The illicit bioplant—a grotesque marvel born from dissecting relic technology, extracting only usable fragments to create a bio-reconstruction culture tube.

  Capable of crafting anything—weapons, humans—given materials and data, the plant was the sinful root fattening the Crucible of Carnal Desire and Silentium executives’ greed. Able to resurrect the dead by reconstructing brains from preserved cells and transplanting memories from a deck into a synthetic body submerged in culture fluid, it was a blasphemy of life.

  In the undercity, life was cheaper than a bullet, flimsier than paper. But in mid-city, death carried weight. Families grieved, shared memories at funerals. Mid-citizens despised, feared, and denied death. Why must loved ones die? Why are newborns doomed? Their tears and sorrow marked death as an inescapable fate, a wedge driven into life.

  Death was terrifying, to be shunned, rejected. Fearing its shadow, denying fate’s scythe, mid-citizens turned to demonic technology—a moral nuke. Commissioning Crucible relic hunters to unearth the plant’s tech, mid-city elites built it deep within Hydro de Benzene, masked by the pleasure district’s rampant crime and perverse desires.

  Initially meant to defy death, resurrect the lost, it fueled endless greed. Human cloning, personality and memory preservation—banned in mid-city—ignited depraved ambitions. Purpose warped, evil sprouted, devouring integrity.

  Why not start an underground business? The Crucible, a crime syndicate, could line their pockets without Silentium noticing. It’s the lawless undercity pleasure district—perfect. Smirking, greed-blinded elites’ eyes burned with madness.

  Rape a lost love. Commit taboo incest. Clone a hated boss, kill them brutally. Built to deny death, the plant churned out atrocities, fueling desires like wildfire. Human hands birthed mechanical sin.

  Oblivious to this, Danan poured his blood into the plant, gripping an assault rifle forged from its nutrients. Firing, shots echoed, bullets sparking off the assassin’s black-iron exoskeleton.

  Conventional weapons couldn’t pierce it. He needed armor-penetrating firepower—a rocket launcher, a high-output laser. Blood flowed faster through the tubes as Nephthys warned, “Danan, this is dangerous. Even Lumina’s nanobots can’t counter excessive blood loss.” Ignoring her, Danan shouldered a rocket launcher extruded with the culture fluid.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The plant’s fate didn’t matter. Killing the assassin, surviving, did. Vision blurring, head pounding, body leaden, Danan’s beastly instinct aimed the launcher, firing.

  The rocket was shot down by the assassin’s chain gun, flames engulfing the area. The black-iron pile bunker’s stake, propelled by explosive casings, pierced the plant’s control panel.

  “Danan, the connected plant is destroyed. Locate another,” Nephthys said.

  “Got it!” Danan gasped.

  “Warning: Energy charging in assassin’s palm armor. Compressed laser in five minutes. Retreat or evade advised.”

  Hand on the ground, Danan struggled up, only to be kicked by the assassin, ribs shattering, organs rupturing.

  Spitting blood, flung against the wall, Danan saw the laser’s converging glow—blinding blue-white.

  Think. Find a way to survive. Lumina would repair his organs, his blood loss. Focus on killing the assassin. Glancing at white nematodes swarming his creaking mechanical arm, Danan muttered, “Nephthys, use the wave cannon.”

  “Affirmative. Converting thermal energy to wave energy. Stand, Danan.”

  “…No objections?”

  “It’s the most rational, optimal choice. As a combat AI, I defer to advantageous selections. Code Onimus isn’t needed yet—this isn’t the situation.”

  “…”

  When would that immense power be used? Was there a worse crisis? Yes—Damocles or Aeshma’s interference loomed. Trembling, Danan stood, deploying the wave cannon, eyes blazing with feral intent.

  Kill everything—every threat. Crush, smash, destroy. Lumina’s nanobots in his heart roared with his fury, blood boiling in his brain.

  “Wave cannon firing in three, two, one… Request permission.”

  “Fire!”

  A thin purple bolt sliced the air, antimatter forming. The cannon’s energy swallowed the assassin’s laser, obliterating part of the plant.

  “Assassin intact. Cooling cannon for second shot. Initiating rapid cooling and heat dissipation.”

  No sign of the assassin in the cannon’s scars. Trusting Nephthys’ data, Danan heard boosters above, cursing as the assassin dodged the blast.

  The fight remained stacked against him. A flesh-and-blood human couldn’t match an exoskeleton’s specs. To the assassin, this was a formality, like kicking aside a pebble. Deflecting bullet rain with his steel skin, firing his rifle, Danan ran as Nephthys said, “The administrator is coming.”

  “Administrator? No, she’s bedridden.”

  Static crackled, his arm’s comms restored. “Danan?! Are you alive?! Answer!” Lils’ voice rang.

  “Lils…? Comms are back?”

  “Danan! Eve—”

  “What about Eve?!”

  Steel clashed, sparks flew. Lils’ panicked voice shook his eardrums. Glaring at the laser’s converging light, Danan saw a star-like glimmer in the darkness—then a silver wing pierced his chest.

  “—!”

  “Administrator Eve’s Code Onimus activation confirmed. Lumina control complete.”

  A silver-winged girl descended, hair flowing, sweat pouring. Blocking the laser with five silver wings, Eve met Danan’s gaze with prismatic eyes.

  “Don’t be reckless alone, Danan,” she said, flicking her slender arm, a pained smile suppressed.