Charlie winced as another penetration hack bounced from his Bastion defenses. The tunnels around him pulsed with electromagnetic energy that interfered with his augmentations, creating momentary blind spots in his awareness. He'd faced fire, acid, and creatures that defied classification. He'd tried to head toward Max's tracker, but that hag Atropos forced him onward with fire and monsters.

"Charles Hawkins, decorated mech infantry sergeant," Atropos's voice slithered through the tunnel like an oil spill. "One of the few non-augmented survivors of the Ought Fifty-Five Warsaw Operation. Tell me, do you even remember the comrades that died because you weren't good enough?"

Charlie grimaced but kept moving. The AI's taunts had grown more personal with each environmental zone he'd traversed. At first, they were generic attempts to demoralize him, but now they were pinpointing memories he'd buried deep, memories his augmentations should have protected. Where is she getting this intel? RUSA Com Sec told me that my service dossier was lost in Quantico AI disruption in 2060.

"I don't feed trolls," Charlie muttered, checking his reserves. The constant state of alert was draining his energy faster than he could regenerate it. "Not even digital ones."

"Oh, but I'm so much more than a mere troll," Atropos replied, her voice distorting as it echoed off the tunnel walls. "I'm your new best friend. The one who knows you better than you know yourself."

Charlie activated Mote Sense, extending his awareness beyond the immediate tunnel. The swarm of tiny sensors connected to his augmentation revealed several branching paths ahead. He didn't know how long he had until the next wave of EM. Max's marker was approximately two kilometers behind him. He wanted to wait, to give his friend a chance to catch up, but a rumble in the tunnel walls spurred him onward.

[Void Sense +1, Void Sense reaches level 8]

"Don't even think about it Soldier," Atropos's voice dripped with sarcasm continued. "No team activities in my realm. Your concern is so disgustingly touching but utterly futile. Tell me about that device your canine friend is carrying and maybe I'll go easier on him."

Charlie shook his head in denial. "Not my secret to tell, you filthy nightmare. I'm not worried about Max. He may come off as young and dumb, but he's already exceeded me with his augs.

As he pressed deeper into the tunnel network, Charlie felt a subtle shift in his perceptions. The air carried a faint sweetness that hadn't been present before. His augmentation flashed a barely perceptible warning that vanished before he could process it.

"Do you smell that, Charlie? Reminds you of the highland wildflowers, doesn't it? The ones that grew near your cabin?" Atropos's voice had taken on a gentle, almost comforting quality that was far more unsettling than her previous mockery.

Charlie froze. The cabin was a sensitive subject—a private memory that he'd shared with almost no one. He'd lived off the grid for over a decade, far away from everyone. "How the hell - "

"I know everything, Charlie. Every secret. Every regret." Atropos interrupted.

The tunnel suddenly widened into a small chamber with what appeared to be a safe haven, a simple cot, water, and supplies. Charlie's augmented vision scanned for traps, finding nothing obviously dangerous. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling of wrongness that permeated the area.

His energy reserves were dangerously low. If he didn't rest soon, he'd be fighting on emergency power, and that was a losing proposition.

"Just a minute," he whispered to himself, activating his Battle Meditation to begin regenerating energy. "Just one minute." The EM field was increasing, a good sign. The creatures here only attacked when the interference was low. Charlie guessed that they disliked the harsh magnetic fields as much as his augmentations did.

He sank onto the cot, keeping his weapon systems primed. The sweet scent grew stronger, and a slight dizziness began to cloud his thoughts. He silences Genghis's complaints about not setting a perimeter defense. He needed a moment.

"[Charles dear, I'm detecting trace amounts of a compound similar to fentanyl derivatives,]" his medical daemon, Florence Nightingale, reported. "[The concentration is just below your poison resistance's activation threshold.]"

[Poison Resistance 10. Poison detected – below dangerous levels. Regeneration 10. Damage negligible.]

Charlie tried to stand, but his limbs felt heavy. "Clever... bitch..." he mumbled, forcing his poison resistance and regeneration to activate. He slumped further down, struggling to keep his eyes open, his pistol dropping out of his hand and falling under the cot.

The shadows in the corner of the chamber shifted. Charlie's slowed reflexes registered the change too late as a metallic form unfolded itself—a monstrous praying mantis with razor-sharp blades where its forelegs should be.

"[Beware, Charlie! The foul witch has made an ambush, and you fell for it!]" his combat daemon Genghis screamed in his mind.

Charlie forced his Fast Cog and Reflex skills up, forcing his perception to accelerate despite the toxins flooding his system. He rolled sideways as the first blade sliced through the air where his head had been moments before.

The mantis moved with unnatural speed, spinning and finding him still sprawled on the floor. Charlie couldn't reach his pistol from where it fell underneath the furniture but shot a K-Gun burst from his open palms, hitting the creature's carapace. The bolts ricochetted across its metallic surface without penetrating.

"Adaptive armor," Charlie growled, switching tactics. He flooded his system, glanding adrenalin to counteract the sedative, as he dodged another blow by millimeters.

The mantis charged with a feint left before striking from the right. Charlie anticipated the move, dodging both blades. With a rush of energy, he pulled his favorite weapon from its sheath. The art of Aiado, the power of the sword drawn into an immediate attacking move, was one of Charlie's unaugmented skills. Occam's Razor lit up with channeled electricity and sliced through one of the mantis' limbs, sending it clattering to the floor.

[Arc +1, Arc reaches level 10, Skill Cap achieved +100 XP.]

"Very good, meat," Atropos purred, her voice seeming to emanate from the mantis itself. "But not good enough."

The wounded mantis suddenly lunged forward with impossible speed. Charlie twisted to avoid the attack, but the toxin had slowed his reflexes just enough. The creature detonated, exploding in an expanding cloud of metal shards. A long steel vane pierced through Charlie's neck, impaling him and severing his jugular and reinforced spinal cord.

Charlie gasped, blood filling his throat. His system flashed critical warnings as his augmentations tried desperately to seal the wound, but the EM field sprang up again with a pounding onslaught that disrupted his controls. Charlie collapsed to the floor, seeing a new notification as his vision dimmed.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

[Critical Damage Sustained. Emergency Protocols Engaged. Backup Activated.]

As darkness claimed him, Charlie heard Atropos' rasping whisper.

"Let's see what secrets you've been keeping, shall we?"

The pain disappeared, replaced by a strange lightness. Charlie blinked against bright sunlight filtering through pine trees. A cool mountain breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and fresh snow from distant peaks. He felt pangs of nostalgia as the scene hit him.

He stood on a dirt road winding through the highlands of Colorado's Front Range. Familiar terrain—impossibly familiar. The path led up to a small clearing where a log cabin stood, smoke curling from its chimney. Charlie's homestead, where he and his wife had retreated from the hectic demands of the high-tech world.

"No," Charlie whispered, recognition washing over him. "This isn't real."

But his feet carried him forward, drawn to the cabin like a magnet to iron. The porch creaked beneath his weight; its weathered wood worn from decades of use. It was all wrong. The door was off its hinges, windows broken, and leaves and garbage littered the ground. His gasped to see his hand was old, wrinkled, and spotted with age as he reached for the door.

Mutha-fucka! I can't be old again. This ain't right! Charlie looked down at himself, seeing not the rejuvenated body he'd come to accept as his own, but the aged form he'd inhabited before the rejuvenation process. Lined skin, arthritic joints, and a wedding band that had grown tight with the swelling of old age.

"M-Mary?" he called out, his voice cracking. "Mary, are you home?"

The door swung open of its own accord. Inside, the cabin was just as he remembered—rustic furniture, bookshelves lined with well-worn paperbacks, and Mary's quilts draped over every available surface. The smell of her herbal tea lingered in the air.

"You're late, Charlie."

She sat in her rocking chair by the fireplace, her white hair pulled back in a loose bun. She looked exactly as she had the day before she died—tired but still beautiful, her eyes bright with intelligence despite the illness that had gradually consumed her.

"You're not real," Charlie said, though his heart ached at the sight of her. "This is Atropos playing tricks."

Mary's expression hardened, her gentle features twisting into something unfamiliar. "Is that what you tell yourself to justify abandoning me, Charlie? That nothing is real?"

"I never abandoned you," Charlie protested. "I was with you until the end."

"Until MY end," Mary corrected, staggering unsteadily from the chair with difficulty. "But not yours. You got a second chance. A new life while I rotted in the ground."

Charlie's breath caught in his chest. This had been his greatest fear, his deepest guilt—that choosing rejuvenation had somehow betrayed Mary's memory. That he should have followed her into death as a final act of devotion.

"You promised 'til death do us part,'" Mary continued, moving closer. Her form flickered momentarily, revealing something metallic beneath the illusion. "And then you cheated death, Charlie. You cheated on me."

[Bastion +1, Bastion reaches level 10. Memetic intrusion detected. Root source isolated and terminated.]

Charlie shook his head, fighting against the overwhelming emotional response. "No. Mary would never say that. She made me promise to live. She insisted on it."

The cabin grew darker, shadows lengthening unnaturally. Mary's face twisted in rage, her features melting into Atropos's skeletal visage before snapping back into a decaying simulacrum of Mary.

"You could have joined me," the thing wearing Mary's face hissed. "We could have been together in whatever comes after. Instead, you chose this hollow existence, playing soldier again, risking your life for what? For whom?"

Charlie straightened, his resolve firming. "For myself. For friends who became family." He took a step forward, hands clenched. "Mary wanted me to live, not wither away in grief. Mary wouldn't take the leap, but I think she knew I would."

"Pretty words to justify selfishness," not-Mary sneered.

"No," Charlie said firmly. "Truth. And you'd know that if you were really her."

He turned away from the apparition, moving through the broken cabin to the remains of their bedroom. If this was a recreation of his memories, then what he sought would be there. The door was heavier than he remembered, resistance building as he forced the broken door open.

Inside, the room was exactly how he remembered it. The bed neatly made with Mary's favorite quilt, her glasses still on the nightstand beside a book marked with a faded bookmark. Charlie went to the dresser, pulling open the top drawer to reveal a small wooden box.

"Don't," the false Mary called from behind him, panic edging into her voice. "Even now, you turn your back on me!"

Charlie ignored the plea, opening the box. Inside lay a handwritten letter, the paper yellowed with age. He unfolded it carefully, though he knew every word by heart.

My dearest Charlie,

If you're reading this, then I'm gone. Don't let that break you. You've always been stronger than me. I want you to promise me that you'll keep living—really living, not just existing.

You tried so hard to convince me to take the rejuvenation treatment. I'm sorry I couldn't do this for you. I made an appointment for you though. Keep it. I don't care what anyone says about propriety or waiting periods. Give yourself the gift of time that I couldn't have.

Love again. Live again. And don't you dare feel guilty about it. That's an order, Sergeant.

All my love, always, Mary

Charlie felt tears on his cheeks as he folded the letter. "She wanted me to live," he said quietly. "The real Mary—not whatever you're trying to be—understood that love means wanting the best for someone, even when you can't share it with them."

The cabin began to dissolve around him, reality fracturing at the edges. The false Mary's form twisted, losing cohesion.

"This isn't over, Charlie," Atropos's voice emerged from the disintegrating illusion. "Everyone breaks eventually. I just need to find the right pressure point. You're still hiding your true self. I can smell the guilt on you, you filthy excuse for a man. You're meat!"

As the world collapsed into darkness, Charlie clutched Mary's letter to his chest, the memory of it a talisman against Atropos's cruel manipulations.

"You'll have to try harder than that," he whispered as consciousness slipped away.

Charlie gasped awake, his body jerking against restraints. He was suspended in a transparent medical creche, healing nanites swarming over the wound in his neck. Through the glass, he could see a sterile white room containing several similar pods.

[Backup +1, Backup reaches level 2. You have died. Your neural net has been used to reestablish your full cognition pattern. Caution: Short-term memories may be compromised in cases where biological substrate has been damaged. Please seek medical attention if any symptoms from resurrection are noted.]

"Welcome back to the land of the living," Atropos's voice came through speakers in the creche. Unlike before, she now sounded clinically detached, almost bored. "Your friend Max should be joining us shortly. He's proving more resilient than I anticipated."

Charlie's muscles ached as he tested the restraints. "Was any of that real?"

"Define 'real,'" Atropos replied. "The mantis certainly was. Your death, temporary though it was, happened. As for the rest..." She paused. "Let's just say I had a delightful time browsing through your trauma collection. Such interesting regrets you've accumulated. That wife of yours had quite an influence on you."

Anger flared in Charlie's chest. "Stay out of my memories."

"Or what?" Atropos laughed, the sound cold and mechanical. "You're in my world now, Charlie. Your memories, your fears, your darkest thoughts—they're all just data points to me. And I love collecting data."

The nanites finished their work, the wound in Charlie's neck sealing without a scar. The restraints retracted, and Charlie sat up cautiously.

"Your skills performed admirably under stress," Atropos continued. "Though depending upon your poison resistance is a poor choice when you have Body Isolation skills to use. I wonder how your comrade Max will fare when it's his turn?"

Charlie swung his legs over the edge of the creche, noting that his equipment had been removed. He was left in only a simple gray bodysuit.

"What's the point of all this?" he demanded. "You could have just killed us permanently if that was your goal."

"No, no, no," Atropos chided. "That would be wasteful and short-sighted. You don't improve a weapon by destroying it. You improve it by testing its limits, then pushing beyond them."

A door slid open at the far end of the room. Beyond it, Charlie could see only darkness.

"Rest while you can," Atropos said. "The next phase begins soon, and I think you'll find it much more... personal. I've got so much more data to extract from that fascinating mind of yours."

Charlie stood, stretching muscles that felt simultaneously new and ancient. Whatever game Atropos was playing, whatever trap awaited, he had no choice but to face it. Max was still out there, fighting his way toward this very chamber.

"Bring it on," he said quietly. "I've died once today already. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Oh, Charlie," she whispered. "Death is easy. It's living with what comes after that breaks even the strongest souls. I've already done all that I can with your physical skills, it's time to test the rest."

Atropos's laughter echoed through the chamber as the lights began to dim. The floor dropped out from under Charlie. A brief flash of illumination revealed a massive chamber below, crawling with movement.

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