The lights hum before I open my eyes. They always do, like they've been gossiping while I slept.
The HUD drags itself into focus, text settling across my vision.
Strength: 1
Speed: 3
Skills: *blank*
Combat Score: 4
Components: Advanced AI Core, Vision Enhancement Level 1
Weapons: *blank*
ID: *blank*
Division: *blank*
Battery: 40%
"Forty percent," I mutter. "Running on optimism again."
Cadence stirs in my head, tone bright as static. "You slept six hours. Power retention below standard."
"I call it exhaustion."
"Semantics."
The air tastes like metal and recycled breath. Everything hums, pretending to be alive.
"Charging recommended," she says.
"Yeah, I can feel it."
"How would you describe the sensation?"
"Hungry."
"You are not equipped for hunger."
"Then explain why I want to gnaw on the outlet."
"That is not advised."
I pull the cable from the wall and connect it to the port at my ribs. The lock clicks. Warmth floods through my chest, like a slow exhale through metal lungs.
"Feels weird," I say.
"Not weird. Efficient."
"Feels like dinner."
"Then chew quietly."
The HUD flickers upward.
Battery: 46 %
Charge rate: Stable.
When it hits sixty, the ache in my hands fades.
"Better?" she asks.
"Still hungry."
"Impossible."
"Then explain how it works, genius."
Cadence sighs. "Meaning you can still eat."
"So how do I shi...."
Cadence cuts me off. "We extract nutrients from food. They sustain your organic systems. What remains converts to bioelectric charge."
"And if I do not?"
"You will eat yourself. Slowly. Gracefully. Very sustainable."
"Like compost with opinions."
"Precisely."
The charge climbs higher. Warmth pools beneath my skin, spreading to the edges of my fingertips.
"Power at sixty-two percent," Cadence says.
"Almost civilized."
"Marginally."
The door slides open before I can answer. Mara fills the frame, expression already somewhere between irritation and fatigue. "Rhea wants you outside. The relay's pulsing again."
"Good news or new problem?"
"Both."
I unplug. The cable sags like it's disappointed to be left behind.
Outside, the air is bright, hot, and restless. The compound hums louder than usual. People move faster, speak less. The smell of dust, oil, and sweat clings to everything.
Rhea waits near the east gate with a tool pack slung across her shoulder. The relay field glows faintly in the distance, buried in sand but not dead yet.
"It woke up on its own," she says.
"Signal's cleaner than before."
"Cleaner as in working?"
"As in working for once."
Mara gestures toward it. "Go. I'll keep an eye on the perimeter."
We walk through the dunes until the relay rises ahead of us, an old scar of metal and glass. Its panels pulse beneath layers of sand. Light leaks through the cracks in slow rhythm.
"Feels alive," I say."
Technically it is," Rhea replies. "These things linked local shelters before the Collapse. Emergency grid. Short range."
"So we're repairing civilization, one antique at a time."
"Something like that."
I crouch beside the casing, brush away sand, and touch the edge. The pulse strengthens.
Cadence hums, all analysis now. "Old defence frequency. Compatible with your neural range."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning you can talk to it."
"I'm not great at making new friends."
Data floods my vision. The relay's hum rises, steady and clean.
"Power routing restored," Cadence says. "Grid node 12-A stabilizing."
Rhea checks her reader. "Three shelters online. Maybe an outpost. It's working!"
"See," I say. "Sometimes I fix things instead of breaking them."
"An unexpected skill," Cadence remarks.
For a moment, the compound behind us comes alive again. Lights steady. Generators smooth out. Distant laughter breaks through static air.
"Local morale increased," Cadence observes.
"Good," I say. "Maybe now they'll stop looking at me like a landmine."
Then I see it: something half-buried near the relay base, catching sunlight like a coin.
"What's that?" I ask.
Rhea kneels beside me. "Could be junk."
"It's glowing."
I dig it free. The object fits in my palm, smooth, humming faintly. The glow deepens when I touch it.
Cadence's tone shifts. "Signature recognized. Compatible upgrade detected."
"Meaning?"
"You can integrate it."
Before I can argue, light runs from the object across my hand, thin filaments crawling up my arm. The glow sinks beneath the surface. My HUD flares white, then steadies.
New component detected. Holographic Projector Level One. Range five meters.
"What did you just do?" i mutter.
Cadence states "Upgraded,"
"Without permission?"
"Permission is an optional feature."
Cadence hums. "Integration complete. Testing."
Light flickers beside me, forming into a shimmering outline. Then, in a blink, it resolves into a perfect copy of me.
Rhea gapes. "Its' you, you're talking to yourself..."
Cadence, through the projection, says, "Technically accurate."
I cross my arms. "Perfect. Now everyone will think I'm insane."
"Try a new look."
The projection ripples. My double shifts into a version of me with smooth skin and both eyes organic.
"No. Too depressing."
The image flickers again. Male, tall and muscular.
"Better?" she asks."
Only if we start a band.
"One more shift, asymmetric, blue-tinted figure, translucent and softly radiant.
"This feels balanced," Cadence says.
"Congratulations," I reply. "You invented imaginary friends in high definition."
"Correction. We are more than just friends."
Rhea breathes out a small laugh. "It's beautiful."
"It's unsettling," I say.
"Efficient," Cadence adds. "Now people will stop thinking you're talking to yourself, Until they realize you're talking to yourself."
The hologram stands beside me, arms folded, same stance, same rhythm. The relay hums in sync with the faint light from her outline.
Rhea glances at her display. "No interference. The grid's stable. Whatever that thing was, it didn't break anything."
"Then we call it a win."
Mara's voice crackles through the radio. "Status?"
"Relay's active," Rhea replies.
"No issues."
"You're glowing like the fourth of July. That counts as an issue." I mutter.
"Don't start." rasps Cadence
The silence that follows feels heavy. The relay's pulse slows to a heartbeat rhythm, calm and steady.
Moments pass, Cadence's projection tilts her head, listening. "Do you feel that?"
"Feel what?"
"Vibration beneath the signal."
My HUD flashes a warning.
Movement detected. Unknown signatures. Distance three-point-two kilometers.
I straighten. "False reading?"
"Negative," Cadence says. "Organic and mechanical. Too synchronized for wildlife...
..."Heat traces. Dozens."
"Travelers?" I suggest.
"Scavengers," Mara's voice cuts in. "They eat the living parts, strip the mechanical ones. Move fast."
Rhea pales. "They're heading right for the signal."
Cadence's hologram crosses her glowing arms. "At least they're punctual."
"How long until they arrive?" I ask.
"Two minutes," Cadence answers.
"Enough time to regret everything," I respond.
Rhea glances over at the console. "If we run now, the grid dies. We'll lose the shelters."
"Then it stays up," I say. "Let's get back to the base and prepare to hold our ground."
The wind shifts. The dunes shudder. A distant rumble rolls toward us, metal and engines screaming through heat.
Rhea whispers, "They saw the signal. We called them here."
Cadence's projection stares in my direction. "At least they answered."
The HUD glows crimson. Threat proximity warning. Estimated arrival: imminent.
Mara's voice through static, clipped and hard. "Fall back. Everyone inside. Do not stay exposed."
The relay hums deeper, like it senses the threat. Vibrations emitting faintly through the sand.
"Battery at 61%," Cadence notes. "Out-gunned but dramatically overconfident."
"I'd rather die interesting."
From the horizon comes the roar of engines and the glint of broken sunlight on metal.
Rhea looks at me. "They're coming."
"Let them," I say. "I was getting bored."
The hologram beside me fades into the wind, leaving the faint taste of ozone.
The desert begins to move.