Balor. The Hawk. He’s hated me ever since we first met.

  The other Scourge members don’t acknowledge it, or don’t want to. And in the end, I force them to, and Balor is driven out. He becomes the one who is alone, and I become the crown jewel of Deca Machina’s criminal underworld.

  I don’t care if I’m spoiling the story. It’s my next turning point, and easily the most memorable of them all.

  …

  I awaken to the smell of fresh coffee. I haven’t smelled coffee since I was in the sky. Dr. Brighton would bring one in every morning, whenever he had a reason to come see me. I always asked him if I could have a sip, but he always said I wasn’t old enough. Or coffee’s not good for me.

  I spoke up in my tired voice, all deep and groggy like. “Hey guys, is that coffee?”

  “Oh, he’s awake.” Kiara blurted out. She walked over to me and looked down. “Did you say something Tedd?”

  “Yeah, is that coffee?” I repeated, bracing my hand on the back of the couch and sitting up. My hair was messier than a bird’s nest.

  “Yeah, it is. Want some?” She offered casually. No remark, no ‘are you sure,’ nothing like that. I feel like this is normal, but it feels so weird, I can’t help giving her a goofy grin.

  “Haha- sure. I’ve never been allowed to have coffee before.” I admit excitedly. I’ve wanted to try coffee ever since I first laid eyes on it. It smells so good, and everyone drinks it. Except me of course. But I’ve always wanted to.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Kiara asks as she narrows her eyes at me. She clearly is in disbelief. “There is no WAY you haven’t had coffee before! Do you want milk or sugar?”

  “Um.. both?” I questioned. Milk and sugar in coffee? Or was she asking if I want one or the other? Is it unsafe to put both in it or something?

  Kiara just shrugged in response and gave a thumbs up, then walked to the coffee machine. She reaches across to the back of the counter and pulls a medium sized cup from the wall. I wonder how you even put cups in the wall, like how do they refill? She placed the cup on top of the metal grill at the bottom of the coffee machine. It’s a tray to catch anything that spills. Then she tapped on the machine’s sleek black glass exterior, and it lit up brightly as options like espresso, milk, sugar, honey, caramel; Deca Machina, this is not like the primitive thing Dr. Brighton made coffee with. She tapped the screen a couple times, the machine hummed loudly, and a stream of steaming, sugary light brown coffee poured into the cup.

  “I’ve never seen something so extravagant make coffee before.” I remark, astounded.

  “E-extravagant?” Kiara held back a laugh, “This is just a normal coffee machine. What did you think it was gonna be?”

  “I dunno. A metal pot that boils water, then a thingy with a filter that you pour coffee grinds in, then you pour the water through, and it turns the water into coffee?”

  Kiara shook her head at me as she blew the bubbles off the cup, then picked it up with a few fingers. She stepped wobbly over to me, careful not to spill a drop as she set it on the glass surface of the coffee table in front of the couch. “All yours pal, drink to your heart’s content.” She stepped away, laying her arms out theatrically as if to present some grand artifact.

  I took the cup carefully, focusing on my fingers, the force they exerted, as to not crush it. I smiled briefly as I held it; this is the first time I held something in many years. “If you say so.” I mumble, before raising the cup to my lips and taking a sip. My face recoiled with minor disgust, it was bitter, but the milk and sugar helped mask it. “So this is coffee. It tastes alright. I mean, a bit bitter, but there’s a certain comfort to it?”

  “Yuh uh, yeah.” Kiara nodded and smiled at me as if I was an idiot. I can’t really blame her though. Coffee is likely a staple of most people’s lives, just as ordinary as water. But to me, it’s. Vibration. Viiibration. Focus. Woah. Woah, this energy. This sublime power.

  I can feel the subtle vibrations in the air around me, like I can physically see the waves. They’re like little distortions, crashing into each other, dissipating. Some of the waves are denser, stronger, like Balor’s breathing. And his voice pierces through all the other vibrations in the air, bouncing off walls and into my ears as he speaks with a frightened venom.

  “Hey Tedd. Your wire is glowing, is that n-normal?” He inquired with his usual mockery- was that a stutter? Balor has never done that, ever. Why? Am I the only one who caught it?

  I hardly noticed, but yeah, my wire was glowing. Another kind of wave, electromagnetic radiation. Emanating from my visor, and my spinal column. I grinned at him as I replied, “Yeah, that’s normal. It glows as an indicator whenever my nervous system undergoes consistent stimulation from a foreign source, such as caffeine; the active ingredient in coffee.”

  “You’re moving your fingers now too, Tedd. What happened to those cages?” He prodded further, as he stepped to the coffee table and placed one foot on its surface, then leaned down, glaring at me. “And how exactly did you get inside Ava's wire?” He asked with growing irritation. “What about, when you shouted out at the warehouse to warn us, moments before we were all nearly killed?” Balor paused now and looked briefly to Kiara who shared the same look of suspicion.

  She joined in, stepping beside Balor with her arms crossed. “Demi, Shula, Claive, and Ava aren’t here to hold your hand this time. We would like an explanation.” Kiara demanded.

  "An explanation? -" I felt a lump of anger rise in me. But I remembered what happened the last two times I let myself feel that. First, the warehouse, and all the dead operatives. And then shutting Ava's brain off flat out.

  "I; I owe you one. The cages, they were never cages. They are mechanized gloves, I didn't know how to move them so they locked my hands in place. I got into Ava's wire because Cade showed me how. He established a link with mine, and showed me what hers looked like, then I just... thought about entering her mind, and suddenly I was in it. And when I shouted out at the warehouse, I had a vision of Kaito giving the operative his directions. And- when I came to again, it was too late." I explained with haste, almost pleading as I faced the two, coffee in hand. I couldn't bring myself to take another sip until they gave their response, and Deca Machina the anticipation was frightening.

  Balor leaned in further towards me, rolling his eyes as if to dismiss me, "You know how ridiculous that sounds right?! Seeing into the future? Yeah right. Not. Buying it. Start again." he ridiculed me as he continued to glare, leaning in closer. The closer he leaned, the more I felt like I was in danger. What’s even holding him back at this point?

  "Start again- No. No, not seeing into the future. Looking into the past, I saw someone's memories. The soldier's, before he... wait, memories?" I second guess myself, going from staring at Balor to my coffee cup.

  I couldn’t let myself falter right now. I own my life down here. I can’t lie to myself and say he has any right to invalidate me. "I already told you, don't question or doubt anything I say from this point onward. I'm not going to tell you a different story. I know you know I'm telling the truth."

  "You've been picking on me ever since I showed up, and some people act strange, or frightened around you. And for some reason, you're familiar- what is your deal, Balor?”

  Balor’s right eye glowed a furious red for 3 seconds as he quietly glared at me. That glow made me feel like I was 12 again. Again, I have this horrible feeling I’ve seen him before I fell down here. His dead face transformed into a glorious facade as a smile plastered itself onto his face. “Tedd. Are you accusing me of being a liar? There is one thing Demi hates more than Killjoy. Care to guess what it is?”

  I recline in my seat as reality sets in. Balor has no intention of coming clean to me. Not even in private. Even as Kiara backs away, clearly sensing the tension between us, he turns to her briefly and offers a reassuring nod. She returns the same nod, and Balor cranes his head back to me. Awaiting my answer.

  I can’t just say I don’t know. I’ve been with him long enough I should know. So what do I know? “I-I never called you a liar.” I blurt out, leaning my head in so he knows I’m not taking this lightly. I’m not taking this lightly. It feels like he’s about to kill me. “I just; Asked you a question. Answer it with an answer.” I command him, my fingers gripping the couch and slightly tearing the fabric as I attempt to contain my anger.

  “Just like Lynn said, Tedd. I’m offended you don’t remember. So I’ll answer my question for you, it’s infighting, that’s what Demi hates the most. So you’re either going to stop acting all rough in front of me, or you’re gonna walk out that door. And I’m not gonna be the one kicking you out.” Balor whispered with a malicious grin plastered on his face.

  “You can't tell me what to do, Balor. And if it comes to it, just watch how fast I'll be out that door-” I fired back at Balor, only for my threat to be silenced. I had so much more to say. Curse you and your convenient timing.

  My words knotted in my mouth and my neck snapped toward the entrance as the door squeaked open, and Claive's familiar figure entered the room with Demi close behind, carrying that offensive tobacco smell that follows him like a stray dog. Demi tilted his head up at Balor, and received Balor’s death glare in kind, the two locking horns the moment they met eyes.

  “Well well, pardon the intrusion. Didn't mean to walk in on you two before you could pull your pants up.” Claive jested with one eye half closed in a slight wince. Demi flicked a burning object onto the floor, and the offensive smell dissipated. “Yeah. Pardon the intrusion.” Demi added, still staring at Balor, and me as well, with a careful suspicion.

  Thank you, Claive. Thank you, Demi. Thank you so much.

  Kiara's eyes lit up and she smiled brightly when Claive appeared. With a skip in her step, she opened her arms and tackled Claive into a hug, burying her head in him as if she hadn't seen him in years. “Claive!” She exclaimed jovially, “I thought you weren't coming back for another week at least!”

  Claive winced once more as Kiara tackled him straight into the wall. “Careful, Kiara. There's a reason I'm out so early, and it's because I'm only half healed. Our friend Demi here thought it wise to threaten our medic, so she released me within 48 hours but fuuuck am I sore.”

  Demi cleared his throat, and the rest turned their attention to him, as if that one sound meant the same thing to all of them. Honestly I’ve been here long enough I know what it means too, and that’s why he has my undivided attention right now.

  “Killjoy hasn't made a move on us since the warehouse incident. Normally they strike hard, and without delay. It's been a few days, so that means they're certainly finished planning and ready to attack, and they will soon.” He explained to everyone.

  I couldn't help but notice Balor slowly shaking his head as Demi spoke, ending with a loud sigh as he finished. “No news to me, boss. I'm two steps ahead of you.” Balor replied shortly, stepping up to Demi and tilting his head down at him.

  Demi crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. “What's your plan then, Balor.” He reluctantly asks.

  Balor flicked his head in response, giving him a shit eating grin as he leaned down right in his face. “Can't tell you, boss. Just trust me. I'll take Shula or Claive with me, rock paper scissors between them.”

  Demi shot the same mischievous smile back at him, and stepped beside Balor, before suddenly grabbing his hair and pulling his ear down to his mouth. “No. You'll be taking Tedd with you, actually.” Demi angrily whispered, before shoving his head away.

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  Balor stood stiff with fury, and a glow in his eye only I could see glared down at Demi. “You can't be serious. Read the fucking room.” Balor spat.

  I stood from my spot on the couch, and quickly stepped between them before they started throwing hands- or bullets. It was hard to predict at this point. “Demi,” I began, speaking quietly, and close to him. I knew Balor could hear and speaking quietly was pointless, but, “I know why you're putting me with him. Not only am I uncomfortable with this, but I would get in his way. Shula and Claive know him better and work better with him. Don't do this.” I explain to Demi, as gently as possible.

  Demi only answered me by shaking his head, then stepped past me, squaring up to Balor once more. “You're defying me, Balor?” He questioned, arms still crossed firmly.

  Balor bit his tongue in response. “I'll be back in thirty minutes. I have some things to prepare. Tedd. Be ready.” Balor muttered to Demi and I. He glared at Demi for another ten seconds before turning his back and heading off to another room. It's insane how Demi doesn't even give an inch when his orders are questioned. Not even to someone like Balor, who I'm certain could take him on if it came to it.

  As his figure left my view, that familiar tight feeling enshrouded my body. Like wires constricting my every limb, bugs crawling around inside my brain, leaving me utterly paralysed. That module was installed by Quinn Sterling, the nicotine. Last time I felt this way, that substance made me feel better. Now, it's doing nothing, despite the heightened presence of nicotine in my bloodstream. I see why this is a banned substance now.

  …

  Are you kidding me? Nicotine module? Something as low as this was never a part of my life. By this point, I was meant to discover how the amphetamine injectors in my PMD worked, that and coffee. But Nicotine? Tedd, you can't be serious.

  But I know better than to question it by now. I am more than a spectator in this story. As I said, this is a story of my death. Whether I make it out alive doesn’t change no matter what I do or say. It all depends on you, doesn’t it. Dear watcher. Dear listener, the one who listens to my heart when no one else will see what is truly inside.

  …

  I know I used to have access to a proper stimulant, one which regulated my mind for all hours of the day. It's supposed to be in my PMD right now, but I can't feel its effects. Furthermore, I haven't been contacted by Klara nor Brighton since Skyfall.

  I’ve been waiting thirty minutes, Balor isn’t ready yet. I could talk to the others, but I know they would have nothing to say. Neither would I. I stand motionless in the middle of the room, like a player watching NPCs interact, caring nothing for my presence. This module, I dislike what it’s doing to my thought process. It needs to go.

  “Hey,” I announced. Kiara and Demi looked up at me briefly, the others were still mid-conversation. I don’t care for what they’re saying, so I can’t really hear it. “Some guy gave me a nicotine module. It’s still brand new if anyone wants it, but I’m throwing this thing the fuck out. It’s messing with my brain.” I declared, as I reached behind me, and spoke to the machine, but not with my words. 33 rows of cylindrical cases emerged along my spine, many of them already had chips inserted. I still don’t know what any of them do. But the six cylinders closest to my neck were shaped differently- Instead of chips, they took modules. All modules are formatted the same. Two centimetre square base, and six centimetres long. Regardless of what the module does, they must all fit this specification. Wait, how do I know that?

  By the time the nicotine module fell out and my slots retracted back into my body, Balor had finished preparing, and was walking out the door. It happened again the very second I got off it, the time blindness.

  “Let’s go!” Balor yelled back at me, as he hung at the edge of the door, holding it open with the tip of his middle finger.

  I followed him with haste. It was a long walk, but a familiar one. We’re heading back to the bar where I met Cade. The same vile wired trash who nearly made me kill someone. Zev's, I believe it was called.

  He stopped in front of the bar, and held his palm out to me, signaling me to stop. I watched him as he peered around the corner, into the alley between Zev's and their private parking garage. “Coast is clear.” Balor said as he waved two fingers toward the alley, directing me.

  I cautiously walk into the alley. I'm surprised I went in at all. Going into an alley alone with Balor seems the furthest thing from an intelligent decision, but Balor doesn't have that look in his eye. He's normally focused on me when I’m around, but it's different now. He's focused on the job and nothing else. Mind you, I still don't know what the job is. I’ll ask him. “Balor. What are we doing here?” I questioned him.

  “We’re waiting for someone.” He said shortly.

  “Who?” I insisted, raising my voice.

  “I’ll tell you later, be patient and be quiet. No more questions.” Balor answered with a growing irritation. I knew that was a good sign to shut up. It’s a good thing I don’t really need him to tell me. I’ve been to Zev’s before, and that bastard showed me a trick or two.

  It was like falling asleep and waking up inside a dream.

  Machine gun drums, the entrancing digital melody, the shouting, cheering, and the drizzle of private thoughts and conversations. It all assaulted my senses at once. I’m only looking for one thing here, the person we’re waiting for. I’d wager he’s going to stand out. Something like a nine-foot frame, with a full-face mask, green glowing streaks down a black full helmet. Exoskeleton masking his natural figure, chrome and matte black metal in place of fabric and skin. Long arms that extend past his knees and completely jacked with tech below the waist. This wire is far from anything allowed to the public, he’s practically a walking tank, and there’s no doubt this is our guy. What’s he saying?

  “Technically, the cherry silver isn’t even top tier. I get what you’re saying though. Dermal replacements combined with a cardiovascular upgrade, not only can your stamina outlast most, but your skin takes all the hits in a fight, keeping your organs safe. But that’s all it’s good for, battle. External wires will always be on top.” Argued the operative.

  His friend laughed in his face as he spoke, clearly intoxicated. “Bullshit. You look like a droid with that thing on. And what happens when you take it off, you’ve just got a basic controller? No mindcloud interface? You’re basically off the grid at that point, you low-tech neanderthal.”

  That stung the operative. He leered over his friend for a moment. “Fuck you man. At least my thoughts aren’t dictated by the cloud, you wired freak.” The operative huffed, before turning away and heading for the exit.

  I woke up to Balor staring at the entrance to the alleyway. He hasn’t taken his focus off, not even for a second. “Yeah, your plan is stupid. Screw this.” I spoke aloud, straightening my posture as I strode past Balor, my fingers hanging freely despite their metal casing.

  Balor stepped forward, and planted a frighteningly stern grip on my shoulder. “The fuck are you doing?” He demanded.

  I turn around and shove his arm off me. “I’m solving this problem myself. You don’t communicate with people by stalking them.” I shot back, before I turned from him and walked out of the alley, heading for the entrance to Zev’s. At this rate I would catch the operative before he made it to the door. And there is no way Balor would make a scene inside the bar, especially after what occurred just a couple days ago.

  As I entered the bar, I felt Balor's sizzling rage hot on my trail. Not metaphorically, either. The growing energy levels near Balor's speed walking figure were reaching something comparable to a thorium reactor core. I approach the operative with haste, stopping him in his tracks as he attempts to leave through the front door. “Killjoy, right? Codename Sigma Seven?” I spoke hurriedly, “I'm Tedd, and you need to get to the bar very quickly. We will speak there. You are in danger.”

  The operative- Sigma Seven was not stupid. His wire is external, but it's loaded with impressive sensor arrays. On the exterior, it looks like a war machine. But in reality, I can see this wire tapping every telemetry system on the block, decrypting wires and downloading private conscience data, and it’s non-stop ramming into my wire like a bull against a stack of bricks painted red. If all of my data weren't offline and isolated, I'd be bare to him. He's not a soldier; he's an intel power-hive. No wonder Balor was after him.

  Heh. I didn't even zone out this time, thought process completed in three seconds, just in time to catch his response. “If you're screwing with me, I will fry your nervous system.” Sigma Seven stammered, lacking confidence after his failure to penetrate my conscience. Walking backwards, he steps over to the bar and leans into a seat. He faced the entrance, weary of the one following him; who I know to be Balor, the scourge's intel guy. Or was that Kiara- nevermind. I followed him to the bar, and perched myself upon a seat, legs folded with my feet pointed into the bottom support bars, and hands planted atop each other on the seat, between my thighs. I face up at him.

  Sigma Seven had no patience. “Who is after me, will they attack me here, what do they want?” He asked irritably.

  “Balor is after you. I wouldn’t take my answer to that as your safety regardless of yes or no. And he wants to know every detail of Killjoy's plan of attack against the Scourge.” I answer gravely.

  “How-” Sigma Seven cut himself off, as he quickly observed my figure from top to bottom. A large green exclamation mark briefly flashed across the black glass dome covering his face. “You're him. The one who…” He cut himself off once again, as he took into account the audience overhearing him. Just like that, the royal flush he had tucked under his sleeve spilled out, and he began quaking nervously underneath his wire, and sweating. “What do I need to do to make it out of this alive?” He jittered.

  The doors slam open, and Balor stood there, at the entrance. “Everybody get the fuck out of my way!” Balor shouted out, his voice rumbling twofold over the music, shaking the floors and blowing the speakers instantly. The local volume was reduced to the loud chatter of the bar’s patrons, which then lowered to nervous murmurs, then silence, then a rush of footsteps, as Balor walked forwards through the crowd like Poseidon parting the ocean with a swing of his trident. The drones rushed out of the bar with great haste, leaving only the rest of Sigma Seven's unit, and The Hearth's resentful scowl at Balor's poor behaviour.

  “I’m afraid you're going to need to take it up with him now.” I murmur in defeat.

  …

  This is bad. I wasn't supposed to do that. I was supposed to wait with Balor, and we were going to track down the Operative and corner him in an abandoned lot, where Balor questions and then executes the operative. Now, not only are we both surrounded by Killjoy's most fearsome combat unit, but I'm completely at fault for risking Balor's life in what would otherwise be a smooth operation.

  …

  “Take what up with me, Tedd. Fact that you disobeyed orders, and forced my hand into this shit storm?” Balor spat as he approached me with clenched fists.

  “You'd be wise to leave and never come back right about now.” The Hearth rumbled over the quiet hissing of blown speakers and air conditioning.

  Without a beat, Balor drew on him, and shot straight at his head, the bullet grazing his ear and placing a hole dead centre in a hidden camera behind him, just to make sure he knew that wasn't a missed shot. Yet The Hearth wasn’t intimidated.

  Why wasn't he intimidated? Let’s slow down and take a look at that. Prior to entering the bar, Balor was emitting radiation comparable to a thorium reactor. Nuclear radiation is very harmful to humans, especially at that scale. So people should have been getting radiation burns, right? Wrong. The people of Deca Machina have evolved the ability to metabolize radiation. Brighton explained this concept to me during a stimulant test, where I was subject to massive amounts of radiation in order to test the upper limits of my wire's energy manipulation abilities. He pushed me until failure, at which point my skin started to wither and I felt ill. However, the magnet slab in the testing chamber was experiencing rapid particle decay at that point, so those levels are far beyond what- Okay, I'm getting off track. Point is, the level of ambient radiation has been increasing throughout the years. Not only is every generation more tolerant to higher levels of radiation, but most consumer wires absorb the brunt of ambient radiation rather than the flesh.

  So when I said Balor was emitting the radiation levels of a thorium reactor. I forgot to say, The Hearth was emitting radiation levels equivalent to the surface of our sun, for a brief moment. But why isn't everything burning? That is because wires transmit directed energy, using the power cloud as a proxy, all energy follows specific paths to avoid undesired interference.

  However, in this moment, that transmission is skipping the step of a proxy, and being sent directly from The Hearth into Balor's body.

  Balor's visage crashed down from confident to defeated in a manner of seconds, as the gradual breakdown of his wire began to set in. First, a slouch, and dilation of the pupils. Then, the upper body slumps over, the legs give out, and he collapses theatrically on his knees facing up, like a robot being deactivated.

  …

  If there is such a thing as God or Fate, I plead for you to explain why history is not repeating itself.

  …

  “You’re a lucky guy, Tedd.” Balor rasped out. The smell of burnt skin emanated from him. How is he alive after that? I watched where that power was flowing through. Maximum allowable output from Deca Machina’s power supply, 600 volts, 80 amps. That would not only instantly kill but incinerate any human being it passed through even briefly.

  “Lucky is right.” I replied with tension locking my chest in place. “But why- why am I lucky, and not this guy?” I asked, gesturing to the operative who stood towering over us.

  “I’ll take it from here, kid.” Sigma Seven assured me and knocked the surface of his mecha-hands off the top of my head. He approached Balor, taking slow, small steps despite his towering figure. Once he was right in front of him, he knelt down. “I’m seven. You’re Balor, right? The scourge’s big shot.” A malicious green smile spread out on Seven’s glass visor.

  Balor glared past Seven directly into my face.

  Seven continued, leaning further into Balor’s face. “Pop quiz, Balor. How does Zev’s bar manage to be a universal safe zone for all parties despite being in the heart of District 9’s criminal underworld? Who is the boogeyman enforcing that unspoken rule?” He patronized, before pointing to himself, then all the operatives within the bar. “Every single one of us, even Zev himself.”

  The Hearth- Zev, nodded in agreement. “It’s not something we publicize for obvious reasons, but you’ve forced my hand. Zeveren Frithia, commander of Killjoy’s infamous Sigma division, at your service. Now that you know, you’re not leaving here alive.”

  On his knees, body still paralysed with his nerves fried from the thermal overload, his eyes dully looked up at me as if to plead. “Well, Tedd. Now's your one and only, your last chance, to not fuck everything up. If you remember. If you remember ANYTHING. You'll get us out of this. Tap in, Owl.” Balor spoke to me, but not through his words, through his thoughts. His thoughts rushed through my own as if they were my own.

  …

  I have a bad feeling about this.