Ordinarily Original CyberImplant System.

I could hear his laughter in the distance, cold and menacing. It was getting closer, and with it, the feeling of death closed in.

Sullen and defeated, I prepared my final words, "What's there to live for anyway? I'm not special, never been and never will. Maybe that's why my life has led to this. I… can't even use drugs to numb this emptiness anymore."

Despair wasn't something I hated anymore—or even loved anymore. It was just... there. A constant, like the air I breathed. A natural emotion. 'I'm probably gonna die tonight,' I thought, my spine tingling like it was begging me to turn around before something sharp found its way through me.

"He's not that far behind! Don't die like this!" That's what my back might've yelled at me. But honestly?

Right here, right now?

Yeah, I could've made peace with dying like this.

I can live with this. I can accept it.

Because long ago I made the choice to live a certain way...

I thought right then and there, that I was gonna die with a smile on my face. 

Just as I braced myself to turn and face whatever was coming, a mysterious voice suddenly reverberated through my mind. She didn't come from anywhere I could pinpoint, but it was undoubtedly real.

She didn't come from anywhere I could see or place, but there was no questioning it. It wasn't a figment of my imagination or a trick of fear. 

I knew it.

"What if there is something that can?" The voice came again, steady and calm, as if it had all the time in the world. It wasn't jarring or shocking—more like a friend posing a question you couldn't ignore.

I didn't flinch. Didn't glance around. It was like the rustle of leaves on a chill night—present but distant, just out of reach. And for a brief moment, I questioned it: if I believed it was real, did that make it any less so?

"Don't know what's happening," I muttered, my voice and eyes cold and flat, like frost settling on glass. "But I hope this is real."

The moment those words escaped me, something shifted inside...It was a flicker of something I hadn't felt before.

It was more than just a spark; it was a surge. A force rising from within my core— an authentic, undeniable urge to survive.

"If there's something out there," I said, my voice slowly gaining strength, "I'd take it. I'd take it any day."

"Initializing new genesis of networks. Loading complete. Welcome to the Ordinarily Original CyberImplant System. Your implant is not based in the realm of technology. In other words, you are not bound to a controlled network. Your connection is with the universe itself."

Her words were calm, but they called to me like a purpose—meaningful, real, and inevitable.

"Believe it or not, for the next minute, you will have the strength of a B-tier cyber soldier. Rip him apart with your hands… if you have the guts."

And then, it hit me. A rush of power—total, unfiltered power. It coursed through me like lightning, each nerve ending sparking to life. I felt light as air, but also as solid as steel. Stronger than I had ever been.

I sensed it. I was no longer bound by my own human limits. I was capable of things I'd only dreamed of before—lifting a car with ease, moving faster than the eye could follow.

Bones? They were just an afterthought now, something that didn't hold me back anymore.

I was something else. And whatever was coming for me? I was prepared to do anything to ensure my survival.

Even if it meant tearing his heart out of his chest, I was ready.

I turned to face him, the one I couldn't afford to let live.

This wasn't just a standoff, it was the line between life and death. My glare cut through the space between us, unflinching and deadly, as if every ounce of my will was sharpened into a blade aimed right at his heart.

Swaying my hand lazily, I sauntered forward. A crazed laugh bubbled out of me, real and unfamiliar. "Why so soon?" I spoke to myself, my voice becoming even more egotistical, "I've never killed anyone before. But I don't have a choice, do I? Yeah… if there's no choice, then it's fine. It's fine to kill him."

The zyber soldier slowed his relentless pursuit, his patterned eyes narrowing. He stopped about fifteen feet away, his head tilting slightly as if he was trying to figure out what changed. My sudden confidence must've caught him off guard.

"They go crazy when they're facing death," he said, his voice harsh but laced with amusement. "You're a warrior, aren't you? Most people break down, crying and begging for mercy... You'll be useful to the empire. Maybe one day we could even be friends. Be thankful I'm not killing you."

Then he grinned—a cruel, malice-filled smile that made his intentions painfully clear. He wanted me dead. Figuratively? Maybe not. But what he was threatening was worse than death.

Being controlled for the rest of my life?

I'd rather die.

"Huh? Friends? With you? Who the hell are you to grimace at me like that? You're the one who invaded my home..." These words ignited something deep inside me, like a dormant fire roaring to life. My laughter cut off abruptly, replaced by a cold, focused rage.

I wasn't someone who lost my temper easily. Never had been.

That's what they thought, anyway.

The truth was, my anger had always been there. I just kept it locked away, controlled, never letting it unleash.

But now? Control was irrelevant. Survival was the only thing that mattered.

I tilted my head back for a quick glance at the sky, flexing my arms through the snug fabric of my black t-shirt. My gaze dropped to the soldier standing before me.

His fashion was undoubtedly stylish, that I'll give him. 

Better than my all-black fit with designer jeans on? No... in no world does this guy dress better than me.

He wore brown cargo shorts and a matching shirt, the vest over his torso packed with weapons. Despite his arsenal though, he wasn't reaching for any sort of gun.

He didn't think he needed to.

To him, I was just a weak, frail human.

How wrong he was.

He wasn't in a hurry either. His steps mirrored mine—slow but deliberate, like we were just two strangers navigating a crowded city sidewalk.

I spoke up, my voice low but cutting as I fixed my gaze on him. It wasn't hard to do, considering he only stood at about five foot ten. He struck me as the type to be insecure at that kind of thing, like his height alone was a sore spot. "Hey," I said, letting my words hang for a second. "Things have changed. More than your puny brain can imagine. On another note, I'm curious… how much blood do you think is in that body of yours?"

I didn't move after that. Didn't flinch, didn't blink.

I wasn't going to be the one on attack. I wanted to be the defender, the one standing firm. Let him make the first move.