Paranormal Link - 33
When we first met, I thought he was a man just like me. A guy teetering on the edge of madness, stopping just short of the line—one foot over it, the other still clinging to the last shreds of sanity, walking that tightrope. Something that could kill without a second thought. If you asked why I felt that way, I couldn't give a rational or logical answer. It just felt like looking in a mirror. Smiling face and emotionless face. Silence and chatter. Cutting-edge and outdated. Woman and man. Everything was opposite, but the essence felt the same—like a reflection.
And that meant he was a very dangerous man.
That impression shifted a bit once I learned about his relationship with Blanca. "I won't teach non-humans." "I don't see humanity in others." I didn't believe those few words. No, you'd cross that line with just a little push. I can tell because we're the same. That's what I thought.
So I gave him an excuse. Sure, testing his skills wasn't a total lie. Push him into a corner, and I'd see his true face. Eyes gleaming with menace. That dull training blade suddenly felt razor-sharp. Aura prickling my artificial skin, copied from human senses without the real thing. Reflexes kicking in from neural accelerators. And yet, he stopped the blade short of her neck. True to his word—no blood. Dangerous, still on the line, but this man wouldn't cross it. My assumption was wrong. If he were like me, he'd have stabbed me right then. In reality, I'd held back hard from sticking a blade in him.
Staring into those unyielding eyes up close, I realized it. Mirrors reflect the same, but they move in reverse.
And now. Everything I'd thought was proven wrong. This man wasn't a mirror. The one I thought couldn't smile was smiling. His precarious sway between blades looked, bizarrely, like a dance. The sword in his hand swam through the air—not too slow, not too fast. Too short for a man's sword, too long for a dagger. At first, I thought he'd missed. Failed to parry amid the chaos. But the robot arm that grazed his blade got sucked in, whipping toward another bot's chest.
That shaky, unstable swordplay—like a dance—continued, precarious and unnerving. At the start, it was just a wobbly line, the blades piercing each other seeming pure chance. Maybe too focused? A blade from his blind spot lunged for his throat. Next instant, his sturdy old implant blocked it, turning crisis into shift. Something changed—highly refined technique I couldn't grasp. Jerky motions smoothed, broken lines connected into flow. From then, it unfolded like a polished performance. Dramatic, even.
Silver lines formed streams. Incoming blades touched the flow. As if choreographed, they bent paths, stabbing each other. From tip, from edge—naturalist that he was, one slip meant death—yet he swung without hesitation, smiling.
"Ahh..."
Something I'd desperately held back slipped away. Eyes locked on the scene, everything else faded.
With him, I clearly realized. He wasn't a mirror. He was a window to a beautiful landscape I could never reach.
Blade pierced metal, sparks flew. Metal shavings scattered with them. Silver streams danced through. Viciously beautiful.
The dance ended. Amid fallen extras, only Isan stood. Show over. The audience, forgetting to breathe, exhaled in unison.
"Hoo...! Hah...!"
Exhausted, gonna drop dead. My qi was down to a handful when the last two bots scrapped each other nicely. A bit more inner power, and I'd have been diced mid-air, helpless scrap in the container. Horrible thought, but no qi left even for shivers—just stood there.
Glanced at the ruined building: stunned crowd. Scavengers, mercs, neighbor girl, Blanca. Wanted to say "good show?" but they didn't shoot while "supporting"—good enough. Seeing idiots with pistols or shovels, yeah.
Eye contact. The woman with eerily calm eyes approached with Blanca.
"Whoa... what the hell did you do?"
"Escape Fate Blade Art."
"I know that, but... really? That did that?"
Blanca, dazed like dreaming, still wore her "unfinished" gloves. Nodded at them.
"Unfinished, huh?"
"Oh, figured I needed protection too. Couldn't just stand there in the chaos, right? Should be fine like this."
"Shoulder dislocation level?"
"...Not sounding fine."
Dislocation's easy fix for me, but for a non-martial regular, recovery drags. Plus, Lopez couple's request fails if cargo—er, protectee—gets hurt.
"Anyway, it's over. ...What the hell are these?"
Nudged a scrapped murder puppet with my foot. Too busy slashing earlier for questions, but where'd this army come from? No evil AI in scrapyard depths plotting robot revenge, right? Cliché headache.
"Hey, overheard those guys earlier. They dug up a container, and these burst out, attacking. Blocked escape like herding us here."
"...Rumors of dumped cyberware drew 'em digging, and hilariously, these were buried?"
"...Look at the robot arms."
Her tension eased, she pointed at a downed bot's left arm.
"Seen it somewhere."
Yeah, we knew that arm. Bought from scavengers last night.
"Fucking suspicious. No coincidence?"
"Unless you're a techdoc or merc engineer, can't tell from outside. Someone set this up on purpose?"
"So someone released these here deliberately?"
Blanca's question—that moment. Neighbor girl noticed first, probably. Then me. Close call. Some sharp mercs in back yelled late.
Too late, assholes...
Shadow fell over me. Clang!
"Ngh...!"
Scraped up qi, but dantian just ached—no real power. Deflected trajectory, but recoil tore my grip, blood spraying. Pain tingling up my hand, eyed the foe.
Murder puppet, one leg gone. The one I sliced early. Yeah... you.
Camera-eye met mine. Felt gross. Am I nuts, or crisis haze? That inorganic lens bugged me.
Instead of my dropped blade, its left-hand sword thrust. Cut in melee? Or it ripped it? No qi left anyway.
"Shit...!"
Neighbor girl froze behind, staring at arms—blades jammed? Panicked rare for her. Arms on strike, or mind? Useless either way.
Last resort: clamped blade with three fingers.
Screeech!
Sparks flew; its blade overpowered, inching to my neck. Deflected one swung back. This way, stabbed one side, sliced other—neck steak.
"Stay still!"
"...!!"
Blanca lunged beside me. Stepping familiar pattern, punched. Steel fist jammed between me and bot.
BOOM!! Impact exploded, shockwave slapping my face.