Tanya’s hands were steady, but the world around her wasn’t. Slow motion warped the sounds—the low buzz of the tattoo gun dragging longer than it should, the distant echo of her own heartbeat thudding behind her ribs. Ink and singed flesh mixed with the iron tang of blood filled her nose.

  Mrs Eceer braced against her right side, shields locked as something heavy slammed against them, sending vibrations rattling Tanya’s arm. She didn’t flinch. Couldn’t. The needle needed to stay precise.

  The powerpack hummed against her knee, still clipped to her belt, her jeans ditched on the floor. Wires hung, snaking from it to the gun in her grip. She pressed the tip down again, just enough to break the skin, and dragged it with practised precision. The ink set almost instantly, merging with the magic already woven into her flesh. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she did. Something about this slowness sharpened her senses whilst she focused on her task. It blurred reality whenever she pulled her attention away.

  Across the street, Fahad screamed.

  Tanya gritted her teeth and pressed harder, picking up speed. The coil whined, the needle punching in and out, dots and dashes of ink turning into form. Her design had to be right. The wrong angle, the wrong depth, and the tattoo would fade or blow out on a normal job—she had no clue how that would interact with The System but she doubted it would be good.

  Mrs Eceer grunted, shields buckling under the next hit. Tanya could hear her boots scraping against the ground as she held position. The world was quickening now. Tanya could hear more reactions and feel the speed of the attacks increasing around her.

  More creatures broke away.

  Six of them were now charging straight at the boy.

  Tanya panted. She pushed harder. She didn't know how much longer Mrs Eceer could hold them back. Sweat coated Mrs Eceer’s brow. Tanya only glanced over. If she couldn’t see the look in Mrs Eceer’s eyes, maybe she could pretend Mrs Eceer was still in control.

  “Here, do me back,” Tanya said, passing to the hand. She wasn’t sure how well the hand would do, but it was her only choice. “Hold on tight.”

  Assistant gripped onto her shirt, hoisting itself up whilst Tanya stood. The buzz and pain were much starker now that she wasn't in control. She grabbed the fence post, swinging her whole body around to force the monster away from Mrs Eceer as her shield fizzled away too soon.

  This was so fuckin’ stupid. I should have stuck to the original plan.

  The hand lurched up her back, barely holding on. It swung on the back of her crop top, pulling the tattoo away at just the right second to not have a rogue line across her waist. The hand steadied itself and poked a sharp nail into her.

  “Yeah, sorry. Keep goin’.”

  She was ready for another swing, but she didn’t need one. The outline was done, but that wasn’t enough. She took the tattoo gun back and filled it in. The shading appeared with practised flicks of the needle, the vibration sinking into bone. She was desperate to stop, but the plain line art wasn’t finished. The tattoo needed to be finished for the intentions to be fully integrated. She just knew.

  Her skin burned. It wasn't just from the ink. It was the magic pushing back—waking up—latching on. Every sensation was so clear this time.

  The sword wanted out.

  She completed the final stroke.

  The needle lifted, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. The ink pulsed, shifting as it turned her skin from canvas to conduit. The pain hit a second later, raw and electric, but she was already moving.

  This must be the pain Adder felt.

  The tar-like liquid sizzled on her skin, irritating the skin centred around the ink she’d given it. The pain was far away. An overwhelming burn that she was too filled with adrenaline to fall apart from.

  This is stronger than Assistant—much stronger.

  She grabbed the hilt forming in her hand and pulled.

  It formed the same as her others—blank ink pulled from her skin and forming into the right shape—but this time, it looked watered down. The blade unfurled, its jagged edge catching the light. The sword's serrated half was humming with potential. The ribbons peeled out from where they were wrapped around her body. Suddenly, she was six again, screaming as her dad peeled off the jellyfish, unwrapping it from her knee.

  The fence post was stuffed under her arm. She’d wanted it close but needed both hands to tattoo it. She was so deep in the process that she barely remembered putting it there.

  The creatures were almost on Fahad. She grabbed Mrs Eceer’s arm and they ran.

  Her system opened automatically. She skimmed it with each thudding footstep towards them—desperate for any information on using it that could save him—save all of them.

  * * *

  Name: Phantom Brand

  Wielder: Tanya Angelo

  Type: Weapon

  Level: 1

  Attributes

  Impact: 10

  Absorption: 14

  Resilience: 1

  Abilities

  Possessive Inscription

  Can bind itself to any organic material, consuming it slowly whilst adapting to its properties. Stronger materials will resist longer before being consumed.

  Boons

  Indomitable Form

  Common Boon - The Blink of an Eye

  Whilst attacked within an organic material, Phantom Brand’s Resilience dropping to 0 doesn’t banish it. Instead, it destroys the organic casing, leaving it on 1 Resilience. However, its Resilience outside organic materials can never be greater than 1.

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  * * *

  Tanya barely had time to process the words flashing in her system. She didn’t need to. The moment Phantom Brand settled in her grip, it was an extension of her—like a part of her body she had always been missing but was now reunited with.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  She dismissed the words with a tilt of her head. If she didn’t look where she was going, there was no way they'd get the upper hand. All she remembered from skimming was its core ability—possessive something. It wanted organic material.

  Her gaze snapped to the fence post, still gripped in her other hand—splintering but solid. A thought struck her, an instinctive pull deep in her gut.

  She pressed Phantom Brand to the wood.

  The ink rippled. The blade seemed to sigh, sinking into the grain-like liquid shadow. The wood darkened, veins of deep black threading through its length. It stretched and refined itself, the jagged imperfections smoothing into something unnatural—something perfect.

  The change was slow at first, like ink bleeding across a page, then sudden, consuming. The wood shuddered in her grip, its fibres groaning as if alive. She almost dropped it, fumbling to keep it in her sweaty grip. The darkness coiled through every inch of it, billowing within the grain. Splinters pulled inward, mending, reforming, until nothing crude was left—just a single seamless weapon, a union of nature and something deeper, something that recognised her touch.

  Phantom Brand didn’t just coat the wood; it became part of it. The surface gleamed with an unnatural sheen, the lines of ink moving like veins beneath translucent bark. When she shifted her grip, the weight adjusted, balancing itself for her alone. The jagged edge sharpened further, honed past human craftsmanship, something no hand-carved blade could ever achieve. It was both impossibly light and undeniably lethal. A weapon that had never existed before.

  The creatures lunged.

  Tanya didn’t stop running. She didn’t stop to think. The street around her was chaos—shattered glass, overturned trash bins, distant screams carried on the wind. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and blood, the pavement slick with an overflowing gutter. She squelched through the muck and the last few leaves of Autumn.

  Pivoting mid-stride, she ran and yanked Mrs. Eceer with her. A sick hybrid of canine and something worse crashed down where she had been a heartbeat ago. The ground cracked under the force of its impact. Mrs Eceer braced, her arm in front of her like a medieval shield would appear there. A barrier had appeared, but it was flickering and bright yellow, something from a B-grade sci-fi movie. They met eyes and sprinted, parting the monsters together as they rushed towards Fahad.

  Fahad scrambled backwards on the floor, kicking wildly at the creatures closing in. His arm was bleeding. Tanya hadn’t even seen him be hit. It looked bad—oozing and thick with clotted sludge. His eyes were wide with terror.

  Tanya moved. The serrated edge of her transformed weapon came down in an arc, slamming into the creature’s exposed flank. It shrieked a high-pitched wail that vibrated in her bones.

  Tanya pulled her sword free as the creature spasmed, its body twitching as the ink sapped it of something vital.

  “Tanya!” Mrs Eceer’s voice snapped her out of the trance.

  She turned just in time to see a second beast bearing down on her. A golden shield shimmered into existence between them. One moment, it was there, tinting her vision with gold. The beast slammed into it, its claws skidding against the barrier. Then it was gone, and the world was grey again. Grey street, grey buildings, gnashing grey teeth in her face.

  Tanya caught Mrs. Eceer’s outstretched hand, still glowing with summoned energy.

  “Move!” Mrs. Eceer barked.

  Tanya ducked low, the edge of her blade twisting in her grip as she plunged it into the beast’s underbelly. The beast shrieked. It was all so unreal. She was doing it—surviving—but it wasn’t cool or gritty. It was disgusting and fucking terrifying.

  She pulled back, the blade dripping with something thicker than blood. It was working. But there were still three more.

  Fahad was sobbing now—a wail that tore through the air and ached in her gut. His back was to the pavement, his breath coming in ragged gasps between the cries. The creatures had him cornered.

  Tanya surged forward, vaulting over the fallen beast at her feet. Her weapon pulsed in her hands, the fusion of wood and ink humming with raw potential.

  Fahad’s eyes met hers 20 feet away, and in his eyes, she saw her brother Tommy. She faltered right as she swung.

  The blade bit deep, but her grip was off. Too much force, not enough control. The creature twisted at the last second, and instead of cleaving through, the sword lodged deep in its shoulder. Tanya’s arms jolted from the impact, her fingers nearly slipping.

  The beast roared, twisting, trying to shake her off. She yanked hard, trying to free the blade. It resisted.

  Panic surged.

  Move. Now.

  Tanya planted her foot on its ribs and shoved, wrenching the weapon free just as claws swiped through the space where her face had been. She stumbled back, her breath ragged, the weight of the weapon suddenly too real in her hands.

  A second lunge. No time to think.

  She dropped low, too low, nearly losing her footing, but the motion sent her sliding under the creature’s swinging claws as it reared onto its hind legs. She grazed both palms badly. Heart hammering, she twisted on instinct, flipping to her back and bringing the sword up in a sweeping arc.

  The blade caught under its jaw. A spray of dark ichor. A gurgling shriek. The substance splattered her face, and she gasped, spitting the liquid out of her mouth between coughs. It tasted like curdled milk.

  Tanya scrambled up, her knees slick with filth, her arms aching from the effort. She barely had time to register the kill before another beast was on her.

  She raised her weapon, but she was off-balance, too slow—

  A blue shield flared around her. The creature slammed into it with a sickening crunch. Mrs. Eceer.

  “Kill it!” Mrs Eceer ordered, voice strained. The shield flickered, already weakening.

  Tanya didn’t hesitate. She lunged, bringing the sword down with all the strength she had left. The blade tore through muscle, bone—

  The beast collapsed.

  She staggered back, chest heaving, every inch of her shaking.

  There was a moment of quiet within the bubble. The world warped through the blue sheen. She felt like she was in a fish tank. The shaky sob confused her at first. She didn't know how she could hear Fahad when the monsters hammering against the barrier were so quiet. Then she realised it was her own noise.

  She was alive. They were alive.

  Her fingers flexed around the hilt. She had done it. But her hands trembled, and her legs felt like they might give out. She wasn’t sure how many more times she could.

  The barrier flickered—once, then twice, then a third time. The gap was slightly longer each time as she strained against the distorted sounds of battle. There were still half a dozen of them. They had flesh torn away, bones revealed beneath the black goop. Some of them were hobbling on raw flesh from missing limbs. One of them was missing the bottom of its jaw. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth, lolling down its neck. They may be more injured, but their ability to fight through it was superhuman.

  “We need to move them away from him!” she yelled. She looked at Mrs Eceer, about to tell her to stay behind to protect Fahad, but Mrs Eceer’s face was as stony as her own. Black blood was splattered over her face, staining her peacock scarf with dark streaks.

  “Make them follow!” she yelled instead. Mrs. Eceer threw up another shield to cover their retreat, and they ran.

  Tanya screamed with every step. First taunts and then random noises. She could see Mrs Eceer’s mouth opening and closing beside her too, but her own noise was too much to hear over. Their screams merged together, overlapping so that there was no silence. Her throat burned, and she coughed. She dared a glance over her shoulder and saw them giving chase. Without their injuries, there was no way her or Mrs Eceer could outrun them.

  “No!” Mrs Eceer cried. She spun, creating a barrier between herself and Tanya, and the rapidly approaching monsters. It was the first shield Tanya had seen that was truly transparent. If it wasn’t for the sun creating ripples on its surface, she wouldn't have known there was anything there before.

  That’s when she saw it. There was one that stayed behind.

  Ishita ran out. One of her hands was so mangled that if it wasn’t attached to her wrist, Tanya wouldn't have identified it as a hand at all. She was covered in red and black blood. Tanya hadn’t even noticed her join the fight—a monster must have cornered her in the stairwell.

  “Mum!” Fahad choked out.

  The monster nipped at Fahad’s heels, lurching forward and back as if testing to see if it could go in for the kill.

  Mrs Eceer barrelled back towards them, pushing the shield with her shoulder like a plough. Tanya shoved both palms at the wall and pushed too, yelling to keep herself pushing through the pain in her shoulder and the fear that they wouldn’t reach him in time.

  They were still half a dozen feet away when Ishita lunged. She didn’t hesitate. She threw herself in front of her son.

  The beast’s claws sank deep. Flesh tore. Blood sprayed, painting the doorframe in thick, glistening red. Ishita gasped, a wet, choking sound. She sagged against the creature’s weight as its claws wrenched free, strands of torn muscle and viscera dragging with them. Fahad screamed. A raw, desperate sound.

  Ishita’s knees hit the ground. Her breath rattled, her chest heaving in jagged, failing attempts to pull in air. Blood bubbled at the corner of her mouth, spilling over her chin. She opened and closed her mouth, holding out a hand towards Fahad. Tanya couldn’t hear her through the gurling, but from her facial expression, she was trying to comfort him.

  Pact Redeemed with Number 146,567,398.

  Stand by for automatic Interface retrieval.

  The interface took over her vision. She only had a second to look.

  ? ? ?

  Name: Ishita Priya Sharma

  Number: 146,567,398

  Class: Martyr

  ? ? ?

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