I’m not sure what’s keeping me tethered more—the confusion of what’s happening to me or the desperation for answers. Probably both.
The weight of the day lingers like a heavy fog in my chest. Alice’s son—the boy I’m supposed to meet tonight—is the only thing cutting through it. Questions churn in my mind. Does he know more about me than Alice let on? Is this meeting just another loose end that’ll leave me hanging? Still, I can’t shake the feeling that he holds a piece of the puzzle I’ve been chasing. One more thread to pull. One more clue to who I really am.
I’m in Clova’s lab now, sitting on one of the cold steel workbenches. Caine and Data are here too, leaning against the walls with their usual contrasting energy. Caine’s pacing, all fire and impatience, while Data’s calm and calculated, typing away at a tablet. Clova’s across the room, tinkering with a scanner that hums faintly in the background.
They’ve been watching me ever since the fight with the android. Not just watching—studying. The tension is thick, and I can feel their questions bubbling beneath the surface. Then it happens. Clova sets a heavy steel bar on the workbench in front of me. “Bend it,” she says, her voice calm but insistent. I stare at the bar. “What?”
“Just try,” she replies, gesturing toward it. “If what you’re saying about the fight is true, you should be able to.” Caine snickers from the corner. “Bet he can’t.” I hesitate, feeling all their eyes on me. My hand closes around the cool metal, and I brace myself. At first, nothing happens, but then that strange heat builds in my chest again—the same sensation I felt when I fought the android. My grip tightens, and to my shock, the steel begins to give. The bar bends slowly, creaking as it warps under my strength.
The room goes silent.
Caine steps forward, his grin widening. “Okay, big guy. Let’s see how you do against me.” He pulls up a chair, slamming his bionic arm onto the table. “Arm wrestle. Let’s go.”
“Caine,” Clova starts, but he waves her off.
“It’s fine,” he says. “Just a bit of fun.”
I glance at Data, who shrugs like he’s just as curious as everyone else. I sigh, placing my arm on the table and locking hands with Caine. His grip is firm, almost crushing, and for a moment, I second-guess myself. Then Clova counts us in.
The struggle is immediate. Caine’s strength is undeniable, and his bionic arm hums faintly as it shifts into overdrive. For a moment, it feels like he might win. But then that heat flares again, spreading from my chest to my arm like a fuse igniting. Slowly, I push back against him. His grin falters.
“Impossible,” he mutters, his voice strained.
With one final burst of energy, I slam his hand down against the table. The impact echoes through the room, followed by the metallic groan of bending steel. Caine’s bionic hand has left a perfect imprint in the workbench, the edges dented inward from the force of the wrestle.
The room is silent again.
Caine stares at the table, his mouth opening and closing like he’s trying to find the right words. Finally, he bursts into laughter, though there’s a tinge of frustration in his voice.
“Well, shit,” he says, shaking his head. “Didn’t see that coming.” Deflated, he leans back in his chair as Clova ushers me toward the scanner. “We need to figure out what’s going on,” she says. “This... isn’t normal.” The scans don’t take long. The machine hums around me, its lights casting strange shadows on the lab walls. When it’s done, Clova reviews the data on her screen. Her face goes pale.
“You’re not going to believe this,” she says. “Your arm... it’s bionic?!"
“What?” I stare at her, dumbfounded.
"Yeah, bionic, wrapped in human tissue!”
Data leans over her shoulder, his eyes widening as he reads the results. “She’s right. This is... advanced. Beyond anything Arketeq has ever produced.”
Caine whistles low, still rubbing his sore arm. “Well, that explains a lot.”
I’m stunned, the words barely registering. A bionic arm? Wrapped in human tissue? I look down at my hand, flexing it slowly. It doesn’t feel any different. It feels... like me. Clova snaps me out of it. “We need to do a full-body scan,” she says, already prepping the machine. “If your arm’s like this, who knows what else we’ll find?” But before the scans can begin, my helmet chimes. A message from Alices son appears in my visor, a longer one this time: I’m at the diner.
Come now. > **LOCATION** <
“I have to go,” I say, pulling away from the scanner.
Clova protests, but I’m already out the door after issuing the command via my helmet for my bike to return to Shadowtask HQ. The weight of what I’ve just learned presses against me, but the thought of the boy pulls me forward. What if I can’t give him the answers he’s searching for?
What if his questions only bring me more pain?
