"Hold still, or I’ll carve this thing into your spine by hand," Sloane hissed.
Her grip on my shoulder was like a vice, pinning me against the damp concrete of the alley wall. I could feel the heat radiating off her, the sharp scent of ozone and expensive gun oil clinging to her gear. My own body was a mess—genes glitching, muscles twitching in a rhythm that didn't belong to me. Every few seconds, a spike of white-hot agony shot through my chest, making my vision blur into neon smears.
"What the hell is that?" I gasped, glancing at the small, obsidian-black chip she was holding. It looked like a sliver of frozen shadow, humming with a frequency that made my teeth ache.
"A combat override," Sloane said. She didn't look at me. Her eyes were locked on the port at the base of my skull, her fingers tracing the edge of the socket. "Illegal, unstable, and likely to fry your brain in ten seconds. But it's the only thing that'll stop your system from collapsing before the Enforcers find us."
"You're going to put *that* in me?" I tried to pull away, but she slammed her palm against my chest, shoving me harder into the wall. The air left my lungs in a sharp wheeze.
"Shut up," she snapped, her face inches from mine. I could see the gold flecks in her irises, the cold precision of a predator. "You don't have a choice, Kael. Either you take the plug, or you become a very expensive puddle of genetic sludge on this sidewalk. Which one sounds better?"
"I hate you," I managed to choke out.
"Get in line," she whispered.
She didn't wait for a second answer. Sloane’s hand slid up to the nape of my neck, her fingers cold and steady. The contrast of her skin against my feverish heat sent a jolt through me that had nothing to do with the glitch. For a second, the world narrowed down to the pressure of her body against mine, the way her breath hitched just slightly as she aligned the chip with my port.
"Don't fight it," she warned. "If you spasm now, I can't pull it out."
Then she shoved it in.
It wasn't a slide; it was an invasion. A scream ripped from my throat, but it sounded distant, like it was coming from another room. My nervous system didn't just accept the chip—it devoured it. I felt a surge of electricity blast from the base of my brain down to my fingertips, rewriting every cell in my body in a heartbeat.
I didn't fall. I didn't faint. I felt... awake. For the first time in my life, the noise in my head stopped. The constant, grinding static of my fragmented memories vanished, replaced by a crystalline clarity so sharp it felt like a blade.
I pushed off the wall, moving so fast Sloane actually jumped back. I didn't even realize I'd moved until I was standing three feet away, my muscles humming with a power that felt predatory. I looked at my hands. They weren't shaking anymore.
"Holy shit," I whispered. My voice sounded different. Deeper. Controlled.
Sloane recovered quickly, her hand returning to her holster, though she didn't draw. She was scanning me, her eyes narrowing. "Check your HUD. Tell me what you see."
"I don't have a HUD," I said, then blinked. Suddenly, a translucent gold overlay flickered into existence across my vision. Numbers, heat maps, and structural weak points of the surrounding buildings streamed by in a blur of data. I could see the heartbeat of a stray cat three alleys over. I could see the electrical current humming inside the walls.
"I see... everything," I said, turning to her.
Sloane stepped closer, her expression a mix of professional curiosity and genuine wariness. She reached out, her fingers hovering just an inch from my chest, as if checking if I were still solid. The tension between us shifted. The fear was gone, replaced by something heavier, something that made the air feel thick.
"You're a natural host," she murmured, her voice losing some of its edge. "Most people's brains would have melted. You just... absorbed it. Why is your body doing that?"
"Maybe I'm just built different," I joked, though my heart was hammering against my ribs. I stepped into her space, testing the boundary. I could smell the rain on her jacket, the faint scent of vanilla hiding under the metallic tang of her gear. "What happens now? Do I get a manual?"
"Now," she said, her voice regaining its hardness as she stepped back and grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the street, "we move. That chip wasn't just a stabilizer. It's a beacon. The moment it synced with your genome, it sent a handshake signal to the nearest relay."
I froze. "A handshake? You mean—"
"I mean you just told every Enforcer in a five-block radius exactly where you are," Sloane interrupted. She didn't let go of my arm; her grip was tight, her palm warm through my sleeve. "And judging by the sirens I can hear starting to scream, they're not coming to give you a tour of the city."
I listened. Far off, but getting closer, the high-pitched wail of interceptor sirens tore through the neon haze of the slums.
"You lied," I snapped, wrenching my arm away. "You said this would save me!"
"It did save you," she countered, her eyes flashing. "You're alive. Now the question is whether you're fast enough to stay that way. Move!"
We sprinted. I didn't even feel the exertion. My legs felt like pistons, the ground blurring beneath me. I was faster than her—significantly faster—but I kept pace, glancing at her as she navigated the labyrinth of the slums with practiced ease.
"Where are we going?" I yelled over the wind.
"A safe house. Or a hole in the ground. Whichever one doesn't have a thermal scanner!" she shouted back.
We dove behind a stack of rusted shipping containers just as a spotlight swept over the alley, a blinding white beam that turned the rain into needles of light. I pressed my back against the metal, my breathing shallow. Beside me, Sloane was crouched low, her weapon drawn, her shoulder pressing into mine.
I could feel her heart racing. Not from fear—from adrenaline.
"They're closing the perimeter," she whispered, her lips almost touching my ear. The proximity made my skin prickle. "If we move now, we can slip through the ventilation shafts of the lower district. But we have to be perfectly synced. If your gene-signature spikes, the sensors will pick us up in a second."
"How do I stop it from spiking?" I asked, looking at her.
Sloane looked at me, her gaze dropping to my mouth for a fraction of a second before snapping back to my eyes. "Skin contact. Direct and sustained. Your body needs my stability to mask the signal."
I stared at her. "You're kidding."
"Do I look like I'm kidding?" she asked, her voice a low growl.
Just then, the screech of tires echoed at the end of the alley. A black interceptor vehicle slid into view, its headlights cutting through the dark like twin blades. A voice boomed over a loudspeaker, distorted and cold.
"Subject Zero. Surrender now and your termination will be painless."
Sloane grabbed my hand, her fingers interlocking with mine, squeezing hard. The moment our palms met, a wave of calm washed over me, the jagged edges of the chip's power smoothing out. It was an addictive feeling, a magnetic pull that made me want to lean into her, to never let go.
"Don't let go," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sirens. "Not until I tell you."
I gripped her hand back, my pulse syncing with hers. We stepped out from the shadows, moving toward the vent, but as I did, a sharp, digital chime echoed in my head.
I stopped dead.
"What is it?" Sloane asked, sensing the change in my tension.
I looked down at my wrist. A small, red light had appeared under my skin, blinking in a rhythmic, hungry pattern. It wasn't the chip. It was something deeper. Something that had been waiting for the chip to wake it up.
"Sloane," I whispered, my voice trembling. "The chip... it's not just a stabilizer."
"What do you mean?"
I looked up at her, the red light in my wrist now pulsing in time with my heartbeat, sending a signal that I knew was being received by something much worse than the Enforcers.
"It's a key," I said. "And I think I just unlocked the door."