I awoke in the middle of the night, heart pounding. My bio monitor beeped indicating I was in an elevated amount of stress and was currently scanning to determine why. I suspected I knew why, and a slick wetness on my inner thighs confirmed it. I had been having a steamy dream and it had apparently triggered my pheromone implant and I was chemically turning myself ravenous in my sleep. It was a known side effect of the S1R3N module, Synthara tech I remembered, when the sleep cycle limiters drifted. It was a hiccup with the firmware that amplified pheromone secretions instead of dampening them. Luckily I was alone in the room, and it could easily transmit the effects to others in the immediate area.

  [S1R3N CRITICAL ALERT]

  !! CHEMICAL FLOOD DETECTED !!

  Hormonal cascade: 340% baseline

  Pheromone emission: MAXIMUM

  Override control: UNAVAILABLE

  Suggested action: CONTACT LICENSED SYNTHARA TECHNICIAN

  My body tingled from head to toe, I wasn’t sure how long the reservoir of enhanced pheromones had been leaking but the effects were clear. My chest was heavy, my muscles twitched and spasmed, and my sheets were soaked under my legs. My internal systems were kicking in to try and alleviate the effects, but there was a quicker solution. I grasped for the handle of the drawer of my nightstand, knocking over a few empty water bottles and soda cans. My legs twisted rubbing my thighs together as I rummaged for the small black velvet drawstring pouch. I looped a finger through one of the strings and pulled it from the drawer, quickly retrieving the small silicone covered rosebud from within.

  I held the button down and the air-pulse toy came to life, thankfully it was charged. I spread my legs wide and pressed the toy against my clit, sending waves of chemically enhanced pleasure through my whole body. My hips rocked, my back arched, and I moaned loudly despite the thin walls of the Hive. I felt absolutely feral, moaning and gasping as I rolled around in the bed waiting for the sensations to ease. About twenty minutes later, after my third orgasm, I collapsed and caught my breath as I finally regained control of my senses. My cheeks burned as I heard someone banging their fist on the wall from a neighboring apartment.

  [S1R3N SYSTEM INTERRUPT]

  Kill-switch engaged.

  ...

  ERROR: Incomplete shutdown. Please reboot.

  Residual broadcast: ACTIVE @ 27%

  CorpNet Alert: Asset activity logged to OmniCore servers.

  “Fuck…”

  I rebooted the S1R3N module now that it had finally eased off enough for me to think straight. It recalibrated and started absorbing the remaining chemicals from my internals. I didn’t want to make an appointment with Synthara, they were always too expensive, so I had to hope that Saint could tweak the firmware enough to fix the glitch. It didn’t happen often, but it would increase in frequency overtime once it started if it wasn’t fixed, replaced, or removed. I chugged a bottle of water and easily managed to go back to sleep after all that.

  ———————————————————————

  I woke up much earlier than I cared for the next day so that I could shower and get dressed before my meeting at Omni. I recalled that my implant malfunction from last night had been logged in my activity logs and wasn’t looking forward to that conversation. Reviewing my logs with my handler was never fun, but that one was going to be like twisting a knife in my ribs. OmniCore had advised against that particular implant despite its usefulness for my style.

  I sat in a personal escort craft, the seats were plush and comfortable and it was lined with more armor than should feasibly be able to fly. It was like crossing a bumblebee with a tank. These crafts were usually used to shuttle executives around the city above the violence in the city, and they dripped with corporate branding. Since this one belonged to OmniCore, the whole pod was sleek and silver with cobalt blue accents and lights so that everyone knew not to screw around. Some of the other corps occasionally lost a craft to rivals or even gangs trying to get hostages for ransom, but Omni was typically left untouched. No one wanted that kind of heat coming down on their gig.

  The pod circled the massive looming tower that made up OmniCore HQ. The building was garish to say the least, a chrome silver monolith of opulence crested with that damn blue eye. As the craft tilted to descend to the landing bay, I caught my reflection in the glass as it overlay the massive logo. For a moment it appeared to be stamped onto my face, as if the tower wanted to blur the line between where I ended and Omni began. The craft docked with a muffled thunk and the doors hissed open. I climbed out and made my way into the cold lobby that smelled of sterilizer and polished stone.

  A few employees passed and moved away quickly without so much as a glance in my direction. It was like they were scared of me, or they were paid not to acknowledge me. A large bipedal robot stepped in front of me as I cleared the metal detector and scanned my system. A holo-screen flared above one of the reception desks across the lobby and blazed my designation in the usual blue corp color. ASSET: NYX-3117 was all it said, indicating that I needed to move to that station when the droid stepped away. They used real names for the employees, but not me. No matter how many times I’d been here that screen never displayed ‘Amara Dahl’ because to them she didn’t exist anymore.

  I grunted and walked to the indicated desk, my thick boots clomping loudly against the marble floor. My fists clenched tightly inside my pockets out of view, I fucking hated everything about this place. Notifications scrolled in my HUD as my system was signed into the internal network of the building for tracking and security purposes. Regular employees would have full access to their personal computers and other network resources, all I got was a map that showed me exactly where to go so I wouldn’t stray to places I wasn’t allowed to be.

  “Checking in.” I said through clenched teeth.

  The receptionist didn’t even look up from her datapad to acknowledge me. She tapped a few things, and the map and path appeared in my HUD.

  “Asset Nyx-3117. Report to handler.” She finally spoke, still not looking at me.

  She barely sounded human, and I wondered why they even bothered having employees manning the front desk. Everything was pretty much automated for them as far as I could tell. I flicked my lip ring with tongue a few times as I sighed and walked away. I wanted to go ahead and get this over with so I could hit the clinic and see Saint about my recent… malfunctions.

  I passed clusters of regular employees as I walked to the elevators, all dressed in silver and blue accented outfits to show their loyalty. A few of them visibly trembled if I stepped too close to them and I couldn’t help but chuckle. They may not know my name, but they knew what I was. It sickened me, but at the same time made me feel powerful. Most of these fools had barely any implants, I could reach over and snap them in half with minimal effort if I was so inclined, and I thought about it more than once when some of them turned their nose up when I passed.

  I jabbed a knuckle into the call button for the elevators, and waited for one to arrive. The doors opened and a handful of people filtered out before I stepped inside. A couple men in flashy suits started to enter before the doors closed but quickly backed out once they realized I was inside. I gave them the finger and held the door close button. It was hard to believe that my parents used to work here, they didn’t seem like they could have had anything in common with these cowards.

  I arrived at the designated floor and took a deep breath to prepare myself for the meeting I would be walking into. I walked down a quiet carpeted hallway towards her office. A door to the side opened as I passed and I found myself looking down at a man I’d never seen up here before. His short brown hair was perfectly combed and styled. His skin was incredibly smooth, as was his very neutral grey suit. Nothing stood out about his appearance, save for the grey eyes that I barely noticed behind the flickering lights of his HUD which seemed very active.

  “Greetings, hope your day is going well.” A flat neutral voice spoke.

  I almost jumped when he spoke, it was so blunt and bland. I then noticed the name plate above the coat pocket that read ‘R709’ and my pulse quickened. A damn Umbra Rep. These were the mysterious agents of the Umbra from Ghostport, and I had never seen one in person before. It looked human, but something was off. Even up close it was hard to tell the difference.

  “Uh… yeah. Thanks. You too.” I blurted.

  His head twitched slightly as if processing my answer. I barely caught the color change in his left eye as the microscopic projections of his HUD inside his cyber-eye shifted and appeared to be scrolling tons of information at breakneck speed.

  “Thank you. I have places to be, toodle-loo!” he replied, gesturing past me.

  I realized I was standing in the doorway blocking his path to the elevator.

  “Oh, right. Sorry!” I said, stepping aside quickly.

  Toodle-loo? I thought. Who says that? I watched him as he made his way into the elevator and stood in the exact center, staring up the hallway as the door closed. For a split second it seemed like he was staring at me. I shuddered and turned around.

  “…what the fuck?” I whispered as I approached my destination.

  The door opened to a clean room full of standing panels of glass arranged near a polished wooden desk. Vera Korrin, my handler, stood nearby tapping furiously at her datapad as streams of information poured across the glass panels she used as monitors. She wore a furiously immaculate white suite with neon blue trim. Her hair was jet black and always swept back in a perfect bun, not a single strand out of place. Her pale skin was also flawless, with a faint chrome sheen, indicating she had some kind of protective dermal plating under her synthetic skin. Her cold focused augmented eyes were cobalt blue, as was her lipstick. She’d be beautiful, if she wasn’t such a bitch.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  I received a system notification that recording was in progress as soon as I stepped into the room. She didn’t look up from her datapad, but gestured coldly for me to sit in the chair at her desk. I sighed and complied, eager to be done with all of this.

  “Asset Nyx, report.” She uttered in a cold, steady voice.

  “Job’s finished. Target neutralized.” I answered flatly.

  Another corpse for their ledger. Another night with blood on my hands, far removed from their profit margins. I thought.

  “Collateral?” she asked, still not looking up from her work.

  “Minimal. Just a nobody that got nosy as we walked to his place from the bar.”

  Wrong place, wrong time, but he was asking questions.

  “Unacceptable…” she started.

  I felt a tingle in my neck, she enjoyed reminding me of the deadly leash hardwired to my spinal column.

  “OmniCore property cannot be compromised by inefficiency.” She continued.

  I gritted my teeth, wanting to snap at her but trying to stop myself from giving her the pleasure.

  “I eliminated the target, and ensured there were no loose ends. Isn’t that what matters?”

  “Execution was expected. There whould not have been loose ends to address had you performed better. Efficiency is the metric. You will learn.” She smirked.

  “Well, I still got the job done.” I grumbled.

  “Barely. Assets are replaceable. You are valuable because OmniCore chooses to value you. Never forget that, 3117.”

  My adrenaline surged. I clenched my fists, imagining her flawless white suit soaking itself red with her own blood.

  “There is another matter.” She interrupted, sliding a datachip across the table. “Rogue asset. Stolen tech. You will recover it.”

  I reached over and picked up the chip, slipping it into my pocket. It was uncommon for them to use anything that might be traceable outside the network. Physical media was a glaring risk that raised a few flags.

  “That’s it? No context?” I asked.

  “Context is irrelevant. Orders are not.” She scoffed. “Anything you need to know will obviously be on the chip. Another asset has already been dispatched. Consider this a test.”

  “And if I accidentally cut down this ‘other asset’?” I growled.

  She looked up for the first time and her cold eyes locked with mine.

  “Then OmniCore will know you were the sharper blade. We don’t discourage competition, Nyx. Only failure.”

  I blinked. That wasn’t the response I expected, but I wasn’t surprised. She had already said assets were expendable. I stood up and tilted my head towards the door asking to be dismissed, she answered with a nod.

  “One last matter, Nyx.” She interrupted. “Your activity log flagged an anomalous event during your rest cycle. Unapproved tech issue. At zero-zero-thirteen hours, your S1R3N module discharged at three hundred and forty percent above baseline. Override failed. Nine-point-two meters broadcast radius.”

  I froze, I was hoping she’d ignore the flag. I should have known better.

  “A simple malfunction. It happens. I made it in today without issues, didn’t I?” I muttered through a tightening jaw.

  “Malfunctions are inefficiencies. Inefficiencies are liabilities. Omni advised against that module for precisely this reason.” She retorted calmly.

  “It’s effective when I want it to be.” I replied.

  “Useful is not the same as efficient.” She smirked, “If it compromises control, we will have it stripped.”

  “Try it!” I blurted.

  The threat hung in the air, dangling between us as Vera smiled coldly.

  “See to your assignment Nyx. You are already behind.” She said, gesturing to the door.

  I fumed and stormed out of the room. I could barely contain myself and as I caught my reflection in the glass I realized it showed on my face. She knew she had gotten to me and was probably loving every second of it. I’m nothing but a weapon to them, a pet on a leash. One day that leash will snap, but I’ll still have teeth.

  I needed to get some fresh air. Luckily, I had to exit the main building and cross the plaza to get to the MechanoDoc lab. I stormed into the elevator and a young man literally jumped out, I don’t think it was even his floor. I took deep breaths to try and calm myself. Every conversation with Vera inevitably pissed me off, I couldn’t help it. She treated me like property, hell she often referred to me as such. She had my psychological profile, she knew how to get under my skin, it had to be intentional. Sometimes I thought she wanted me to lash out just so she could be the one to detonate me. I don’t know what she had against me though.

  I marched across the field to the clinic, I needed to get my gear looked at and then review the dossier on the datachip. I was starting behind another merc with no indication how far ahead they might be. I descended the stairs and pushed through the hanging plastic flaps that separated Saint’s lab from the hall.

  “Amara?” he blurted.

  Derrin “Saint” Kade was one of the few people that knew my real name. We had some history and he actually treated me like a person. He was genuine and kind, and generally the polar opposite of Vera Korrin.

  “I need a drink.” I said, walking past him and grabbing a bottle of whiskey I knew he had hidden in the cabinet.

  “Met with Vera this morning, I see.” He smirked. “Pour me one. I’ll probably need it before you leave.”

  I set out a couple glasses and poured our drinks. I didn’t even like drinking, alcohol never sat well with me, but I knew it was a quick and easy way to blunt the edges of reality which I needed at the moment.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Got a new gig, need to check my hardware before I start. Been having some glitches.” I said, downing my drink before pouring another and bringing his.

  Kade stretched out a fresh protective material on his table, motioning for me to have a seat.

  “Let’s take a look.” He offered me a cable to plug into my personal system so he could run diagnostics. “I’ll pull your logs, you tell me in your words what you’ve been seeing.”

  I slotted the cable into one of the ports behind my ear and laid back on the table. It was angled up like a the tables in doctors offices, but this one was surrounded with a variety of dangerous looking tools for installing and repairing complex implants. My personal link connected to his network and readouts from all of my hardware started printing out to his system. He sipped his drink and leaned over the logs waiting for the data to compile so he could get to the parts he needed.

  “I’m getting a little delay on my fangs, they didn’t deploy as quick as they should. I don’t need something to snap if I’ve got poison loaded in them. There’s a tightness to my claws before they engage, might just need to be lubed.”

  “Simple enough, what else?”

  “I had a visual error last night, something flickered in my HUD like system access, but it only lasted a fraction of a second and nothing showed on my scan. Hope its not something viral.” I paused, not wanting to bring up the next part.

  “Is that all?” he asked expectantly, flicking through the data on his end. He’d see it eventually.

  “My… S1R3N leaked last night while I was sleeping. I woke up… hungry.” I said.

  He nodded, looking at the information professionally, not showing any sign of concern or amusement at the revelation.

  “Mm, you’ll need a firmware update from Synthara for that one. I can’t get my hands on it here without a full requisition request which could take a week or two. You’d probably get it done faster with them. Best I could do is look at the mechanics and try to tighten up the release gate.” He tapped through more information, nodding his head as he made a mental checklist of things to look at.

  “I’d appreciate it if you looked at it, I don’t have the energy to deal with Synthara today.” I sighed.

  “No problem. Virus scans are clean, I don’t see any unauthorized access. Everything from last night looks normal. Get anything special at the Pot?” he asked, scrolling.

  “Some kind of fresh fish nigiri with Ponzu. It was heavenly.”

  “Damn… Gramps is always so nice to you. Sit tight, I’ll grab a couple things and we can get started. You shopping for anything new while you’re here?”

  “Not today. Maybe after this new gig. I just paid rent.”

  “Fair enough. Alright, let’s get started. You want a nap?”

  “Please. I hate the sounds when you get those tools inside.”

  “Rest easy, count backwards from five.”

  “Five… four… th…ee…. “ I mumbled as everything went dark.

  -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  I blinked awake two hours later, groggy but lighter. Saint was nearby, wiping down tools, his apron folded down around his waist. He peeled his shirt off, probably from some oil splash, and for a second I just… stared. Broad shoulders, lean muscle, the kind of body that came from fixing people in the guts of Peachveil instead of lifting weights. It hit me like a stray spark, the last time I’d seen him half-dressed. My lip ring pressed between my teeth as the memory bubbled up.

  Cheap whiskey, neon lights blurring, music too loud for conversation. I’d dragged him out because I couldn’t stand being alone after the job, and he didn’t say no. We drank more, and I pressed myself into him until he gave in. It hadn’t been tender. It hadn’t even been clear. Just heat, his laugh in my ear, the taste of liquor and skin.

  I don’t remember how we got to his place, just flashes: his hands steady on my hips, my nails digging into him, the way my voice cracked when I begged him not to stop. I’d needed to feel something, and he obliged. The morning after I just ghosted. He wanted more than I could give. I was already gone before he could ask for it.

  The memory slid away as he tugged a clean shirt from his desk and pulled the apron back over his chest. I forced a grin to cover the heat in my face. Some mistakes were worth remembering. Others just lingered.

  “Ah, you’re awake. Welcome back to reality.” He said, noticing me staring at him.

  “Yeah, how am I looking?”

  “I lubed up your retractable claws and replaced part of the spring mechanism, they should glide smoothly in and out for a long while.” He started.

  I held up my arm, clenched my fist and then activated the trigger software which caused two long, razor sharp, chrome blades to emerge from the back of my hand just behind the two middle knuckles. They locked into place between those and the outer knuckles for stability when I attacked with them. I retracted them as quickly as they emerged and felt the satisfying click as they slotted back into place leaving no trace they had been out.

  “I also replaced one of your fangs, it had gotten misaligned and would have eventually popped out leaving the poison injectors uncapped. They should feel like new.”

  I opened my mouth and heard the distinct sound as they locked into place behind my canines and the slight whir of the currently empty injector motor. I had to load them manually before use, and preferred to keep them empty unless I knew I was going to use them.

  “Nice, and the S1R3N?” I asked as the fangs slid back into their hiding spot in the roof of my mouth.

  “I put a new gate on the release chamber, with a fresh seal. It’s not a permanent solution, but if the firmware glitches again it might keep it from opening all the way again. I bet your neighbors would be thankful if you got it fixed permanently.” He teased.

  “Thanks, Vera tried to say it was a liability.”

  “She’s not entirely wrong. If that happens in public, you’ll be broadcasting your desires onto anyone and everyone around you. Not great if you’re trying to go undetected in enemy territory.” He added.

  “Fine. I’ll make an appointment as soon as I’m done with this mission. I’m being tested against another asset, and they got a head start.” I sighed standing up from the table.

  “Really? That’s kind of fucked up.” Kade replied.

  “Yeah — weird to have two assignments back to back,” I said. “Vera’s really pushing my limits with this one.”

  Saint rinsed a clamp and flashed me that goofy, tired smile. “It’s not personal,” he said. “She’s a corpo loyalist. She’s there to micromanage the assets, control the outcomes. No feelings involved.”

  “Feels pretty personal when I’m in that glass castle of hers.” I hugged him, the motion more habit than affection. He smelled like solder and antiseptic; for one stupid second my mind lingered on the memory of the cheap whiskey and the night we lost ourselves.

  “Be careful out there.” He set the tool down and met my eyes. “Remember, you’re not just a tool. When you get through this, we’ll celebrate. Promise.” He tapped the side of his head — his version of a blessing.

  His sincerity warmed me more than it should have. I left the clinic with my head a little clearer than I had entered. Behind me, Saint didn’t move until I was gone. He watched with that impossible patience of his, the kind that carried both memory and yearning, and the discipline to never let either slip. I caught myself wondering if he’d looked at me the same way that morning when I left his bed without a word.

  ------------------------------------------------

  The landing pad was empty. No sleek pod waited; just the echo of wind and AR ads blinking over the plaza. A guard droid rolled up and craned a scanner at me.

  “No scheduled flights for Asset NYX-3117. Please vacate the plaza.” the synthetic voice announced.

  “You brought me here in a pod,” I said. “Bring it back.” My voice was sharper than I intended.

  “Please vacate the plaza, or a security team response will be initiated,” the bot replied.

  A human guard materialized, “You heard the bot, Nyx. Catch a bus.” He blurted through his chewing gum.

  I tightened my jaw. They were testing my patience.

  “Fine… fucking rent-a-cops…”

  I felt the datachip in my pocket, a non-insignificant cold weight against my thigh. Vera had given me physical media — something archaic, traceable. It felt like deliberate omission. I needed to get somewhere secure. The clock had started ticking the moment I picked up that chip.