Molls reached out for my hand, eyes swimming with tears. I hesitated, but took it, and she slithered into place at my side. Her body was low, and she was leaning toward me, shuddering, and blinking often.

I sighed.

She was in shock and it was my fault. But Retha had been rushing her with a knife!

Not me.

They were trying to assassinate our priest, and that was also my fault. I had gotten her into this by naming her earlier in the day, and then to top it off I had failed to recognize that and left her outside the fortifications and at their mercy.

That made me realize the injured Hobb was also my fault and I paled as I looked at Rayna. She had taken over and was hauling him with another Hobb on the other side, a fresh bandage already soaking through wrapped around his midsection. The weight of my fuck-ups and failures crushed me as we ran through the desert back to base.

I just hoped everyone would be okay. Fuck me. It’s a miracle any of us has survived this long.

Rayna’s troops collected as we moved, falling into place, and helping cover us as we ran. Both squads had run into no trouble, and they arranged their shields around Molls and the injured Hobb as they entered our march.

One of them created a ramp for Molls to easily climb the wrought iron fence at the edge of the campground and we were on the road in almost no time. The gate loomed close when Tolya screamed a warning at us, pointing frantically to our rear.

“Mordren!” The urgency in her voice spurred me to faster movement, and Molls suddenly tore free of my hand and slipped inside the open gate. I could hear her screaming the entire way, but it took me a moment to register that it was her making the sound.

Everything was coming at me too fast, and I wasn’t able to properly deal with any of it.

But when all the people around me quickened their pace, I did too. We sprinted as a guttural roar sounded behind us. It was in the campground, and I could hear footsteps racing closer.

Whatever it was, it covered ground in a hurry.

By the time I made it in the gate, Tolya was already heaving to swing it closed.

Rayna and the injured Hobb made it inside just in time, and then the gate clanked close and Tolya threw the simple deadbolt. A weight slammed into it and the doors swung inward so hard they knocked Tolya flying.

She tumbled to a stop in the gravel a dozen feet away, and the Mordren roared again. It clawed the gate, and metal screamed in the night, and then its head peeked over the top and I realized it was almost as tall as our wall.

A horribly reptilian face rose beside the gate, with a single gleaming eye blinking at us. I saw a patchwork of hardened armor scales, an eye with a shining red pupil, and a ridge of head spines before Rayna’s Hobbs opened fire.

The face vanished with a growl.

An instant later, massive claws gripped the top of the wall, and the Mordren vaulted over it effortlessly, landing in the middle of the driveway.

The Mordren came from a small race of lizard-men. They were once three feet tall, and kind of cute. With big, armored segments all over their bodies, they became natural soldiers when BuyMort came to their world.

But integrating into the BuyMort system meant different things for different species, and to the Mordren, it represented an opportunity to ‘follow the path of the dragon,’ an important cultural adage about self-improvement and survival. Over the millennia that passed since BuyMort consumed the Mordren, their species had become something significantly different than it had started off as.

What I looked at in Mr. Sada’s driveway was just over ten feet tall, and hugely muscled. A massive, walking lizard, with razor sharp claws and teeth, loomed over the compound. Our own personal Godzilla, wearing tactical gear and cracking its knuckles looking for a fight. Thick armored plating covered its body, and when Rayna’s Hobbs opened fire on the monster, I could see the rounds sparking from it.

It also wore armor, a full-body outfit of it covering everything but its head, hands, and feet.

Still, the thing flinched at the gunfire, so I raised my own shotgun and let it have a few pellets. It lashed out with a kick and sent three of the BlueCleave Hobbs flying. Thankfully, they sailed into one of my piles of air mattresses and were moving again as soon as they landed.

Phyllis engaged it then, taking an aggressive step forward and raising her fusion cannon. It turned to face her and charged, dropping to all fours to race across the driveway and leap onto the mech.

The fusion blast went wide, whistling over the wall as the Mordren grappled with the mech. I could hear Phyllis inside, straining, and my fear spiked as I ran to secure Molls. I got her in the house’s doorway before turning to run back to Phyllis.

She and the Mordren were locked in combat, rolling violently in the driveway. The mech’s grip on the creature had shifted to a leg, and Phyllis’ other arm was still trying to aim the fusion cannon at it. It had the cannon in a firm grip, and kept the weapon pointed away while it discharged several times.

Most of the shots went into the sky, but three slammed into the newly constructed wall. It held up, but the weapon left giant scorch marked craters in the mud wall. The BlueCleave Hobbs in the line of fire dove out of the way of the last blast as it rocketed into the wall.

Then the Mordren did something stupid and hurt my friend. It stomped on Phyllis’ free arm with a foot, pinning the mech to the ground.

Phyllis grunted. “Oh, well now that’s just rude,” she protested.

Then the Mordren reached down and gripped the mech’s collar with one hand. It reared back and slammed the machine to the ground.

The hit hurt, she yelped in pain. I started moving toward the fight again, making sure I had a round in the shotgun. The Mordren slammed Phyllis into the ground one more time, and she made a strangely sharp grunt, before the mech went still entirely.

I roared in anger and raised my shotgun, firing at the Mordren and watching as the shot sparked from its natural armor plating.

Tolya grunted something from beside me and shoved her way past, moving to circle it. She was bleeding from her forehead, but otherwise appeared unhurt. It focused on her again and she ducked, as the Mordren’s tail whipped through the air above her.

I cycled my weapon and fired again, aiming at its face. Hardened eyelids slammed into place impossibly fast and protected it from my shotgun blast, but then it turned to me with a toothy snarl.

Molls screamed at me to run, and instead I racked the slide on my shotgun. The Mordren reached down and grabbed me with both hands. It brought me up to its face with the clear intention of biting my head off, so I shoved the shotgun into place between its lips and its gums and jerked the trigger.

The Mordren screamed in agony and squeezed me. When I say squeezed, I mean it reflexively crushed my ribcage and spine, and impaled my abdomen with all of its clawed fingers.

Molls screamed from the doorway again, and then I fell limp to the ground beside Phyllis. A cartoon starfish popped into my vision and looked at me with wide eyes. It raised an arm to its forehead and peered close.

“Damage detected user. This is a lot of work! You’ll need to break some things once we get started,” it chirped at me and I grunted, trying not to scream in agony.

I was broken.

Badly.

I could feel every bit of how broken I was, and it panicked me deep. My brain recognized the certainty of my death when I couldn’t take a full breath and couldn’t cough though I violently needed to. My blood slicked the ground underneath me already, and I could see the look Rayna gave me as I gaped like a fish.

I was not a patient she was going to rush to attend.

Then something in my lungs convulsed. Blood sprayed through the bars of my helmet, and I drew a ragged, tiny breath. The painkiller was in me already, but this was too much for even it.

I felt the internal tendrils start their work as the chest turbine wound up, and turned to watch the battle unfold before me, from the vantage point of my puddle.

I needed some distraction from the snapping and grinding happening inside my own torso. Apparently, I had hurt the Mordren, badly. The shotgun at point blank range had torn off part of the reptilian monster's face, and it was bleeding profusely from its scalp and mouth. When it whirled with a roar of anger and tried to slash at Tolya, she dove into a roll and it missed, turning toward me briefly.

I could see the damage I had done to it and was grimly satisfied to see that I had taken its eye on that side. It was squeezed shut, but still dribbling blood. Rayna and the BlueCleave tribe was using that to their advantage, moving to keep a threat present on its blind side, while avoiding its counter attacks. The Mordren screamed in frustration and slashed, chasing after a Hobb.

Molls arrived at my side and I looked up at her. My back popped, and suddenly I couldn’t move at all from the shoulders down.

Molls screamed as bone and tissue ground its way out of my chest turbine in a fountain and spattered her new clothing.

I croaked at her but couldn’t make any words happen, merely chokes and gasps. My chest and lungs were too mangled to manage the apology I desired from them.

She looked down to me at the sound, and her eyes welled up with tears again. She sobbed, and then whirled to look at the Mordren. It was rampaging after the Hobbs. Molls stared at it hard, and when she turned back to face me, anger had replaced the fear. Her scales deepened from yellow to orange, and then flushed a deep red. She charged the Mordren as my replacement spinal pieces were being installed.

The creature had dropped me right next to Mr. Sada’s Tesla, and I started climbing it as soon as I could breathe again. My ribs began being torn away and replaced next, and random globs of gore were ejected against the car from my turbine. I never expected bone to be so wet, but it came out like thick jelly.

Lasers and flesh paste shooting tendrils swarmed around the outside of my body as more operated on the inside. The machine must have been creating artificial blood for me, because when I looked down at the pool soaking my legs and feet, it registered as a non-survivable amount at a glance, even through the cloud of drugs and emotions.

Not much below the waist worked very well by the time I managed to drag myself up to the side view mirror and drape an arm around it, but I did manage to notice that Mr. Sada had gotten his window fixed from the day before.

I grinned and dripped bloody spittle as I reached back a fist and smashed out his driver’s side window. The turbine spun up faster, and more bones began to pop. Something tore free in my midsection, and I felt a thick replacement being shoved into place.

I leaned over and smashed the rear window on the driver’s side.

More slop spewed from my turbine and covered the side of Mr. Sada’s Tesla in gore. Thankfully it was low enough to miss going in the windows. Then something popped into place in my back, and I could stand again.

Once I got my legs under me, I staggered around to the back of the car and smashed the rear window before my starfish appeared again and saluted.

“Good work user! You have enough charge to finish your current repair!” It announced gleefully, and then vanished.

I broke the other two windows on my way by the other side of the car, just to be safe. Both fists shot through the glass and I started marching toward the Mordren again, overcharged and angry.

Rayna was running out of Hobbs, the Mordren kept knocking them aside and injuring them.

As I ran around the corner, the Mordren finally got Tolya with a tail whip, and she rocketed toward me. I dove to intercept, and we tumbled to the gravel in a series of abrasions and grunts.

My starfish appeared and gasped at the fresh injuries. It shook its head, gave me a stern look, and tendrils slid out from between the armor plates to get to work.

Tolya rolled free and shouted, but when she saw it was me, just nodded and offered me a hand up. I was glad to accept it, but before she could say anything, I ran for the Mordren.

Molls had finally engaged it, and as I watched, she slid around it in a series of rapid movements, wrapping her tail around its entire body.

The Mordren howled as its limbs were crushed to its sides. Molls screamed back in its face, opening her mouth fully and distending her jaw in anger. Her hands were balled into fists and she heaved, trying to apply crushing force to the monster.

It stood firm, and I could see the look on its face. It was going to hurt her.

I ran, stumbling. The shotgun lay forgotten behind me, in a giant pool of blood. I was moving on synthetic blood and whatever this painkiller was. My new composite bones worked better than my originals, and those were a paste mostly sprayed across Mr. Sada’s Tesla and driveway anyway. Spilled milk. As I ran, I saw the Mordren’s claws flash, from roughly the middle of Molls coils. Her blood splashed against the backyard tile in the moonlight, and she screamed in pain.

Molls uncoiled, rapidly, falling aside. I saw her blood on the tile, and in the air, and I charged. My arms pumped and my blood soaked shoes slapped the gravel. All I could think about was how still Phyllis was, and how red Moll’s blood was in the air as I moved.

Time slowed for my mind as memory surged and gripped me again. This time, my father and I were in Pakistan, and I was thirteen years old. An old man with deeply wrinkled brown skin, a long wispy white beard, and a plain, dirty turban wrapped around his head sat in a chair opposite my father. A platter of tea sat between us at a small table outside this man’s home. He was famous for helping people, and my father’s quest had eventually led to this man.

“The issue, of course, is not with your son at all, Mr. Dawes. The boy is possessed of tremendous natural talent, he is a savant. If he played piano, we would celebrate him and compare his ability with music to Mozart or Bach.”

The man templed his fingers in front of his beard and looked over at me with serious eyes.

“The issue with your son’s tremendous gift is the world it was born into. Violence is not a gift, in this world, it is a terrible burden. A responsibility. Your son’s gift must be buried in a box, hidden from the world. Never to be opened, except at the edge of great need.”

This man, this guru, mystic, healer, whatever you wanted to call him. This man had finally helped me. I understood what my problem was, after we left him. In order to exist in the world as it stood, I simply could not use violence, no matter what my instincts told me. I swore off violence that day, and began my therapy as soon as I returned home. I repressed and suppressed every violent urge I had from that day forward, until it became a habit, and I was no longer consciously aware of it.

The edge of great need had simply never arrived for me, since that day in Pakistan. Until the mordren hurt Molls. It all came rushing back to me, and as sure as I had been about the abandonment of violence then, I was more than sure about embracing it again. I let go entirely, and let my instincts carry my movements as I pumped my arms and charged.

Molls’ body came clear just as I hurtled into the Mordren. I just ran at it full force, with my head slightly lowered. The top of my helmet bashed into the Mordren’s nose, and it squealed as it toppled over backward onto the ground. One claw went to the tip of its nose, where blood fountained.

The other hand I immediately stomped on. It was open in the dirt as the Mordren lay on its side, and I took a stepping leap to land on it with both feet, heel first. The armor plating across the reptile’s body didn’t protect him from crushing damage, and I felt bones first break, then shatter, as the Mordren’s scream became piercing.

Its jaws stood wide, and it hissed viciously at me, before swiping with its claws.

I raised an arm and allowed it to tear ribbons out of my own forearm, before grabbing its wrist with my hand. More lasers sprouted from my starfish to begin emergency cauterization.

The Mordren hauled on me, dragging me closer when I refused to let go of its wrist.

I left the ground in a jump and kicked the Mordren in the same place my helmet had bashed it. The creature squealed and tried to wrest its hand back from me as my cartoon starfish arrived to dance in joy at how much charge I was getting for it.

I just launched myself on top of the Mordren, and then twisted savagely as we landed. The arm dislocated in both the elbow and the shoulder, and the sound of mixed anger and pain became pure pain again.

The Mordren squealed loudly and started trying to scoot away from me with its back legs. Both arms were cradled into its midsection, as well as it could with the injuries.

It was then that I noticed Rayna and her Hobbs all gathered around. They held weapons at the ready but were just staring at me.

I looked down at my foe, curled up in front of me and squealing. Its back legs kicked and scrabbled at the dirt, and it wheezed and made a sharp keening sound. One eye was closed and swollen, bleeding. The other was wide open and staring at me as the creature on the ground took a long shuddering breath. I could see on its face the fight had gone out of it. It was just quivering there, hoping for the violence to stop.

Molls said my name, quietly, from the other side of the Hobbs. “Tyson,” she almost whispered, and I turned to look at her instead of the Mordren. A clawed and bleeding section of her tail was held in her hands, and her scales were tinted a deep yellow again. “It’s over, Tyson. Please stop.”

My eyes returned to the Mordren, and I shook my head. “Yeah.” I pointed at Rayna and she approached. “Patch up Molls, she’s hurt.”

Rayna nodded at me, blinking. “Yeah boss.” She turned and pointed with her new plasma rifle at the Mordren. “What you want done with him?”

“Him?” I looked where she was pointing and quickly looked away. The Mordren was in some kind of pain shock and was panting rhythmically while staring at me with a giant, fear-bulged eye.

“Worth a lot either way boss. Ransom better, but corpse good morties too.” Rayna tipped her chin at me. “Your call.”

My head hung and I was glad no one could see my face at that moment. “Ransom? Are you telling me that’s a person?”

Rayna nodded at me, her eyes narrowed. “Yeah boss. Mordren. Thinking person, like rest of us. Just more lethal.”

“Help . . . help him. Please. I . . . I didn’t know.” I turned to the Mordren on the ground and shook my head. “I’m sorry.”

He panted on the ground in response, eyeball bulging at me from behind his shattered snout.

I shook my head and went to go check on Phyllis. That sound she made scared me. Nothing else seemed to be coming in on our heads, and it struck me as a good time to see who was hurt.

Thankfully, Phyllis didn’t end up needing my help. When I arrived, I saw that her helmet was open and she was calmly watching TV again, the mech in a lounging position. As I approached, she turned to face me, and I recoiled in horror. Part of her skull was covered in new metal plating. It pulsed with soft blue light from beneath the metal.

She waved at me, the mech’s arm casually flopping back and forth. “Hello dearie. We win yet?”

Her pupils were the size of dinner plates, and one of her eyes wouldn’t focus correctly on me. It swam a little, trying to track where I was, while the other stared directly at me.

Quickly, she gave up and went back to her TV. A serene smile spread across her face. Whatever my starfish suit gave me for pain, I think her suit had something better.

“Yeah, Phil.”

I hesitated and looked in the mech a little closer, risking another glance under her nightgown. I needn’t have worried, the mech was covering her entire torso and back with sheets of metal. The same soft blue light pulsed from those as well. “We won alright. How are you doing?”

She blew a tiny raspberry. “Pft. Fine. Just not allowed to move for the next twelve hours.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded. “Mmhmm. Mmhmm. Can I ask why you’re not allowed to move for the next twelve hours?”

Phyllis sighed and looked at another screen in her mech, using her arm to swipe it up in front of her. “Fractures to skull, spine, ribs, hips, and my left collarbone. You want all the technical names of each bone, Mr. Fussy?”

I backed up and shook my head, hands raised in surrender. “No thanks Phyllis, I’m just glad you’re okay. Can I get you anything? Some trail mix, perhaps?”

She turned her head toward me and scowled. “Yes Tyson, some trail mix would be lovely.”

Then she lifted a bag of it from her mech’s cockpit and waved it at me.

“Good thing I’m a big girl and know which way to put on my panties, huh?” Something on her TV caught her interest and she waved it back up. She had gotten really good with that TV system. Shocker.

My helmet bobbed as I nodded again. “Yes Phil, it sure is. You let me know if I can do anything for you while you heal up, and hey Phil?”

Her face looked at me again, ringed with metal and lights. My best friend.

“Thank you for protecting Molls.” I smiled through the helmet at her, and she snorted again and looked back to the TV. I turned to walk away, heading inside to check on Mr. Sada, Doofus, and Hord. “I’d be lost without you, Phil!”

She chuckled and nodded, never looking away from her TV. “Damn straight.”