The Stalker's eyes glowed like two perfect mistakes waiting to happen. It stood half-crouched at the far end of the chamber, long limbs tense, claws relaxed in the way only predators manage right before they decide which part of you they want first.
My new arm pulled at my shoulder with every breath. Heavy. Ridiculous. Useful but uncooperative. My right arm ached trying to counterbalance it. Battery at 47% and dipping as if it wanted to distance itself from the situation.
Cadence hummed like she was fighting her own echo."Iris, its stance indicates calculated aggression."
"Is there a stance that indicates it wants to go home instead."
"In Sentry units. No."
The Stalker shifted slightly, weight gliding from one limb to the other. Not noise, not threat, just intention. It moved in the slow, patient way that said I wasn't an opponent. I was a formality.
Cadence's tone sharpened."It is gauging your movement speed. It has the advantage in agility."
"Wow. Really. I couldn't tell from how it crawled across the ceiling like a nightmare."
"Observational sarcasm will not improve survivability."
"It's improving my mood."
"I am uncertain that matters."
The Stalker stepped left in a way that made the entire room feel narrower. I adjusted my grip on the Model Forty arm. The metal was so heavy it made my spine crack.
Cadence sighed in my ear, a glitch-rough sputter of static."Iris. You look like a child attempting to wield an industrial loading tool."
"I'm about to hit something with it. Does that help."
"No. It increases the likelihood you will injure yourself."
"Great. Love that positivity."
"I am providing accuracy."
The Stalker's head tilted, measuring, the cold white glow intensifying just a fraction. Enough to warn me, not enough to telegraph direction.
Then it disappeared.
Claws scraped along the wall to my right. A sound. A flicker. A shadow lunging sideways instead of forward. It was playing with angles again.
I turned sharply, boots skidding on grit."Cadence. Direction."
"Above."
I looked up.
Too late.
The Stalker dropped from the ceiling like gravity owed it a favor. I dove sideways, the heavy arm nearly yanking me off balance. The machine slammed into the floor where I had been, claws punching straight through the plating.
A shockwave rattled the debris.
Cadence muttered, "It is testing strike power."
"It has plenty. Thanks."
"You are welcome."
I shifted my weight and brought the Model Forty arm around in a wide arc, the servos whining under the strain. The momentum made my shoulder scream, but the blow caught the Stalker across its cranial dome and knocked it into a pile of collapsed scaffolding. Metal shrieked. Dust exploded upward.
For a moment, I got to breathe.
Then the Stalker stood again. No anger. No reaction. Just recalculating its approach like I was a mildly interesting puzzle.
Cadence flickered."Impact detected but minimal structural compromise. It will adapt."
"It already adapted."
"Then you must adapt faster."
I took breath, braced myself, and stepped back toward the narrower corridor leading deeper into the hallways.
The Stalker followed.
Not rushing.Not lunging.
Just walking.
Deliberate.Patient.
Cadence whispered, "It is forcing you toward a terrain disadvantage."
"I noticed."
"You should increase speed."
"You're starting to sound like a fitness coach."
"I am under stress."
We moved down a rusted hallway where the pipes overhead moaned quietly. Dust drifted with each vibration under our feet. The Stalker stayed just at the edge of lunging distance, occasionally testing the walls with its claws like it was mapping exits.
I hated how smart it was.
Cadence's voice softened, glitching around the edges."Iris. Slow battery decline is becoming moderate. You will be disadvantaged in prolonged conflict."
"That's been true since I woke up."
"Yes. But now it is worse."
"Great."
We passed through a narrow archway where the lights flickered in a pattern that looked suspiciously like Morse code for turn around now. The Stalker squeezed through behind me with sickening ease, its limbs shifting shape just enough to fit.
"Cadence," I said quietly, "give me something. Anything."
"Your heavy arm is a leverage advantage. If you strike at the correct vector with enough momentum, you can destabilise it."
"I'm carrying a metal tree. Momentum isn't the problem."
"Your balance is."
"Thank you for that."
"It is important to acknowledge weaknesses."
The Stalker lunged.
I jumped back, swung the arm upward and clipped its jaw. Sparks snapped across its neck. The machine recoiled and skittered sideways along the wall like a reflection that didn't want to belong to the floor anymore.
Cadence said, "That was effective."
"Good. Let's repeat it."
"No. It has already learned that angle. It will not allow a second repetition."
"Fantastic."
We reached another chamber, this one narrower but tall, ceiling lost in shadows. Broken machinery lay scattered across the floor. A network of hanging cables swayed gently overhead like vines waiting for a breeze.
I stepped inside.
The Stalker followed.
Cadence's voice dipped to a whisper."Iris. This location has one advantage."
"Which is."
"Vertical clutter. Its primary movement advantage becomes more predictable."
"So you're saying it can only murder me in straight lines."
"For now."
"That is the least comforting thing you've ever said."
"I will attempt to improve."
"No. Please don't."
The Stalker climbed upward suddenly, claws sliding along a support beam. Dust drifted down. Pale white eyes glowed between the cables.
Watching.
Measuring.
Cadence spoke again, hesitant."It is waiting for the optimal moment."
"So am I."
"Iris, that is not encouraging."
"It wasn't meant to be."
My battery ticked to 44%.
The Stalker finally made its move.
A blur of limbs. A drop from above. A sweep aimed at my ribs with mechanical precision.
I twisted away, swung the heavy arm sideways, and caught it along the shoulder. The blow rocked it off trajectory. It slammed into a stack of broken machinery, collapsing the pile in a spray of shards.
Cadence almost sounded impressed."Good. Again."
"It's getting up again."
"Yes. That is generally required for repetition."
The Stalker rose from the rubble. Slower this time. Slight hesitation.
A weakness. Small but real.
Cadence whispered, steadying her voice."Iris. You may not defeat it here. But you can injure it enough to survive long enough to reach a better tactical location."
"And where is that."
"Forward corridor. Approximately twenty meters. Elevated terrain. Better footing. Less ceiling access."
"So I can fight it without it dropping on me every five seconds."
"Yes."
"Perfect."
"But you must reach it."
The Stalker charged.
I swung the Model Forty arm, braced my legs and met it halfway, metal slamming into metal hard enough to rattle the floor.
Cadence spoke through the impact."Iris. Move. Now."
And I ran.
The Stalker followed.