.
He didn't just pull himself; he threw himself.
Using the handrail as a pivot point, Juma swung his entire body—all 120 kilograms of super-dense, chemically enhanced muscle—toward the high side of the bus.
It was a violent, kinetic shift. Like a pendulum swinging inside a clock.
CRUNCH.
He slammed into the right-hand wall of the bus with enough force to dent the steel plating.
Physics.
The sudden shift in internal weight forced the bus to rotate in mid-air. The chassis groaned, twisting against the torque. The nose of the bus leveled out. The left side rose.
The bus slammed onto the asphalt of the far side.
BOOM.
It wasn't a clean landing. It was a car crash.
The tires exploded on impact. The suspension disintegrated, sending sparks showering like fireworks. The bus skidded sideways, metal screeching against stone, sliding toward the edge of the cliff.
Juma was thrown across the cabin like a ragdoll. He slammed into the wheel well, his shoulder taking the brunt of the impact.
[DAMAGE DETECTED: Left Clavicle Fracture.]
[PAIN SUPPRESSION: ACTIVE.]
He felt a snap, but the pain was distant, like it was happening to someone else. The collar buzzed, pumping more painkillers into his neck.
The bus spun 180 degrees and came to a halt, the rear bumper hanging precariously over the abyss. The ocean churned fifty meters below, hungry for scrap metal.
Silence returned to the bus. Then, the groans started.
Juma lay on the floor, breathing hard. The air smelled of burnt rubber and friction.
"We... we made it?" The Suit whispered, pulling himself out from under a seat. He was bleeding from a cut on his forehead.
"We made it," the Old Man prayed. "Alhamdulillah."
[LIVE FEED UPDATE]
[Viewers: 4,500,100]
[Chat Speed: FAST]
> User_SpeedDemon: DID YOU SEE THAT? The Tank just countered the roll!
> User_PhysicsProf: That wasn't a skill. That was just raw weight transfer. Ugly, but effective.
> User_Hater99: He got lucky. I wanted a splash.
>
Juma ignored the floating text. He tried to stand up, but his legs were shaking. The Stim-Pack was wearing off, leaving him with the trembling weakness of an adrenaline crash.
"Hey," a voice said.
Juma looked up.
Nia was standing over him. She was unharmed—her Assassin class gave her high Agility, allowing her to land like a cat. She was looking at him with a mix of confusion and calculation.
"You knew," she said. "You knew the weight was off."
"Mechanic," Juma wheezed, tapping his temple. "It's just... balance."
Suddenly, the bus lurched.
The metal groaned. The rear axle, hanging over the cliff edge, shifted. The floor tilted.
"Get out!" Nia shouted.
The passengers scrambled for the door. The Suit kicked the emergency exit open and jumped out. The Old Man followed.
Juma tried to move, but his heavy boot was caught. The impact had twisted the metal floor plates, pinning his left foot.
"Stuck," Juma grunted. He pulled. The metal held.
The bus slipped another inch. The ocean roared below.
Nia was at the door. She looked back. She saw Juma trapped.
[SYSTEM ALERT: OPPORTUNITY.]
[Target: Berserker (Juma).]
[Bounty: 500 Credits.]
[Objective: Let him fall.]
Juma saw the reflection of the red text in Nia's eyes. He knew what she was seeing. The System was offering her money to let him die.
"Go," Juma said, his voice calm. He gripped the twisted metal trapping his foot. "I'll figure it out."
Nia hesitated. Her hand lingered on the door frame. 500 Credits was enough to buy food for a week. It was enough to buy a knife.
She looked at the credits. Then she looked at the dent in the wall where Juma had slammed himself to save them all.
"Tch," she clicked her tongue. "Idiot."
She didn't leave. She didn't help him either. Instead, she pulled a small, silver pin from her hair.
"The hydraulic release," she pointed to a panel near Juma's head. "Hit it."
"It's jammed!"
"Hit it harder!" Nia yelled. "You're a Berserker! Use your attribute!"
Juma looked at the panel. It was designed to be opened with a key.
Fine.
He made a fist. The blue veins on his arm pulsed. He didn't think about the mechanics or the wiring. He just thought about force.
SMASH.
He punched the panel. The plastic shattered. His fist crumpled the metal casing, short-circuiting the locking mechanism.
Hiss.
The floor plates loosened as the hydraulic pressure died. Juma ripped his foot free.
"Move!"
He dove toward the door, tackling Nia out of the bus just as the vehicle lost its battle with gravity.
They hit the asphalt of the bridge, rolling away.
Behind them, the Daladala tipped backward. It fell silently for three seconds before—SPLASH. A massive plume of white water erupted from the ocean below.
Juma lay on his back, staring at the Sky-Mesh. The "Purge Wall" had stopped on the other side of the gap. They were safe. For now.
"You owe me 500 credits," Nia muttered, dusting off her tactical skirt.
Juma laughed. It was a dry, painful sound. "Put it on my tab."
He sat up and checked his stats.
> HP: 82% (Clavicle Fracture - Stabilized)
> Stamina: 40%
> Hunger: 65%
>
"Hunger," Juma realized. The Stim-Packs burned calories like a furnace. He was starving.
A drone buzzed down. It wasn't the camera drone. It was a Supply Drone. It carried a small, white box with the M.M. Corp logo.
[DONATION RECEIVED]
[From: User_GlitchFan01]
[Message: Nice landing, big guy. Eat something.]
The drone dropped the box at Juma's feet.
Juma opened it. Inside was a single, vacuum-sealed energy bar and a small bottle of water.
The Suit—the man Juma had saved—saw the food. His eyes went wide.
"Give me that," The Suit demanded, stepping forward. He held the pipe he had picked up earlier. "I'm a Level 2 Manager at Vodashop. My life is worth more than yours."
Juma looked at the energy bar. He looked at The Suit.
The Suit was trembling, but desperation made him brave. "Hand it over, asset. You're just a tank. You don't need brain food."
Nia watched, leaning against a broken pillar. She wanted to see what Juma would do.
Juma stood up. He towered over The Suit. He slowly unwrapped the energy bar.
"You're right," Juma said quietly. "I am a tank."
He took a bite of the bar. He chewed slowly, staring dead into The Suit's eyes.
"And tanks run on fuel."
The Suit flinched, stepping back. "You... you selfish—"
"I saved your life," Juma said, swallowing. "That was free. The food? That I earned."
He tore the remaining half of the bar and tossed it to Nia.
Nia caught it. She looked surprised.
"Tax," Juma muttered. "For the advice on the hydraulics."
Nia smirked, biting into the bar. "Pleasure doing business."
The Suit scowled, spitting on the ground, and walked away to join the other survivors who were looting the bodies of those who didn't make the jump.
"We need to move," Nia said, finishing her water. "The Safe Zone is still 4 kilometers away. And the sun is setting."
"What's next?" Juma asked, testing his shoulder. It was stiff, but functional.
"The Kigamboni Crossing," Nia pointed east.
Juma looked. In the distance, the massive suspension bridge of Kigamboni connected their island of ruin to the Financial District.
It was perfectly intact. No holes. No fire.
"It looks too clean," Juma noted. "Why is no one crossing it?"
"Because," Nia said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The chat calls it the Bridge of Silence. Last year, fifty people ran onto that bridge. None of them came out. And no one heard them scream."
Juma felt a chill that had nothing to do with the wind.
"Sound mines?" Juma guessed.
"Or something worse," Nia adjusted her collar. "You better hope your 'Physics Hacks' work on sound, heavy-stepper. Because if you make a noise there... you're dead."
Juma looked at his heavy combat boots. He looked at the massive metal plating fused to his chest by the Berserker class. He was a walking drum kit.
"Great," Juma sighed. "I guess I'm learning to tiptoe."
He began walking toward the bridge. But before he left the crash site, he stopped.
He saw something in the rubble. A piece of the bus engine. A Spark Plug.
It was small. Useless to a normal person.
Juma picked it up.
[Item: Rusted Spark Plug]
[Class: Junk]
[Utility: None]
Juma squeezed it in his hand. To the System, it was junk. To a mechanic, it was a ceramic insulator. It could break glass silently. It could start a fire.
"Junk," Juma whispered, pocketing it. "We'll see."
He followed Nia into the shadows of the ruins.