The City of Ionia

He slowly walked towards me. I got into my stance, ready for his inevitable attack. And sure enough, it came with speed and strength, clashing with our fists. I parried, but he dodged and parried everything I threw.

Behind me was the desk and monitors, leaving no room to back away. I had to take the initiative and push forward.

He countered with quick speed and fluid movements. I was able to nail a quick jab to his face, forcing him to step back.

He smiled, wiping his lip, which wasn't bleeding, and raised the hilt. No blade, no shine, nothing. Just a handle.

"Huh…?"

"Toys… I like my toys with a little twist."

A sharp, mechanical noise, like metal grinding against itself, made me twitch. The blade shot out from the hilt in a blink. In less than a second, he went from unarmed to armed and aimed right at me.

I flinched back instinctively, eyes wide.

The blade itself was narrow, too narrow to be normal. It almost looked like a lockpick.

He gave it a casual spin, and the blade retracted again with a soft chik and vanished into the hilt like a magic trick.

There was no weight shift or effort.

I realized he could stab, pull back, and stab again before I even registered the first move.

"Toys…" he said with a grin, "I like my toys with a quick maneuver."

I slashed with speed, the blade retracting then reappearing. I twisted and turned my body to dodge, only for the edge to slice my sleeve clean, missing flesh. My back hit the desk, rattling the monitors.

I was off balance, and he took advantage of it. He charged in a blur of motion. I barely raised my blade in time to block. Steel clanged against each other, and the vibrations shot up my arm.

He was faster than he looked. His moves were quick and fluid, even when wearing a suit. The retracting blade enabled him to attack in tight bursts, making him even more lethal.

He stabbed, pulled back, stabbed again with each motion too quick to see. I wasn't sure how I was able to block or see his strikes. At that point, I took the wheel instinctively.

I pivoted and angled my blade to redirect his next attack. He twisted his dagger mid–attack, pretending to go then slashing high. I dodged in the nick of time and felt the air graze my face.

I countered with a strike to the ribs, but he stepped in close, knocking my strike aside with his dagger. His elbow slammed into my jaw, forcing me to stumble back.

I grabbed my face and winced. With open eyes, he charged at my body, unarmed. His dagger lay on the ground beside me. How did it end up there? When did it end up there?

I quickly looked up and realized I had bigger issues. The man lunged at my unbalanced stance, lifted my feet off the ground, and slammed me into the table, with the monitors and papers crumbled down with me.

My back hit first, leaving a force that exploded through my entire torso. The table snapped in two, leaving me flat on the ground, surrounded by broken monitor parts and scattered paper. My ears rang as if a buzzing sound drowned me. My body ached, and the breath I tried to inhale felt heavy in my lungs. I gritted my teeth and swallowed the blood in my mouth.

He lunged on top of me, sat on my chest, and used the weight of his body to shove my neck through the floor.

"Guhh…"

His firm grip tightened around my neck, fingers pressed harder and harder. The pressure was instant and brutal. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't make a sound.

I tried to squiggle my way out, but the broken pieces of the desk dug into my back. The ringing filled my ears, and my lungs gasped for air. My vision began to fade as I tried pushing his face away.

That disgusting face hovered over mine, calm as ever with a slight grin, watching me fade out of existence.

I was drowning above ground.

"The fault isn't mine. It's not personal." He said with that same grin.

I resisted the best I could, extending my hand in an attempt to poke his eye. He briefly let go of my neck and grabbed his dagger, extended the blade, and kept one hand firm on my neck.

"Toodaloo." He brought the knife down with speed, aiming at my face.

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Defenseless as I was, I couldn't do anything. The only option was to delay the inevitable.

In hopes of blocking the dagger, I brought my hand up and used it as a sacrifice. That way, a blade wouldn't hit my skull, and I would still have a fighting chance.

This was it. I wasn't sure how much longer I could fight.

The parasite was nowhere to be found. I would've thought it would say something by now.

There was nothing I could do but hope that somehow a miracle would happen.

And that miracle became reality.

The hand I used as a flesh shield to block the blade blocked it entirely. The blade connected, yet my hand didn't hurt.

I stared in disbelief. The blade made complete contact. I felt the force and everything, but there was no pain. No blood. Nothing.

Then I saw it. A thin hexagonal pattern rippled outward from the area of impact, glowing a gentle blue around my hand, arm, shoulder, and torso. It completely caught the blade.

"A full body shield…" said the man in a soft tone.

Right, I completely forgot about this new technology. I wasn't sure of the logistics, but I assumed it was due to my desperation. It was connected to my nape, so maybe it had to do with nervous system signals, or however the body communicates with itself.

On the ground, breathing hard, I stared at my hand.

My neck felt liberated. His weight wasn't crushing my chest or neck. I coughed, trying to catch my breath with him still on top of me.

I was invincible. This was my chance to stay alive in this mess!

Without the scrapes impaling my back and my heart pounding, I drove my hands into his chest. The shield shimmered again as I pushed as hard as I could and threw him off my body.

We quickly stood, seeing eye to eye with one another.

I didn't waste any time and went on the attack aggressively. He defended but couldn't attack. Nothing he did injured me.

I threw punches left and right, to the bridge of the nose, ribs, and groin, driving him backwards away from the broken desk.

He blocked with either his blade or forearm, though nothing hurt. I felt no pain in any connection. It was like I could fight without worrying about getting injured.

I fought with a free mind.

And with that free mind, I lashed out carelessly.

The blue shield protected my carelessness.

Mistakes were overlooked without consequence, and improper fighting techniques were compensated for by my ability to avoid injury.

His head snapped back, and he dropped the blade he had scooped. It clattered to the floor right beside us.

His once-black, fresh suit was now torn, with patches of blood visible on the white undershirt.

He moved slowly. He wasn't the same attacker as earlier with quick and precise strikes. Knowing he could do nothing, he was forced to accept defeat. At least that's how I saw it.

The blade rested on the ground, still warm. I stepped forward and drove the blade into his stomach, straight through the ribs. He gasped sharply, and his entire body went still with wide eyes.

I pulled the blade out and stabbed him again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again.

I looked him in the eyes, refusing to break contact. Whether he was dead or not, I stared into them as though he could see me.

Just like that, he stopped breathing and collapsed to the floor. My lungs felt like they weighed a thousand bricks. My white shirt was stained with blood, a mixture of mine and his.

His dead body collapsed on the ground. I kneeled on top of his bloody stomach and stabbed him in the chest multiple times.

Too many times to count.

The sound of wet blood. My vision blurred. My arms moved uncontrollably, as though they had a mind of their own. I couldn't count anymore. I didn't want to.

"You can't kill me," I whispered through my clenched teeth.

Another stab.

"I cheated death before."

Another stab.

"You worthless scum, trying to take me away from my…"

My voice breaks with my hands trembling, sticky with blood. I dropped the blade, and it clattered beside the body.

I stayed on top of the dead body, hunched over, gasping for air. Thoughts spiraled out of control, filling up like a landfill.

…friends.

They were going to leave.

Move on.

Grow.

Evolve.

All without me.

Fine peace.

Purpose.

Freedom.

Beauty.

And me?

Look at me. Kneeling in a pool of blood, like it was the only thing I knew. I couldn't grow out of this life. I was stuck in it. Rotting in it.

Tears streamed down my face, mixing with sweat and blood. I let them fall without interfering.

"I don't want to do this anymore," I whispered to myself, "I don't want to do any of this."

The room didn't respond. Just silence. The kind that makes you feel like you were never supposed to be here at all.

"I wonder…" I whispered. "Will an alarm ring? Will there be a surprise?" I looked at my bloody hands without the lenses of the blue shield. The same hands that thrusted a blade countless times into a corpse. "Will I wake up in the outside world?"