Gamma Protocol (031) (Patreon)

[031]

I slowly opened my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling, in an unfamiliar room.

The jolt of panic calmed down as soon as I confirmed I was neither restrained nor in some sort of prison. Or at least, if this was a prison, then it had to be some sort of house-arrest. The room had a faint smell of stale energy drinks and sweat. There were no pictures to speak of, only posters of mostly-naked women. No windows either. The faint whirr of an AC unit could be heard coming in through an open door.

I didn’t move, instead taking a long quiet moment to put my thoughts in order. My body ached all over, but it felt whole, which was good. Nothing felt broken or out of place, and my thoughts were clear, poison stat was still at 12%, meaning I hadn’t been drugged (I hope? I wasn’t sure whether ordinary drugs counted as poison).

Frowning, I glanced at the little box in the corner of my vision.

AP: 9 / 150

At six AP a day, that meant I’d been unconscious for roughly 36 hours, definitely concerning.

Carefully sitting up, I was glad that I was not naked, wearing a shirt and pants. I remembered passing out in the shower. It didn’t feel like I was in danger, but I looked around for my Bulstra. No luck, the room was occupied mostly by empty cans and litter of various ages.

Barefoot, I very quietly tested the door, it was unlocked. Carefully peeking out, I confirmed this was indeed an apartment or house of some sort. There was the sound of music being blasted at full volume down the corridor beyond a closed door, with other loud clanging noises mixed in

I promptly turned the other way, wanting to investigate first as I continued around what I was convinced to be some sort of communal apartment. Making as little sound as possible (not that it would be necessary with the racket down the hall), I discreetly checked behind each door. It was an apartment alright, with lots of bedrooms that had minimal decorations save the odd poster or nicknack. I continued on until I reached a kitchenette, finding someone already there.

A young woman, slim, dressed in little more than an oil-stained wife-beater, cargo pants, and showing shoulders riddled in rose tattoos. Her short red hair pulsed with a dim glow to it, betraying that it was entirely implants. I watched as the young woman was eating a meal, humming away… I recognized the voice. “Isia?” I hadn’t seen her outside of her weather-protection suit until now.

She jumped, slamming her hips against the table and nearly knocking it over, swearing. “MOTHER-FUCKING-STOP-SNEAKING-ON-heeeeeeeeey Axel!” She hastily put down the plate that’d nearly fallen over, trying to casually put the table back in place. “How’s my favorite monster-killing choom doing? Everything alright?” 

“What happened?” I asked, making a point to look around. “Where are we?”

Isia went quiet, smile becoming stiffer.

My eyes narrowed. “You’re chatting with someone else, aren’t you?”

“Nooooo?” Her voice hitched, avoiding eyecontact entirely.

I crossed my arms. “I can’t help but notice you’re not answering my questions.”

She offered her plate. “Burrito?”

My stomach chose that moment to let out an audible growling complaint, betraying my attempt at a serious expression. I sighed. “Is it Baconado?”

“Is that the brand you prefer?”

“The opposite.”

“Then it’s definitely not that.”

I snatched the plate from her grasp. “You’re going to need more than one.” I grumbled, sitting across from her, watching with some amusement as Isia scrambled for the fridge, bringing back three more.

“Water? Soda? Vodka?” She hastily offered, quickly glancing at the entrance and back. I took a moment to breathe in, there was a slight scent of sweat, but overall Isia reeked of nervousness. Not the aggressive sort, though.

“Just to be clear, I’m expecting answers, but will wait while I eat. Water’s fine, thanks.” I replied, slightly confused by her flushed scramble to get me a glass before she sat down.

Isia clearly reeked of someone who wanted to be anywhere but here. Not quite cornered, but fidgeting and staring at the door every other second. Rather than grill her about the details, I took my sweet time, enjoying my meal, and taking the chance to look over the system notifications that’d been tucked aside and waiting for my attention.

+Strength: 5+
 . .∟Endurance: 5 [34%] -> [6](+)

+Speed: 5+
 . .∟Agility: 5 [49%] -> [72%]

+Durability: 5+
 . .∟Healing: 5 [00%] -> [23%]

Charisma: 6 -> 7

+Quests Unlocked.
 . .∟New Quest added

It was a pleasant surprise to see the numbers go up. And though I eyed the button that was in the endurance level-up, my attention was drawn to the bottom of the notification.

Quest?

I immediately requested the system to elaborate. And it shoved a new screen against my face, smug and full of itself.

Bearer of bad news (1):
 Defeat meguca Bear in single combat.

Failure Conditions:
 Meguca Bear’s death.
 Using guns (don’t cheat!).

Rewards:
 Max AP Bonus: [+200]
 Strength: [+2]
 New Quest: Bearer of bad news (2)

I choked on the burrito.

Isia jumped away. “I swear I didn’t do anything!”

Still fighting to recover my breath, I took the glass of water and downed it. The glares at the system were spared for the time being. What did it think would happen if I tried confronting Bear again!? At least it had the common sense to clarify Bear’s death would be a failure condition. Not that me dying would be any good for me, either. I made a mental note to sit down and talk with the system about not letting suicidal thoughts take the wheel.

For now, though, I had a more important thing to address. “Something’s up,” I said after clearing my throat, pinning Isia on the chair with a frown.

She squirmed, red hair pulsing once before turning a mute matte color, glancing at the entrance, then back at me. “Promise… not to get mad and squish me like a bug?”

“I…” I gave the request a moment of consideration. Was that the source of her fear? Anxiety I might just up and attack her? “I promise I won’t squish you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be angry.”

The young woman bit her lip. “The people who beat you up might have done it because of… your affiliation to us.”

There was a very long silence.

My brows furrowed.

She couldn’t mean Bear… right? “Explain.”

Isia nodded quickly. “Well, we’d set up the streaming event, made it public, and… might have told a few people outside the gang about it. You know, rub it in, show them we’re getting back what we lost, that we got what it takes to handle ourselves and all that.” She grimaced. “I swear we kept all the details secret! Quinn blurred your face from the clips and distorted your voice.” She hurried to add. “But they probably had a bug planted in the Well or something and tracked you down, and-”

And they found me, unconscious, in a motel, black and blue all over not long after having gone on a “trial run” with them. By all accounts, it looked like they’d come to pick me up for the stream I’d agreed to do and found me there. How bad of a situation had I been in? I didn’t feel hurt right now, but when I’d gone to the shower I’d definitely felt shitty in every way imaginable.

I raised my hand. “I’m going to stop you right there,” I said, keeping my voice even and calm. “I wasn’t jumped by anyone.” If anything, it was me who jumped someone, but mostly due to trespassing. It was just another thing for the tasks ahead: look for someplace I could hunt without risking getting found out.

Isia looked visibly confused at my claim. “Are you sure?” She asked. “Because when we found you in that shower, there wasn’t a part of you that wasn’t black or blue, or both.” She noticed my stare prompting her to elaborate. “When you didn’t show up to the session, we worried! We went to check up on the motel, and Grills said you’d come in the previous night but hadn’t left, and-”

“Oh.” That just about confirmed my suspicions. “Sorry about that. I should’ve probably found a way to tell you I wasn’t going to make it.”

The silence was only spoiled by the AC’s whirring squeaky fan.

Isia very slowly blinked up at me, before bursting into laughter.

“What!?” I hesitated, feeling like I’d just been put on the spot.

“You… you looked half dead and you’re apologizing!” She cackled, holding her ribs. “Oh God, if you were any more of a corpo goon, you’d be offering compensation!”

“I am not a goon.” I stated flatly, forever burying into the deeper recesses of my mind that I had briefly considered the prospect of compensation. It was just common courtesy, dammit! “Where’s my stuff?”

“Your stuff’s in the motel, Grills wouldn’t let us take it with us.” She mimed cocking a shotgun. “That crazy droid’s pretty strict about theft, but only in equally weird ways. Good thing she doesn’t care about clients getting kidnapped though, wouldn’t have been able to bring you to the ripperdoc.”

And just like that, my blood ran cold.

Hand reaching up to the back of my head, trying to hide the jolt of panic behind an awkward grimace. My hand sought my neuralink out of habit, yet a wave of both relief and disappointment passed over me when I only found smooth skin there. “What… Did they say?” I asked very carefully.

Had they taken blood samples? Had they learned something they shouldn’t? I was definitely going to need to talk to Moreau about this. It was one thing to pretend I had some weird biomods on me, but what if they’d found out it was more than that? The thought of having to kill some innocent ripperdoc sent a wave of nausea through me.

Would I be able to if it came down to it?

Isia fortunately didn’t catch any of my turmoil. “Don’t know the details.” She shrugged. “How did you get pummeled like that anyway?”

“Car.”

“Car?” She asked.

I nodded curtly. “Car. I just didn’t see it coming, their auto-stop must’ve been busted.”

Isia growled. “Or they disabled it themselves. Did you happen to take the plates?” She asked with a surprising fervor in her voice. “We’re not about to let someone run one of ours over and get away with it.”

One of ours.

At the proclamation, I took a moment to look around, a bit more carefully this time. To really take in my surroundings. No windows, a few rat-with-halo drawings, an AC that squeaked too much… This was their base, wasn’t it?

“Are we underground?” I asked, trying to shift the subject. Worry gnawed at the back of my head but too aware I wasn’t about to get answers from Isia. I didn’t know what the issues were, yet, panicking and pushing could make it worse.

“Uh… yeah.” Isia nodded quickly. “Welcome to the Rat Nest.”

Maybe I’d been thinking too poorly about them. They’d seen me half-dead in a shower and immediately brought me to the safest place they could think of. I felt a pang of regret at having to lie about the actual nature of my injuries.

“Thanks for the concern.” I quickly blurted out. “And no, I… didn’t get the plates. I… everything was kind of a blur.” I withheld the grimace. “Sorry for the whole hassle. I really am ok now. I should probably head back.”

Isia quickly shook her head. “Currently spreading the news about the non-emergency, everyone thought you’d be out for another day or three. Also, I’m no doc, but I think moving around isn’t the best idea without a green-light from the medic, make sure everything’s where it ought to be.”

Munching on my meal, I quietly nodded. It didn’t look like Isia knew, or if she did, her scent had shifted to something far calmer, there was barely any of the fear remaining. She was clearly focused on a chat or something else in her neuralink, staring blankly into space.

The system threw another notification at me.

+Strength: 5+
. .∟Endurance: 5 [34%] -> [6](+)

It was a lot less suicidal than the quest. I tentatively pushed the plus symbol, wondering what explanations it’d provide.

A wave of shimmering light passed over me. As if, for a split second, I’d been covered in sparkles for an instant, normal the next. At that moment, I felt my body… relax. It was as if I’d received the best hypersonic massage in existence, followed by a feeling of wellness and just… energy. There was no simple way to explain it, as if my body had been stuffed with extra batteries.

Isia jolted. “What was that!?” She blurted out.

“What was what?” I asked, staring blankly at her, face quickly and forcefully neutral.

She hastily gestured at me. “There was some… something! A light or something!”

“I’m… not sure what you mean?” I tentatively offered.

She kept gesturing at me up and down. “I swear I saw a light!”

“I didn’t see anything.” I doubled down, trying to give my best impression of a nonchalant shrug.

“But… you glowed!” She grabbed my arm, twisting it this way and that. “I swear I saw you flash.”

“I did not flash you.” I quickly replied.

Trying to glare at me, she failed her fight against a chuckle. “I swear if all of that was a set-up for some pun…” Her tone was petulant as she looked away, rubbing at her cheeks.

“I do not know what you’re talking about.” I insisted, inwardly sighing in relief.

She didn’t answer, looking away quickly, muttering even harder, focusing on whatever it was that she was dealing with.

+Strength: 5+
 ∟Endurance: 6 [00%]

Until Strength reaches level 6, Endurance progress will go to Lift.

That… felt off.

Not the concept itself of having the excess going over to a different sub-stat, but the idea itself of the substats. I didn’t remember there being a “Lift” stat to begin with, and I’d checked. Cocking my head a little as I stared at the stat list, I realized the number of sub-options had changed.

The more I stared at the stat-line, the more concrete the feeling became that it was… too needlessly complex?

Durability had “breathing” as one of the substats, while “kinetics” was in Speed, and both of them were at 0% progress, which was just befuddling in every way. What did “kinetics” even mean? If it was related to getting hit by stuff, I’d been hit plenty, yet it was at 0%. It was like someone had just jumbled together concepts and thrown numbers at it.

I remembered how,, for a brief period, the system had thought that my progress in endurance had been infinitesimal. Clearly there was some wonky things going on here. 

I hadn’t even finished forming the thought when the whole stat lineup suddenly blinked out of existence. The only thing left behind being the AP stat-bar.

The AP bar vibrated violently, in a panic.

The system came back in a rush, thrusting a notification to my face in urgency, as if it’d just ran back into the room screaming at the top of their lungs.

NEW QUEST!
Shadow of a Doubt (1):
 Survive 7 days.
 Progress: 2 / 7.

Failure Conditions:
 Axel’s death.
 Shadow meguca’s death.

Rewards:
 New Passive Skill: Night Vision
 New Active Skill: Slip
 Speed: [+2]
 New Quest: Shadow of a Doubt (2)

I nearly choked on my own tongue.

I really needed to call Moreau.

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