The first thing to pierce the darkness was a sound.

It was shrill and undulating and there was a pattern to it, but to focus on it brought pain. Better to withdraw and let the darkness wash away all awareness.

But the sound returned. It forced itself into existence, bringing a sense of urgent need. Even to acknowledge its existence, to sense that need brought agony, so he escaped once more into painless oblivion. Yet again and again, the sound came back, bringing with it a pinprick of awareness and a stab of terrible pain.

With great reluctance, he eventually went closer to it, lifting the blanket of darkness to let in just the tiniest sliver of light. But then the awareness and agony came washing over him, pushing through like a torrent and when he tried to flinch back, to pull the blanket back down, it was already too late.

As the pain rushed through him and his nerves lit up like a blanket of firecrackers, awareness of his body returned. Bit by bit, the patterns in the sound became intelligible.

"..ve..o..firm.."

But he couldn't focus on it, wanted only to crawl away and hide from the cascade of agony that bounced inside of his skull. Anything to get away from the pain.

"control-"

A flicker of realization. He knew that voice. But to form thoughts, to think of anything at all was to have a red-hot spike driven through his brain. Why couldn't he just return to the darkness? What did he have to do?

There was another sound, low and guttural, but he couldn't make sense of it. The pain was all-encompassing, filling his mind completely like a bright, blinding light that let him see nothing else. After a while, when he could form thoughts again, he realized that the agony came in tides.

"You have to confirm-"

Pokka?

Another wave of pain rolled over him, but he was starting to get more familiar with it, able to think of it as a physical thing, set in his body. During a swell, it spread everywhere, but his arm and his head were the centers. The low, guttural sound returned and he tried to focus on it, to make sense of it. It was only when the pain ebbed again that he realized it was a rattling groan coming from his own throat.

"If you want to see your family again, you must-"

What? What was Pokka saying?

The pain peaked again but as his awareness gradually reformed, a goal came along with it. Not just a goal, but a need, a burning desire. To find his family, before it was too late. He was still alive. He could still think. He just had to focus through the agony and-

"...have to give me access. Confirm the request if you want to live-"

Another groan, louder this time, as that burning spike returned. But he couldn't give up. He strained his senses, pushed at his mind to comprehend, until he finally grasped the notification without seeing it.

Grant mentor complete access to Value Wallet, System Store and Mobile MAFT? Y / N

"Y… Yes," he hissed as he gave the mental command, then promptly passed out again.

The next thing he became aware of was light. A faint red glow that came and went as he faded back into unconsciousness, until it lingered, dispersing the edges of the darkness. There was still pain, but it was muted now, so once again he carefully spread his awareness.

Soft pressure against his back, small things tickling at his skin. A strange sense of weight, on his other arm. Then, as he wanted to open his eyes and take a look around, his world exploded with light and sound.

Iridescent flashes of light filled his vision, all the colours of the rainbow and more. Some darker tones of red and brown settled into vague shapes while bright blue and yellow streaks shot through from all sides. At the same time, there was a cacophony of sound, a loud buzzing in the background with so many different small noises stacked on top of each other it was impossible to make any sense of it.

He tried to squeeze his eyes shut to stop the overwhelming ocean of sensations, but it changed nothing. When he tried to bring his hands to his ears, there was a stab of pain from his left arm. It felt different, almost too heavy to move somehow.

The jarring orchestra of sensations continued and he desperately tried to shut it off, to retreat to the darkness, but there was nothing he could do. His thoughts were barely coherent and he felt lost, flailing blindly in a sea of light and sound. He had no sense for how long this went on, until an idea came to him.

With an effort of concentration, he sent the mental command to toggle off [Direct Manipulation - Waves] and [Direct Manipulation - Light]. It was like flipping off a lightswitch, suddenly dark and silent, until he dared to open his eyes again. Something was wrong, but he wasn't sure what.

Blinking against the daylight, shapes finally coalesced in Barry's vision. He was lying in a forest, surrounded by bushes, but the image was vague and the colors were smudged, as if a child had drawn this picture and colored well beyond the lines.

Something was wrong. But what was it? When he blinked, it felt… off.

Pokka suddenly appeared in his vision, his image much sharper than the trees and leaves.

"Po-" he tried to speak, but it quickly turned into a cough as his throat was raw and parched.

"You are probably wondering what happened," the old man said with a smile in his usual matter-of-fact way of speaking.

Barry was still coughing, pain shooting through his left arm and head with each convulsion.

"You may recall that you got yourself in quite the pickle. In an ill-advised attempt at playing the hero, you saved a woman from an explosive. But you did not quite manage to throw it away before it went off."

The memories were coming back now - the camp, the soldiers, his reckless killing spree.

"It would have killed you, if not for the life-saving single use Ability you still possessed: [Ultimate Dodge]. It triggered as soon as it detected what would have been a mortal blow, which in this case was a piece of shrapnel about to enter your brainstem. You were teleported into these bushes here, but you'd already taken significant damage from the explosion before the Ability intervened to save your life."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Damage? Was he wounded? He lifted his head, trying to sit up, which was harder than normal, as if his head were too heavy. As he looked over his body, he immediately picked out what was wrong. His left arm looked ivory white right below the elbow.

"What the-" He broke out into another coughing fit.

"With the loss of half of your left arm and a part of your head, you were about to bleed out. Luckily you still managed to give me access, allowing me to purchase things in your name. I'm glad to inform you that your inferior flesh has been replaced by something far better, the latest in INUU prosthetics technology-"

Barry stopped listening and lifted his left arm. Right past the elbow, the skin transitioned seamlessly into a matt white material. Though there were no grooves or joints to be seen, he found that he could move his hand and fingers as before, though it felt different, as if he were moving someone else's hand. The material felt cold and hard to the touch. The fingers were thinner than his own and ended in sharp nails.

"...you were not in a position to provide input on the esthetics, so I went for a color that would go well with your Ferrux Blades, which I believe makes you look more fierce than if it had been the color of your skin…"

He sat up as more of Pokka's words were sinking in. What had the AI said about his head? When he felt the same cold hard material on the left side of his face, he let out a panicked grunt.

"My face…" he breathed, his voice sounding rough and husky.

"What's that? Yes, the left side of your head was severely damaged, including the eye and ear. But not to worry, it has all been replaced, and your new sensors will provide considerably more data with a better link to your PE Node, allowing you to…"

A wave of panic broke through the numbness and he struggled up to his feet, feeling dizzy. He looked around for a mirror, which was not available in the middle of a forest, then opened the System Store to go looking for one. After a bit of futile searching, he thought of a better solution and activated [Project Image].

He flinched back with a gasp as his own lifelike image appeared right in front of him. With wide eyes and shaky steps, Barry slowly stumbled around to look at himself. About a quarter of his head, down to his cheekbone before his nose, stretching back to behind his ear and halfway down his skull, had been replaced by the white material. Most of his hair on the left side was gone. His eye had been replaced by a black orb and his ear by a white antenna.

With a wave of his hand he dispersed the image, then sat down again, feeling sick to his stomach. What had he done to himself? He should have been more careful, he should have…

Another wave of dizziness had him lying back down.

"You've lost a lot of blood, I would recommend you consume nutrients and hook up your Fixer Upper."

Barry numbly followed Pokka's suggestions and soon fell asleep.

He awoke to the sound of scratching. There was a mutated squirrel biting and digging at his right arm, but managing to leave only red welts on his tough skin. He instinctively grabbed it with his left hand, the slender fingers crushing every bone in the squirrel's body without him intending to.

Oh, right. I've been turned into a fucking cyborg.

He was feeling a lot better physically, but now that he could think more clearly, his thoughts and emotions all gravitated to one glaring problem, like a black hole that drew in all of his attention and left him feeling gutted.

How can I meet my family like this?

It felt silly now, to have worried about the cracks in his sweet fantasy of a joyful reunion with his loved ones. That hopeful image which he'd been holding onto for so long, was now shattered beyond repair. The only way he could now imagine that reunion going was with shocked gasps and horrified faces betraying their revulsion. He was now closer to a monster than to the old Barry they had known and loved.

He marched slowly in the direction of the next MAFT, feeling lost. Before he knew it, night had fallen, but he kept on walking until he felt completely exhausted. He slept on the ground like an animal, woke up from the morning light and set out walking again with a vacant gaze and his head hanging low.

On the second day, he began experimenting with his Direct Manipulation Abilities, which again brought an overwhelming array of sensory inputs when he toggled them on. Where previously he had to focus to feel the shapes of sounds and get into a meditative mindset to manipulate light, now he had to concentrate on filtering them out instead.

The sounds were easiest to get used to, perhaps thanks to his experience with using clicks for echolocation. As his brain adapted and he got things more under control, he found that casting a wave was now as easy as flicking his finger. He could activate his sphere and drag it along with barely a thought.

There was a faint awareness that he was avoiding his problems, but since he had no idea what he would do after he arrived, he just kept up a slow walk instead of a run, keeping his mind occupied with adapting to his newfound senses.

It was only on the fourth day of walking that he was able to work his [Direct Manipulation - Light] again, but when he did, the results were impressive.

To get to a point where he could keep [Camouflage] active while walking had taken him weeks of work, but it was so easy now that it was hard to see how it had ever been difficult. He could even see more colors than before, different wavelengths, he thought, which were invisible to mere human eyes.

Another way in which I'm not human anymore.

Any beasts that came close were easily killed with a single swipe of his blade, until he got bored of that and began experimenting with his Abilities. His artificial hand somehow interfaced with his new senses and the PE Node, giving him a feel of light and sound that he never had before, which helped him manipulate the elusive energies.

With an advanced version of his looking glass manipulation, he could now turn sunlight into an effective weapon, easily tracing even moving targets.

The soundwaves were effective too, not just in disorienting beasts, but dealing actual damage. They would, however, dissipate quickly and required quite a lot of PE. That would need more work.

If these prosthetics were so effective in working together with the PE Node, he wondered why more people wouldn't make use of them. Some people might be very willing to look like a monstrous cyborg in exchange for fantasy-like powers.

Then, when he took an idle look at his Value Wallet, he came to a sudden stop.

"Pokka? What the fuck!?"

Unallocated Value: 0

Value allocated to Stats: 4270

Value allocated to Abilities: 1980

Value spent on items: 22360

Value balance: -14860

The AI had been gone when he woke up, but now popped back into existence.

"Do you have any questions about your powerful new prosthetics?" He asked with an innocent smile.

"How the hell is my balance at negative fourteen-thousand?"

"Isn't that obvious? You didn't have enough to afford those items and would have died without them, so I used my special mentor powers to provide a loan."

"A loan? What's the interest rate?"

"There is no interest rate. You must simply bring your balance back to positive within twenty days or else the items will be reclaimed. To be clear, that is twenty days from the day of the loan, so fifteen days from today."

Barry let out a deep sigh.

"I assume if they reclaim these things, it will kill me?"

"Your Durability would have to be significantly higher to be able to survive with your brain exposed to the elements, yes."

"Great. Thanks Pokka," Barry said tiredly.

As he continued walking, he found that this news didn't affect him much. With his newfound Abilities, it wasn't impossible for him to farm that amount of Value, it would just take time. The problem of his mutilated face, on the other hand, was harder to solve.

He kept up his routine for a few more days, traversing green and yellow zones, until he found himself stopping at the edge of a forest. In the distance, on the border between a grassy field and a desert, was a sprawling settlement. Around its black walls stretched an extensive campsite. There had to be thousands of people here. It looked like a beehive, with people milling about, moving in a hurry. He thought he could even see caravans of people leaving the settlement, for whatever reason.

Somewhere inside of him, there was a flicker of hope, like the smallest candlelight, but he didn't know what to do with it.

His family might be out there, but there was no way he could show himself like this.

Would it be better to stay in hiding, or to expose them to his disturbing new form?

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