A Deal with the Astral Fang

I awoke with a splitting headache, my eyes fluttering open to the harsh morning light flooding through massive floor-to-ceiling windows. Where was I? The last thing I remembered was being in that dark spaceship, my mind buzzing with fear and confusion. Now, I found myself in a huge room at the top of a skyscraper, complete with polished floors and an expansive view of a strange city below. The sight was breathtaking, but the uneasy feeling in my stomach quickly reminded me that this wasn't a vacation.

All around me, people were stirring—those same silent, pale-faced individuals I'd seen on the ship. At least they seemed a bit more alive now, if still disoriented. I felt dizzy myself, like my body had been put through a washing machine spin cycle. My legs shook when I stood, and I had to steady myself by gripping the nearest wall.

Before any of us could gather our wits, the door on the far side of the room slid open with a crisp whoosh. A woman entered, and my first thought was how tall she was—maybe around 185 centimeters. For me, a mere 165 centimeters, that felt enormous. 

But there was something else about her that drew my eye: the symbol on her eyebrow. It was similar to the Aries-like mark I'd seen on the spaceship guards, except hers had a small yellow star hovering just above it, as though signifying a higher rank. Her violet hair fell down her back in a glossy curtain, and when she finally spoke, her voice snapped me out of my daze

Before I could even finish processing it, she snapped at us.

"Listen up, worms!" she shouted, loud enough for the room to fall dead silent. "You all have aliens implanted inside you. That's why you can't remember anything. And if you refuse to follow orders, those same aliens will take over your body again, and trust me, it won't be pretty."

I froze. Aliens? Implanted? What the hell? My mind was racing, trying to process it all, when a large man from the back of the room burst out laughing. He was built like a tank, with a cocky smile plastered on his face. "Yeah, right. You think I'm gonna buy this alien crap? I'll knock the shit out of anyone who tries to stop me."

He started walking toward the door, but then something weird happened. His arm twitched, then snapped up—right into his crotch. He punched himself in the nuts over and over. He groaned and went down, eyes wide in pain as he blacked out from the repeated hits. Everyone just stared, horrified.

My stomach dropped. This is real.

The tall woman arched an eyebrow. "And that," she said, almost casually, "is what happens when you resist. The alien inside him responded to his hostility, forcibly taking control. Remember this, unless you want the same fate."

A few people let out shaky breaths, and I heard someone gulp. My mouth felt dry, and my heart hammered in my chest. This was real—terrifyingly real.

With the man unconscious on the floor, she continued, "Now that you understand your situation, I have good news. Each of you will receive 100 points on your personal 'Arsenal.' You can see this by opening your Monograph."

At the word Monograph, something in my mind clicked. A translucent screen flickered to life in front of my eyes, visible only to me. It displayed my personal stats:

Human Name: Light

Alien Name: Xyrr

Age: 17 years old

Height: miniature

pioPoints: 100

I stared at the word miniature, my face flushing hot. "You've got to be kidding me," I muttered under my breath. "Of all the things to list, it has to call me miniature? This shittygraph must have a sense of humor."

Then came the points. 100 points. That's it? I scrolled through the Arsenal. Holographic weapons, armor, and utilities floated in front of me like a video game store. There was so much to choose from, but everything was expensive. My 100 points wouldn't get me far.

"Let's see," I murmured, scrolling through the options. Swords with crazy attributes—gravity changes, physical enhancements, invisibility. There was even armor with speed boosts. My eyes skimmed over each one, but none of them felt right.

My eyes lit up as I examined a sleek katana with an invisibility trait. I imagined myself turning invisible mid-battle, sneaking behind an enemy for a sneak attack. That would be so cool… My face heated slightly at the thought of using invisibility for more, uh, mischievous endeavors, but I quickly shook off that daydream. Focus Light.

As I was about to finalize the katana, something strange happened. A soft whisper brushed against my mind. At first, I thought it was one of the other recruits talking to me, but no one was near. Then I realized the voice was coming from somewhere else—somewhere deeper.

Hey, short stuff… Over here…

My gaze snapped toward the far corner of the arsenal display. A spear hovered in the holographic lineup, its design sleek and deadly. It had an elongated, metallic shaft with glowing lines etched into the surface. A swirling cluster of energy formed the spearhead, giving it a cosmic vibe. As I moved closer, the whispering intensified.

Finally noticed me, huh?

I nearly jumped out of my skin. "What the hell—?"

The spear's name caught my eye: Astral Fang. I selected it, and a detailed description popped up:

Echo Strike: Once activated, you can throw the spear, and a phantom copy remains in your hand, allowing you to attack twice simultaneously or at different ranges.

Precognitive Reflex: Grants brief glimpses of future movements, helping you dodge attacks or strike with near-perfect timing.

Arrogant Ally: The spear has a mind of its own—and it's not shy about letting you know who's in charge.

Dissolving Form: The spear can revert into a tattoo on the wielder's right hand, changing shape at will.

Cost: 100 points.

I gulped. "All of it? Seriously?"

Got a problem with that, shorty? The voice was dripping with sarcasm. I'm worth every point.

I rolled my eyes. "Look, maybe I want to spend my points on a weapon and some armor. You know, spread it out a little."

Oh sure, you could get some cheap plastic swords and a tin helmet. Have fun with that. You'll probably die in your first real fight, but hey, at least you saved some points, right?

"Shut up Bastard" I hissed under my breath. A couple of other recruits glanced in my direction, but they seemed too absorbed in their own Monographs to pay me much attention.

I clenched my teeth. The spear was unbelievably cool. Echo Strike and Precognitive Reflex sounded like abilities that could really save my hide. But if I spent all 100 points on it, I wouldn't be able to get any armor or healing items. Then again, the pickings were getting slim—other recruits were finishing up, and I didn't want to be left with worthless scraps.

"Fine," I muttered. "But you'd better not break or something. If you do, I'm returning you for a full refund."

Ha! Good luck with that. You're stuck with me now, pipsqueak.

I tapped the purchase button. Immediately, the holographic display flickered, and the spear materialized in front of me, hovering for a moment before clattering to the floor with a metallic ring. I stooped to pick it up, noting how surprisingly light it felt in my hand.

"You weigh less than I thought," I murmured.

I've been on a diet, the spear quipped. You know, cutting back on the cosmic calories. Gotta keep my figure.

I nearly dropped it. This thing had jokes. "You're insane."

I prefer the term 'charismatic.' Now, shall we get going, or do you want to admire me some more?