Meta Fuse

My eyelids were peeled back, exposing raw veins of fleshy inner lining. The folded flesh was stapled to my brow and cheeks, providing the masked men as much room as possible -  I was at their mercy. I felt my eyeballs sliding out from their sockets; detaching me from seeing this ghastly horror. However, I wasn’t that lucky.

Instead, serrated needles pierced the tendrils behind my eyes, clawing at the interwoven fibres until they sliced into the back of my iris. I was left half-dead, blinded with the jagged needle edges left sticking out from my eyeballs.

The lead figure adjusted a dial, unleashing a static electrical pulse that vibrated off all the metallic instruments bolted into me, pin-balling from rung to rod until its charge serrated the needles’ edges in my eyes. My brain struggled to process the onslaught, and before long, consciousness slipped away. In a matter of seconds, I flatlined.

An explosion, followed by reckless commotion jolted me back into existence. I found myself unbound from the menacing contraptions, lying on a hospital bed in an unfamiliar wing. Yet one thing still disturbed me. I moved my hands to my eyes, trembling with apprehension as I reached for them. As I touched my eyes, I felt a strange sensation—a ghostly pierce that sent shivers down my spine. However, to my relief, they were gone.

Then suddenly, my lenses began to reconfigure, sensored by the touch, as my optics rebooted.  I experienced a sudden jolt, followed by a brief blackout, before my vision returned with newfound clarity. But something was very different.

My cybernetically enhanced optics allowed me to perceive the world in a whole new way. I could sense kinetic reboots coursing through my nervous system, granting me a heightened awareness of my surroundings. In simpler terms, I had become something more than human.

As I surveyed the room, my enhanced vision detected an anomaly. On the counter beside the door, knelt atop the sodden bedpan brimming with blood, a switchblade was located. Despite its menacing appearance, the identification system labelled it as a Class B threat. I couldn't help but chuckle at the irony—given the sophisticated technology at my disposal, classifying a simple switchblade as a high-level threat seemed rather generous.

I whirled the blade in my palm as I traipsed down the hall, flailing my half-naked body in cautious anticipation. The walls shifted and spun around me, my optics struggling to process each new detail I encountered. Iridescent stained glass windows lined the corridors, leaving no trace or sentient fragment of humanity behind.

With each step, I felt the crunch of broken glass beneath my bare feet, the sharp shards digging into my flesh. Pain shot through me as the glass sliced into my skin, leaving bloody footprints in my wake. I winced with each hobbling step, my foot throbbing with each jagged fracture it encountered.

I pressed on, hoping to reach the end of this endless maze. Empty bullet casings littered the ground, a grim reminder of the chaos that had unfolded here. Despite the pain and disorientation, I pushed forward, determined to break free from this nightmarish reality.

“Come on, nearly there.” my optics clouding with each word I muttered.

I could almost taste freedom when,

SNAP.

A bitter, stubborn edge cradled at the crevice of the wound, smirking at my escape. Just when all hope was lost, a hammering of footsteps appeared at the cusp of the adjoining hallway ahead. The stranger, dishevelled and distraught, noticed me. Without a word, we exchanged wary glances, both prisoners of circumstance. Equipped in smoky, almost second-hand garbs, her face ashen with blood and dirt, she clutched something at her hip.

“Hey,” my weary voice broke the silence.

I raised my hands, now slick with my own blood, calling out to the stranger. Yet, to my surprise, the woman mirrored my action. However, a crucial difference emerged; she held an oddly asymmetrical sub-machine gun, its barrel trained on me. Her gaze twitched frantically, unable to contain her fright.

“Whoa, hey. I’m not here to start trouble. I just…”

The gun cocked, ejecting an empty casing, her face intent on discussing this another way. I withdrew the switchblade, keeping it hidden. My optics registered a peculiar reading, categorising her weapon as Class C. However, the threat it posed seemed more imminent to the wielder—me. My blade flashed on the screen; ‘Imminent Use. Threat Advised. Reactive Deployment Automatic.’ I was expressionless, unable to comprehend all this.

While lost in thought, I observed a flash in the stranger's eye, followed by a cyclical panel winding around her optics. Alarmed and terrified, I froze in horror. Her SMG dialled up, syncing with her optics, emitting a mechanical whirr as a cyberkinetic wave surged into the gun. I tried to limp away but found myself immobilized by a kinetic force from the blade, which remained bound to my hand. A similar configuration sparked my optics into frenzy. The SMG began firing, but then it fragmented into an array of identical yet targeted weapons. Now confronted with multiple SMGs, I felt defeat looming once again.

Bullets rained down on me like a relentless onslaught, with spitfires of casings shattering the adjacent glass panels. Just as the bullets neared me, I closed my eyes in terror. Then, I heard a sharp whip followed by the distinct sound of a sword being drawn. Peering through a wicked glare, my puny switchblade had amalgamated with my kinergy into a glowing neon sword, lined with radiating hexes of inscriptions. The blade conjoined with my palm and threw me aside, effortlessly evading the shots. With fluid movements, it deflected and sliced through the bullets with ease. Panic quickly overcame the stranger as smoke trailing from the barrels of her guns, her movements becoming erratic.

My optics locked on the target ahead focusing on the source. Forcing me to turn, it was time to end this tango. I expelled the blade outward, darting its gaze on the stranger. A swift cleave and all the guns dropped, rattling as it crawled back together. I persevered forward, retrieving my sword from beside the stump transfixed amongst the debris catering the path.

Reaching the crossroads, I glanced at the blade whizzing in my hand, when suddenly, a blast took me off my feet. Deflected by my sword, I quickly regained my footing, only to discover another paranoid patient, this time brandishing a different weapon.

The man fired his weaponry, spewing pellets of hatred and fear my way. My blade twirled around me, slashing away the projectiles. However, I was caught off guard when a hulking bull shot out from the end of his gun, charging in my direction.

I was entranced by the bull, unable to regain my blade, which was now spinning back to me in haste.

In the chaos of the hallway, a stray grenade-like orb wisped through the air, sealing off my escape route. My sword flew within reach, but the charging bull drew closer with each thunderous step. Then, a device shot out from the orb, snaring me and anchoring me to the nearby wall just in time to evade the bull's devastating charge. The impact sent the beast crashing into the wall, engulfing us in a cloud of orange powder and debris.

As the dust settled, my blade retracted, freeing me from the wall. I landed gracefully, poised for whatever came next. The man dropped his weapon, his eyes wide with fear as he glanced past me. I followed his gaze, my heart pounding as I saw the masked figure emerging from the haze.

The masked man wielded an incredible, RPG-like instrument, its power evident in the way it loomed ominously in his hands. My optics assessed it as an A-tier threat, sending blaring danger messages that echoed through my mind. The man behind me whimpered, his fear palpable in the air.

Without hesitation, my blade ignited into a swirling barrier around me, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it might not be enough. The masked figure smirked, pulling the trigger on the instrument.