Page 269 of Fatality

The room suddenly feels colder.

Heavier.

“That still doesn't tell me who the fuck you are.” I yawn.

“Enforcers Academy. The teenager you sent to the hospital and left in an induced coma for two years, floating in those fucking fluids.”

I tilt my head, confused.

I remember the Enforcers Academy where Neo and I got expelled, but I beat up so many people there that I honestly don't remember him.

Before I can even say anything, he raises a single finger, my eyes track the movement since I’m prepared to do anything—thanks to my ocular augmentation.

Without another word, one of the robots charges, raising its bionic gun at Neo.

Neo reacts without hesitation.

He spins, drops low, and fires.

The electric round pierces straight through the robot's head, and a thin trail of smoke curls from the hole.

Within seconds, the remaining robots convulse and collapse to the floor.

Varek explodes into motion, one moment he's standing beside me, the next, he's crushing the heads of two robots beneath his palms.

The basement erupts with the sound of gunfire from the robots and Neo, mixed with Varek's unfiltered violence.

“You'll send me the GC, I'll keep the device, and I'll kill you and your little friends right here,” he snaps. “Because you fucking ruined my life! I was supposed to be an Enforcer and missed the exams just because I took the last fucking Nitro soda! So I became this just to be able to fucking erase you!”

He laughs, and the green neon fluid surging through his body flares brighter, its flow accelerating.

I slide my right foot back, settling into my stance, and wait to see what he'll do.

I don't spare Neo or Varek a glance. They're competent and efficient.

Oh.

Now I remember him.

I beat the shit out of him because he took the last Nitro can when I was already on edge.

I actually asked if he'd give it to me, he said no, said he needed it to stay awake.

I simply exploded.

Back then, I was even more reckless, beating people up for damn near nothing.

Didn't give a fuck then—still don't.

But leading my gang and throwing myself into racing gave me somewhere to aim those urges.

The silence stopped. Racing, engines, my gang... they filled my head—it became easier to breathe.

The man-robot takes a step forward, the asphalt under his foot cracks.

I crack my neck and knuckles.

But I can't be late for tonight, I need that device for her.