Alex is positively flabbergasted.

  Reflected through her cybernetic eyes is a sight that’s been anticipated for so long. Like watching a dam burst under the weight of inevitability. Like witnessing the first bullet after the warcry.

  There are so many combinations of words that could describe what she’s feeling right now and all of them feel insufficient. As though in trying to capture the moment through vocabulary it loses its flavour.

  Mimi is walking.

  The infant struggles to maintain her footing, one chubby leg wobbling as the other finds its place on the floor. Like a champion of amateur walking she stomps her foot down with the boundless energy of youth vested into her flesh. Making her way towards Alex, burbling all the while.

  It’s a sight that overtakes a thing so simple as emotion. A reminder that despite the surgery to replace her eyes, she still has tear ducts.

  It also means Sasha’s life is about to get much more complicated. Alex doesn’t know much about infants, but give them the power of bilateral locomotion? That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. Still, as Mimi turns and starts her meter-long journey towards her mother, the girl in question only seems to be reveling in parental ecstasy.

  “C’mon habibty, you can do it. Ta-ahaly hina!” Sasha encourages like a beacon of enthusiasm, squatting down with her arms extended in anticipation to grab the infant.

  Mimi burbles some more, making her way to her mother with the determination of a tiger. Step by step she gets closer until-

  She falls flat on her face.

  Sasha gasps and goes to care for the girl, picking her up and whispering consoling words to a crying Mimi. Patting her back with the intention of comfort.

  Alex meanwhile, is struggling to stifle a laugh. She knows it’s not good for her to find a…toddler? Is Mimi a toddler now? No, that’s not related to walking. Anyway, it’s not very auntie like that she finds Mimi faceplanting into synthetic wood to be premium tier comedy. But she does, and all she can do is respectfully fight off the mirth that’s bubbling to the surface.

  She’s doing a poor job of it evidently. At least if the glare from Sasha’s any indication, but she’s trying her best! Her best just isn’t enough.

  In all honesty the glare threatens to push her off the edge, so Alex has to look away while Sasha consoles the girl like a dutiful mother should.

  Alex decides to walk away and flop over on Sasha’s couch, interfacing with the tele to watch some cable. They’re…not the best quality. The couch is a little too stiff and littered with cuts, while the television only streams 4k.

  But Alex doesn’t judge. Sasha’s a bad bitch and that’s all that really matters isn’t it?

  The news flickers onto the screen as Sasha walks over, getting the usual mohawk anchor as he enthusiastically describes what is gradually devolving into a war between two of the big three. Alex hums and changes the channel to something more child friendly.

  She ends up playing Rescue Walrus, and Sasha tries to get Mimi to stop crying so the infant can focus on the show. Rescue Walrus is, to put it simply, about a walrus named gregory who’s also a paramedic. Caring for all the animal kingdoms emergencies with skill that could almost match a maestro. It catches Miriam’s attention fairly easily, and soon the bawling turns into happy laughter as she watches Gregory stick an arm back onto an anthropomorphic elephant.

  It’s a big goddamn arm, so seeing Gregory pick it up with casual ease is pretty funny.

  They just sit there, focused on such an asinine show it startles them when there’s a knock on the door. Alex and Sasha exchange glances, who the fuck knocks in this day and age? Sasha’s eyes dilate and in the span of half a second she groans.

  “Ignore them, it’s a fucking purist,” Sasha grumbles.

  Alex raises a brow, “that’s surprising, this deep into Road territory?”

  “Yeah there’s a whole group of them around the neighborhood the past few months, I’m half convinced they’re the reason the property value’s so low.”

  “That’d be funny,” Alex snorts.

  “Yeah it would.”

  They both try to refocus on the show but the knocking…keeps going. Even follows the rhythms to a few songs Alex can recognize, like a sonata of wood and knuckle. This infuriates Sasha as she pulls out her Yamaguchi and stomps over to the door.

  Mimi watches with infinite curiosity and Alex decides to follow Sasha, holding her tetra-rixi to her side.

  The door hisses open and Sasha immediately points her heavy pistol to a woman's chin. A woman who seems supremely unbothered by the barrel threatening her life. Just staring both of them down with natural brows eyes.

  Her mouth splits into a half smile. “Hello again…habibi? Is that how you Arabs say it?”

  “It’s habibty,” Alex says. “Habibi is for dudes.”

  “Oh? What about someone who…doesn’t subscribe to either gender?”

  “Then it’s just habibi, and you can just say non-binary.”

  “Perhaps, perhaps not,” the woman muses.

  “I couldn’t give less of a fuck right now,” Sasha growls as she presses the barrel harder against the womans throat. “I already told you gangoons to leave me alone, multiple times. Do I need to give a demonstration on why continuing to come to my door is a bad idea?”

  “Now now, we’re just concerned for your child’s future, no need for threats.”

  “What you just said sounds like an implicit threat.” Alex points out.

  The woman barks a laugh. “Nonsense! We simply don’t want any permanent decisions being made hastily for such a young child. Especially when the mother isn’t all that much older.”

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  “Fuck. Off.” Sasha growls.

  “Alright,” the woman says. “But just consider it won’t you? There’s nothing worse than a poor decision made with clouded judgement.”

  Sasha lets out a breath through her nose and presses against the woman's throat harder, which just widens her smile. She takes a step back and walks off down a hall of so many doors, leaving Alex and Sasha standing alone.

  “Mama agwy, grrrrr!” Mimi growls from behind them.

  -

  The tetra-rixi is a simple gun

  Not the cheapest of the tetra series, but it’s not exactly premium firepower. Even grade four synth-skin can withstand the bullets, though you’d need hypodermal shock absorbers to prevent internal damage. There’s always the option of going ballistic, but that kind of invalidates the entire point of a cheap but reliable firearm.

  It’s not really a problem since most don’t have synth-skin, even though it’s considered a basic enhancement. Anything below fifth grade is expensive as fuck, and fifth grade would still let guns like hers to some decent damage. So you can reasonably expect the average gangoon to be vulnerable to bullets.

  Which makes first aid a necessary skill when living in this city.

  Alex tears off a piece of her shirt and presses against a child's stomach, stemming the bleeding. There are a few corpses alongside the bleeding staining the snow crimson.

  Cars drive past the wounded as though they weren’t there, and most pedestrians just walk by. Alex was lucky she wasn’t caught by a stray. She really should be carrying a kit with her, this wasn’t some rando with a gun after all.

  The kid whines as Alex presses the fabric against his wound.

  “Shh, it’s okay kiddo, I’ve got you. Just gotta stay still alright? Can you do that for me?”

  The kid's eyes well up with tears but he nods. “Okay.”

  Alex beams a smile and keeps pressing against the wound. She’s…passable in biology, so she can tell the bullet didn’t hit anything but the small intestines. The internal bleeding will still be a bitch though, gonna need a proper maestro for that.

  There’s a few people like her, tending to the wounded. They’re rare but they exist. Alex isn’t really like them, she just has a soft spot for kids. They…she doesn’t know. Deserve some mercy?

  Why doesn’t everyone?

  World doesn’t work that way, and she isn’t something divine that could question it. She doesn’t know how society reconciles their morals with the ideal. Despite being in Arthas she knows the personality of a paragon, and personally she finds it fucking stupid. Someone so forgiving will find so much pain. Someone so selfless will find their time and possessions stolen.

  People are scum, that’s what she chooses to believe. But even scum can have moments of beauty. Even scum can play pretend for just a moment.

  A metal hand rests on her shoulder and squeezes lightly. She turns away from the boy and lays crimson eyes on a man with teal hair and a blocky face. His chrome arm is similarity colored teal, and stops just before the elbow where flesh returns to meet metal.

  She can only see his elbow because he’s wearing a short-sleeve dress shirt. In winter. Alex scrunches her brow at the man and wonders if he’s an idiot

  “Move aside girlie, you did good,” he says as he unclips a first aid kit from his belt.

  Alex raises a brow but nods, even if he’s an idiot a proper kit would do wonders compared to a ripped piece of fabric. He checks the boy's vitals with surprising professionalism, Alex is genuinely surprised. A needle comes out of the ring finger of his chrome arm and he pushes it through the boy's veins after only a few seconds of measuring.

  He looks at the torn piece of fabric on the wound with disdain, but he doesn’t remove it. Instead placing gauze overtop and wrapping it with a bandage. He turns to Alex, looks her up and down, then fucking scoffs.

  Alex doesn’t have the time to voice her offence before he picks up the boy, dragging him off the corner and next to a building where a few other victims are waiting. Alex stomps over, more than ready to give the bastard a lesson in politeness.

  The man turns, raises a brow at her presence, then shoves a second kit into her arms. “Go check on the other wounded, I’ll check on them soon.”

  Then he…walks off to his next patient. Alex just blinks at him, stares at the kit, then returns her gaze back to the man. The fuck?!? She didn’t sign up for this! She just wanted to help out a brat, not act as some rando maestro’s assistant. At least she assumes he’s a maestro with how confident he is in his medical skills.

  Alex wants to go and voice her complaints at being voluntold, but he’s already treating his next patient, and there are quite a few groaning on the ground…

  Fuck it.

  -

  She’s got a bit of blood staining her outer jacket, courtesy of tending to like…six wounded? That sounds about right, which is good enough for her. The weirdo left without a word, didn’t even bother to grab the kit he gave her.

  Guess it’s hers now.

  She already has one but the more the merrier as they say. That logic applies to a lot, like food. She’s gotten ravenous since she got her skill, and it’s only been getting worse as time passes. Puts a pretty big dent in her allowance but she enjoys being able to gorge herself without needing to worry about weight. Maybe Baba will even let her have two crepes a week.

  Unlikely, but dreams are for dreaming.

  Touring through her locality has made her familiar enough with the vicinity of the Raisin complex, and thus she knows plenty about these blessed restaurants that she can finally enjoy.

  It’s all for a good cause. She needs protein, and a shit ton of it. Her muscle growth might be magical, but the muscles themselves aren’t. They need bricks to build just the same as any good structure.

  Alex is happy to provide.

  If she ignored the cost she’d practically be in heaven! Unfortunately that detail isn’t exactly small.

  Ah well, she’ll make do. Can’t expect Gidou weh Tita to keep up with her ridiculous stomach. As convenient as it would be, that's just elder abuse, and Alex ain’t no bitch. At least not in that sense.

  Now, Alex likes food. That much should be evident already with…her appetite. Interruptions to her meal are both unwelcome and unwanted, so you’ll have to forgive the scowl she gives to a chubby boy who grabs a seat and sits across from her.

  Alex stares daggers at him as he nervously looks down and takes a centering breath. He looks up at her eyes. He's got the specific blue hue that indicates membership with The Lunar Pack, and that makes Alex more than a little suspicious.

  Since he isn’t saying anything, just taking glances up at her as he seemingly gathers the courage to speak, Alex decides to see if he has any friends.

  It isn’t at all hard to find them. They’re three idiots on the edge of their seats not two tables away. Two girls and a rather androgynous fellow. They hastily turn away as Alex stares at them.

  She unholsters her handgun with a hand under the table and looks back at the boy only to catch him staring. “What do you want, wolf?”

  “Hi!” he squeaks. “I’m Sun Fang! It’s a pleasure to meet you, may I have your name?”

  He says it all at a speed that makes Alex blink.

  “The fuck would you want with my name?”

  “Hopefully a date?” he says, scratching at his cheek.

  “Pffft. What?” Alex laughs. “C’mon kid, don’t fuck with me. what do you want?”

  “I said what I said!” he exclaims.

  “And I don’t believe you. No offence, you may be on the heavier side, but you can do better than me.”

  He deflates and looks down. “This is not going well…can I at least have your contact info?”

  “Okay?” Alex says. “You’re not serious are you? I’ve got a gun pointed at your nads right now and it’d be a shame for me to pull the trigger.”

  “I’m perfectly serious,” Sun Fang nods, not even paying attention to her threat.

  Alex raises a brow and shrugs. “Alright.”

  ***

  Index:

  Habibty: Bro/sweatheart (female)

  Ta-ahaly hina: come here (female)

  Ta-ahlah hina: come here (male)