Dragon was here.
With Grue down and Rachel still stuck, the Undersiders would have a hard time escaping. By my estimations they still would be able to, especially given what Tattletale was doing with the lightning gun.
But what they did from that point on didn't concern me.
My full focus was on the suit before me: a marvel of technology, lean and equipped with the strict necessary to act out against the evils of the world. This was a model that focused on speed, meant to respond to the worst of the worst. Endbringers. Nilbolg. Slaughterhouse Nine.
Its non-lethal equipment was, therefore, lacking.
I already was rushing forward as it pointed the nozzles of four foam sprayers at the lobby, ready to fully envelop the Undersiders and me. The drug pumped through my veins, making my movement a tiny fraction faster.
Just enough.
My newly acquired spear became a vortex of blue fire, the heat strong enough to burn my skin even without contact. Kid Win stopped for a moment, distracted by my utter lack of self-preservation. A mistake. One of Rachel's dogs crashed into him, sending the Ward sprawling across the floor.
Tattletale screamed something I could not hear.
The foam evaporated before it could reach me.
"Stop! You are insane! You will burn yourself alive!"
Dragon's voice was synthetic, not an actual projection of a person's speech. Huh, weird. She probably wasn't within the suit then. That made this easier. Change of plans.
She was right, however. I would not last too long if I kept this up.
Maybe it was out of concern, but the Dragon Suit did not attempt to dodge my lunge forward. Tinker-steel began glowing as it touched the blue flames.
One of the lower limbs swiped at the spear, trying to disarm me. Too slow.
I ducked under its legs, all the while flames kept spreading. I let go of the trigger for an instant to let the weapon recharge, sliding below the Dragon suit and analyzing its make.
Truly a work of art.
Bugs flew around us, far away from the flames, carrying shards of glass.
Skitter. She was quite resourceful. I imagine that she used her bugs to deliver some kind of poison or irritant to the Wards to make them scream like that, previously. Quite smart, I could probably help her find new tactics, were I to understand the mechanics of her power.
I was getting distracted. The Black Lace within me fighting against the intense pain of the burns and the previous electric-shock Kid Win had delivered.
The spear had recharged, and just in time as the Dragon Suit jumped up to remove me from its blindspot.
"Do you have a death wish!?! What are you doing!?!"
My skin was tingly and red from the burns. Pain caused from the body was an unfamiliar sensation, but one that paled in comparison to pain caused from the mind.
Dragon was concerned, the synthetic voice clearly conveying both alarm and pity. She would rather let me go than see me die. She had probably already matched my face with one within its database, as I wore no mask and my hood was down.
Her concern was a distraction. It didn't notice the Monowire latched around its hind leg.
I quickly unhooked my right armguard, the one carrying the spear. A quick hit to the power source broke its cooling cycle, making it reach criticality in a heartbeat. It would burn itself out within a second.
Not before overcharging the spear, though.
I almost smiled as the Monowire unrolling itself, sending my armguard flying towards the Dragon suit at high speed.
And with it, the spear. Which was moments away from overloading.
The night sky was lit by a blue conflagration.
■
The burning wreck of the Dragon Suit landed on a car not too far away, crushing it. We were close enough to the PRT headquarters for power to still be in the area. Some of the apartments around us lit up, people waking up after hearing the loud crash.
My body was tired, incredibly so at that point. It was hard to stand and keep my eyes open, but I managed. The drug in my veins helped.
"Y-y-you need immediate medical att-t-t-tention!" Dragon's voice came out warped from the broken speakers.
I ignored her.
The remains of the spear were attached to one of the suit's legs, still letting out occasional sparks of blue flames. I wrenched it free from the debris and got to work.
The explosion had breached the inner layer of the suit, revealing a strange organic brain at its center. Wires and pumps were connected to the fetus-like organ.
Dragon did not say anything, the smell of gas reached me as she triggered a fail-safe.
Another fire started, this one concentrated near the internals, to reduce everything inside to ashes before anyone could take a look at it. A countermeasure against the Dragon Slayers, most likely. I was too tired to care about my well-being.
I plunged my hand in the fire, skin burning as my nails tore into the soft flesh of the biological embryo. It wasn't enough. I reached out with my other hand as well.
Only two handfuls of wires survived the fire, with some of the synthetic organs attached. The skin off my hands had begun to boil, becoming charred in some spots. It would leave scarring in the long term, and in the short term it could kill me if I did not disinfect the wounds. I did not care for the aesthetic damage, but infection could prove problematic. Wrapping some bandages around the wounds, I administered some rough first aid, while ignoring the pain.
Using my elbow, I broke the window of an intact car near me. It was close enough that it only took some leverage to offload the wreck of the dragon suit. Sure, the internals were gone, but I could easily make use of the raw materials as well, the tinker-steel of the outer shell being much better than anything I had access to. There were no doubt trackers inside, but I could deal with them later.
It didn't take much effort to jumpstart the car. I drove back away into the night, not stopping to say farewell to the Undersiders.
■
I took refuge in one of the few sewers in the city that hadn't been totally flooded. Or maybe it had, but someone had gone and drained it. It mattered little.
Hands still bleeding, I went to work and slowly disassembled every part of Kid Win's and Dragon's tech. Like with what I had stolen from Squealer, it wasn't understanding the logic behind the technology that I struggled with, rather there was a part of the process that I simply could not imitate. Not even partially.
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Still, it was enough to spot each of the trackers. Some were very well-hidden, especially when it came to Dragon's tech: her work was beyond what most of my world could manage. It impressed me.
Before I could continue my thought, I noticed something at the edge of my vision. Something shifting in the dark, too small to be a person. My first thought went to Skitter, but I should have been well outside her known range, and even if that wasn't the case then why would she use such a large bug to keep track of me?
It moved again, slowly. It was dipping under the surface of the water, hiding beneath the filth and darkness.
The third time I saw it I did not hesitate: the gunshot echoed through the empty tunnel. Some sparks flew over the water, then the 'thing' floated to the surface. Dead? No. Broken was the correct word.
Stepping closer, I used part of Kid Win's spear to push the device closer. The moment I saw the concerning amount of needles and claws I decided that I would continue to keep my distance.
I quickly improvised a small flashlight from what I had available, and looked in concern at the mechanical box with legs that had been moving. It was the signature device of a Tinker that was out of my league. Someone that I was planning to take out further down the line.
Bonesaw.
■
Out of breath, I threw the last pieces of scrap over the edge, into the depths of the water. With it were all of the trackers present in the equipment. My fingers stung as some blood began to leak through the bandages. I would need to change them, and soon.
Later.
I stepped back into my workshop and glanced at my look.
All that remained was the raw material, without any GPS or anything else that could be used to trace me. The drug had long since gone out of my system, and with that pain became an ever-present companion.I underestimated how distracting it could be. Nothing that I couldn't ignore if it came down to it, but I had a newfound respect for what humans dealt with on a day to day basis. In principle I knew of pain, but knowing and feeling are different things.
Bloodstained bandages stuck to my hands all the way up to the elbows. I had avoided an infection for now, and that was enough.
Nothing remained of Squealer's car, except the tires. What could be repurposed was repurposed and so its usefulness had come to an end.
The same could not be said for what awaited me inside the freezing container on the side. That thing took more power than most everything else combined in the workshop.
It was placed near a long stretcher. Where I would lay.
Picking up some plastic wrap I began the tiresome process of wrapping everything, then passed with some chemical substances to guarantee as much sterility as I could.
Finally, I tore away the sweaty and bloodied clothes I had worn for the attack. Standing naked there, I took a deep breath. My muscles still hurt, the consequence of the shock combined with the drawback from the drug.
Taking out the small cylinder from the freezer, I placed it on a tray near the stretcher. On it were also a scalpel, a couple rags, and a mounted mirror.
I tied my hair up on the front, to the side. I should have shaved bald, but a part of me didn't want to, so I only made sure that they wouldn't block my vision during the upcoming operation.
Scalpel in hand, and a second mirror in the other, I observed the pale skin of my nape. I applied some antiseptic solution with a pad, pointed the scalpel.
With pinpoint precision I began cutting. A square patch of my skin was peeled away. Then muscles.
This needed perfect accuracy. Each push of strength was perfectly weighed and calculated. Blood began pouring from my neck, falling down my back and to the sides, onto the plastic wrap below.
I felt the hand holding the mirror begin to shake, and soon enough the one holding the scalpel joined. I had reached my target. The shaking was due to the small nerve damage I had intentionally inflicted. It would soon be replaced by numbness then paralysis if I let it be.
Without panic I pressed a button to the side of the cylinder. It opened up, revealing a tangle of wire and small needles, with a larger syringe at the center. Inside there was a liquid, holding a barely visible chip. The most important implant of the twenty-first century.
Hands still shaking, I brought the cylinder near my nape, using the mechanism inside to make sure I did not put it in the wrong spot. Then I laid on my front, face down, and let the implant get to work.
My program quickly took over everything. Needles moved on their own, finding their position near the base of my neck and quickly piercing flesh. It felt like having a razor underneath my skin, cutting away at nerves and veins. I felt the muscles in my jaw tighten, and my limbs began to move on their own.
I could not control it. This was a seizure. I fell off the stretcher, hitting the hard ground with a loud thump. Blood was pooling beneath me. The only part of me that I still had control over were my eyes, but still I did not blink, calm.
The metal felt cold against my skin, against my bone. Soon I could not feel my limbs anymore even as they trashed against the cold ground. It probably wasn't helping the wounds over my hands.
The program finished. My body went still.
Finally I took back ownership of my limbs as strength returned to them, slowly.
I struggled to stand, slipping on the blood a couple of times and falling on my knees.
Eventually I managed, using the stretcher as leverage.
I took another deep breath.
My hand went to my nape, massaging the new implant. The metal felt strange against my finger. There, I also felt the two ports that were now directly connected to my nervous system.
This was quite a rudimentary cyberware when compared to what should be available to me. Instead of nanomachines, I had to opt for self-steered neural wires, and so the implant was far from perfect.
It mattered little. With time I would improve upon it, when resources would be made available.
The Neural Processor was installed.