The air in the Pit was thick with steam and the metallic stench of Grolak's failure. Kaiden stood amidst the wreckage—the shredded restraints, the sparking console, the engineer's unconscious body bleeding oil and something dark near the shattered mandible. His own body was a screeching mess of overworked servos. He knew the noise would draw a response team in seconds.
He tried to steady his breathing, but his vents only hissed smoke. Steam bled through the cracks in his ribs like a heartbeat trying to escape. In a shattered pipe nearby, he caught his reflection—a molten shape, a furnace pretending to be human. For a second, he wondered if this was what Jojun had seen in his final moments: proof of life through ruin.
Then the heavy, rune-etched bulkhead door at the end of the corridor shuddered and slid open.
But it wasn't the expected patrol of low-level grunts.
Standing there was Lord Zarkus.A Commander of the First Cohort—towering, severe, and wrapped in black plate armor inscribed with ancient glowing runes that thrummed with restrained power. He was the kind of creature who made the air seem thinner just by entering the room.
Zarkus stepped inside with deliberate calm, looking past Kaiden. His gaze swept the devastation—the cracked restraints, the smoldering walls, the still form of the chief engineer. His expression never changed. When his eyes finally lingered on Grolak's twisted body, he tilted his head slightly.
"Engineer Grolak," Zarkus said, his voice a deep baritone that resonated in Kaiden's chest plate. "He appears to have suffered a rather severe failure of structural integrity."
Kaiden's vents hissed, like a sigh. "He ran out of scrap metal to fix himself with."
Zarkus's gaze turned on him—glowing yellow eyes sharp and unblinking, like a predator examining a specimen that somehow bit back. "Your core surge lit up half the fortress, K-01. Hard not to notice when a corpse starts rewriting its own code."
He walked closer, his steps silent despite the weight of his armor. "Your performance report has been filed. I believe the new classification is 'Asset: Volatile.' We spent thirty-seven million Cinders reviving you. That investment was not for a dog on a short chain—or for scrap to be tossed into the abyss."
Kaiden leaned against the wall, his frame trembling as internal hydraulics sputtered. "Then why did he keep trying to turn my brain into cheap wire?"
"Because Grolak was an engineer," Zarkus said flatly. "He valued control above all else. I, however…" He placed a clawed hand against the scorched console, watching the molten metal cool under his touch. "I value utility."
Zarkus turned back to him, studying the faint violet shimmer beneath Kaiden's cracked plating. "You broke his system because his system was wrong. You were never meant to be a simple slave. The Void energy that brought you here—the energy you carry in that core—is incompatible with obedience. You are a threat, K-01. To us. To our technology. To the very order we maintain."
Kaiden's optics dimmed, his internal warning lights flickering red. "So, what now? You here to cut your losses?"
"Quite the opposite." Zarkus straightened, the runes across his armor pulsing brighter. "I'm here to offer you a new contract."
Kaiden gave a dry, metallic cough that sounded like a broken laugh. "I stopped signing those in my last life."
"This one offers far better terms than your previous employer, I assure you." Zarkus clasped his hands behind his back. "No more Maintenance Pit. No more Grolak. No more forced subroutines. We need to prevent the Human Emperor from acquiring you. Your existence—the 'torn through' phenomenon—is proof that the planar barrier of their realm has already weakened. If they reverse-engineer you, we lose the war before it begins."
He paused, letting the weight of that statement hang in the smoke.
"Therefore, you will be granted Rank II Autonomy within the First Cohort. You will be assigned to a new division—the Volatiles. You will report only to my command staff. Your missions will be surgical strikes, infiltration, destruction of key Human Empire assets. In exchange, you will retain control of your core."
Kaiden didn't move for several seconds. The word contract echoed through his mind like a curse.
Paper. Ink. A cheap pen in his old human hand. His manager smiling, telling him he was "lucky" to still have a job. Then the train. Then the dark.He'd signed his freedom away once before.And here he was, doing it again — only this time, his blood was oil and his heartbeat was a machine screaming against itself.
He looked down at his rusted, trembling hands — relics of a man too stubborn to die. "And what's the catch, Zarkus?"
"The catch," the Commander said, "is survival. You are still ours. You run, you die. But if you serve—and succeed—you keep your malfunction. You'll even have limited access to our archives on planar studies and human mages. For strategic purposes, of course."
Kaiden's head lifted slightly. Arvan Callister.That one name hummed in his mind like static across a dying radio.
Freedom. Power. A path to truth.
He straightened, each motion grinding like broken gears, but he refused to look small before Zarkus.
"Fine," Kaiden rasped. "I accept. But if one engineer lays a finger on my neck port without permission, I'll take his head off and weld it into my chest for extra plating."
Zarkus didn't smile, but his eyes gleamed faintly with something close to satisfaction. "I'll make sure Grolak is reassigned to the latrines. Welcome back to the army, K-01. The leash is still attached… but now you hold the handle."
Kaiden watched him turn to leave, the steam parting around the Commander like smoke around a blade.
As the new designation burned into his optical feed — VOLATILE UNIT — ACTIVE — he felt the faint pulse of the leash tightening again.Only this time, it pulled both ways.