Chapter 2 - The World Under

Vincent sat on a stool, watching as his large friend rummaged through a crate filled with metallic hands and feet.

Daniel's workshop had no windows, yet the entire space was bathed in harsh fluorescent light. The fixtures varied in size and shape, none of them matching. Shelves divided the room into three sections, their contents arranged in an organized mess. From the ceiling beams hung a skeletal robot and a deflated full-body synthetic skin, swaying slightly in the artificial breeze from an old fan.

Dan finally lifted his reddish head and pulled off his goggles with a triumphant grin. "Found it!"

In each hand, he held a black robotic arm which were skeletal, with tattered wiring. He raised them like prized trophies.

"Here, pick one! The ZX 240 or the Charles Version 3.0? One shoots, the other turns into a sword!"

Vincent's gaze dulled. He stared straight into Dan's twinkling eyes, which his goggles did nothing to hide.

"Spare me the tetanus and sepsis. I need to kill a parasite, not get a body mod from the junkyard."

Dan gasped mockingly. "I'm hurt! I sterilized them!"

"Yeah? Well, you can't even kill alien bacteria with industrial-grade bleach—"

"Ahem, it's R463's bacteria."

Vincent snorted. "Why the clarification?"

"Because as of yesterday, another planet sent their rock crashing into ours. This one came from 134 light-years away! Can you believe that?!"

Dan slapped the only empty space left on his cluttered desk. A few colorful energy drink cans toppled over.

"Sure. But don't drag me into another one of your wild theories. I need a cleaning before next week."

Dan froze mid-motion, about to pick up the fallen cans. His incredulous eyes locked onto Vincent.

"You weren't kidding?! I thought you only came to get rid of your mortal flesh!"

Vincent conveniently ignored the last part. He turned on his stool, lifted his hair, and pulled down the fabric covering his marking. A sharp hiss escaped him at the tug on his right arm, but he paid it little mind.

Dan was at his side in an instant. The sound of his goggles powering up filled the space as he zoomed in for a closer look.

"Holy shit... it's real."

"Think we can just yank it off?"

"Are you insane? Once the symptoms start, there's no yanking it off. The damn thing burrows into your spine. You wanna get paralyzed? Go ahead, buddy—if you're lucky."

"Then get a cleaner for me. I don't want it."

"Yeah? And where in this junkyard would I find one?"

Dan dragged over a mismatched stool and sat in front of Vincent, arms crossed.

"Now, be honest. I doubt you got healthy overnight. Where'd you steal the little fella from?"

Vincent's mouth fell open, eyes wide.

"I didn't. I woke up slipping between reality and the shadows."

"Lie. CX parasites need proper nutrients to survive—more so to grow. Meanwhile, you're nothing but skin and bones, your blood's mostly caffeine, and you recently drank that death-wish coffee Angel made to kill me."

"Hah... My questions exactly."

A long silence settled between them, making the fan's whir and Dan's PC hum unusually loud.

Vincent looked languid, though his mind raced for ways to get a CX cleaner. While clinics would starve him, buying this one would land him in jail.

The government loved their parasites. They sang about how a new dawn would rise with every Sanctuary citizen becoming a Host. That hosting was the only way to survive this godforsaken world.

Killing humanity's "only hope" was naturally illegal.

"Hmm, we could sell it for good money. Just gotta make sure they provide the cleaner," Dan muttered, dragging his stool back to his desk. His fingers flew over the keyboard, ignoring his mouse.

A website called AnyAuction soon filled the screen.

"That place? Is there even a demand for it?"

Vincent moved closer, dragging his stool over, the floor marked by years of similar movements.

"There's always demand for something. With the end of the world, everyone either wants a piece from the past or something to secure their future."

Dan navigated the UI with ease, quickly filling in the seller's information from memory.

"Mark the ability as random. I want this parasite gone by tomorrow if possible."

Dan complied, finishing the form within minutes. All that was left was to publish it.

But just as his cursor hovered over the button, his goggles started beeping before mimicking an old high pitched siren alarm.

He shoved them over his eyes, checking what the commotion was.

"Shit! You've been tracked, Cents!"

Vincent cursed under his breath. Both bolted from their stools, sprinting toward the switches.

One flip sent the shelves sinking into the ground. Another concealed the wall-mounted equipment behind seamless covers.

Vincent reached for the chains meant to hide the hanging cybernetics, but a sharp burn in his right shoulder reminded him of his injury.

"Go take care of the crates, I got this one."

Dan yanked the chain from his hands, pulling it down effortlessly. The tangled mess disappeared, replaced by a smooth ceiling lined with four, matching fluorescent lights.

Vincent clicked his tongue and pivoted sharply, kicking the crates into place before sinking them into the floor.

He scanned the room. What had been a cluttered workshop now looked like a sterile, empty office.

Except for the iron door.

"Now what?"

This was a new setup. He hadn't been here in months. The usual backdoor was gone.

"Huh? The chute—fuck! I forgot to open the chute!"

Thud!

The iron door shuddered under a single, crushing impact.

"That's enough. I can see the bolts."

A voice. Familiar. Briefly dragging Vincent back to the past.

'The Iron Warden...?'

His mind blanked.

The bolts securing the iron door vanished in an instant.

Vincent's body moved on instinct.

His hand lunged for Dan's shoulder, reaching for the same sensation he'd felt when he fell into the void.

Bang!

The door was kicked open.

A rush of uniformed enforcers stormed in with practiced precision.

Then came him, tall and blonde, moving at a casual pace. Sharp blue eyes swept the room, lazy but knowing.

"Empty?"

Not even dust remained.

Vincent was underneath it all.

He stood on nothing, surrounded by an endless black void while the world above carried on. The room was still visible, vivid and intact, but in his sight, the floor had vanished, revealing Dan's hidden cybernetics.

'Did I just… glitch?'

His body felt like it was in a constant state of freefall. Moving wasn't about stepping forward but about imagining himself closer to his destination or further away.

He couldn't hear his own hammering heart, but the voices above were crystal clear.

"The carrier's last known location was here. Since there's no report of anyone claiming to be a host at the Ward, the parasite might not have chosen him yet."

A woman stood beside the Iron Warden, adjusting her glasses as she swiped through data on a sleek glass tablet.

Vincent's hands clenched into fists, heat rising to his face as he took in the sight of the blond nightmare.

"No matter. Let's blast it," the Iron Warden said with a shrug.

The woman, Elaine, jerked her head toward him, momentarily thrown off. "But there are no heat signatures."

"So? You can't assume parasites always manifest the same way, Elaine. An invisibility trait with a heat mask could appear anytime."

He clapped her shoulder, already turning away, and lazily waved a hand toward the enforcers.

"Understood," Elaine muttered, adjusting her glasses once more before following.

One of the enforcers pulled a black disk from his belt, a small red light blinking at its center. He planted it on the floor and clicked a button. The team was already moving, gone before Vincent could even register the danger.

His breath hitched. His head snapped toward Dan, who was still suspended in the void. He pushed, willing them both to sink deeper—

But the bomb went off first.

A red flash pulsed outward, flickering like the dying heartbeat of a man beyond saving. It devoured iron, creeping into every corner of the room.

From his vantage point beneath reality, Vincent saw it all. Watched the destruction unfold.

Then he looked at himself.

Untouched.

'...A different dimension? Or immunity to explosion...'

The remains of the room crumbled as the iron door disintegrated. The reinforced bricks the walls prided on was gone in that instant. The enforcers swept through again, scanning for any trace of life.

Nothing.

There was a long inhale through the silence. Then, a sharp exhale.

"Let's fall back. We've made too much noise. If the parasite chooses him, we'll use a mild cleaner to fish it out."

The Iron Warden didn't wait for confirmation. He was already gone. The others followed, leaving behind a silence so thick it rang in Vincent's ears.

Ten minutes passed. And then, there were soft footsteps.

A lolita-dressed girl stepped into the ruined space, stopping at the center. More figures lurked behind her at the entrance, goths peeking over each other.

"They're gone."

She crossed her arms, glancing around before exhaling in exasperation.

"You can come out now, brother." Her brow twitched. "Did he take Cents outside? Without me??"

Vincent let go.

The void peeled away, cold slipping from his skin like water draining from his lungs. Air rushed in.

Dan gasped to life.

"Chute! The chutes! The—" His hands clutched at his head as he turned, eyes still wide with leftover panic. "What the fuck?"

He froze.

The goths stood there, watching.

"Yo, did you all get parasites too? Why wasn't I invited?"