Nicolai stood atop the Radio Tower. The wind whispered around him, picking at his poncho and flaring it, a black banner. He stood alone, ready and waiting.

  In the clear space around the towers below, he saw bugs and undead tearing at one another. Even below the trees he saw them.

  But Nicolai wasn’t interested in the bugs and undead. Where the treeline began, he saw what he was looking for.

  Movement. Light flickered on metal. A single appeared and settled, standing on a branch, looking up at him.

  ‘How about you make this easy for everyone.’ The voice crackled through the tiny microphones in his ears. ‘Hand over the radio woman, and you can live.’

  Nicolai’s lips cracked in a smile. The thrill was rising through him, pouring through his limbs and plucking at them, suffusing his body with energy. Each indrawn breath felt like drinking spirits, a wonderful burning in his throat. The colours of the jungle blurred, merging and turning surreal.

  The dark was still in its cage, he’d checked, he was sure of it. And yet. Within him, his mind was coming loose. He drifted together, merging closer with Threat Analysis, and Cyberwarfare, and the Thrill.

  He spoke over the connection. He wanted to make sure the enemy was properly motivated.

  ‘I’d rather you come and kill me. I’ll be waiting.’

  ###

  The lead mercenary darted back into the cover of the tree they hunkered upon, exchanging glances with the other three. All wore armoured vests and tactical gear. They held snipers, assault rifles, and auto-shotguns.

  They wore no shoes because their deceptively spindly, overlong legs ended in metal feet, each with three huge claws that dug into the bark.

  Each of them had a human-appearing face, despite their heads being almost entirely metal, rubber and components. These faces were formed from light—a hologram—and at this moment the lights faded to reveal only cold metal, pocketed with cameras.

  ‘You heard the man,’ said the leader through his speakers. ‘Wants us to come and kill him.’ He chuckled, and the others echoed the laugh. They’d all reviewed the information Vikrum had sent about Viper and the traders, and none of them had been impressed.

  ‘He’s confident, I’ll give him that,’ said one of them.

  ‘Don’t mistake stupidity for confidence. This’ll just be a hardware-check,’ said another, referring to the concept of a higher grade-Cyborg defeating a lower without any need for skill or finesse, simply better tech.

  A dozen drones took off from where they had clung to the four, streaking through the sky towards the tower. The figure up above had disappeared.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  Jets blasted from their backs and legs and shoulders, and the group burst forward through the air, speeding through the sky over the three-hundred metres between them and the Radio Tower. They held their guns ready, bodies fixed around them, scopes and reticles centred on the areas of the tower where someone would be most likely to show themselves; the tower top, the partly destroyed lower doorway, and the window.

  They reached the tower in seconds and attached themselves to the side of it with their feet and hand claws.

  As the four lurked, drones danced around the tower.

  ‘Two ways in,’ said the Cyborg tasked with managing the drones. ‘The window, and a stairway on top that leads down.’

  Send ‘em in, said the leader, and the drones split from the main group to push through both entrances.

  Immediately, gunfire sounded from within the tower. The drones which had gone into the window were destroyed, but in the time before their destruction, they gave the four a visual on the enemy. A man who stood within the interior room of the tower, amidst what had been someones room, scattered with random radio equipment. There was no one else visible.

  ‘Looks like the main one stayed behind and the sent the others on ahead,’ spoke the leader, shaking his head. The mercenaries were surprised, but not displeased. The enemy had made the mistake of splitting their forces, perhaps in hope that while one slowed them down, the others could get away. A mistake, as these four would easily be able to catch up, and killing the split up enemy would be easier.

  The man Vikrum had told them not to underestimate had trapped himself in a room, alone, letting the four of them get into position to completely surround him, giving them freedom to dictate their attack as they wished. They shared the same thought: Amateur.

  After a pause the leader decided on the optimal method of attack, and sent his orders using wordless combat communication software.

  Two of the four climbed immediately to the top, crested, and took up positions near to the stairwell. The other two moved towards the window, taking up positions on either side of it. One of them spotted an enemy drone, and in a snap he fired a single, perfectly accurate shot that caught the drone dead-centre and sent it spinning to the ground in a smoking heap. From so close they could hear the chatter of dozens of Radios, all turned up to the max and spewing out random chatter in the room. A random barrage of noise that prevented them pinpointing the enemy via his bodies sounds, possibly the one smart move he’d made; except that he would be unable to hear them outside.

  One of the two on the top unslung a case strapped to his back, setting it on the ground. He opened it, and six tiny drones were revealed.

  After pressing a button, the drones took into the air.

  ‘Hunter killer drones ready,’ he spoke to the others over Link.

  Lower down, near to the window, the leader nodded. ‘After they soften up the target, we go in. Prepare to breach.’ Across from him, the other cyborg pulled out grenades, and the leader did the same. Above, the other two prepared to move down the stairwell.

  In this time, they also accessed their own Seeds, all of which they had placed via openings in their augmented forms to touch on the parts of them that were still human. Through this, they were able to protect and use their Seeds. Each was practised at utilising their Seed’s Soul Sense, a useful tool they had seen no reason to ignore, and which they had used to surprise enemies. So far, they had never encountered someone who made real use of the Soul Sense other than themselves, but knew to expect it from this man.

  Their Soul Senses wormed out, hunting for the enemy, feeling through the room within. For the first time, a slight tingle of unease ran through them because the sightless writhing of their Seeds Soul Senses could not find anyone within the room, but they knew he could only be there.

  ‘Send in the HKs,’ spoke the leader. Whatever he was doing to hide might work against Soul Sense, but it wouldn’t against the drones. They knew about the shimmer poncho and were ready for it.

  Hunter killer drones poured down the stairwell, their thermal-capable cameras primed to take out the first human-shaped or shimmer poncho-looking object they saw.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  ###

  Nicolai, inside Maxine’s room, was well aware of the two above and the two out the window. He was currently focused on avoiding their Soul Sense tendrils, which were crawling around. With his Cultivator’s eyes, it was easy to spot the tendrils and avoid them, which was necessary because he was unable to Shell.

  He floated in the air, and his body crackled with blue lightning, the Art ready to go. His rapier floated beside him.

  Over the chatter of the Radio’s he detected a high-pitched whirr, loud enough to be audible through them. It was a sound he recognised. Hunter killer drones, coming from the stairs. This was much as he’d expected, and he knew what would follow after the drones.

  His Soul Sense tendril, which had snaked out the window and danced as, piloted by part of Nicolai and Threat Analysis, it dodged the tendrils of the two outside, gave him vision of them. They held grenades, preparing to throw.

  Time to begin phase one. Merged with Cyberwarfare, he launched a virtual attack at the connections the enemy was using. They immediately counter-attacked, the Cyber battle beginning in earnest.

  This caused the enemy outside some trouble. They had been preparing to throw Link enabled grenades but their connection to those grenades had just been ruined. They paused, forced to fiddle with the grenades as they worked to arm them and enable manual timers.

  The whirring sound intensified as from the stairs six hunter killer drones appeared. Nicolai had tucked his poncho away as against these opponents, it would only get in the way. The drones spotted him immediately. The whirrs turned into shrieks as their motors sped to maximum and they launched themselves at him.

  Behind them, up the stairs, he heard the clatter of metal feet on stone as the two above charged down after them. That confirmed the enemy had helpfully separated, as he’d known they would—because it was the logical move for a numerically superior attacker looking to overwhelm a singular low-threat enemy, in a rapid manner allowing for no chance of escape because they were impatient to get on after their other targets.

  That was fine in principle, so long as they didn’t let that enemy put them off tempo at a crucial moment, such as by interrupting them as they went to throw grenades; and so long as that enemy was indeed low-threat and not capable of outfighting them two-on-one.

  But their analysis was off and now they were separated, their tempo momentarily out of whack, and he could deal with them in groups of two rather than a squad of four.

  Much easier.

  As the drones flung themselves towards him, he had already reached out with the Grasping Finger and caught the lip of the window with it, a pale, grasping line that moved through his Soul Sense, then wrenched his body and Soul as he activated the art, launching himself through the air and away from them.

  He knew how fast hunter killer drones could go, and knew that he was slower. That was fine because he was also much closer to the window, and he didn’t need a lot of time. He was unable to avoid the Soul Sense tendrils as he flew across the room, and knew he was giving warning to the enemy. But they were all holding grenades, not guns, and they were also flinching as his Soul Sense, significantly stronger and more capable than their lesser, Seed versions, ripped and tore at their tendrils.

  With his own tendril, he saw them drop those grenades and go for their guns. Too late; they should’ve done that the moment Cyberwarfare attacked, a few seconds ago.

  Nicolai burst out from the window. Behind him he left a grenade that spun in the air, its timer counting down to one.

  He heard the thump of the explosion and received confirmation from Cyberwarfare that all the HK drones were down, while he was twisting and reaching out with both hands. The Cyborgs were raising sidearms, PDWs—Personal Defence Weapons, like small SMGs—but they were slightly too slow. They hadn’t expected the prey to come after them, and he had come in the singular window where their guns were not readily to hand.

  With one hand he activated the Sheltering Glove shield, holding it towards the Cyborg on the left. With the other he activated the Blue Hornet’s primed Art.

  Lighting blasted from his hand and was guided through his Soul Sense in a thumb-thick bolt that cracked into the rightmost Cyborg. The Cyborg spasmed, his whole body freezing up. He came away from the wall like a statue, toppling into empty air.

  The other one sent a hail of perfectly accurate rounds into the centre of Nicolai’s shield. So many bullets, fired so quickly, and all impacting around the same place, sent huge cracks spiderwebbing through the shield.

  Even with him pouring fresh Oma into the glove and the shield as fast as he possibly could, he still knew it would break before the cyborg’s magazine ran empty.

  But Nicolai was ready for this. He was already activating the Grasping Finger once more, and this time he did not use it to launch himself. Instead he used it on a very specific target, as his Soul Sense twitched over to the left, slicing through the Cyborg’s own.

  The Grasping Finger locked around a particular part of the cyborg’s PDF; the magazine lever, and the magazine itself. Nicolai pulled and the magazine was freed and dragged towards him.

  The gunfire ended immediately, and for just a moment the cyborg stared in surprise and confusion.

  He went for his primary weapon, an assault rifle, only an instant later.

  But by then Nicolai had raised the AA-12 and gunfire exploded as he squeezed the trigger. There came a shrieking whistle as the Cyborg abruptly activated the jets in its legs and back, launching itself upwards. But Nicolai was prepared, the AA-12 already moving in prediction of this. He followed it and bullets tore into it, not a single shot missing. Unfortunately it managed to get its legs and arms between head and chest, protecting the most vital areas.

  It got over the lip of the roof and disappeared. It was still alive, but only just, and incapable of proper movement or combat. No longer a big problem. There came a crash from far below as the stunned cyborg finished its free fall and slammed into the ground, an impact Nicolai knew was likely to be fatal. All that metal was heavy, and the ground around the tower was solid, unyielding stone.

  Gunfire sounded and Nicolai raised his now recharged shield while pulling on the tower to his side, deflecting the bullets that came from the window in the time it took him to rapidly move out of the field of view of the two cyborgs within the room.

  Got them. We have a window, spoke Cyberwarfare. It had successfully wrested control over the Local, gaining ground in the battle against the cyborgs now that Nicolai had killed one and heavily pressured another.

  As he flew, he pulled two grenades, and threw them towards the window.

  The two within knew what their loss in the Local meant, and were likely already diving for cover. That was fine, because Nicolai just wanted to keep them inside and stop them shooting at him while he was exposed and in the open.

  He slingshotted himself upwards, crested the tower and took aim, but he only had time to shoot once as he saw the injured cyborg disappearing in an ungainly tumble into the stairwell.

  That was a shame but not overly problematic, the real issue was that there were a pair of cases on the ground. One was empty, but from the other rose six freshly activated hunter killer drones, letting out an ominous, insectile buzzing.

  The moment the drones cameras spotted him six sets of rotors let out screams that flung them in his direction, instantly accelerating to a high speed.

  The AA-12 and any other gun was too slow to destroy them before they hit him. The shield would be of limited effectiveness as the drones would seek to attack from multiple angles.

  He activated the shield regardless, holding it before him and pulling his feet and arms in to form a ball, his entire body behind the shield.

  During that movement, Nicolai sent Oma surging through his arm and grasped a handle that hung over his chest. The Warden’s Imbued chain whip, which was wrapped tight around his body.

  He was merged closer with Threat Analysis and Cyberwarfare than he yet had been since he regained them, and for a moment, he was not Nicolai.

  He was Zero-Twelve, and controlling these many limbs was easily within his abilities.

  The chains burst from where they clung to him, lunging from his body towards the drones just like the vines controlled by the Centipedes had lunged from the tower top. They snapped and cracked through the air, and the drones veered to avoid them. But the chains numbered in the dozens, and the drones were six.

  Only metres away from him, the drones met the chains.

  When the first drone came within inches of the chain that whipped at it, the on-board AI realised this collision was unavoidable and would be fatal. It also realised that it was almost within acceptable range to the target. So, it did what it was programmed to do. Its motors and rotors squealed as they abruptly reversed, twisting its form to aim its payload at the target, and then, a millisecond before the chain impacted, it detonated.

  The explosion was small but tightly directed. These drones were designed to get close to one of the target’s vulnerable areas and launch the payload directly into it. As the target was outside of optimal range, the drone simply aimed for centre-mass.

  This explosion was immediately followed by five more as the remaining drones encountered their own chains and went through an identical decision-making process.

  They each sprayed jets of super-heated metal, the payload, at the target.

  The drones hadn’t had time to spread wide to get around the shield before contacting the chains, but Zero-Twelve knew that regardless, the shield was not up to holding off six of these jets at once. He had already puts his limbs in between the rest of his body and the jets of metal, keeping one arm and hand angled to hold the shield in position.

  The jets hit the shield at almost the same time. The first four smashed it apart, and the last two sailed through with minimal issue.

  Slightly slowed but still travelling at over 2,000 feet-per-second, two fragmenting jets of metal slammed into Zero-Twelve.

  They smashed two great bloody holes into his shoulder and leg that sent waves of concussive force through his body, disrupting the pattern of his heartbeat and the operation of his brain.

  Zero-Twelve fell from the air, trailing blood.