"You've caused quite a stir tonight. The knights are in quite the uproar." Her voice was flat and mechanical, eyes like she'd traded humanity for something colder. "But then again, that was probably the point, wasn't it?"
Rozeree's mind raced through options, each one worse than the last. The space was too tight for her to ram past. Behind her, the alley dead-ended into solid concrete. Her gun felt heavy against her hip, but in these close quarters, a firefight could be suicide.
"Nothing to say?" Her eyes narrowed impossibly further. "They told me you were called the Mute, but I didn't think it was literal."
His words caught her off guard. They? Who had been talking about her? The job had just happened. Unless... Her eyes narrowed as she studied her more carefully. The confident posture, the expensive yet practical clothing, the way she carried herself. This was no common thug.
"Been tracking you," She said, each word clipped and efficient. "Your patterns. Predictable." Her hand moved to her jacket, and something metallic glinted in the dim light. "Step out. Slowly."
Rozeree's synthetic muscles coiled tight as springs, ready to move the instant an opportunity presented itself. But the woman seemed to read her tension. His gaze took on an edge sharp enough to cut.
"Don't." She raised one her hand, and something in her palm caught the dim light. A small device with a blinking red indicator. "Dead man's switch. Attempt escape, vehicle becomes a crater. Your new augments won't save you."
The casual way she mentioned Rozeree's modifications sent ice through her veins. She knew about the surgery. Had she been watching her even then? How long had she been her prey without realizing it?
"Last chance." Her finger tapped the dead man's switch with deliberate slowness. "Out. Or we do this the messy way." The womant climbed out of her vehicle, movements as fluid and precise as machinery, heavy boots thudding against the pavement as she approached Rozeree.
Rozeree's mind raced. Every instinct screamed at her to fight. Images of her father flashed through her mind—his warm laugh, his gentle strength, the way he'd always protected her. What would he think if he could see her now? Trapped like an animal, about to be sold for parts.
No. Not like this. Never like this.
Rozeree's synthetic muscles tensed, and she exploded into action. Her augmented legs propelled her through the car door, shattering the window in a spray of glass. The woman was already moving impossibly fast.
Rozeree's first shot grazed her shoulder, tearing fabric but finding no flesh. The woman's counterattack came like thunder. A small fist that she barely managed to dodge. The blow left a dent in the alley wall where her head had been moments before.
Rozeree spun, using her momentum to drive her elbow into the woman's kidney. It was like hitting concrete. She barely grunted, catching Rozeree's follow-up strike and using her own momentum to slam her into the ground. The impact knocking the wind from her lungs.
Rozeree rolled away, narrowly avoiding a boot that would have crushed her ribs. Her augmented reflexes gave her the split second she needed to sweep the woman's open leg. She stumbled, but didn't fall.
"Persistant," the woman mumbled, spitting blood from where an earlier blow had caught her lip.
Rozeree launched herself at her, augmented muscles pushing past their safety limits. Rozeree's fist connected with her jaw in a strike that could have knocked her head clean off. The blow snapping the woman's head back, the crack echoing off the walls like cars crashing.
But when she turned back to meet her gaze, her eyes showed no pian. Only a cold stare that sent icy tendrils of fear coiling around Rozeree's heart.
Her counter came too fast to dodge—a brutal combination that started with a feint and ended with her knee driving into Rozeree's solar plexus. She doubled over, and the woman's elbow came down on the back of Rozeree's neck, crushing her into the ground. Error messages flashed red across her vision as Rozeree's muscles seized and trembled, refusing her desperate commands to move.
She could feel her strength bleeding away, her body betraying her one nerve ending at a time until even keeping her eyes open became a battle she was losing. The woman's boot connected with Rozeree's ribs, flipping her onto her back. The blow sent white-hot pain lancing through her chest like needles, forcing a strangled gasp as her eyes bulged. Each breath felt like swallowing glass, her limbs heavy as lead and just as useless.
She tried to move. Tried to fight. But her body simply trembled under the pain of the woman's continuous blows. The last thing she saw was that emotionless face, her fist descending with mechanical precision toward her.
Rozeree's consciousness flickered, like a faulty circuit sparking in the dark. A crushing grip around her wrists. The low growl of an engine beneath her. Cold metal digging into her skin. Each sensation emerged, then vanished, slipping through her grasp as she struggled to focus.
"You'll never take me alive, foul beast!"
"You'll be mine before the day's end, mighty ascendent!"
Her head lolled against the car door, jolting her awake. Buildings blurred past as the car sped through darkened streets, her limbs bound and numb. Her mouth gagged. Every breath felt heavy, her chest heaving as she drifted back into blackness.
"It's over, Rozeree. Let's go help the hunters back in."
Rozeree fought to cling to consciousness, but the edges of her vision kept darkening, threatening to pull her back under. Each time she surfaced, she tried to call out, to resist, but her voice felt trapped, tangled in the fog clouding her mind.
"I'm leaving!"
"No, you're not!"
The muffled sounds of the driver's voice seemed to drift in and out of focus, like a radio signal fading in and out.
"Almost there. Any responses?" It was the raven-haired woman driving. "Fine. I'll make some calls when I get there. There is no way he isn't gonna come for her."
Rozeree struggled to hold onto lucidity, memories and reality bleeding together as she drifted in and out of consciousness in the backseat.
The next thing Rozeree knew, small fingers crushed around her ankle like a clamp, each digit a bar of pressure against her synthetic flesh. The world spun violently as she was yanked from the car's leather interior, her augmented body as helpless as a rag doll. Her skull cracked against the pavement with a sickening thud that sent lightning bolts of pain through her brain. The last thing she registered was the taste of copper flooding her mouth and the cold bite of concrete against her cheek. Darkness swallowed her consciousness once again, dragging her down into its numbing depths.
Awareness seeped in, like a creeping chill crawling up her spine. The bone-deep cold settled first, slicing through her limbs and pressing into her core. A bitter, metallic stench filled her lungs—mildew mixed with rust, the acrid bite of rotting wood, and something sharp and electric in the air.
Her vision swam as her augmented eyes flickered to life, piercing the dimness to reveal a cavernous cathedral of decay. Crumbling concrete walls stretched above, lined with shattered windows like jagged teeth, their fractured glass flickering with faint light from failing, buzzing fluorescent tubes. Shadows twisted across the damp floor, cast by rafters overhead that creaked and groaned in time with the wind's hollow whistle.
Rozeree shifted her weight, testing her restraints as the chains bit into her skin, each clink echoing through the emptiness. She strained her ears, picking up faint dripping water somewhere far off, its rhythm both maddening and grounding, reminding her she was trapped but alive.
A voice cut through the gloom, familiar yet distorted, like a half-remembered nightmare. Her muscles tensed as she recognized the source. The raven-haired woman lounged just barely in her vision, his massive frame held by a battered metal chair.
"I guarantee you have nothing I'm interested in." Vilrux's voice crackled through a speaker, distant and tinny. The sound sent ice through Rozeree's veins, her heart hammering against her ribs. Her neck burned as she strained to look behind her, muscles stretched to their limits.
"I wouldn't be so sure. I have the Mute. If you don't want her to reveal your secret or get sold to the Dreadnought, you should consider handing yourself over.."
Each word hammered against Rozeree like physical blows. She scanned her prison with desperate intensity, but there was no escape to be found. The building might be decaying, but the pipe held firm against her enhanced strength. Her heart thundered in her chest, flooding her body with adrenaline that had nowhere to go.
A weary sigh crackled through the phone's speaker, each static-laden breath twisting Rozeree's stomach into knots.
"Look, Zombie—"
"My name is Corpse," she cut him off, her voice flat and still.
Vilrux's continued, indifferent. "Do what you want. I couldn't care less."
The words struck like ice-cold shrapnel, lodging somewhere deep. Rozeree's breath hitched, and for a moment, the world narrowed to the four words that had just fractured her. This was the man who had dragged her from Graybarrow's suffocating shadows, who had promised her a life of strength, power, freedom. And now, he discarded her with a sigh, as if she'd been nothing more than an inconvenience.
Her head fell forward, her dark hair a curtain shielding her from Mountain's stare. Memories clawed their way back, her father's voice, the old ache of abandonment, each one churning in a torrent of confusion, shame, and betrayal. Was this all she was to Vilrux—just another tool, sharpened and left to rust when her purpose ran dry? What had she really gained, and what had she given up?
A whisper of defiance surfaced, faint but stubborn. You don't need him. You never did. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply to silence the hollow ache inside her chest. If she was going to survive, it would be on her own terms.
"I will give you one bit of advice though. Save yourself the trouble and let her go." Vilrux's voice carried an edge she'd never heard before. "If you value your life that is. You caught a wolf in sheep's clothing there Zombie."
The words hung in the air, a challenge, a promise, each syllable sparking through Rozeree's nerves like electricity. She closed her eyes, letting the sting of Vilrux's earlier indifference mingle with this revelation, letting it sink deep. A wolf in sheep's clothing. It wasn't a compliment. It wasn't pity. It was a fact.
Corpse remained silent, her gaze fixed on Rozeree with predatory intensity.
Rozeree's lips pressed into a thin line as she forced herself to stand taller, despite the chains. If Vilrux saw a wolf in her, then she'd make sure everyone else did too. She wasn't here to beg for salvation or to play victim. This woman wanted her weak, wanted her silent and pliant, but that wasn't who she was, not anymore.
A flicker of warmth spread through her, melting the ice his words had left. She would prove she didn't need saving, didn't need Vilrux. Not now, not ever. Her lips curled into the faintest smirk. If Corpse wanted a predator, she'd see one soon enough.
The line went dead with a sharp click, followed by the drone of a disconnect tone. Corpse's hand crushed the phone, components exploding in a shower of plastic and circuitry. Her footsteps were precise, each impact slow, controlled. Compact fingers seized her throat, crushing her flesh as she lifted her body from the ground. But the pain felt distant now, unimportant. Her metics tensed with renewed purpose. She would prove exactly why these augments had been worth the investment. Let him think I'm helpless. Let him mistake my silence for defeat.
"Value my life huh?" Corpse muttered. "You're supposed to be strong? I am the strong one."
Rozeree's augmented eyes tracked her movements, calculating. Corpse had no idea what she'd really captured. But she would learn. Rozeree would make sure the story of what happened here would spread far enough for anyone to think twice about trying it again.
After all, Vilrux given her fangs. It was time to use them.
She released her suddenly, letting her drop. The impact jolted through her frame, stealing her breath. Corpse sighed, her compact frame barely moving as she turned her back to Rozeree. The sound of her boots crossed the floor, followed by the scrape of metal on concrete as she dragged her chair back into view. She then retevied a heavy duffle bag from the far corner of the room. When it hit the ground, the sound of metal on metal echoed, a hollow, menacing clank that filled the silence. Rozeree's breath caught as she knelt and pulled out a pair of rusted pliers, their jagged edges glinting in the dim light. Her stomach twisted, and for the first time, she felt a flicker of fear prickling through her resolve.
"I've been hired to gather info on Wolf." Corpse said, her eyes never leaving Rozeree. "Location. Corporate bosses. Everything. Now."
The words slipped past her lips before she could stop them: "He works for a corporation?"
"Don't play dumb with me." Corpse raised the pliers to eye level, her gaze as cold and empty as a winter sky. "Speak. Now." Rozeree held her stare, defiance in her every muscle, her glare sharp enough to pierce steel.
Corpse's lips moved—not quite a smile, but something colder. "I will break you," she whispered.