I woke to a bleak room shrouded in darkness. I was tattered, battered and cranky. Anyone would after fighting a Reaver to a standstill, barely escaping. Still, though, I’d count my stars if I could. The room was that dark, but no signs of stars above me.

My eyes were wide open, stressing as I tried piercing through the void of nothingness that sat before me, it was as if I'd been swallowed whole.

Not that it was funky in scent, but it was heavy in atmosphere.

The pressure of being watched.

I stuck my tongue out trying to gauge where I was. You see, The Gallows had a unique taste of grime and dust, it was bitter, but salted. Bridge City air tasted like salted gravel, and by the way, my tongue sizzled once it tasted the air, I knew that I was still in Bridge City.

Good.

I tried moving my Cybernetic arm, but the warning alert popped up into my cybernetic eye. Two Power Cells Removed. I needed three power cells to stimulate my SMB enough to move my cybernetic arm.

One power cell allowed me just enough to access Nova and stimulate information into the SMB for usage. Two allowed for my cybernetic arm to have low capacity function only for mundane tasks such as moving chairs and tables, nothing strenuous.

Three? That’s where the good stuff was. Nova ran at full capacity without lag, and my arm moved as if it were a real one. Beautiful stuff, also quite jarring at times when that bout of melancholy hit whenever phantom pain struck

Luckily, this was not one of those times. But yet, I still felt it, roaring at the back of my mind. This loneliness I felt.

Let’s see if everything is alright. I moved my lower body, feeling my legs chained to something, was I in a chair? I tried moving it with my body and felt something clinging to my left side and right shoulder. Anesthetic Patch? Why?

I rolled each shoulder as best as I could, feeling my right shoulder singing a song of never-ending pain. No Painkillers. I rolled my head, as far back as I could and hit across a wall, solidly.

My SMB kicked into overdrive, trying its best to ‘soothe’ my headache, but all it did was make it worse as it pulsed immensely. Calm yourself, Cypher…don’t let your SMB have its way.

The urge to question Nova was there, but I knew I couldn’t ask. It was rare for someone to have an artificial assistant. Hell, no one knew I had one. Only Jix. Damn! Should’ve taken up that job offer. I laughed grimly. The Waste probably wasn’t this bad.

A blinding light pulsed into my natural eye, I felt the strain in my retina blood vessels course with pain from the strain that was intended to blank my cornea.

I closed my eyes in time and felt as water pooled, soothing the pain away. I still felt the heat from the light trying to pierce my eyelids, and thankfully it didn’t.

I guess we’re about to start. Good.

I hollowed my mind and allowed my ears to listen to my surroundings for the faintest of things. I felt and heard my heartbeat, thump in my chest. It wasn’t pounding like a drum, but it was vigorous. I confirmed to myself that I wasn’t scared, but I was worried.

That was always the first step.

In the distance, I heard a gentle hum. It sounded... robust... smooth, a generator? The hum had a melody, like a flute from a ruk-a-tuk band, gentle, yet firm. There was a subtle click in between, but it sounded behind the engine... no, in front of the hum. Leaking pipes? Underground possibly.

I tasted the salt from the filtered air and scraped my tongue against my teeth, cleansing the aftertaste from it. There was a fallacy when it came to air filters, most people believed the filters were perfect, but they were closer to 92% efficient. They did their job well enough for no one to complain, that is if filters weren’t changed regularly. The salt... ocean? Or am I at Bridge City’s main port?

“You killed one of my Reaver’s Kaiden Cypher,” a surly female voice whispered into my right ear. I jumped back, startled, only to feel a pounding sensation erupting from my chest as someone sucker punched me.

“Easy now... we have lots to talk about,” the female voice continued.

“There isn’t much to say at this point...” I coughed through with a heave.

“Do you need Lemon water? Your chest sounds a bit cracked,” the voice said onto my left.

“No fault of my own, of course. But no thanks. I’m good on the water. Freedom though, I’d love that.”

“…And how do you expect to get that, Cypher? Beg? Crawl your way out of it?”

“I’m asking”

“To die?”

“Of course not.”

“Hold up... you’re asking for freedom?” the female asked, chuckling lightly, making me feel small.

“Look,” I snarled, feeling my rage reach its limit. “You’ve made your point. I’m tied up. You’ve got me dead to rights with the video the Reaver showed before I put her blade back in her eye! It’s either you kill me now or bring Mangol to discuss whatever they have planned for me.”

The sound of droplets filled the room as if rain were falling inside. My jaw snapped left from a punch and my stomach seeped in as someone stomped me whilst I sat in the chair.

I didn’t respond to the abuse, It wouldn’t make sense.

“Shall we start anew?” the voice asked, above me as If floating in the air.

“Please.”

“Good. Now, Mr Cypher, I’ve met hundreds of men and women who are foolish enough to fire a gun within Underwent Market,” the voice said coldly. “…and never had. You, though, were foolish enough to wield...what was it?” She said, followed by a pause.

“A Talxie?”

“Telari-X,” I corrected.

“Doesn’t matter, Cypher. You fired a gun in Underwent, do you know what that means? People will start thinking it’s ok to bring guns in my market. People will start disrespecting me!”

“You’re The Mangol?”

“Who else would I be, if I weren’t The Mangol?” Mangol said, tone cold.

Don’t respond Cypher, just listen. I advised myself. I let The Mangol’s word’s lingered and hunted for the right words to find to deescalate the situation, but none came.

I flashed a wry smile and felt my jaw snap left from what felt like a cricket bat. “Did you hear a Joke, Cypher? Or Do you think I’m a joke?” She said, voice coming from behind me.

The metallic taste of blood swam in my mouth for a few seconds, then I spat it out, relieving my mouth of its acidity. I rolled my neck, giving the impression that I wasn’t fazed and adjusted myself in the chair as best as I could.

“No, Mangol, I don’t think you’re a joke.”

“Then tell me, why in the Imbibe would you fire a pistol in my market?”

“It was either the window or my life.”

“Your life?” The Mangol said, “It’s mine now, Cypher, don’t you see that?”

The sudden shift in direction from which her voice came, confused me. So I hunted the room for the sounds of steps, but only heard the rhythmic sound of the generator associated with that consistent ticking noise.

I tongued my mouth, searching for any loose teeth, and luckily everything was intact, except for my gum. “My life hasn’t been my own for years, Mangol.”

“I see that... I’ve read your file. Kaiden Cypher, Designated N9 for the Antillean Federation Army. Two tours in The Carib Waste conducting Wall Security, and Security for Land Expansion. Noble. I salute men of your calibre. You keep us safe from the savages of the Waste.”

“They aren’t all savages,” I countered.

“They all are to me,” the sound of her voice whispering from below my chin.

Where the hell is she? “Suit yourself.”

“One thing that surprised me, Cypher, this Seventeen-year void, in your record.”

“Unemployment.”

“I’m sure it is,” she answered, trailing into a laugh.

My stomach sank to my back from a blow by a blunt instrument. I don’t know what it was, but it held an obtuse shape when it seeped into my stomach. It released all the wind I had inside, making me gasp for air.

“Put the sword down, Veka,” the Mangol said.

“He killed Tela!” another female voice said, to my right., She sounded as if she were there.

“Tela?” I asked.

“Veka, he didn’t kill Tela. You did. Had you done proper research on the target, you wouldn't have sent her. You would’ve gone yourself. Now leave this chamber. I’m still having a discussion, depending on how fruitful it is, you will get your chance to kill him…or feel my wrath for leading Tela to unnecessary death.”

Tela wasn’t the only person I killed yesterday. I could’ve laughed, but I was pretty sure that Veka was another Reaver and there was no way I was surviving her, shackled up like this.

A sound of rough shuffling danced in front of me. This is frustration. I wanted to know where I was, see where I was. Blind, but not Blind. Ugh.

“I’m not one for stories, Cypher, but I have an eye for talent. I watched you skillfully sift through Underwent like a predator, fight when needed, run when needed…fire a gun when needed. You killed one of my Reavers. Do you know, they cost four million creds to train, and you downed her in 15 mins. That’s admirable, worthy of praise, even from me. Now tell me, why in the Imbibe someone like you is doing EXiCON work?”

“I thought you weren’t one for stories.”

“Enlighten me, Cypher, or would you prefer Veka return?” The Mangol said coldly.

“Fine.”

I told The Mangol about the bullshit storm I caught myself in, solving two cases I’d yet to be paid for. I told her how Akatani’s little minions were running this vending machine scam and I caught two of them, which halted the scam.

I don't know how the bastard got wind of my name, but I surmised it was Eclain, based on what Zade told me. I sprinkled in the info Zade told me about two other EXiCON’s dying by Akatani’s hand as well, trying to make my case for having a weapon brought here solid.

The Mangol didn’t speak. She listened. I didn’t know if that was bad or good, but I went for the latter because that’s what I needed right now. Good Karma.

I explained that Underwent was chosen as a delivery point because of its thick crowds and that the pistol was meant to be used if a showdown happened. Not in Underwent of course, but later.

I didn’t tell her about the battle in Old City, she didn’t care. It may not have been much, but I hoped that was enough.

“I don’t care why you did it, Cypher. You fired a gun in Underwent. And for that, you must be made an example of.”

Shit

“This is the problem I have. I watched you manoeuvre through seven floors, against twenty men. On top of that, you killed one of my Reaver’s. I don’t know if you’re worth the trouble, but you’re talented. Yes.”

Got her. Let’s see if I can obtain some information.

“Give me a Mark and I’ll take it out” I offered.

The Mangol gave a shrewd chuckle that was devoid of any hint of emotion. It was like nails scraping against metal, grinding and making my skin crawl all at once.

“A mark?” the Mangol asked, tone incredulous.

“Yes.”

“Cypher Why would I even consider having you take out my enemies, if I had any, that is.”

“You’re The Mangol, one of the most powerful figures within Bridge City. No... The Federation. You have enemies just like I have my own.”

“Like Akatani?”

“He is, for now,” I said, firmly.

“Is that a warning?”

“Look at me, I’m in chains. I never warn you,” I said lying through my teeth.”

“I won’t lie, Cypher, I’m intrigued by your offer, but why would I bother with you? I have a Reaver at my disposal.”

“You’re one Reaver down and you barely caught me.”

“Barely?” she scoffed as if insulted.

“Yes... barely, if you didn’t have her shadowed, I would’ve been in the wind,” I countered.

“For a few days, maybe.”

“You think after surviving your Reaver I would’ve allowed myself to get captured? Let me assure you, Mangol. Those seventeen years that are missing from my record, aren’t there for a reason. I wasn’t cooped up in some abandoned shack in The Waste.”

“I can put you in one, if need be,” The Mangol said, cold tone.

“I'm sure you can, then what? Waste a talent such as mine? Your Words. Not mine. Put me to work, you won’t regret it.”

“A message has to be sent, Cypher, you know this.”

“I have a solution for that as well.”

“A solution? The Hannya Boys broke no rules, so they are off-limits. If I go after them, it would stain my reputation, attacking someone, that followed the rules? When you’re in this business…appearance matters and I’m sure a man such as yourself knows this.”

“I do and you’re right. The Hannya Boys are mine. Be assured....but no. My suggestion is more surgical, taboo to be precise.”

“I see, and what this suggestion would be Cypher.”

“Artificial Death.

“WHAT?” The Mangol hissed, voice laced in disgust. “You want me to create a CLONE?”

I see…so only certain people know of this Artificial Death I noted to myself.

I tried to say something, but The Mangol didn’t allow me a second to reply. She was angry, wroth and possibly disgusted. I heard it in her voice.

I also felt in my body, as a surge of electricity shot right through me, making me shake from the pain. It was as if I were being cooked alive.

The thoughts of the electricity funnelling into my cybernetic arm, to charge it were noble at best. I would’ve then been able to break free if I had the will to do so, but with the way my teeth chattered and my body unresponsive.

I knew all that waited for me after this electrical charge was my death.