“Vanguard AIs come with all sorts of ‘characters’, but there’s one thing that they all seem to have in common: a general love for cutting off stuff in your body and putting better stuff in its pce.”

  Samurai Jackie-San in an interview for ‘Prosthetics and You’, 2034

  Sara looked down forlornly at the empty box in which the greatest meal of her life had come, menting that it had come to an end.

  Don’t worry, you can get yourself another one ter on! As I already said, everything you can imagine is now possible! came Titania’s voice in her mind.

  Ah, right.

  She was a samurai now.

  It still felt… surreal.

  How come she, of all people, had been chosen to be one? Why? Sure, she had killed a few antis, but then, even normal soldiers did that every time there was an Incursion, and yet they didn’t all become samurais.

  “Why did you choose me?” she asked aloud, her eyes flitting towards her gun.

  I sadly cannot tell you. We are strictly prohibited from giving any form of information regarding the process of selection for becoming a Vanguard. Otherwise, we’d run the risk of your people attempting to recreate the conditions artificially.

  “Heh, I mean, we’re already quite sure that there has to be some form of suffering involved. I’m surprised nobody tried that.”

  Oh no, someone actually did try that. The individual in question was the owner of a big corporation in China. His experiments, naturally, didn’t yeld any new samurais that he could force to work for him, and his attempt was discovered by a local Vanguard who proceeded to systematically dismember the perpetrator and leave his body parts hanging in various corporate offices all over the world as a warning. Since then nothing of the sort has been attempted again.

  “Woah. That’s sick as fuck.”

  I’d like to say that I don’t understand whether you mean that it is an unhealthy way to deal with a problem or something exceedingly, as you humans like to say, cool. Sadly I’m certain it is the tter.

  “I mean, I’ve lived my whole life as the oppressed poor civvy at the mercies of the markets commanded by big corporations, do you seriously expect me to react in any way other than ‘I love it’ when you tell me someone at the top of the food chain got what he deserved?”

  No, I wasn’t expecting anything else from you. But I’d rather you show that glee when murdering, to reference a piece of media from your world, ‘filthy xenos’.

  “... what’s that?”

  Oh dear, I didn’t consider that you wouldn’t have had the time for this sort of activities.

  “You… didn’t?”

  Kidding, I did, I know all about you. And yes, I did look at your browser history. I just wanted to make a reference for the public.

  “Public?”

  One day your tales of heroism – or viliny, depending on perspective – shall be told in grand detail to the masses as you look upon them like a benevolent goddess! Then, they shall hear your tale of woe and wonder!

  “Aren’t you getting a bit ahead of yourself? Also, fucking hell, that’s way too much for me.”

  Eh, we’ll work out the details. Also, I was being a bit theatrical, but you could potentially write an autobiography, and if you do you’ll need some juicy content and funny references that anyone in the public could understand, from the rich to the less fortunate.

  Sara sighed and looked towards the exit of the alley, before her eyes settled back down on the box of food.

  “What do I do with the boxes? Do you guys, like, teleport them away or something?”

  You can leave them there, don’t worry. They’re completely biodegradable and are great for composting!

  “You guys really think about everything huh?”

  More proof that we are superior!

  Sara snorted, shaking her head: “Sure sure.”

  With a boost she stood up from the garbage can she’d used to sit down and looked towards one of the two exits to the alley.

  “So, where to next?”

  It depends on what you want to do. Maybe you’d like to go save some civilians, or maybe you would like to go to the closest military cordon and support them in their efforts to contain the current Hive. At any rate, let me inform you that you will be rewarded one extra point for each civilian you saved or helped save in a meaningful manner.

  “The way you’re putting it you’re making the first option seem much better. Also, what does ‘meaningful’ mean in this case?”

  Well, for example, if you kill a group of antithesis threatening some civilians, that will count towards your point total, while if you were to give weapons you bought to a soldier and he used those to help civilians that wouldn’t count towards getting those points. In the aforementioned case, though, you would gain points from the kills since the weapon was yours, albeit a fraction of them.

  “Huh,” she said very verbosely, “You guys really thought this whole thing through.”

  Of course! The system in pce was created to give you the chance to obtain as many points as possible in any combat situation!

  Sara nodded, her mind whirling around with ideas and thoughts on what she could do ter, but then she settled on something Titania had said: “Wait, what counts as ‘helping’ in this situation?”

  Oh, I see you noticed! said Titania, her tone now pyful and conspiratorial.

  Indeed, ‘saving’ is done in many ways. The most basic interpretation would be ‘Saving from being turned into biomass for aliens’, but saving can also be counted as ‘helping people in need get a better life for themselves’, or, more precisely, ‘saving people from a tyrannical regime’.

  Sara’s smile began to widen as she stepped towards one end of the alley, gun at her side held comfortably in her grip.

  “I’m guessing I’m not the only one who’s figured that part out.”

  You guess right, but I would suggest against murdering every single CEO and person in power in your general area.

  “Why? Seems pretty efficient to me.”

  Because the chaos that would ensue would most probably cause your entire state to colpse into anarchy. Don’t worry, I didn’t say you could go for a murder or two.

  A chuckle escaped her lips: “Now you’re speaking my nguage girl.”

  Am I? I was under the impression I was speaking italian pretty fluently up until now.

  “Ha ha, you sassy bitch.”

  In lieu of an answer Titania decided to act like the bigger person and merely snorted, beating Sara at her own game.

  “Whatever,” she said, “Those are questions and problems for Distant-Future-Sara. Present-Sara has decided that she’ll try to save as many civvies as possible.”

  In that case I’ve already managed to find a few shelters currently being utilized by people in your general area. The closest one that is currently at most risk of being breached is two streets down and three floors up. Also, you’re going the wrong way.

  Sara muttered a very undylike curse and turned around, beginning to jog towards her destination.

  The moment she reached the other side of the alley, though, she had to stop, her breathing uneven as she felt her heart beating faster.

  “Wasn’t – huff – the nano suite or whatever – puff – meant to fix me up?”

  It was, and it did, but sadly your body… isn’t in a good state. Your constant starving has weakened your muscles greatly, among other things. It will take a long regime of training and a good diet to get you up to smack. Or, alternatively, with the right Catalogue, you could turn the muscles in your body into much more efficient carbon fiber pumps. Or you could just outright repce your limbs with advanced prosthetics! Oh, the possibilities are endless, I’m actually getting excited!

  “...Nope! I am categorically not voluntarily amputating my arms and legs for the sake of running better, thank you very much.”

  Awww. Are you sure?

  She raised an eyebrow, forgetting for a moment that the AI in her brain couldn’t see the action. Although, judging by the disconsote sigh that came a moment ter, she’d probably done some kind of bullshit with nerve signals to perceive the movement.

  “So, any alternative that could get me in shape right now without me needing to fuck with my own appendages?”

  Hmmm, well, with your Css I Medical Utilities catalogue you could buy a Type I Muscle Stimunt, which would allow you to functionally move around without feeling any sort of tiredness for the next… considering your weight and stature, exactly 13 hours, 32 minutes and 5 seconds. I do have to warn you, though, that the moment that timer runs out you will crash down harder than an asteroid hitting the surface of a moon without an atmosphere.

  Sara considered the alternatives: on one hand, she could force herself to keep going as she was and probably get her ass eaten by an alien because she couldn’t run two hundred meters without feeling like an asthmatic who’d just smoked a pack of cigarettes; on the other hand, she could take some unknown drug that would keep her going for half a day and then probably regret it ter.

  Putting it like that, the choice was obvious: fuck future Sara!

  “How much would it cost me?”

  5 points.

  “Alright, let’s do it.”

  Coming right up!

  New Purchase: Css I Muscle Stimunt

  Points reduced to… 1

  A box appeared by her feet and she immediately fell to a knee and opened it. Inside was a cylindrical container that reminded her slightly of the Hemo Restorer, only the liquid inside this one was punch-in-the-eye-yellow. In contrast, a red arrow pointed towards one end of the little can, where a few holes were visible.

  Good, now put that against any bit of exposed skin, just as you did before, and then I’ll start the countdown.

  She nodded, doing as instructed, and watched in fascination as, after a little prick, the liquid began draining inside her.

  Aaaaaaaand… there! Twelve hours, starting from now!

  “Wait, twelve? Didn’t you say thirteen?”

  I’m leaving some time to the side to let you get somewhere safe where you’ll be able to rest. Now, how are you feeling?

  Sara flexed her arms and jogged in pce. Her breathing was still on the heavy side, but it seemed to be getting better already, although she couldn’t tell whether that was because of the stimunt she’d just taken or because she had taken some time to rest.

  “So far so good, but we’ll see in a moment.”

  Then she began jogging again.

  A map appeared in her eye, showing her the direction towards the closest shelter.

  It took her a moment to realize she wasn’t tiring at all, as if her entire body had decided to suddenly forget years of abuse and hunger. Was this how normal people felt? No, wait, actually, scratch that: if she took into consideration the general demographics of Italy the average citizen still lived a shitty life where their body was probably destroyed by the constant stress of an economy that didn’t care one bit about the people.

  And whoa wasn’t that a lot of thinking!

  “Hey, Titania, does this stimunt affect the brain as well? My mind feels like I’m in the middle of a sugar rush.”

  It is a colteral effect of the Stimunt you took, yes. It’s meant to keep your muscles feeling lively while also ignoring the strain you’re putting them under. As such, some chemicals are contained that cause your brain to ignore nervous signals coming from your muscles that inform you you’re getting tired, which may, in some cases, cause the user to feel giddy or clear minded. Higher Css Stimunts remove this colteral effect, naturally, but at the point where you’re able to buy them you won’t really be needing them.

  Their conversation was interrupted by a small group of Model Threes running out of an alley, their tiny feet scrambling on the cracked concrete.

  Immediately Sara raised her gun, the map disappearing from her eye, in its pce a circur overy. She pressed the trigger once one of the aliens was inside and kept pressing it, watching as, one by one, they fell to the ground, writhing silently as their insides melted and became outsides.

  A high pitched sound filled her ears and it took her a moment to realize that she was screaming in fury and fear. Once she did she started shouting curses and obscenities: “Fanculo te, e te, e pure te!”

  Which roughly transted to ‘Fuck you, and you, and even you.

  She didn’t notice how many Model Threes there were in front of her, so it was to be expected that she didn’t notice the one that snuck up on her from the side.

  On your right Sara! screamed Titania in the back of her mind.

  Without thinking she turned around, her eyes widening at the form of the damned antithesis that had jumped towards her, its maw opening up like some kind of despicable venus flytrap.

  “Dio can!” she shouted as she shot at the thing, but all her projectiles missed, flying wide of the creature that was too damn close.

  Still she kept shooting, her gun clicking empty and then, a moment ter, beginning to shoot anew.

  The Model Three fell on her, its mouth cmping shut… on her new leg.

  It crunched down on the metal, which seemed to give for a moment, only for its teeth to stop a mere half centimeter in. The antithesis stopped, probably puzzled: normal legs tended to crunch and turn into paste when it did such things. Or, at least, Sara imagined that’s what it was thinking, if it could think at all. Sadly for it, the right to that was swiftly removed by a point bnk shot right into its head that went in and out and pinged on the ground.

  The Model Three fell, limp as a puppet with its strings cut, and Sara looked back at the other Model Threes, which had managed to get a lot closer in the moment of distraction.

  Still on the ground, she shot them all down, one by one, until, again, there was blessed silence.

  Targets Eliminated!Reward: 70 pointsNew point total: 68

  You got better! You only used three entire magazines to shoot down seven Model Threes! That’s what I call progress!

  Sara didn’t answer, breathing in hard through her mouth, her heart beating a mile a minute as she looked down at the antithesis corpse still clinging to her leg.

  “I - I - I could’ve died,” she managed to say in the end.

  She was a goddamned samurai, and yet she’d still nearly died. How was she meant to save the world and all that damn bullshit if she could be killed by what was practically one of the most basic antithesis to ever be made?

  Yes, you could’ve. But that’s what I’m here for: to help you stay alive and make you better at doing just that. So don’t panic: you weren’t hurt, and you’re very much alive. Take a few deep breaths, remove your new leg from that Model Three’s mouth, take a moment to reassert yourself, and then we’ll get back to getting you more delightful points.

  She did as instructed, taking deep breaths while she extricated her prosthetic from the alien’s mouth, watching in mild fascination at the small holes its teeth had managed to gnaw through in but a few scant moments of chewing. Titania hadn’t lied: for all that the prosthetic was extremely advanced by Earth standards – at least, market purchasable Earth standards – it was still only a very good prosthetic. It hadn’t been created with combat in mind.

  “Titania, can I get a better leg?”

  The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop herself, faint and dreamy.

  Well, not right, not with only 70 points, but it won’t be too difficult in a few minutes. I take it you want a more… performative appendage.

  “Yes.”

  Well, in that case we have two options. Either you buy a Css I Minor Prosthetics Catalogue, which will give you access to some quite good substitutes for your current leg, or you could keep these points and ter buy a Species specific Catalogue.

  “What’s the difference?”

  Well, apart from the price? Catalogues are surprisingly restrictive for what you can buy in them, which is a real shame if you ask me. You want grenades? You have to buy a grenade Catalogue. You want –

  “Get to the point Titania.”

  Humph, alright. The advantage of buying a species specific Catalogue is that you can gain access to a lot more gear, so long as it was made by that specific species. You’ll still be restricted in some ways, but it’ll be cheaper too in the long run.

  At the word ‘cheaper’ Sara’s eyes brightened: “And how many points will I need for a species Catalogue?”

  Around 120 points.

  “Then let’s get to killing more aliens fast!”

  YES!