December 21st

Diana

My memories since the raid were a blur, after confronting Ripley and… changing, I lost consciousness until I was found and taken in for recovery. Trixie had taken care of my injured state, but it was all just muted and shades of gray for the most part. Even her confusion at my altered body was just a confused blur that melted away into another scene.

But I'd kept up with the news. The official story was that after a brutal raid, in conjoint with Yuzhou support and Crimson Souls mercenaries, Captain Ishram Krishav and Yuzhou's Ryu Operative Jinsung Park had eliminated the Bladefather, while my squad had dealt with the Bladedaughter. It was a complete omission of the true facts. I knew she was the one who killed her father after our fight, and then she went out to confront the police at which point… I have no idea how they apprehended her.

Soon after I went down to meet Ripley, Crimson Souls retreated and their vehicles were ambushed by masked soldiers. The police labeled it as an attack from Metal Heavens, but I doubted so. Crimson Souls were taking away one resource valuable to only one man.

Skeleton had attacked them for corpses.

And what worried me most, was that despite my questioning, I couldn't get a verification on where The Bladefather's body had gone.

I hadn't contacted Dryder yet, so I couldn't figure out his status either, not while I was busy and surrounded by police members. I'd spent the last two days at the hospital where Omen had set up a base camp, isolated for now, likely because he was the first to notice what had changed across me.

My left eye was partially made of scarlet metal now, and my right arm was a fusion of blood and steel. Not actual Shardware, but just a combination of both that had melted together to create some silver alloy the limb was now composed off.

The doctors had read my file and tried to heal me the way I'd always done so, with electricity, but this time… my reaction to it was different. The second they sparked some voltage into me, one of them went flying as I seized in a revelry of sensations. I couldn't quite describe it, but those tingles which had always felt so comfortable now had a maddening quality to them — as though my body was so eager for them that in it's excitement my powers would detonate.

As far as I guessed, it was a result of Mutational Overdosing… but… that didn't make sense.

Development: 48%

Tier II Mutations:

[G] Soul Resonance [Deviant]: 59% [1 GC]

[G] Soul Trigger [Deviant]: 44% [1 GC]

[G] Electrosomatic Organism [Metabolism/Cognition]: 61% [16(15) GC]

[G] Limited Morphology Manipulation [Alteration]: 82% [18 GC]

[G] Electromagnetic Domain [Energy/Cognition]: 68% [15(14) GC]

[G] Kinetic-Thermal Catalyst [Energy/Metabolism]: 55% [14(13) GC]

[G] Inorganic Metabolism [Metabolism/Integrity]: 65% [16 GC]

[G] Energetic Release [Energy]: 38% [25(24) GC]

[G] Synthetic Infusion [Alteration/Integrity]: Error% [23 GC]

%@Error: -Unknown- [54 GC]

Gene Capacity: 179/135

Integrity: Bronze X

Energy: Silver I

Capacity: Bronze X

Grade: Gold II

Fire Tendency: Silver I

Spark Tendency: Bronze II

An unknown Mutation with a Capacity of 54? According to my research, that would only be expected at Tier III… why couldn't my Implant or Neuroframe decipher it? Even Synthetic Infusion was now labeled with an Error in its Development percentage. I didn't understand this, and neither did Dr. Faltest, the Geneticist sent by my father.

She was watching some diagrams around her, each relating to me, a pencil chewing in her teeth until it snapped. "What… happened? Tell me the truth."

I couldn't. Like it or not, whatever we'd stumbled upon was something I could never share to anyone. Who knows where that information would go and how they'd try and verify it. I didn't want any more children ending up as lab experiments. So I left it as simple as-

"The Bladefather put something in me, it affected my Mutations." I said, once more, she didn't seem to believe me. And for good reason, looking around at my body there were vein-like circuits and bits of metal intertwined with my flesh. What pieces of my suit that hadn't burned away were now a part of me.

Dr. Faltest groaned into her hands. "At least your Implant isn't… degrading anymore, but at this rate you'll need to reach Silver IV Capacity to be stable enough to gain new Mutations, even then… you're about at the point where if you just get what Mutations you have to their full development, you can get to Tier III… but that'll take a while, even for you. Most of your Mutations are at the stage where their rate of progression will plateau."

I nodded, eager to try and get out of this hospital at the soonest. Every day, more bodies identities were being confirmed, from the prison to the Bladefather sending an Aerodyne crashing down. I knew Rick was dead, so was Sabrina, and the Lieutenant was said to have died as well… I couldn't confirm whether what I'd done had worked or not.

Dr. Faltest's pencil broke in her teeth, an admission snapping out from her mouth as well. "This is above my paygrade. You shouldn't be able to… bond with Shardware. And it's unfathomable just how deep it's been integrated inside of you."

"You sound like you're worried you'll get fired."

"I'm an esteemed geneticist." She retorted.

"Do you even know what a Deviant Mutation is?" I scoffed, she raised an eyebrow.

"That sounds like a made up term."

"You just weren't high enough on their payroll." I sighed. "Look, I'll be fine, I just… need some time to recover."

I began moving to get off my hospital bed, unplucking the IV drips lodged below my collarbone — it had taken hours for the doctors to find a way to put it in. Every slight movement I made had a faint electrical humming, and just touching metal like the IV stand was like my mind was jolting into it's confines. I couldn't deny it, the very electricity I manipulated was now… carrying my thoughts.

Like Warpcode. Or something like it. Dr. Faltest sighed, unable to do anything to stop me other than officiate my discharge from the hospital unit. I was healthy, it was only when it came to conducting electricity that my body felt… different.

Grabbing some clothes and making my way to the washroom, I bit my lip as I disrobed from the hospital gown to make full sense of the alterations to my body. First, my left eye. It had been shot through and reformed, it reflected like silver metal but there remained red veins and discoloration that was certainly organic. The pupil had turned a pale white, a halo around my dark pupil.

The rest of my body had faint tattoo-like lines of pulsing underneath it, like a circuitry of curves and angular bends of steel moulded on the surface of my skin — some going far deeper. My right arm, however, was more machine than human, yet still looked somewhat organic all things considered. It was shaped like a normal arm right now, but entirely silver in color with scales of steel that had a faint crimson underneath.

Tensing, I called upon my Energy to invoke lightning through me, the current instinctively travelled up my right arm which buzzed louder as it began glowing and trembling. I couldn't stop the shakes, the moment I called upon power was when my body yearned to unleash it. With just the tiniest release of thought, it zapped out in an arc and connected to the steel tap of the sink.

As it drenched in, I flinched as my mind felt like it had been stretched past what it should be. That instinctive bend of my thoughts to return to me crunched the metal of the tap and burst it out, sending water spraying up in a fountain. I shook my head, disbelief crawling in my head as I tried to rationalize this.

Once I increased my Capacity, got a hold of everything that had made me unstable, I would be fine again. I had to be.

At the very least, it was only identified that my Electrosomatic Organism, Electromagnetic Domain and Limited Morphology Manipulation that had become unstable. The first two were clear in their effects of massive instability, but I had no idea what it meant for my shapeshifting to have been afflicted.

So, strumming up some courage, I began to shape my flesh. It came easier, more instinctively, as skin and muscle slid over each other, my hair darkening and my pupils shifting in color to take on Lilian Rose's appearance. Remarkably, I could suffocate the metal poking out of me, instead crimson veins began to take their place as muscle forcibly hardened over them like a coffin.

It looked like vines of blood had formed on my skin, and shifting them… they morphed like fire as my skin felt hotter, warmer. The only thing that remained largely unchanged was my right arm, it's shape remaining but the metal darkened into the shade of blood. That would be an issue when it came to concealing my identity from the police.

The second issue came when I tried to revert back the changes. Flesh began to morph, but suddenly… it was as though I forgot what my original form looked like.

"You have to be kidding me." I spat into the mirror, my hands clenching around the sink. My blood-steel arm cracked it. Even as my eyes shifted between colors, I failed to get them back into their silver — and… the transformation was a lot more draining than normal.

Was it not limited anymore? Growling, my left hand cracked the porcelain sink as suddenly claws ejected out and the entire limb hardened with a black and red sheen. Stepping back, I seethed at the sight of how easily I was losing control now. I didn't want to prove him right.

Him… I didn't know how to feel about the things I'd done, how easily I went into the prospect of attacking and deciding to kill Ripley. I was conflicted, even now, about letting him go. About… trusting what Starlight had shown me.

I wanted everything he promised to be true, but the fact remained that he lied, that he betrayed my trust. I let the warm hiss of a shower eat away at my thoughts, each droplet steamed off me, the heat feeding into my cells as they automatically converted even the tiny kinetic energy of the water into electricity.

And it… tingled up my skin, like a layer of discomfort and itchiness. I scratched, and a trail of translucent red went with it… it wasn't exactly painful, even relieving like a skin peel. So I continued to let my body transform the forces around me into that lightning, as inch by inch my body began to froth with red boils that dripped down into the drain.

The color from my hair faded as well, paling out into it's shiny silver glow as I continued to shed the identity of Lilian Rose and become Diana once more… okay, so it was painful. I felt sore and tired, but couldn't deny the relief at determining the method to return back into Diana.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

It always came back to electricity, it seemed to awaken the inner circuitry inside of me. After making sure all bits of my shed skin was flushed down the drain, I dried up and wore the change of clothes I'd been offered, among them was a long and sleek silver glove for my hands, and an eyepatch.

I frowned as I saw the elaborate design on it, customized to shine silver and with a resemblance of a bird's wing embroidered within to fit with a SynTec logo. It even fit comfortably, which meant all of this was designed by my father as a custom job. He was never too slow to make me a walking marketing gimmick.

Stepping out, I saw Dr. Faltest dealing with some paperwork, and I decided now would be my moment to escape while I could. Striding through the hallway, the people were surprised to see me, many of them reverent of my name now that I'd been given the title as one of those who subdued the Bladedaughter. Omen didn't want the public or even the other police figuring out who it really was.

I was out to pull that truth from him, but no matter who I asked, I got no responses for his location. Some of them were simply too awestruck by my new appearance, silver eyepatch and all, to give me a coherent explanation. In the end, he came for me, as two Investigators I knew to be of the Special rank nodded and waved for me to follow.

We ended up deeper in the hospital, by it's main Neural center where I saw Omen with his four steel arms maneuvering holographic screens. There was one more man beside him, his entire body radiating with electrical signals. As the two Investigators behind me left, I growled openly. "What the hell is Skeleton doing over here?"

Mr. Skeleton chuckled, clapping his hands. "I've been your man on the inside, Silvereye. Nice to see your literal name becoming… even more literal."

Maybe I didn't mind this unstable boost to my power. "Omen. Tell me what the fuck-"

"He's your Lieutenant now," Skeleton interrupted, "treat him with respect."

"Omen… Lieutenant Omen, how long has he been involved?" I didn't know if I could hold myself back right now.

"He's been my informant into the criminal world for quite some time now." Omen still didn't look at me as weaved data together. "The nature of our cooperation leads to less… casualties."

"Less?" I sarcastically laughed. "What's the body count?"

"One-hundred-and-thirty-three of Two-hundred-and-seventeen." He answered without missing a beat. "As for Muramasa? Four-hundred-and-fifty-two of Five-hundred-and-seventy-nine members we identified inside."

"How many is this bastard getting?" I looked straight at Skeleton, who raised his hands innocently.

"Enough." Omen said. "Enough to give us the edge."

"On what, the Swarm?" I asked, and his silence told me I'd hit the mark. "This bastard has probably-"

Skeleton spoke. "I'll have you know I had a lovely mother, Investigator Jones, or is it Ulrich? I can never quite tell which of your fathers was the one that abandoned you."

Electricity snapped between my gloved fingers, a coffee flask crushed up right in front of skeleton. He didn't look bothered, unafraid in every aspect. "I can see how you beat Dreadwire… that wasn't actually something I'd been expecting. Nor that he'd allied himself with The Dogwhistler."

"How'd you know-"

"There was a trail of Arachne-based Shardware all around you." Omen said. "Ripley Donovick escaped with six Silver BUGs and a single Gold. And he was undoubtedly the source of her breaching into our network. Skeleton has informed me, that we should soon expect The Dogwhistler to become more… proficient."

"Do you know who she is?" I asked Omen. If he Ripley's identity, then...

"Do you?" His eyes finally met mine. "I have my suspicions, but I know if I prod too deep as to threaten her, she will bar no restraint in tearing down this city to kill me. What you saw happen is only a fraction of her true power. Rewriting memories, personalities and identities is one aspect, the sheer control she can rip from our heads is another."

"And… what will you do about him?" I asked, but it was Skeleton who responded for the case of Dreadwire.

"You're the one that let him escape, we'll respect that." Skeleton smiled. "He's important to my plans."

I didn't like the idea of that, I still couldn't know if Ripley would betray my trust again and return to being Dreadwire, but Skeleton playing dirty to pull him back in was something I hoped he was smart enough to understand would be a bad idea. "Don't."

"Oh, I'm not going to force him, or anything." He pushed my concerns away. "It's just who he is, I'll be giving him the cure to his mother soon… once I can confirm one simple thing. You see, I've collected a lot of bodies, but there's a few I didn't get."

He began listing on his fingers. "Heart Seeker, oh I really wanted her, Hexblood too. Azure Phoenix was too burnt to be of use, besides I doubt that unkillable pigeon actually died. Steel Vanguard's brain was missing, which made his pile of shredded organs useless. But… most importantly, I didn't get the body of Anabelle Grazhe."

"She was shot by Alex, through The Dogwhistler's meddling." I commented.

"Yes. But I don't see any body." He leaned forward. "And that means I can't confirm if Ripley did in fact do the job I requested of him."

"That bastard played me, he deserves his damn payment." I met his red glare with my own silver eyes. "I saw her Implant roll out of her corpse."

Skeleton gave an amused chuckle. "Oh shit, you're not lying."

"There were enough witnesses to confirm, why ask me?"

"To see if you hate Ripley enough to spite him." Skeleton tapped the desk. "But I guess you're not a monster to condemn his mother to such a fate, I'll give him his payment."

He lounged comfortably as I looked back at Omen with accusation in my stare and voice. "And what about the Bladedaughter?"

Omen flicked his gaze over to Skeleton, as though they were deciding which of them would speak first. Skeleton shrugged, snapping his fingers. From the floor beneath my feet, a hand rose through it as though it was swimming through the ground. I took a step back, my eyes opening wide as a woman with a featureless white mask rose through the ground, an advanced suit covering all inch of skin except her torn throat.

She was a corpse. Worse, I could feel that she was a MAL.

"Two-minutes-fifteen-seconds." Skeleton clapped his hands. "That's how long I took to dispose of her."

Omen flicked a screen to me, as I saw the Bladedaughter stumbling to the border of the prison, where the building-sized Aerodyne had crashed. There were three faceless soldiers standing amongst the rubble, and then… they morphed. In seconds, they turned inhuman as false MALignants, their suits perfectly adjusted to capitalize on their encoded Mutations raised to life by a crimson-veined BUG. When I'd seen Kendrick Rorsche in such a state, it was almost pitiful to think a human could become that.

But right now, I saw as each once-human form transformed into monstrosities shaped by ingenious minds and technology. One woman with spikes for a head and whips for an arm gracefully combatted the Bladedaughter with skill and poise I'd never thought a MAL could have. Another man, with grenade launchers in his face, was a bastion of force and destruction. The third, a serpentine creature of coiled muscle and floating alloy split apart into threads and coiled around the Bladedaughter, her blades unable to cut apart as they phased through her attacks.

I looked back at the woman who rose from the ground. Was that thing her?

"The Cadavers." Skeleton declared with pride. "Humanity's next generation of soldiers, a true capitalization on the power wielded by the legacy left by humankind that provides a new path forward."

"How?" I gritted. These Cadavers were a step above what even Soul Killer could make using Soul-Death. I saw as they dismantled Bladedaughter with brutal efficiency, each of them maximising the potential of the others as they coordinated and tore her to pieces.

"I'm not eager to share my manufacturing secrets. It's just… I'm the only one who can make them, and control them. Be glad that I'm willing to share such a creation for the betterment of mankind." Skeleton said with a false humbleness. "But you likely have some ideas for the resources required."

"Soul Killer's Mutations." I gritted. "You take their power and use it for your own methods, you have been… since Juliet. Since you stole the data she had on curing them."

"And it appears like you and Ripley have also found your own way to cure their infection." Skeleton grinned. "I only need the Nexi, you can cure all the lessers. Rest assured, ASK will do exactly what it was made for. You'll have jurisdiction to mould the unit into whatever you need to get the job done."

"So you can collect their bodies… for what? A Soul Poison against the Titanium Host, or are you using them to control these things?" I wanted answers.

He gave none. "My purposes are my own, as are yours. But… are you saying you won't kill them?"

"That's not what I'm…" I didn't like this position I was being put in. "Soul Killer's now known to the public, The Bladefather made sure of that."

"Something I was sincerely hoping he wouldn't. I didn't quite need The Revenant as a public menace… just yet." Skeleton admitted. "The old man did a lot of unexpected things. As much as I claim to have control, I know somethings inevitably will slip out from my hands. He was too sharp for me to properly hold, his children on the other hand…? War-Watcher was always the spurned son, and he died so unceremoniously for a man that eagerly orchestrated this charade. You'd be surprised to know, actually, that the one who wanted it the least — yet rose above them all to lead them — was the Bladedaughter."

I didn't care who or what their intentions were, only what happened. "And yeah, about her, what are we going to do?"

Skeleton turned back to the faceless woman, speaking clearly. "Slipstream, bring her out."

The woman slipped down the floor, and seconds later, a head connected to a torso came up with her. The Bladedaughter rolled across the floor, completely disarmed and yet she radiated with a crazed atmosphere of sharpness. I could sense the Mutations that had buried inside her, the way her flesh seemed to beg to release itself.

"You kept her here?" I said in disbelief.

Skeleton shrugged. "I like my queen to be as close to me as possible."

"Oh, Mikail…" The Bladedaughter slurred, exhaustion heavy in her limbless form. "You have such a romantic way with words."

She spat from her mouth, the spit launched with a force that made his head roll back and there was a clear dent on his cheekbone. "She's such a harsh mistress."

He stood up, taking a subtle glance at the faceless woman named Splitstream as her hands split apart and stream out into ribbons of pale thread that wrapped around the Bladedaughter's form to bind her even tighter. She struggled in her dismembered and trapped form as he approached like a growing shadow, his skeletal fingers morphing to procure a sharp rod.

With delicate care, he lifted the Bladedaughter's chin up to look into his crimson eyes. "You see, the beautiful thing about romance, is how we're willing to change for the other. How we don't even notice it. And how… tantalizing it is to know you have that control when you do notice."

The rod slipped up her nose, and then I heard the sound of something breaking and crunching as he drilled the rod further in — up to her brain. He twisted the rod back and forth as she sputtered and gasped in his hold.

"Are you… lobotomizing her?" I shuddered.

"It'll only last a few hours, she inherited quite the locus of Regenerative Mutations. And that's just a bonus to my real goal." He pulled the rod out, in it's hollowness was filled with flesh straight from her brain. Like an impatient child, he dropped it into a vial and looked at it with love. "I can't wait to see what I'll make from this."

The Bladedaugter slurred as she dropped down, let go by Slipsteam, she mumbled incoherently. "Sis… if the bad man comes again… I'll pwotect youuu."

"I'm sure you will, dear." Skeleton ruffled her hair, but it didn't seem tender, it was possessive in nature. He stood back up, nodding to Slipstream who dragged her back down the concrete stone as all that remained of her position on the floor was blood and… tears.

I wasn't sure what to feel at this moment. "So you'll… harvest her? Why not kill her and be done with it?"

"Like it or not, she was made to be a vessel of the Bladefather's Implants. It's an investment, she'll likely be even stronger than he was by the time she gets accustomed to it — by then, I intend to wield her as my blade. For the safety of your city, of course." Skeleton didn't hold any sympathy in his voice. "And Muramasa's remnants remain, as long as rumors circulate that the First Princess is in my care, they'll come to me."

I held my breath, unwilling to betray to him my deepest thoughts, especially since they tended to conduct so easily in my environment now. "So what… you won?"

"The first of many, harder battles are sure to come." He sat back in his chair lazily. "I need to properly deal with The Revenant soon, then Emizren and The Iron Devil, at least Topaz is done for… that'll send his brother crying away. Ripley will probably screw himself over. Then the Swarm, and then The Founders."

He clapped his hands. "I'll win it all. The question is… whose side will you be on?"

He extended his hand to me. "Your answer determines whether you rise or fall."

"What will you make this city into?" I questioned him.

"Paradise City incarnate." He opened his palm further. "No matter the sacrifices."

Looking over the hand, I hated myself as I let my own hand rise and clasped it's gloved fingers to shake his. In that brief moment of contact, I finally felt a resonance from him — his ambition. It was vaster than the oceans, as hot as the sun, a hurricane that drew in whatever he required, and as formidable as a mountain, a man who'd shift the stars if he needed to do, yet remained shrouded in the darkness of the abyss.

Mr. Skeleton. The man who won it all.

———

7:33 PM

It was nice being back at home, I desperately needed something to relieve me of all that I knew now and my bed was the perfect tool. But just as my head landed on my pillow, I flicked my gaze at my wardrobe. "How long… have you been hiding there?"

"About two days." Dryder kicked the door open, bottle of alcohol in hand. He paused as he appraised me, eyepatch and silver hand in all. "Woah, did you kill-"

"No, Dreadwire's alive." I sat up. "Give me the bottle."

He tossed it over, and I drank it up like it was water. "I let him go, even though he… did all the things that I hate."

"Care to ask why?" He plopped down on the bed next to me.

"Didn't want to orphan another kid." I didn't want to explain everything, I just wanted to hope that I made the right decision.

"Mean that little fairy thing?" He asked, and I nodded. His reaction to it was surprising. "She's cute, always wanted a daughter myself."

"With…" I motioned with my eyes to ask if it was fine.

His eyes darkened, shifting down. "Annie… she's alive. Still doesn't remember me."

"It worked?" I held my breath.

"Crimson Heart took over to… influence things. She's weird. We escaped, our vehicle was the only one that didn't get hit. Had The Bladefather's corpse with us and that Quartz kid, too, but he left soon after."

"To where?"

"I don't know." Dryder shrugged.

I drank a deeper gulp. "I made a deal with Skeleton today. Bastard actually made some good points."

"You intend on keeping your word to Skeleton?" Dryder fluffed up a pillow for himself as he sat his ass on my bed.

I looked up to the ceiling, and shook my head. "Fuck no."

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