Considering the weight of things unsaid lingering between me and Amelia, and the fact that anxiety was thrumming through my veins even though I hadn't even reached the elevator yet, it shouldn't be surprising that I failed to keep my mouth shut.

Metaphorically, of course. My eyes were of a high enough quality that they more or less perfectly replicated my voice, going off of mental input alone. They could even simulate my mouth opening and closing on the projection they were making of my face.

"You know, the reason I ended up with these eyes in my skull is because of the problems I had with my organic eyes."

I kept my tone even and casual, just like Amelia had tried to do while talking about her mother.

"Hmm?"

"I wasn't born with bad eyes or anything. I ran into some trouble, though. Not sure if you know about it, but there was a major protest in the slums a while back. People found out a corp was fucking with their food, slipping experimental drugs into it and stuff. I wasn't even involved in the mess, but I got caught up in it when I was heading back home from work."

"I — I heard a little about it. I think it was on the news at one point?"

"Yeah, well, I don't know what they said, but I'm betting they weren't a hundred percent honest." I smiled bitterly. "When people tried to storm the checkpoints and get into the city proper, the guards decided to use some kind of gas. It caught me too, because I had a job in the outer city, even though I lived in the slums. I couldn't breathe right for months. By the time I got better, I realized my eyes were slowly going bad."

"Months?" Amelia asked shakily.

"Yep. It was rough. Anyway, I had actual, tiny scratches all over my eyes. I could see them in the mirror. And that probably wasn't even the worst of it, 'cause my eyesight just kept deteriorating. I tried glasses, but those are expensive for someone in the slums. I gave up after going through three pairs."

Neither of us said anything as I reached the elevator and pressed the button to summon it to my floor. I casually looked around for other people. Thankfully, I was there at an odd hour of the day, and this was a purely residential section of the megabuilding. Most people were at work already.

I didn't speak again until I finally entered the elevator, breathing a sigh of relief as I did so. It was empty. Avoiding people for a tiny bit longer: achieved!

"I kind of panicked when things got really bad. I could barely see properly a couple feet in front of me. Nausea, headaches, dizziness, the works. I was terrified that I was going to go fully blind and lose all ability to keep myself fed. Which, I mean, was happening. The rate of deterioration had slowed a little, but I couldn't tell if I had years or months before I just woke up one day and couldn't see a thing in front of me."

It helped that my eyes were letting me communicate without having to open my mouth. I might never have been brave enough to say all of that, both because of the security risks and because it was hard for me to talk about it. Sure, talking over a call was risky too, but I figured having my eyes in the mix meant we were safer than most.

Just remembering the panic, the burning certainty that I was headed straight towards my death with no way to stop it, still haunted me.

"I mean, I guess I could have done a few things to get ahead of it." I corrected the thoughts I'd been indulging with a sardonic smile. "Could have sold off my apartment and gotten a relatively decent pair of eyes that way. But that apartment was really the only thing of substance I had left from my mother. It… doesn't feel great to know I probably can't go back there because your father might expect it."

"You'll be able to go back eventually." Amelia stated it with such conviction that I smiled, sincerely this time.

"Yeah, we'll kick his shit in. Anyway…" I took a deep breath, preparing myself for a plunge. "Those are the reasons why, when an asshole by the name of Jason told me he was prepping a 'crew' to intercept a ganger mule and steal the cybernetics they were carrying for the gang, I said I was in. Funny story, actually. He only wanted me 'cause I had a gun. That kind of thing is rare in the slums, outside of the gangs."

My heart felt like it was legit stuttering in my chest from anxiety, and I had to acknowledge how much of a coward I was. If I were actually in her presence, I wouldn't dare make the admission, let alone discuss everything that followed.

"He was from the middle districts, and he fancied himself a badass whose parents would soon move into the inner districts, which made him inherently better than the rest of us or something. He regularly went out to 'party in the slums.' Even had himself a group of dedicated patsies who followed him around. It was one of them who got the info on the mule. His sister was in a relationship with a member of the gang involved. The Reapers."

The second the name registered, Amelia hissed in a sharp breath, but otherwise kept quiet.

"It was a fucking mess. Jason led us to the slaughter. Two kids with guns versus a gang member was already risky, but there were two people doing the delivery instead of just one. I was still desperate enough to go through with it, of course."

"What happened?"

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

The question was quiet and tender, rather than venomous or resentful. I took that as a good sign.

"Well, we started things off well enough, to my surprise. Gunned down a ganger immediately. Unfortunately, the other turned around and proved to be at least part borg. He absolutely butchered the kids who tried to rush him. Which was, well, everyone other than Jason and me. No guns, you see?"

"I remember my father told me he'd hire an escort for the delivery, just in case. The mercs were pissed off when one of theirs got killed inside the slums."

"Mercs?"

She snorted. It was not a particularly amused sound. "Yeah, the same company I've spent so much of my time stalking recently, believe it or not."

"I mean… they're your father's main contractors for all things slums, right? So, not really much of a surprise."

"Yeah, I guess not."

We fell silent again. I waited, feeling oddly empty, until the elevator finally dinged and let me out into the megabuilding's lobby.

Immediately I tensed. I felt the eyes of people ghosting over me. I almost turned around and went back to the apartment then and there.

"What happened? With the borg?"

I winced, but then I grasped onto her words like they were a lifeline. It was honestly easy to focus on our conversation over all else when the subject was tied into so much trauma and fear.

"He almost got to us, but then another guy intercepted him. I think Jason knew who he was? Anyway, he told the borg he was 'cleaning up after a brat who should know better', before he revealed he had a bunch of cybernetics, too. Jason's parents probably hired him to protect their asshole son while he was roughing it with us slum rats."

"I take it the bodyguard won?"

"Yeah. I think it was pretty close. Or maybe I'm just remembering it all wrong. Anyway, the mule — merc? — died, and then I realized I was stuck as the only witness to a mess that some corpo's brat caused. Three guesses what typically happens to people in that kind of position?"

"Please, those kinds of people don't exist!" she exclaimed sarcastically, making me chuckle.

"Exactly," I mumbled as the megabuilding's front doors swished open for me and I stepped into the street proper. "So, ahhh, I may have shot first? Stole Jason's gun, which was practically a handcannon, let me tell you, and I got him straight in the face. Jason freaked out, but he no longer had a gun and I did, so…"

"It was you. You got all the cybernetics," Amelia breathed, making me swallow thickly.

"If you want me to just… leave, I'll do it," I choked out, trying not to think about her arms. "I — I know that —"

"Leave?! What are you talking about, you idiot?! I'd hug you if you were next to me right now! Do you have any idea what kind of a mess my father was about to cause? Trust me, if that gang had gotten the cybernetics, they'd all have gotten corrupted into monstrosities right there in the middle of the slums. Imagine an outbreak like you caused, except so much worse. It's the slums! People wouldn't have noticed for way too long. By then, the corrupted creatures they'd all have become would have grown in number and started spilling over into the rest of the city."

"You're not angry? You don't — don't hate me? Your arms —"

"Were a result of me annoying my father when he was already in a shit mood. Fuck! I made that comment before and — I didn't know back then that — Ugh. Yes, the stolen cybernetics had a part to play in why he did this to me, but it's not like I could have gone much longer without it happening. He was eying me up for that surgery for the longest time. He really wanted an assistant with Medic abilities because he's always been way too much of a coward to experiment on himself."

I chuckled again at the description of the good doctor. To my surprise, the relief spreading through me and making my extremities tingle was almost enough to distract me from the people I was passing by. Not quite, but almost.

"Yeah, that checks out. Still… I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven. Wait! That means you still have… erm, had the rest of the cybernetics, right? How?! My father had his merc go through all your stuff and he didn't find anything."

"He did? Oh, well, I hid them. I knew I'd be in massive trouble if someone found them with me, and I was terrified that whoever I'd stolen from would come after me… which he did. And I got a bunch of people killed because I was terrified of losing my eyesight."

The admission was heavy. I couldn't keep even my mental voice from reflecting the emotions I had on the subject, which were predictably messy.

"That's one way of looking at things."

I barely managed not to snap at her. "And how would you 'look at things'?"

"You saved the lives of way more people. Maybe not on purpose, but I already told you what would have happened. Would the people you lost have survived if creatures like the Stalker and the Runner were freely running around in the slums?"

I gave that question the careful consideration it deserved. "Maybe. I don't know. They were a major gang. They could have retreated to their HQ and toughed it out."

"Or the high concentration of humans in the building would have drawn even more eldritch creatures to converge on them. Trust me, I've read way more reports on their behavioral patterns than you have."

"Not hard. I barely read any."

"Exactly. So, I'm the expert here. But, anyway, do you think things would have been better if you didn't do a thing and let this… Jason have the cybernetics instead?"

"Maybe?"

"He'd have taken them home. Or, if I'm getting his vibe right, he'd have 'gifted' them to people. And then we'd be at square one with a bunch of kids turning into monsters. Really, I assure you this is just about the best possible result. Well… the best possible result would be us getting the cybernetics back, actually. What are the chances of that happening, by the way?"

"Pretty good? If the slums haven't burned to the ground already, that is. In that case, I can't help ya."

"I don't think even my father's merc could have done that." She giggled, and I glanced at her feed to see her shaking her head at me exasperatedly the way she sometimes did. Okay, fine, the way she often did. "So, we need to add 'cybernetics retrieval' to our list of things to do."

"Do we really need them? I mean… it doesn't seem like it's a good idea to mix and match different ones," I pointed out, remembering my own rather adverse reaction to such a procedure.

"We do. Might not use them at all, but it's better if they're with us. Less chance of some idiot coming across them and unleashing a mini apocalypse by accident. Besides, there are some matching pieces. I'm pretty sure Stalker legs were included in the package, for example."

That actually did sound promising, to be honest. I wasn't ready to have my legs lopped off any time soon, but when I did feel ready, those would be among the best possible choices for me.

"Yeah, okay," I agreed. "Getting those back should be pretty high on our list of priorities."

"Exactly. Now, focus up. I'll lead ya to some of our targets' favorite bars."

I winced again, finally forcing myself to pay more attention to the street I was on. Being out and about was slowly getting easier, yes, but the sweeping eyes of strangers still made me want to shy away.

I closed my eyes, ignoring Amelia's grumbles about cutting off her feed. Deep breath in, deep breath out. When I opened my eyes again, I felt a little more prepared to face things.

I could do this.

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