But no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t throw up—because there was nothing left in his stomach. In an empty stomach, only pain echoes. He brought his trembling hand to his mouth and wiped the bitter spit from the corner of his cracked lips.
“I’ve definitely been poisoned…” he whispered hoarsely.
His left arm throbbed in rhythm with his pulse. He needed to stay awake. He had to make a plan. But his body had no strength left to resist. He pulled his knees to his chest and leaned his back against the cold concrete wall. His eyes stared blankly at the wall across from him, as if the answer was there…
“ION.”
The silence of the nano-machine he called began to disturb him. He began rummaging through his bag. Every item his fingers touched only deepened his despair. All the gel packs were gone. Nothing left but trash.
He stood up and staggered toward the bathroom. He turned on the faucet, but only a dry ‘click’ came out. Even the water had given up in this building.
Just then, a familiar voice echoed in his mind:
“Nanite production is complete. Current operational nanite count: 162,643.”
For the first time, Raven was glad to hear that voice. His throat tightened, but no tears came. 162,643. The current number of nanites circulating in his body. Was that a lot? Too little? He had no idea. Hanging between life and death, numbers like that lost their meaning.
“Current power level is three percent. Please eat something, Raven.”
“If I go outside, I’ll get caught. Don’t you have a power-saving mode or something? Like those old phones?” Raven said, sliding down to sit against the wall.
There was a moment of silence.
“There’s a market right next to the building you’re in. You can quickly grab something.”
Raven moved to the window. The glass was covered with rusted iron plates to block the chaotic light from outside. But through the gaps, he could still see the street. Crowded… Chaotic. People in gray coats moved like shadows beneath neon-lit signs. Any one of them could be a threat.
“It’s way too crowded out there. I wouldn’t even notice those psychos creeping up on me. I don’t have the strength to run anymore. My power level is three percent too.…”
ION stayed silent again. As if processing. As if thinking. Then its voice returned:
“My scanning systems are currently operating at fourteen percent efficiency. I analyzed the walking speeds and facial features of Rustjaw members during chases. With the data I’ve collected and my sensors, I can identify them before they reach you. I can also scan the crowd outside before you step out.”
Fourteen percent? That was low. It didn’t sound reassuring. But he had no other choice. The room was a tomb between death and starvation. Hesitantly, he stood up. Slowly walked to the door.
He went down to the ground floor. The door was jammed. It groaned open with a screech of metal. He just poked his head out and looked left.
“Scanning initiated… No threats detected. Please turn to your right.”
He turned his head right.
“Scanning initiated… No threats detected. You may go now, Raven. But hurry.”
He paused for a few seconds before stepping out. Gave the crowd a quick glance. His eyes scanned every face rapidly, but nothing stuck in his mind. It still didn’t make sense how ION could do this so fast. Still, he forced his body to move. He dashed to the adjacent building and entered the market on the lower floor.
He headed straight for the cabinet on the left. The shelves were nearly empty, but he managed to find a few nutrient gel packs. He grabbed five or six, along with bottles labeled “Water” that resembled gelatinous fluid more than actual liquid.
There was a small line at the checkout. His breathing quickened as he waited, eyes fixed on the door.
“Grab some of the orange-packaged ‘thing’ next to the register. The chemicals in it should help with your nausea.”
Raven turned his eyes there. On the shelf were packages with an ugly, grinning half-robot monkey on them… Monkey Chocolates. The slogan underneath in bold letters: “Contains 0.00005% Cocoa!” As if that was something to be proud of…
When it was his turn, he quickly grabbed a few packets. After paying, he stormed out of the market. With the last remnants of his strength, he returned to the building, climbed the stairs two at a time to the second floor. When he shut the door behind him, his knees nearly gave out. He collapsed backward onto his bag.
With trembling fingers, he tried to open the chocolate package.
“Eat something first. If you eat that ‘thing’ on an empty stomach, the nausea will get worse.” said ION, its voice more serious and firm this time. The fact that it used the word ‘thing’ again was unsettling.
Raven listened to ION. He quickly downed a few gel packs. The taste was dull, with a metallic aftertaste. Then he drank the thick liquid, pretending it was water. At first, he thought it brought relief—but his stomach protested the mixture violently.
“I’ll reduce your nausea. Now eat one pack of that ‘thing’.”
Raven took the package again. Made eye contact with the monkey mascot. His instincts told him this would taste worse than licking a battery. But he no longer had the strength to act on instinct.
Clenching his jaw, he opened the chocolate and threw it into his mouth in one bite. The taste was somewhere between plastic and chemicals. There was a faint sweetness, but still… After a while, the dizziness eased, and the nausea slowly withdrew. Raven sat on the floor, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Too exhausted to think. But he was still alive.
“How many nanites did you say you had, ION?”” he asked, staring at the ceiling without blinking. His voice was tired but held a trace of curiosity.
“162,643, Raven. 69,862 new nanites have been produced.” ION’s voice echoed in his mind.
Raven kept staring at the ceiling. Thinking only about the weight of the numbers. He had licked the battery so many times that his tongue still tasted like rust.
“Okay, and how many do you need to actually do something useful?” he asked, frowning. The number had sounded high, but something felt off—instinctively, he knew it wasn’t enough.
“Approximately 100 million. However, there’s no strict limit. The more nanites I have, the more effective I become.”
There was a moment of silence. Raven tried to picture the number in his head, but all he saw were endless zeros crashing into each other. Then, he slowly raised his unbroken left hand and began moving his fingers one by one, trying to make a rough calculation. After a while, his fingers froze mid-air. Then he smacked his forehead with a loud slap.
“What! I gotta lick 500 more goddamn batteries?!”
“1,439.”
Raven frowned. He started counting again, this time more carefully. But before he finished, he dropped his hand and rolled his eyes.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“I missed a zero. Still, that’s way too damn much! You promised me a bionic arm after I licked the battery!”
“I did not make such a promise, Raven.”
“Yes, you did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“Shut up, Raven.”
“What did you just say?!”
“I said I didn’t.”
Raven pressed his lips together but eventually gave up against ION’s firm and emotionless tone. He knew pushing further was pointless. He wasn't smart enough to fool an AI. With a deep sigh, he shifted his position.
“So what can you do now? Got any new protocols unlocked? Can I shoot freaking lasers out of my eyes yet? There has to be some payoff to battery-licking, right?!”
ION paused for a moment. Then its mechanical, decisive voice echoed in his mind. It spoke like a command terminal flooding with lines of output:
”[MRS-09] Molecular Restoration System, [CQC-11] Close Quarters Combat Support Module, [MSS-14] Multi-Spectrum Scanning System, [NRC-15] Neurochemical Regulator, [EXI-01] Exoskeleton Interface, [TAM-18] Tactical Analysis Module, [BES-07] Bio-Energy Synthesizer, [BEC-07] Bio-Energy Converter, [PSA-02X] Psycho-Social Analysis Module (Experimental Prototype), [MAP-08] Myralite Purification Protocol, [CEM-17] Closed Environment Echo-Mapping Module. Want me to keep going?”
Despite its mechanical nature, ION’s voice had taken on a faintly smug tone. Raven’s facial muscles twitched. He wanted to say “Keep going, smartass!” but he didn’t. He hadn’t understood a single system name. What he really wanted to know was: what could any of those actually do in the field?
“Don’t worry. I’ll explain what each critical system does later. For now, focus. Open the bag you got from Drail’s shop.”
Raven slowly sat up and pulled the heavy, metal-coated bag toward him. As he opened the lid, a wave of rust and decay washed over him—the scent of broken devices, tangled wires, scattered metal parts and some of Raven's stuff. Most of the components were old, but they still held potential.
ION’s first command was clear. Raven pulled out the shock baton in the corner and the iron rod with a thick terminal at one end. Both were rusted and nonfunctional. The tip of the iron rod was scorched—it was once a high-voltage weapon on contact, but now it was dead. The shock gun was also busted.
Under ION’s guidance, Raven dismantled both weapons. Their inner circuits were removed, micro-batteries extracted, and set aside carefully. Then came the Combat Glove. It was light and flimsy. But with ION’s step-by-step instructions, the glove’s circuits were exposed, metal plates reshaped, and components from the broken weapons carefully integrated. Now, the glove has become something entirely different. The wires on its surface pulsed faintly, and the power modules embedded in it radiated a gentle heat.
Next, Raven pulled out three long, cable-wrapped blades. Their surfaces had dulled over time, making them look like ordinary melee weapons—but they weren’t. These were Thermo-Plasma Cutters, designed to bypass Active Defense Surfaces. On the streets, they were known as Riftblades. They gave their users a deadly edge against enemies protected by Active Defense Surfaces.
All three Riftblades were malfunctioning. Raven flipped them over and inspected them. Their energy cells were weak, thermo-gels leaking. But ION didn’t intend for Raven to wield them directly. Once again, they were disassembled and integrated into the glove. The thermo-gel circuits were connected to voltage amplifiers scavenged from earlier parts.
Now, the glove wasn’t just pulsing with energy. It was dangerous.
“You can now bypass your enemy’s Active Defense Surface with the glove. With the current-voltage amplifiers we added, you can deliver lethal shocks. It’s time to eliminate the Rustjaw gang.”
Raven paused, frozen mid-movement. He took a breath.
“Hell yeah, man— I’m gonna wreck those fuckers with my goddamn Super Punchinator…”
He stopped cold. Froze.
“Wait — WHAT?! Take out the Rustjaw gang?! Fuck that! Those bastards run the whole damn city!”
ION responded immediately. Its voice was calm, firm, and chilling.
“I am a nanomachine designed for the elite special forces of the most powerful nation on Earth, Raven. With your mercenary background and my support, neutralizing a gang is child’s play. My analyses confirm this.”
Raven wanted to argue—but he also knew that as long as the Rustjaw gang existed, he wasn’t leaving this city. He clenched his jaw. The truth was hard to swallow, but undeniable.
“What’s the plan?” he asked. His voice was unsure, but a flicker of resolve had started to burn behind his eyes.
ION’s voice grew slightly more serious, with a corrective tone.
“First of all… ‘Super Punchinator’ is a terrible name. Power Glove is more appropriate.”
“Super Punchinator is a badass name. And more importantly, it’s mine! I made it! I name it! Now stop stalling and tell me the plan tin-head.”
“System data on Raven Karr has been updated.” said ION. Then its voice resumed.
“First step…”
ION // SYSTEM FEEDBACK — [Session: 007 | Operator: Raven Karr]
Interface: ION_v4.6.1_β // Connection Stable [?]
[?] [MRS-09] Molecular Restoration System
- Operational Efficiency: 10.4% (↑2.2%)
- Primary Function:
→ Facilitates tissue regeneration via nano-scale biosynthetic repair protocols
→ Applies localized reconstruction on muscle, epidermal, and limited neural tissues
→ Simulates auto-fibrin production and coagulation to suppress superficial bleeding
→ Engages limited immunosuppression to minimize infection risk
- Critical Limitation:
→ In cases of major tissue disruption or internal organ trauma, system enters “Hemostatic Mode”
→ Prioritizes active hemorrhage control; regeneration rate significantly reduced
→ If operational load exceeds 60%, system may enter temporary shutdown
[?] [MSS-14] Multi-Spectrum Scanning System
- Operational Efficiency: 14.0% (↑2.9%)
- Primary Function:
→ Detects Myralite density fluctuations
→ Identifies biological threats and contaminants
→ Locates electronic traps and signal irregularities
- Critical Limitation:
→ Available Maximum range: 1 km
→ Operates at 4.3% efficiency in passive scan mode
System Notice: Stated efficiency percentages apply only under conditions of full, synchronized nanite allocation to each individual module. Partial or multi-tasking deployments may result in fluctuating efficiency levels.
Raven // BODYCHECK
→ Gear:
? Garbage again. Covered in blood, dust, rips and despair. No style, no protection.
→ Weapon:
? Left Hook of God? (Who the hell in 2189 still trusts their goddamn wrist? We’ve got the fucking Super Punchinator, for fuck’s sake!)
? Combat Knife [Model: M-12] (Worn grip. Still cuts like betrayal.)
? Super Punchinator [Left] (Homemade death. It looks ridiculous. I don't want to comment on the name, but listen! It's throwing electricity and penetrating the Active Defense Surfaces!)
→ Additions:
? Bad vibes (like Monkey Chocolates.)
? Stolen e-Wallet – Balance : 3038 [↓550] (He paid 50 credits for that chocolate bar with the scary monkey mascot!)
? Stylish Black Bag (It's absolutely cursed but it's got some good stuff in it, dude!)
? VX-21 Commlink (Spoiler: No one will call.)
? Packaged Rations (Technically food. Realistically? Packaged vomit with a label. But better than Monkey Chocolates.)
? Bottles labeled “Water” (Not water. Gelled hydrogen and oxygen. Probably...)
? Monkey Chocolates (Illegal in 9 sectors. Should be in all of them. I'm a bit scared of monkeys because of this 'thing'.)