Chapter 14: A Seeker's Dance

Raindrops and blood mix on neon-lit streets as a Seeker battles for control—of the fight and of their own fractured identity.

Darkness, suffocating and disorienting, clung to the walls of the square.

Cold, unfeeling raindrops splattered against the ground, each droplet a small mirror reflecting the bleak surroundings, echoing the despair that weighed heavily on the Seeker's heart.

A heart now cold and metallic, beating in time with the hum of their djinn-driven energy, a constant reminder of their unnatural existence.

The air crackled with tension, electric and dangerous, as the poorly armed opportunists emerged from the shadows, their eyes hungry for the prize that was the Seeker's downfall.

The darkness seemed to laugh, mocking the futility of their efforts. But still, the stack rats attacked, driven by greed and the promise of power.

<Metal heart beats strong,
In shadows, our fate is sealed,
Rain whispers sorrow.>

Murmured the machine, its obsessive need for control shielded in poetry, as it ceded well over 96% of control to their baser more vicious human side.

The Seeker's cybernetic exoskeleton whirred to life, an extension of their human thoughts and desires.

Their enemies, faces twisted in anger and greed, lunged at them, weak human fists and makeshift weapons flying.

Djinn-fuelled power surged within the Seeker, a force that defied the laws of nature, bending reality to their combined will. Time stuttered, slowed, as if the universe itself held its breath, watching and waiting.

<Crashing waves of time,
The dance of life and death starts,
Silent cries unheard.>

The first attacker lunged, a crude blade moving through air like molasses, the cold steel glinting in the dim light.

The Seeker's arm moved with inhuman precision, the exoskeleton's servos whirring, as it intercepted the blade with ease.

The cybernetic power, synthetic adrenaline and artificial ATP, pulsed through human veins. And with a motion blurred to the attacker's eyes, the seeker reversed his momentum, and sent the hapless man crashing into unforgiving concrete.

The Seeker fought back with fierce determination. But as the fight wore on, the human heart couldn't shake the feeling of unease that crept over it.

It wasn't just the fact that they were outnumbered; but the knowledge that every punch and kick they, he with majority control he was a person, landed was being recorded by the machine.

Adding to the man's already extensive record.

He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, controlled, and manipulated.

<Painful steel kisses,
An embrace of cold, hard fate,
The ground claims its prize.>

The rain continued its merciless downpour, oblivious to the chaos unfolding within the bloodied square. The Seeker danced like a shadow, a ghost, his movements fluid and deadly as metal as he dismantled the ambushers, one by one.

Bone cracked beneath the force of his blows, and crimson joined the rainwater, swirling into the darkness below.

His own body exceeded its limits, pushing beyond what was humanly possible. A debt, a debt, that must be repaid.

<Broken, bloody rain,
Echoes of a life once lived,
Now lost in the storm.>

Each impact, each flicker of power, etched itself into the Seeker's consciousness, the brutality of his own actions reflected in the fractured mirror of his soul.

The sheer addictive power wove its way through the slow-motion chaos, tearing through flesh and bone, leaving a trail of mangled bodies in its wake.

He was the power, he wove the power, and shaped it into brute force. Anticipated attacks visualized in his field of view, he dodged and repositioned before they fell. Always ahead, always out of harm.

Nearly always. A slice, then another. A blow. Blunt and cruel.

<Shattered, twisted forms,
A dance of death's cruel design,
Silent screams linger.>

His body trembled with the chemical overload of his endocrine system, the endorphins straining against the limits of his cybernetic form.

The last of the attackers fell, and his eyes caught a glimpse of his true target, turning a corner.

Their eyes met for a moment.

Murph's identity was confirmed, details of his record and his Numbers affiliation streaming down the left side of the Seeker's view.

The man spun and fled, staggering and stumbling as he sprinted away.

A cruel twist of fate, his body betraying him just as victory was within his grasp. The Seeker staggered, his wounds demanding attention, threatening to consume him.

He knew he must find a safe place to recover, to tend to the damage inflicted upon his body, before he could continue his relentless pursuit.

<In the dark he hides,
A wounded beast seeks shelter,
To hunt another day.>

He faltered, standing and swaying, his metal skeleton holding him upright.

< Resuming standard protocols >

"They were just stealing to eat," they said, no longer a him but simply a joined being. They/them. He no more.

< Or feed other needs, > the machine half replied.

"Have pity for people who must scratch out a living here."

< Let's move on, we’ve filed a report and noted the location with CorpSec. Move on before locals form a mob and this becomes a political incident. Century City is just across the highway, we cannot afford a dip in opinion there.>

"Copy that."

< I'll lead you to a place of shelter. >

"Track Alpha target in the meantime," they said as their vision constricted, their hearing muted and pain crept up from every aching joint.

< Drones en route and spies in the Net already sniffing. >

An image of multiple elements circling in on Murph and Omni gave the Seeker a measure of calm grim anticipation.