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"Target detected. Third floor. Moving."
Alpha's voice cuts through my skull before I'm halfway up the stairs. Cold. Flat. Like she's reading a grocery list.
"I have a delivery," I whisper. Mrs. Park. Fourth floor. Dumplings and spring rolls. Twenty-three bucks plus tip.
I need the twenty-three bucks.
"Irrelevant. Threat priority overrides civilian task."
"I'm not—"
My legs move. Not my choice. My knees take the stairs two at a time, my body following Alpha's commands like I'm a puppet on strings.
I hear it before I see it.
Wet crunching. Then a scream that cuts off halfway.
Third-floor landing. Door to 3C is open.
Something's eating Mr. Zhao.
It's bigger than the subway one. Wolf-sized. All sharp angles, crystal shards catching the hallway light and throwing it back in cold blue streaks. Its teeth—if you can call them teeth—are buried in his chest.
My stomach flips. I taste acid.
"Engage," Alpha says.
My right arm opens.
No warning. Skin splits down the middle. Silver plates fold outward, locking into place. A blade extends from my wrist. It hums. Vibrates.
I didn't tell it to do that.
"I can't—"
"You will."
The bug's head snaps toward me. Those hollow pits fix on me. It drops Mr. Zhao. His body hits the floor with a sound I'll hear in my sleep.
The bug moves.
Fast.
I barely get my arm up before it's on me. Jaws snap inches from my face. I smell something burnt. Chemical. My blade catches its teeth. The impact rattles up my shoulder.
I'm not strong enough for this. I'm a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. I skipped the gym for three years. I can't—
My body moves anyway.
Alpha drives me forward. My blade cuts upward, catches the thing's jaw, slices through crystal like paper. The bug screeches. The sound drills into my ears. Makes my eyes water.
It lunges again.
I dodge left—no, Alpha dodges left. I'm just along for the ride.
My free hand grabs a chunk of broken railing. I don't remember picking it up. I swing. Connect with the bug's side. Crystal cracks. Shards spray across the floor.
The bug's tail whips around.
Catches me in the ribs.
I slam into the wall. Pain explodes through my side. Can't breathe. My vision goes white.
"Get up."
Alpha's voice. Still cold.
I try. My legs don't work. My chest is on fire. Is the metal heart keeping me alive or killing me?
Doesn't matter. The bug's coming again.
It leaps.
I roll. Barely. The bug's claws gouge the floor where my head was a second ago. I'm on my back now. It's on top of me. Its weight pins me down. Jaws open wide. Rows of jagged crystal teeth.
This is it. I'm dead. I'm—
My blade punches through its throat.
I don't remember moving my arm. But it's there. Buried to the hilt.
The bug convulses. Goes rigid.
Then it shatters. Falls apart into a thousand pieces. Like someone dropped a glass sculpture.
I lie there. Breathing. Or trying to. My ribs scream every time my lungs expand. My arm's still a blade. Blood—my blood—drips from my mouth. I bit my tongue.
"Target neutralized," Alpha says. "Retrieving combat data."
My blade retracts. Plates fold back into my arm. Skin closes over them. No scar.
Like it was never open.
I sit up. Mr. Zhao isn't moving. I know he's dead. I saw what the bug did to his chest.
I should call someone. Ambulance. Police. Something.
But Alpha's already pulling my attention somewhere else.
One of the crystal shards is glowing.
Small. Size of a quarter. Sits in the middle of the pile of broken bug.
I reach for it. My fingers close around it. It's warm.
Alpha scans it. I feel the scan. A cold tingle that runs from my fingertips up my arm, into my chest. Into the metal heart.
"ID tag detected," Alpha says. "Military origin. Serial X-07."
I stare at the shard. There's something etched into it. Tiny letters.
X-07.
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Classified. You don't have clearance."
"It's in my hand."
"Irrelevant."
I want to throw the thing across the room. I don't. I slip it into my pocket instead. My delivery bag's still on my shoulder. Dumplings and spring rolls.
Mrs. Park's probably pissed by now.
I look at Mr. Zhao one more time.
Then I stand. My legs shake. My ribs hurt. My arm feels wrong. Like it's not mine anymore.
I climb the stairs to the fourth floor.
Mrs. Park opens the door before I can knock. Eighty-something. White hair in a bun. Floral bathrobe. She takes the bag. Hands me three crumpled dollar bills.
"You're late," she says.
"Yeah. Sorry."
She shuts the door.
I walk back down the stairs. Past 3C. Past Mr. Zhao.
I don't look. Can't.
My phone buzzes. Vera.
I answer.
"Where the hell have you been?" Her voice is sharp. Tight. The voice she uses when she's scared and doesn't want to admit it. "There was an attack. Subway. They're saying—"
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure? Because the news is saying there were casualties and you weren't answering and—"
"I said I'm fine."
Silence.
Then she sighs. "Okay. Okay. Just... come home. Please. I made soup."
"Yeah. On my way."
I hang up.
Alpha speaks again. "Two more targets detected. Northeast sector. Residential area."
"I'm going home."
"Negative. Targets are priority."
"I don't care."
"You don't have a choice."
My legs start moving. Not toward home.
Toward northeast.
I clench my fists. The crystal shard digs into my palm through my pocket. X-07. Military origin.
I'm not military. I'm a dropout with three jobs and a sister who makes soup.
But something's wearing my body now.
And it has a mission.
I walk into the night. Alone. The metal heart in my chest beats steady. Cold.
Doesn't miss a step.