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Another rattling cough shook Zera's body, and she shivered, the thin sheet of fabric covering most of her prone form doing little to stave off the cold that seemed to reach down to her very bones. The dragoness pulled her wings tighter over herself underneath the blanket, which helped just a little.

Marcus' face was awash with poorly hidden concern. “You look like shit," he remarked.

“Thanks," she mumbled dryly, her voice hoarse and uneven.

That at least coaxed a smirk from the human. “Seriously. I mean it. You're way worse than you were yesterday."

Zera looked up at him from the couch, her lengthy form curled in on itself protectively. She'd barely left this spot for days, still fighting off the sickness that had taken hold two nights ago- a sickness that seemed persistently unwilling to release its grip on her. Her limbs ached and she felt cold, with a throat raw from coughing and constant wetness leaking from her nostrils. Most of all, the dragoness was incredibly tired, yet she had struggled to get more than a few hours of broken, feverish sleep last night.

Truth be told, she felt awful.

“I'm alright," Zera lied. “Just -sniff- give it a few more days."

The soft touch of Marcus' palm pressed lightly against her forehead, just below the space between her horns. She closed her eyes as he left it there for a moment.

“You're burnin' up."

Zera frowned as he withdrew. “Feels like I'm freezing…"

“I know." Marcus moved to sit on the arm of the couch beside her, placing his hand on her shoulder and rubbing gently with his thumb. “I don't like this. I don't know what the fuck's eatin' you, but you look like you should be in a hospital right now." The human sighed. “Too bad that ain't an option."

“It's just a fever, Marcus… nothing I haven't weathered befo-"

Her words were interrupted by more coughing, a great heaving fit that Zera couldn't seem to get under control, even as her lungs burned and her throat felt like it was on fire. The dragoness barely managed to suck in a few gasping breaths between the spasms, and it was maybe a minute or more before things finally calmed down again, leaving her exhausted and breathless once more.

At some point Marcus had risen to his feet, and when she blinked the tears from her eyes Zera saw his expression harden. She knew that look.

“Nope," he shook his head. “This is where I step in."

“Really, you don't need to-"

“I ain't givin' you a choice," Marcus shot back. “Almost three days now I've sat on my ass an' watched you get sicker, and I'm not gonna just sit here any longer. Especially since I've gotta head out tonight, and I'll be damned if I leave you alone in this state."

Zera had actually forgotten that he was going away again later. The dragoness didn't bother asking where or why; she'd learned by now that he would only give evasive answers to that sort of question, so there was little point in pushing him on it. Equally, she wanted to tell Marcus that she'd be fine on her own regardless, but right now she just couldn't find the strength to argue with him.

She watched the human disappear off around the corner, and let out a shuddering exhale. He'd offered to help when she first came down ill a few days ago- an offer Zera had declined, to Marcus' apparent surprise. The dragoness told him she simply didn't feel that unwell, and that she'd surely be fine again in no time, to which he had simply shrugged and acquiesced.

That had been a lie. Truthfully, Zera wanted to say yes. She imagined the Two-legs had likely invented some wondrous remedy that could cure all ailments, and knowing Marcus, he would have a supply of it stashed away in a box or cupboard somewhere.

But, some part of Zera couldn't accept his offer. All of this, everything he kept doing for her… it was just too much kindness.

In this strange new world she found herself in, Zera was even more reliant on Marcus than she had been on her late mother. Like a weak little hatchling, she could hardly do anything for herself. Couldn't eat without Marcus preparing her food, or drink without him helping her fetch water… Gods, she couldn't even go outside for fear of being seen by others, let alone take to the skies in flight!

So what sort of a dragon did that make her?

She sighed miserably.

That wasn't to say she wasn't grateful. Zera knew she'd almost certainly be dead without the human's help, and he'd done more for her than she ever deserved. But there was really only one thing Zera could offer Marcus in return, and she certainly hadn't been in any state for that recently. Right now, she just felt like a burden.

And she was tired of being a burden to the people she cared about.

Marcus returned soon enough, carrying with him an angular black object that was about the length of his palm, tapered slightly towards one end. She followed him with her eyes, not bothering to lift her head from the cushions.

“What is that?" Zera murmured.

He stepped towards her, crouching down and fiddling with the object in question.

“Medical scanner. Used to diagnose injuries, illnesses, that sort of thing. Tells you what's wrong." Marcus glanced up, regarding her for a moment. “Not sure it's gonna work on you, actually. But it's worth a shot."

Zera blinked. Another time she might have been taken aback by such an outlandish claim. As things stood, she just was too weary to care. She pulled the blanket tighter again.

“I told you… I'm fine. I don't need any of this."

The human levelled his gaze at her. “And I told you, I'm not givin' you a choice. C'mon, lift that off, I gotta get a blood sample."

“B-blood?"

“Just a little bit," he clarified, though that did little to reassure her. “You'll hardly even notice. Now, c'mon."

“…no."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “No?"

Zera pulled the blanket up over her snout, burying her muzzle in the soft fabric. “No."

“Alright. Hard way it is, then."

The blanket was violently pulled away before Zera could react, her paws grasping at nothing but air. She growled instinctively, though the sudden chill quickly reduced it to a pathetic whine, and she shivered again. The dragoness glared up at Marcus, who had tossed the blanket onto the floor behind him and was standing above her, giving her a look of pure exasperation.

She could only hold his gaze for a moment before she gave in, huffing in defeat and turning away to face the side of the couch. “Fine," she grumbled. “Just get it over with."

Marcus snorted amusedly. “There we go. Now give me one of your legs, an' hold still."

Zera hesitated briefly, then stretched out a long foreleg to the human, fighting down another shudder at the cold. She felt the soothing touch of his hand as he grasped her limb and moved the black device up and over it as if looking for something. She noticed what appeared to be a small viewing-screen on the back of the 'scanner', though as usual Zera could only guess at its purpose. She lay her snout back down on the cushion, breathing softly.

“W-what-" she stopped to clear her throat, “what are you doing?"

“Searchin' for a vein," Marcus replied, before letting out a quiet noise of satisfaction. “Got it."

A sudden click startled the dragoness, and she whirled her head back around, immediately regretting the wave of dizziness the rapid movement brought. When her vision came back into focus, Zera saw Marcus still holding the black device in one hand, from which now protruded a minutely thin metal point that glinted as it caught the light.

“Don't worry," Marcus said, patting her paw softly. “It's only a small needle. Big girl like you, you'll not even feel a thing."

She looked closely at the metal implement, then back up at Marcus. “You're going to… impale me with that?"

“Not the first time I've stuck somethin' in you."

Zera had to bite back an embarrassed laugh, fearful that she might fall into another fit of coughing otherwise. “Rrrr… alright. Do what you must."

With a nod, Marcus went to work, moving the needle until it was almost touching the scales of her foreleg. He brushed his thumb against the grain, and Zera felt an odd tugging sensation as the little plates were pushed slightly up and away from her skin.

“These things are damn tough," he murmured. “I think this'd just break if I tried to go straight through."

“Obviously. I did say you'd never pierce my scales with a blade…"

Marcus frowned. “Did you?"

“Mmm. When we first met."

That brought a brief smile to his face. “Huh. Can't say I remember. That night's all a blur to me."

His admission surprised Zera. She remembered every moment of that night in perfect clarity.

“Besides," he said, “what I can do is this."

As she watched, Marcus slid the tip of the needle just underneath her lifted scales, and a sharp pricking feeling let her know it had pierced the skin below. Zera hissed in discomfort.

“I did feel that," she complained.

Marcus grinned. “'Course you did. But if I told you it was gonna hurt, would you have let me do it?"

The dragoness sniffed quietly and glared at him.

“Okay, okay. I'll get on with it."

He pressed something on the device, and Zera felt a strange aching sensation at the point of entry. It only lasted for a brief moment before Marcus gently pulled back the needle, a small trickle of blood following it as it slipped out of her foreleg.

“See? Wasn't so hard, was it?"

Zera coughed a couple of times. “You're talking like my mother again."

“Hmm. Point taken."

She lifted her foreleg up to lick carefully at the small, stinging wound, and Marcus sat back, removing the needle from the device and setting it aside onto the table. He eyed the viewscreen, expression inscrutable. After a moment, a quiet chiming sound emitted from the black instrument.

“Alright, sample's good. Just gotta wait a few minutes for it to analyse. In the meantime…" He leaned back in her direction, hefting the device over Zera's body again. “Gonna do a few scans if that's alright. Should help narrow down what's wrong."

Too fed up to protest, Zera simply waved one paw idly at the human, indicating for him to proceed. Marcus swept the scanner back and forth over her body, occasionally stopping to let the machine do whatever it was doing. She paid him little mind as he worked. The sooner Marcus finished with all this, the sooner she could crawl back under a blanket and away from the chill that continued to eat away at her.

Eventually, he was done, and Marcus sat himself on one of the chairs nearby. He returned the blanket to her, and Zera eagerly curled up under it once again, cocooning herself in a shroud of warmth that brought at least some comfort back. Marcus claimed it could take some time for the device to work, and so they waited, lapsing into silence.

Zera's mind began to wander. Her eyelids were heavy with tiredness, yet she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep, so she instead cast her gaze slowly across her surroundings.

The same walls stared back at her. The same roof. The same furniture and decorations, pieces of impossible technology and arcane Two-leg machinery, and the same disconcertingly perfect shrub sitting nearby, taunting her with its unnaturally green leaves.

Nothing ever changed in this place. Despite the fever weighing her down, Zera's mind was restless. The feeling had crept up slowly, insidiously, and had been gnawing at her since well before the sickness struck. Every time she tried to push it away, it came back stronger, more insistent. It was a feeling she didn't even want to admit to herself, yet one that deep down she knew was rooted in a painful truth.

Zera didn't belong here.

Even after everything Marcus had given her, despite all the wonders and miracles this place contained, things for which she would never stop being grateful… she felt trapped.

She missed waking up under a canopy of leaves, listening to birdsong and the quiet rushing of a distant river. The scent of damp earth after the rains, the exhilaration of a successful hunt, and feeling the wind catching her wings as she leapt up and soared into the sky…

Those were idealised memories, of course. Zera would also never forget how close she'd come to death out there, how weak and desperate she'd been before making that final fateful flight to the City. But, even knowing all that, a part of her still longed for her old life.

She worried that if she spent too much longer in here, she might just go mad.

“All done!" Marcus spoke up, cutting across her miserable silence. “Now, lemme take a look..."

From her position on the couch, Zera saw the human's demeanour shift from his usual cool composure to confusion, then disbelief as he stared at the strange device. She felt a nervous flutter in her stomach.

“W-what's wrong?"

As quickly as it had come, that look was gone, and Marcus was calm once more. “Nothin', nothin'. Just… surprised, is all. According to this, you've got the flu. A bad one, clearly, but that's all." He chuckled softly, though it sounded forced. “An' here I was starting to worry."

Zera frowned. “What is flu?"

Realisation dawned on his face. “Oh. Right. Uh, it's a pretty common disease. Nothing serious. Although," the human rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “I suppose you've had no vaccines, immune boosters, anythin' really. Shit, it was probably me that gave it to ya'."

“…what?"

“I've got some antiviral shots lying around. Scanner's telling me they're safe to use on you, but you'll need two, on account of your size. Better to be safe, just in case-"

The dragoness growled irritably. “Marcus!"

He flinched, and his attention snapped back to her.

“You're. Not. Making. Sense."

Lowering her tone to a near growl hurt Zera's already painful throat, but she was now entirely out of patience, and the headache developing in her temples certainly wasn't helping.

Marcus looked uneasy for a moment, before his shoulders sagged and he sighed. “Sorry. Just thinkin' out loud. But I'm guessin' the last thing you want to do right now is listen to me yammer on," he said with a sheepish grin.

Zera couldn't muster up the energy to return it. She felt awfully warm now, and her stomach was starting to feel uneasy.

“Look, the gist of it is this: I've got some medicine that can treat ya'. Two small injections, even easier than the blood draw, and you should be back to normal in twelve hours or so. That sound good?"

She hesitated briefly, before nodding once.

“Great. Now, gimme a few mins to get it ready to go. Sit tight."

Marcus stood and moved towards the kitchen. After a moment, Zera threw off the blanket and stepped shakily off the couch, grumbling quietly as she did and fighting down a wave of nausea brought on by the movement.

The human looked back over his shoulder at her. “Hey, what are you doin'?"

When she began to slowly make her way across the room, drudging with all the energy she could muster, Marcus stepped into her path.

“Zera, I told ya' to wait there. I'll have this stuff ready soon. Just rest up, I really don't think you should be movin' about much right now."

“I'm going outside," she interjected, though the hoarseness of her voice dampened the impact somewhat. “I need some air."

Marcus frowned. “I can turn up the AC if you want. No need for you to go out."

Zera growled at him, her frustration reaching a boiling point. She easily shouldered past the human, who stumbled back out of the way, apparently unprepared for the force of her shove. “I'm not helpless, Marcus! And I didn't even ask for your help! I told you I could manage this on my own, but still you insist on treating me like a useless hatchling, unable to do even the simplest of things by myse-"

One again, the words caught in her throat, and Zera dissolved into another bout of coughing, hanging her head low and falling onto her rear as she struggled to catch her breath, throbbing pain stinging at her throat and chest with every barking exhalation.

A comforting hand pressed down between her shoulder blades, rubbing her hide softly, and when she finally could breathe properly again, she saw that Marcus had moved in to support her. Zera realised she had instinctively placed a wing around him without even noticing. Their eyes met before she quickly looked away, retracting her wing.

An uncomfortable silence hung over them for too long before she heard Marcus sigh, then stand up again.

“Zera, you've got nothin' to prove to me."

She blinked in surprise. The dragoness had expected some sort of rebuke, now fully conscious of and embarrassed about her pointless outburst. Zera found she could only manage a nod in response.

Marcus patted her on the shoulder a couple of times, before moving off. “Go get some fresh air."

Zera strode slowly over to the doorway leading outside. Opening it with a paw, she felt a wonderfully cool breeze play over her scales, making her feel a little better already.

“Oh, and Zera?"

“Mmm?"

The human offered her a small smile, though his eyes betrayed uncertainty.

“You can always ask for help, you know. I ain't gonna think any less of you."

She simply nodded again, and stepped outside.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The rush of cool night air buffeted Marcus' jacket as he leaned into the turn, descending the exit slip off the elevated highway and down towards the chaos of Horizon's middle district. Reaching the end of the spiralling ramp, he adjusted the smart grip on his tyres with the flick of a switch, and mentally plotted his path through the traffic ahead.

In contrast to the wide and fairly free-flowing highway that wound across and above the city, the dense streets below were thronged with people and cars, filling the air with a cacophony of noise and the choking emissions of a million combustion engines. Thankfully, his helmet came with a filter built-in, saving him from the worst of the foul air. But it could never quite eliminate it all.

Marcus' corneal implants, along with his helmet's polarised visor, stopped him from being totally blinded by the artificial light from an ocean of glowing advertisements. Garishly coloured billboards and blinking holograms filled almost every open space on the building fronts, with some even ascending up to cover entire skyscrapers, ensuring the latest corporate propaganda was broadcast to as many potential customers as possible.

The human ignored all of them as he weaved through traffic, edging around semi-trucks and slipping between adjacent cars with practised ease. The route to his destination was visible in the top right of his heads-up display, though Marcus knew this part of the city well enough that he could have made it most of the way there with no guidance at all. He wondered just how Zera had managed to make it through all this chaos by herself, with nothing but her wits and her wings.

There she was again. Invading his thoughts, even at a time like this.

He still felt uneasy about what happened earlier. Not regarding her bout of illness- it appeared Zera really did just have the flu, and the antivirals she'd reluctantly let him administer had quickly taken effect. She had spent the better part of the evening trying to explain the intricacies of flight to him -it was surprisingly complicated, evidently- and in truth, she seemed a lot better already, save for the occasional persistent coughing fit. Even her mood had improved.

What made him nervous was that the medical scanner had recognised her. Or rather, it recognised her species. DNA, anatomical scans, biomarker levels; every measurable parameter matched against the scanner's reference data for a species designated as Dragon.

Normally, that wouldn't have been surprising. Most medical devices worked off the same massive, shared database; a valuable resource to have in a city with such a diverse population, all with different biological needs. A healthy body temperature for a canid, for example, could be lethal in a reptilian, and there were quite a few medical conditions unique to specific species.

But Zera was a special case. Dragons were not a typical sight in Horizon- many people didn't even believe they were real, and only people who were very well informed knew for sure that not every so-called 'Feral' sighting was just another hoax. Marcus was both intrigued and worried about why exactly the city stored information on a species that didn't officially exist, so later in the afternoon he'd queried the public version of the database hosted on Horizon's network, looking for any clues.

He found nothing. Not a single entry even mentioned them. The public database was supposed to be an exact mirror of the one his scanner was linked to, so how could there be an entire species missing? And where, then, was the scanner getting its information from?

There was only one explanation that made any sense. Somebody was trying to hide something. It stank of a poor cover-up job; someone must have erased all the public records on Zera's species, but failed to account for whatever parallel database the med-scanners pulled directly from. An easy mistake to make, maybe, and one that would only be discovered if somebody actually scanned a dragon.

Things were getting more complicated by the day. Marcus scowled and brought his attention back to the road, realising he was almost at his destination already. The human pushed all those thoughts to the back of his mind for now; he could worry about them later, and he needed a clear head tonight.

This deep in the mid-city, the sky above was totally obscured by overhanging structures and horizontal constructions, a natural consequence of space being such a premium here. The roads were narrower, too, and Marcus had to take extra care as he steered his bike between other vehicles, eventually turning off and heading down another ramp into a below-street parking lot.

After pulling into a spot in a secluded corner beside a concrete pillar, Marcus killed the engine and pushed out the kickstand before stepping off the bike. He never liked parking it in public lots, but there weren't really any other options in this part of the city. At least this place was gate-controlled, so there was much less chance some scumbag would try to steal his ride. Not that they'd have much success anyway; the bike had an immobiliser that was biometrically locked, and it would take more than a simple hotwire to get past that.

What did bother him, however, was leaving his gun behind, secured as it was in the concealed compartment under the seat. That arrangement wasn't by choice; tonight's meeting place apparently had a strict no-weapons policy, and he didn't want to jeopardise this opportunity. His replacement arm would serve him well in a fistfight if it came to it, but that didn't stop Marcus from feeling a little naked without a firearm on his hip.

A fast elevator took him up to the fifty-first floor, interrupted by a few stops on the way up to let other passengers on and off, all of whom he ignored. In no time at all he was there, stepping out from the claustrophobic metal box into the space beyond.

Crowds thronged the spacious corridor from end to end, an eclectic mix of species and colours from every walk of life, and the human had to shove his way in to join the flow of people. He was in one of the huge bridging structures that cut across from one skyscraper to another, itself large enough to host all manner of businesses and venues inside it. This place was less like the interior of a building and more like a pedestrianised street, albeit one suspended hundreds of feet above its counterparts below.

A great multitude of sounds filled the space, along with a hundred clashing odours, and while Marcus' aural implants could compensate for the former, he had nothing to protect him against the latter. He resolved to push on as quickly as possible, weaving through the crowd and brushing aside every irritating lowlife who tried to sell him something or pick his pocket. Marcus knew his destination couldn't be far, and the muted pounding of music told him he was getting close.

Finally, he spotted the glowing sign sticking out of the left side wall, above the heads of the crowd. Illuminated in neon blue, it read “Tachyon" -tonight's meeting point. The place seemed pretty inconspicuous, the entrance only marked by that sign and a single black doorway set into the bare metal wall, all but ignored by the other passers-by. And inconspicuous suited him just fine.

Marcus made his way out of the crowd and approached the doorway. He tapped the small screen strapped to his left forearm, navigating through menus until he located the access code that would get him in- the club was invitation-only, apparently. A quick flash of the code to a scanner beside the entrance, and he was in, the outer door opening and sliding smoothly into the wall. It quickly locked back in place once he was inside, leaving Marcus alone in the dim glow of a single red bulb. Moments later, the inner door slid open, revealing a small and darkened corridor which angled off to the right.

If Marcus thought the sound of the busy streetway outside was noisy, this was something else entirely. With every step he took along the corridor, the din got louder, until he could practically feel the repetitive thump of driving bass in his bones. Synthesisers shrieked and drum hits crashed, the music rising to a crescendo of noise that even his implants struggled to dampen.

He almost started nodding his head instinctively. Marcus wondered what Zera would make of this. Then he frowned, realising he'd let himself get distracted again, and quickly rounded the corner ahead into the club proper.

An eclectic light show assaulted his eyes, half-blinding him- at least until his corneal implants did their job and filtered it to be slightly less seizure-inducing. Banks of lasers and coloured spotlights pulsed and danced in time with the music, and holographic projectors filled the foggy air with spiralling geometric shapes that were, admittedly, quite impressive to watch.

Marcus glanced across the crowd towards the main bar. An ocean of moving bodies stood in the way, erratically illuminated by the sweeping lights above, and he slipped through the entranceway preparing to force his way into a crowd once more.

The human felt a solid hand on his shoulder, and he spun, ready for a fight. The glowering muzzle of a lion stared down at him, his mane tightly clipped yet no less intimidating for it. A set of impressive fangs poked out of the lion's maw, glinting in the light.

“Where you think yer goin'?" he rumbled, his deep voice barely audible over the music.

Marcus didn't falter and returned the felid's glower with one of his own. His eyes briefly flicked downwards, towards the security badge emblazoned on the chest of the lion's uniform. Ah.

“I have a meeting," he called back. “There a problem? I've got an invite."

A bulky, dark-furred canid approached from the other side, also sporting a bouncer's uniform. “You're not getting in without a search," the canid explained, his voice comparatively calm despite having to shout over the din. “No weapons allowed in. Are you carrying any guns, knives or other bladed weapons, or explosives of any kind?"

Marcus relaxed a little. “No. Nothin'. Go ahead," he said, raising his arms out to his side. The lion let go of his shoulder, and the canid moved in to pat him down. Both of the mammals were taller than him, but Marcus was used to being looked down on, as humans were on the smaller end of Horizon's many species.

The canid gave him a thorough search, getting a little too handsy in some places, but ultimately came away seeming satisfied. Marcus noticed the dog's eyes lingering on his prosthetic for a little longer, and for a moment was concerned he'd get refused for it. In the end, the bouncers stepped aside, and the lion dismissively waved him through.

At this rate, he was going to be late. Marcus did his best to push through the lively crowd without knocking anyone over -a difficult enough task, considering their various states of intoxication- and eventually managed to reach the bar. He found a free spot, miraculously, and leaned against the counter to wait.

He didn't have to wait long. One of the bartenders, another human, soon caught his eye and came over to serve him.

“What can I get you?" she called.

Marcus folded his arms. “I'm here to see a raven."

The bartender thought for a moment. Then, realisation dawned. “Oh. Marcus, right?"

“That's me," he nodded. “Is he here?"

She indicated a set of glass stairs against the far wall, leading up to a mezzanine level. “Upstairs at the back, second floor, booth nine. He's waiting for you."

Marcus gave her a quick thanks, then followed her directions, eventually reaching the stairway after some more pushing and shoving through drunken revellers. Heading up the stairs and across the overhanging balcony, he took note of a glowing sign pointing towards the private booths. Set back into the wall, they were darkened and fairly secluded from the rest of the club downstairs, separated from the balcony by a wide walkway and surrounded by privacy glass enclosures.

It didn't take him long to find booth nine, or to recognize the black-feathered figure seated inside, reclined in the corner against the red faux-leather seating. Casually, Marcus made his way over to the booth, the raven apparently too engrossed in conversation to notice him. Marcus couldn't see who he was talking to from this angle, but he'd been under the impression this was a solo meeting.

He bristled, but decided to hold his tongue for now. It had taken weeks to set up this meet, and despite his misgivings, Marcus wasn't going to throw away this opportunity so easily. Before the human could reach the glass door of the booth, however, a feathered arm swiped it open with an open-clawed gesture. Sly bastard.

“Marcus! Glad you could make it. C'mon, join us."

Carlos turned to face him as he entered, making the best attempt at a grin that his beaked face could manage. “Seriously, man. Get in here. Sit down, grab yourself a drink. It's on my tab."

The broker patted the cushioned leather beside him before shutting the door with another gesture, the vestigial wing hanging limply below his arm as he did so. Their booth was suddenly quiet, the din of the nightclub having been reduced to a low thrum by the enclosure of soundproof glass. Marcus noticed a further shift in volume a half-second later as his aural implants adjusted to the abrupt change in noise level.

“Carlos," the human nodded in acknowledgement as he took the seat proffered. Glancing across the table, Marcus only then got a good look at the person seated in the opposite corner- and had to do a double-take when he saw a familiar face.

The hyena was huge, taller even than the lion working security, and she looked even bigger compared to the wiry avian seated opposite. Biceps almost the size of Marcus' own head strained out from a sleeveless, studded leather jacket, with the rest of her body being similarly well built. She was missing half of one ear, while the other sported an array of metal piercings, and the shaggy mane adorning her head and neck was dyed a lurid purple, in contrast to the muddy-brown shade of her spotted coat. An assortment of scars marked her face and shoulders- including a few more recent additions that must have happened after their last meeting.

She sat with her arms folded, regarding the human with a knowing smirk. He did his best to mirror her casual demeanour, although the look she was shooting at him made that significantly more difficult.

“Marcus," she drawled. “Didn't expect to see your face tonight. Been a while, eh?"

“Uh… Kailyn," he said, hoping the surprise wasn't too evident in his voice. “It sure has. A few years, at least. Glad to see you're still alive."

“Hmph. Mostly thanks to you, skinnie. I still owe you for that one."

Marcus waved a hand. “Nah. That was nothing. Ancient history, now."

Carlos looked on in amusement, idly swirling a drink in his three-clawed hand. “Hmm. I suspected you two might know each other. What was it, retrieval? Hitjob? A good old-fashioned heist?"

Marcus frowned at him. “Don't pretend you don't know every detail already."

“I'm not omniscient, Marcus," the broker remarked with a chuckle. “Much as I'd like to be."

“So you're sayin' this is just a coincidence? You didn't set this meeting up on purpose?"

“Hey, the city's only so big, and there's only so many people I'm willing to give the time of day to. Just so happens you two came looking for me at the same time."

Marcus knew better than to trust Carlos' word on that. Some years ago, the human had run a few very profitable jobs with Kailyn, and that kind of success always got noticed in this business. Reputation was key, after all, and those contracts had won the both of them some serious repute at the time. Paid for most of his house, too.

Kailyn leaned forward in her seat, barely affording the raven's remarks a passing regard. “That shit you pulled wasn't nothing, Marcus. You dragged my half-conscious ass out of there under some serious fire, after that prick's backup had already arrived. I'd be fucking biofuel by now if you hadn't come back to get me."

He shrugged. “Just doing what I was paid to do."

“Asshole. You know damn well the job was already done. I put the bullet in him myself. No part of that contract said you needed to risk your life for mine. Hell," she snorted, “You probably could have taken my share of the paycheck if you'd just left me to bleed out. The boss wouldn't even have questioned you about it."

Kailyn's determined stare bore deep into him, and Marcus glanced away after a moment. “Well, that's not my way of doin' things."

The hyena broke into a grin. “And thank fuck it isn't. Still, you're a hard man to track down, and I don't like owing a debt for this long. Before we split tonight, you're taking my contact number, and I expect you to cash in on that favour sooner rather than later."

Marcus looked back at her quizzically. “Didn't you already, uh, repay the favour? I won't forget that in a hurry."

“What, because I slept with you?" Kailyn laughed. “Come on, Marcus. That was just a bit of fun."

Beside him, Carlos choked quietly on a sip of his drink. Marcus felt his cheeks burning, though he tried to hide his awkwardness with a glower. “You really want to air out my private life in front of him?" he asked, jabbing a finger in the raven's direction.

“Trust me, this is not the sort of information I trade in…" the broker sputtered.

“See? He doesn't care. Besides, that hardly counts as repayment. I still owe you my life, skinnie. Though," she shot him a toothy grin, “that offer is also still open, of course."

Marcus swallowed. The truth was, he'd only broken off their working relationship when things got too entangled a few days after he saved Kailyn's life. The human had made himself scarce after that night, afraid that it might turn into something more serious. The prospect of reigniting that old flame did, admittedly, appeal to him more than he expected…

…until the notion quickly soured, when he imagined the reaction of his scaly lodger back home, if she were to find out about it.

Wait. Why did he care what Zera thought? Why did the idea of sleeping with Kailyn now feel almost like a betrayal?

“Uh… I'll… think about it?"

The hyena only cackled louder, unphased as usual. “Ha! Did I scare you off after last time? Can't handle a girl who's got a bigger dick than you do?"

“Aaaand that's officially more than I needed to hear!" Carlos interjected, and Marcus made a mental note to thank him later. “Please, guys. Here I thought I was in the company of professionals..."

“Says the man who still hasn't explained what all this is about," Marcus turned to him. “I thought I arranged a meet, not a fuckin' social call."

Kailyn folded her arms again, and leaned back into her seat. “Agreed. Much as I don't mind catching up with an old friend-" she gave Marcus another one of those looks- “What is he actually doing here? I was under the impression this would be a little more confidential. No offence, Marcus."

“Well, I'm glad you finally asked," Carlos said. “To make a long story short, I'm due to meet a few, shall we say, unsavoury characters this evening, and I'd like some protection with me in case anything goes wrong."

Marcus recoiled. “Security detail? That's it? I didn't come here to be your fuckin' bodyguard!"

“Wait, don't you have your own guys?" Kailyn added. “The fuck do you need us here for?"

Carlos took another sip of his drink. “Of course I do. I could fill this place with dozens if I wanted to. But, you both needed a favour from me, and I need a couple of skilled individuals tonight, people I can trust to keep this clean and low-key. This way, I can kill two birds with one stone, to use a rather cruel and, frankly, offensive metaphor."

“Fuck this," Marcus growled. “You're wasting my time." He stood angrily from the table, and made to leave. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was being fucked with, and Carlos had officially crossed the limit of his patience.

“So, I take it you don't want my assistance with this big opportunity of yours?"

He froze, gritting his teeth. Carlos' tone was now cold as ice, as his jovial mask slipped, replaced by something altogether more sinister.

“Go ahead and leave if you want. I'm not going to stop you. If you don't want my help, that's fine by me- you can always take your business elsewhere."

The blackmail was simple, and very effective. Carlos, like all successful brokers, specialised in soft power rather than brute force. Information and a vast network of connections were his weapons, ones he wielded expertly. And Carlos was perhaps the most well-connected of all brokers. Marcus needed his help, and the raven knew it.

He glared back down at Carlos, but held his tongue. He didn't like this, not one bit… but, did he really have a choice?

Marcus knew what this was all for. Though it was made up of nothing more than bytes of data, he still imagined he could feel the weight of that precious file sitting heavily in his left arm's implanted storage. The things he'd done to get hold of it, what it meant for his future…

Zera's future too, maybe.

Shaking his head defeatedly, Marcus sat down again, sinking into the soft cushioned leather with an annoyed huff. Carlos gave him a look of vague approval, then turned to Kailyn, who had been watching their whole exchange in attentive silence.

“The same goes for you, K, if you want that address."

“Hmph. Fine."

“Consider it the finder's fee. Both of you."

“Whatever," Marcus sighed. “Let's just get this over with."

Carlos shot him another open-beaked grin. “Excellent. Order a drink, we might be waiting a while."

“I'm good," he replied.

“Really, I insist. They have private bar service up here."

Frowning, Marcus shared a questioning glance with Kailyn, who simply raised her half-empty beer bottle in response. He quickly brought up a holographic menu with a gesture over the table and swiped through without paying much attention, selecting the first thing he saw that contained the word vodka.

“Interesting choice," came Carlos' voice, but he ignored the comment. There were more pressing issues on Marcus' mind.

“So, who the fuck are you meeting tonight that you need our kinda' protection from?"

“Good question," Kailyn added. “Who's stupid enough to try and fuck with you, of all people?"

It was a fair question. Data brokers -especially the more powerful ones- enjoyed a sort of informal immunity from being targeted by any of the major factions in Horizon. Even most low-level criminals knew not to mess with them. Without well connected people like Carlos to act as dealmakers and neutral go-betweens, the city's whole underground economy would probably fall apart. The fact that he even felt at risk tonight was unusual, to say the least.

The raven sipped his drink again. “Couple of choppers looking for their first big job, apparently. Came to me through one of my regular fixers. I hear they've built up quite the successful track record already."

“Choppers? Since when did you deal with those nutcases?"

“Since when was it your place to know my business, Marcus?"

The human scowled. “You dragged me into this. You made it my business."

Carlos paused, clicking his beak in acceptance. “Fair point, I suppose. The truth is, these two come highly recommended. They've proven quite capable of tackling difficult jobs- trust me, I've looked into them extensively."

Kailyn raised an eyebrow. “So that's enough to overlook the fact that they're probably batshit fucking insane?"

“Not quite," the raven said. “That's why you two are here, after all."

“But they know who you are," Marcus stated. “Surely even those limb-slicing freaks wouldn't fuckin' dare to cross you."

Carlos drummed his claws on the table idly. “They know me, sure. But they don't really know the business. Not yet." He lifted his drink again, but stopped short of taking another sip. “Yes, they might have some skill. But, ultimately, these guys are still just novices with big ideas. And that means they're more likely to try something stupid."

Marcus nodded in agreement. He'd seen it before; young hotheads new to the game and fresh from a string of successes, who started to believe they could take on anything and anyone. A swift, deadly reality often followed. Hell, if not for his years spent working as a cop -a job that quickly quashed any misplaced naïvety he once had- Marcus knew he could easily have met a similar fate.

“So you think these two might try to what, threaten you? Extort, kidnap… kill?" Kailyn asked.

“Hopefully, none of the above," Carlos said. “But it never hurts to be safe."

“Yeah, well, you might be more safe if I had a gun on me. I wasn't expecting to run a job tonight."

“Me neither," Marcus said. “Not that I could've brought one in here anyway. No-weapons policy, remember?"

Carlos smirked. “I know. And I have full faith in both of your abilities, armed or not. Ah, your drink is here."

Marcus looked back to see a well-dressed felid approaching their table, carrying with her a single glass on a metal tray. Carlos made the gesture that opened the doorway, and the booth was again flooded with the sound of blasting music as the server leaned in, placing the drink on the table before leaving without so much as a word.

As quiet abruptly fell once more, Marcus looked down at his drink with a frown. The contents were a bright, almost luminescent blue, looking more like spent reactor coolant than something actually drinkable. Cautiously, he lifted the square glass and took a sip.

Surprisingly, it wasn't half bad. The heat of the vodka was there, definitely, along with a slight sweetness and an almost metallic aftertaste that he couldn't quite identify. Setting the bizarre drink down, Marcus refocused his attention on the ongoing conversation beside him.

“…time are these guys meant to show up at, anyway? I haven't got all night to just fuck around here, Carlos."

The raven chuckled. “Patient as ever, Kailyn. I told them to be here for eleven. They won't be too long if they know what's good for them."

“Never mind that," Marcus cut in. “Do we know how augmented they are?"

“My sources weren't entirely clear on that. At least a few full limb replacements. Nothing you two couldn't handle, I'm sure."

Marcus scowled. That meant they could be tough to take down in a fight, if it came to it, but it wasn't what had the human so on edge. Limb replacements weren't like other augmentations. His corneal implants, for example, only enhanced his vision; they didn't replace his own eyes and could be removed (at a considerable cost, of course) should he ever decide to do so. Basic sensory enhancements, corrective implants, gender reassignments, and simple cosmetic augments were quite common, if pricey, and generally socially acceptable in most circles.

But at some point, a line was crossed. The idea that anyone would voluntarily subject themselves to limb amputation was sickening. He'd give anything to undo what had been done to him, and as far as he was concerned no potential advantage was worth permanently losing a part of yourself.

Some people, however, didn't see things that way. 'Choppers' weren't any sort of organised group or gang; the term was just slang for anyone who went far enough down the route of extreme modification that it turned into an obsession. People who no longer had any regard for their own bodies and would happily remove anything they might get a more useful replacement for.

Naturally, that didn't sit right with Marcus. He clenched his prosthetic hand into a fist, trying to calm his bubbling temper. It seemed like everything was destined to piss him off tonight.

Carlos and Kailyn were still mid-discussion, but Marcus was only half listening by now. As he looked on, the hyena caught his eye and shot him a wink that Carlos either missed or chose to ignore. Oh, she was interested, alright. He had no doubts about that. Again, Marcus was tempted to ask Kailyn to stick around after the meeting ended and see where the night went.

If only the sinking pit in his stomach would stop getting in the way.

Marcus couldn't understand it. The human had never felt like this before; a gnawing sense of guilt eating at him over just the thought of going back to someone else's bed tonight. He tried to convince himself that it wasn't about Zera; tonight was for business, after all, and fucking off on a one-night stand now would just be a careless distraction… though probably a worthwhile one, if last time was anything to go by.

Zera didn't need to know. Then again, what did it matter if she did? They'd set clear enough boundaries- friends with benefits, right? Zera would understand. Maybe she wouldn't even care!

…So why the fuck did he?

Marcus sunk back into his seat as the realisation settled on him. He didn't want anyone else.

The human balked. This was bad. Until now, this whole thing with the dragon… he'd rationalised it as just being about sex, sating a physical desire and just having a mutual good time. But the thought of it turning into something more serious?

It terrified him. And yet he couldn't make that sinking feeling stop.

This was getting out of hand. Marcus glanced back at the drink in front of him, before lifting the glass and downing the contents in one go. He savoured the vodka's burn as it ran down his throat, distracting him from the uncomfortable thoughts swirling in his head.

Carlos cleared his throat. “You, uh, wanna take it easy there Marcus?"

“What?" Marcus glowered at him. “It's one fuckin' drink."

The raven shared a look with Kailyn, who nodded at Marcus' now empty glass. “You know what's in that blue shit, right?" she asked.

Marcus stared back at her, waiting for the punchline. When none came, he wordlessly brought up the bar's menu again, scrolling through until he came across the drink he'd ordered. Nothing stood out initially. Vodka, apple liqueur, salt, lime… contains a novel psychedelic compound?

“Oh, shit."

Kailyn slapped the table, threw her head back and laughed, as Marcus looked at the menu in disbelief, fully comprehending the implications of what he'd just done. The only drugs he ever usually indulged in were alcohol, and the occasional strong painkiller. The human didn't even enjoy getting fucked up- in his line of work, at his level, it was a quick way to get yourself killed.

“What the fuck kind of place are we in, Carlos?" he growled. “No way this shit is legal."

The raven blinked. “Now, Marcus. We both know legality doesn't factor in here. This is an exclusive club that caters to some quite high-profile clientele; people who often have, shall we say, exotic tastes in substances- yours truly notwithstanding."

“And they pay the authorities to look the other way…" Marcus said, nodding begrudgingly. In a way it didn't surprise him- in his old job he'd discovered soon enough just how rotten with corruption Horizon's police system was, and places like this were probably dime a dozen throughout the city.

“Still, neither of you thought to fuckin' warn me?"

“Hey, I figured you knew what you were doing," Kailyn chuckled. “At least until you chugged that thing. You're in for a wild ride now, skinnie."

Marcus' heart sank. “Fuck… you've tried this shit before?"

“Once. To say it knocked me on my ass would be an understatement. Though, that sure was a hell of a night."

“So, how fucked am I?"

The hyena tilted her wrist and glanced at an expensive-looking watch. “Well… I'd say you've probably got about ten minutes to get that shit out of your system before it's too late." She grinned at him. “Unless you'd rather see it through. Who knows, you might even enjoy the trip."

Marcus grimaced, and stood quickly. “Bathroom it is. I won't be long."

Carlos eyed him amusedly. “Try to get back here before my guests show up, eh?"

The human ignored him, moving as quickly as he could without breaking into a sprint. He descended the stairs two at a time, and once again wound his way through the crowd across the main dance floor. The pounding music did little to ease his building anxiety, and Marcus mentally counted every second that passed, ever-conscious of the ticking time bomb working its way into his system.

Mercifully, the bathrooms were less crowded than the rest of the club. Marcus slipped into an unoccupied stall, locking the flimsy latch behind him. The state of the place was almost enough to make him gag on its own, and when he leant over the bowl, the application of two fingers to the back of his throat quickly finished the job.

This wasn't the first time Marcus had needed to do this, but that didn't make the process any less unpleasant. With the worst part over with, he spat a few times, trying to rid his mouth of the remnants. The human felt like slapping himself. How did he let something like this happen? How the fuck could he be so careless?

His thoughts were all over the place. Marcus liked to think of himself as a professional; focused, attentive, with a penchant for careful planning and attention to detail.

But now? Now he felt like an amateur all over again. The last thing he wanted or needed was accidentally getting stoned out of his mind -and even if he'd avoided that outcome, he'd still shown himself up in front of Carlos, a notoriously fickle man who could very easily decide their meeting was off if he didn't like what he'd seen.

He exited the stall and found an empty sink. Marcus cupped a handful of water to wash off his face and rinse the bitter taste from his mouth, ignoring the curious looks the other patrons were giving him. Marcus could only hope he'd been fast enough to purge the adulterated drink from his system.

None of this made sense. He couldn't understand what was going wrong -what had changed that could unravel years of discipline and experience, and leave him at the mercy of emotions he'd long thought were held in check?

No. That was a lie, Marcus admitted to himself. He understood exactly why his focus was clouded.

Zera had changed everything. The dragon occupied his mind more and more, even now when they were apart. He kept thinking about her; the exotic feeling of her scales against his skin, the playful teasing comments they shared, her endless naïve questions and that endearing look of surprise she wore every time he explained some new and fascinating concept. He thought about her smile, genuine and pure, and undeniably infectious. Just hearing her laugh was a treat he'd grown to appreciate.

She was a distraction to the detriment of everything else, and yet Marcus didn't want any of it to stop.

Because, the truth was, it had been a very long time since he'd been as happy as he was with Zera around.

Fuck. So much for friends with benefits.

Another splash of cold water to the face had him clear-headed again. Marcus willed himself to focus, to push the swirling doubts to the back of his mind where he could worry about all of them later. He'd been gone from the meeting long enough, and it was time to head back.

Moving at a brisk pace, he returned the way he came, and was almost past the main bar again when he saw them.

Over by the main entrance, just visible through the crowded masses of other patrons, two hulking figures were being approached by the bouncers. One was a rhino, tall and broad, with a tough leathery hide and a pair of filed-down horns adorning his snout. What stood out most, though, were his arms; both limbs were cybernetic and appeared much less sophisticated than Marcus' own, with bare metal and plasteel totally uncovered by any sort of pseudoskin. They were cheap and basic, evidently built for brute strength and nothing else.

The rhino's partner, by contrast, seemed to have all of their limbs intact. Instead, the bulk of their head was obscured -or replaced- by a myriad of artificial components, from jumbled sensory nodes to expressive lighting strips above where their eyes should have been. Their reconstructed face was fashioned into a crude approximation of a snout, but there was so little left of the original head that Marcus couldn't even tell what species they belonged to.

He scowled in disgust. There was no mistaking them; even in a place like this, the two freaks stood out like a sore thumb. With a few blinks and subtle eye movements, Marcus reactivated the heads-up display on his corneal implants and tagged the newcomers as targets. What parts of them were visible through the crowd became silhouetted in red outlines, making it significantly easier for Marcus to track the two.

He saw the bouncers engage them, and though the noise of the club made it impossible for even him to hear anything, Marcus could tell they were getting the same shakedown he did. The canid that had searched Marcus moved over to frisk the rhino- but stopped when the pachyderm started talking again, holding out an open palm towards the suspicious guards.

Marcus squinted. The view from his implants was magnified slightly, and he could just make out what looked like a credit chit in the rhino's hand. A cold sense of realisation came over the human, and he stiffened.

The two bouncers exchanged a look. Then, the worst happened; they took the bribe, and no sooner had the canid closed his hand around the credit chit than the choppers were on the move, cutting a path through the mob of partygoers and heading straight for the stairs.

“Shit!" Marcus cursed under his breath. From the brief glimpses he could catch of the pair, it was clear that at least the smaller one was armed, the not so subtle shape of a handgun just peeking out from their waistband. There was only one reason why they'd bring a gun in here, and it meant he needed to intervene now.

Marcus quickly followed them, passing between revellers while doing his best to blend in. He was simply another face in the crowd, no more conspicuous than the rest of them, and he intended to hold onto the element of surprise until the very last second. The pair soon reached the stairs, with Marcus following as closely as possible. He sized them up; the rhino looked even bigger from here, and it would have been easy to assess him as the greater threat. But while the other one -Gearface, he decided on- was smaller and skinnier than himself, he had no idea what those implants might allow them to do.

Individually, he reckoned he could take either of them, even unarmed as he was. But Marcus didn't fancy his odds in a two-on-one with this pair. He needed backup. Kailyn's backup.

He fell back slightly, tailing the two at a safer distance. They seemed to know exactly where to go, heading straight up the stairs and across the mezzanine balcony, in the direction of booth nine. Marcus forced his breathing to calm. If he was going to act, he had about thirty seconds left until they reached the booth.

He focused on the back of the rhino's neck- on the shoddily installed connection port that linked the brute's two cybernetic arms to his spinal cord. Unlike Marcus' own implant, the rhino's prosthetics were hardwired outside of his body rather than internally. It was a crude method, the hallmark of illegal back-alley surgery. Luckily for Marcus, it also presented an obvious and convenient weak point.

The glass enclosure of booth nine was directly in front of them, and so far neither of his targets had acknowledged his presence -or done anything actually threatening. Marcus even considered giving them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he wouldn't need to intervene after all.

Then Gearface reached for their gun, and all hell broke loose.

Marcus rushed forward to cross the remaining distance between them, intent on disabling the rhino as quickly as possible- but Gearface spun around impossibly fast, shouting in alarm, and now Marcus realised the benefit all those sensory implants afforded. Eyes on the back of their head.

But while Gearface was fast, the rhino was sluggish to turn, and Marcus took full advantage of his surprise. Before his target could really react, he aimed a quick jab at the brute's spinal port with his own right arm, holding back just enough to hopefully not break his neck.

The blow connected with a crunch of shattering components. The rhino howled in pain, flailing wildly, and Marcus wasn't quite fast enough to move out of his way. A metal fist grazed his nose, the near miss still more than enough to break it. Pain blossomed across the human's face, and he felt wetness start flowing down his lips, yet his opponent had gotten off much worse. The rhino staggered down onto one knee, letting out a strangled gasp as his prosthetic arms fell limp at his sides, the limbs twitching erratically with random electrical impulses from the damaged port.

That was one down, but the fight was far from over. Gearface was on him in seconds, sensibly forgoing their gun in such close quarters. They dodged Marcus' first punch with unnaturally fast reflexes and shoved him back, almost sending the human tumbling to the ground. While Marcus was still recovering his balance, they quickly backpedalled to put some distance between them before reaching for their gun again.

As soon as he realised what was happening, Marcus sprinted back over to the crippled rhino, who was now trying to crawl towards the nearest wall as painful spasms still wracked his body. Marcus hooked his right arm around the pachyderm's muscular neck, pulling him to his feet -fuck, he was heavy- in a tight chokehold. The rhino was a lot bigger than him, and ended up in an awkward half-standing position, with Marcus straining to support the brute's weight as he used him as a living shield.

Gearface had their weapon drawn but hadn't managed to fire it before Marcus grabbed their comrade. They were hesitating now, trying to angle around for a clear shot, and Marcus did his best to keep the rhino's struggling body in front of his own. His opponent's arms were useless, unable to do anything to fight Marcus off as the human kept a vice grip around his neck.

“…shoot… him!" he choked out.

Marcus tightened his hold further, almost enough to strangle his hostage. It would take little effort to kill him - Marcus' cybernetic arm could crush the rhino's neck easily in this position- but he held off for now. Chances were that Carlos would want these two alive, if possible.

“Drop the gun!" Marcus yelled over the music. “Now! Or I'll fuckin' end him!"

Some of the lighting strips on Gearface's head flashed green. “NOT LIKELY" they replied in a harsh, synthesised voice. “YOU'RE STILL OUTNUMBERED, MORON."

Marcus glanced over his adversary's shoulder. He cocked an eyebrow. “Am I?"

Gearface's sensors must have seen it too, as they immediately spun to face the new threat behind them- just not quite fast enough to dodge what was coming.

A vicious left hook slammed into their metal-plated head, and Kailyn's blow sent Gearface reeling, knocking them to the floor and sending the gun tumbling from their grip. To their credit, they recovered quickly and scrambled to their feet before Kailyn could land a follow-up kick.

Heavy bass thrummed all around them as Kailyn grappled with Gearface, and Marcus dropped the rhino, dashing for the fallen gun. He was about to close his fingers around the grip when a solid mass crashed into him from the side, and he tumbled to the floor. Marcus rolled with the momentum and was quickly on his feet again, turning to see the rhino -now with one arm working again - reaching for the gun himself.

“Skinnie motherfucker! I'll- Agh!"

Marcus didn't waste a second, landing a solid kick on the brute's knee and a right hook to his flank. The rhino roared in pain, his newly functional arm struggling to bring the gun to bear as Marcus wrestled with him. His opponent might have been bigger and heavier, but with one less limb to work with, Marcus was able to get the upper hand in the struggle, pushing the rhino back to send him tumbling through the booth's enclosure, shattering the glass doorway and launching crystalline slivers all over the furniture inside.

The brute fell forwards onto the glass-covered table, and Marcus took advantage of his momentary disorientation to grab his head and slam it down onto the table again, and again, the rhino howling in pain as glass shards cut into the thick skin of his snout. With his stronger arm, Marcus managed to wrench the gun from his opponent's grip, who froze as soon as Marcus pressed the cold metal of the muzzle against the back of the pachyderm's skull.

“Don't fuckin' move," Marcus growled.

To his left, Kailyn threw Gearface onto the leather seating of the booth, her strength easily holding the chopper in place as she planted a knee on his back. The smaller freak stopped struggling too, and Marcus saw that some of the components covering their head were smashed to pieces from the force of Kailyn's punch. The hyena was bleeding from her fist, and Marcus became acutely aware of his broken nose, still spilling his own blood down the front of his t-shirt. They'd both got off lightly, all things considered.

His eyes met Kailyn's, and they shared a nod.

The sound of slow clapping came from the corner of the booth. There, away from the shattered remnants of the enclosure, sat Carlos, still unfazed as ever. He gave Marcus a crooked grin.

“Thank you Marcus, Kailyn," he spoke over the music. “Still as reliable as ever, I see. And you!"

The raven's voice dipped to a sinister tone as he glared over at the two incapacitated choppers, yet still managed to be heard effortlessly over the music. “You, my friends, are fucked."

No response came, and his glare hardened even further.

“Who exactly put you up to this? Traxus?"

“N-no..." the rhino managed.

“Then who? You idiots must have had the backing of someone pretty fucking big to think you could pull off a stunt like this. Nobody comes after me and walks away afterwards. Surely even you understand that."

Marcus pressed the gun's barrel down harder.

“There was no… backer… we-"

“You sure?" the broker questioned. “Because my friend here has a very itchy trigger finger, and right now he's just begging for an excuse to use it."

“Nobody! N-nobody put us up to this! I swear!"

Carlos let out a derisive snort. “Seriously? So you're just this stupid? What precisely was your plan, morons?"

The rhino spat out a mouthful of blood. “…just wanted i-info… wasn't going… to kill you!"

“Really?" The broker put on a mocking smile. “How generous of you."

The choppers said nothing. Carlos took another sip of his drink, still reclined back in his chair like this was nothing more than a casual conversation.

“And, because you've been so generous in not planning to murder me, I might just spare your life in return!"

Marcus shot Carlos a confused look, but kept his own mouth shut.

“Th… thank you!" the rhino said, surprise evident in his voice. “We'll… repay-"

“No, you won't," the raven said matter-of-factly. “You can never repay this. From now on, for the rest of your miserable lives, I own you."

“W-what?"

“You two are going to work for me, and only me. Whatever the job, whenever I want it done, you'll drop everything else and you'll get it done. No matter if it's hunting down the next idiot who thinks they can cross me, or shining my goddamn shoes, when I call, you will answer. Understand?"

The rhino mumbled an affirmative, while Gearface only nodded. It occurred to Marcus that Kailyn might have actually wrecked their voice synthesiser, leaving them quite literally speechless.

Carlos grinned maliciously. “Good. I know you'll do what you're told. After all," he leaned forward towards Gearface, grabbing their metallic snout and gently tilting it up to face him, “I know exactly why you hide your face, and from who." Carlos lowered his voice menacingly. “Tower thirty-seven, South Hammond Street. Apartment forty. Get a better lock."

Gearface flinched back, blue lighting flickering over their damaged features, before Carlos turned to their partner. He stared down at the rhino whose face Marcus was still pressing against the table, though the human could see the look of dawning terror he was sporting.

“Your daughter Annie, she's eight now, right? As of last month if I recall." The raven leaned in further, and even Marcus felt uneasy when he saw the delighted glint in Carlos' stare. “I hear she's got the most beautiful green eyes. Just like her mother."

The rhino's mouth hung open for a long moment, lips mouthing silent words that he seemed unable to vocalise. Then, his face slackened, and his shoulders sagged, finally managing a single weak nod in response.

Marcus recognised the demeanour of a man overcome with despair. In the dim light of the booth, he saw the brute close his eyes, and what looked like the glittering streak of a tear rolling down a grey-skinned snout.

The human looked back over at Kailyn, who wore an unreadable expression on her muzzle. She didn't meet his gaze this time. If she had any reservations about what they'd just been a part of, she hid them well.

“Well," began Carlos, as he reclined back into his seat, and finished his drink. “I'm glad we could all reach an understanding. Now, you can either leave on your own two feet, or I'll call security to drag you out. I strongly recommend the former."

***

The disintegrating clump of tissues in his hand was already saturated with blood, and Marcus tossed it aside, grabbing a fresh wad and pressing it up to his face. The bleeding from his nose was slowing, at least, though the pain was still fresh. Manually resetting the break certainly hadn't helped with that. Still, better to straighten it out now than risk having to re-break it later.

“So," Marcus grumbled, his blood-clogged sinuses making him sound like he had the flu himself. “Mind telling me exactly what the fuck that was all about?"

Carlos smirked- as much as a beak could smirk, anyway. “You mean why didn't I just kill them? In my position, it pays to have men who are unquestioningly loyal to you. They were simply more useful to me alive."

“Loyalty through fear ain't exactly reliable."

“On the contrary. I find it is the most effective sort. Now, let me guess. This is the part where you tell me how you disapprove of my methods?"

“…I just don't like getting his daughter involved," Marcus admitted. “Kids can't choose their parents."

“Ha! That's rich coming from you. I distinctly recall you having no issue with involving innocent bystanders when it suited your own ends," Carlos fired back, his tone biting. “The name Abara comes to mind."

Marcus couldn't quite hold back a flinch at the mention of that name, nor the brief flicker of an unwelcome memory that surfaced for a single instant. Hypocrite, it whispered.

The raven smiled. “Thought so."

Their conversation passed among a backdrop of silence. After the two choppers made their hasty exit, Carlos arranged a move to one of the less destroyed booths, since Marcus had effectively neutralised the soundproofing capacity of number nine. Carlos told him not to worry about it. The damage was, apparently, also on the raven's tab.

Kailyn stood guard outside, keeping a respectful distance from the entrance, though the sound dampening rendered their conversation inaudible to anyone else regardless. She had had her turn with Carlos first while Marcus had waited in the same position she now occupied, slowly dripping blood onto the floor below. The hyena had been quick -concluding her business with the raven in less than ten minutes- and had come away seeming satisfied enough. That boded well for Marcus, at least.

Though, something was still bothering him.

“What about their story? You really buy that they weren't workin' for anyone else? Because, more often than not, a guy with a gun to his head is just gonna' tell you what he thinks you want to hear."

“I believe it," Carlos said. “My investigation was very thorough. They don't have any other backing; I just wanted to see if they'd tell me the truth."

“Still, I don't get it. If you had them both by the balls already, why bother with all this? Woulda' saved us a lot of effort if you'd just led with the blackmail to begin with."

The broker chuckled. “Marcus, you're an excellent operative, but there's a reason you don't do what I do. Information is everything. You don't give away something like that until you have to. If those two had just played their part, showed some respect and kept their egos in check, they never would've had to find out that I've been watching them for weeks. Tonight was a test- one they failed miserably."

Marcus took a moment to process the raven's words. “You were trackin' them for that long already?"

“I like to keep a close eye on all my potential associates."

“So… that mean you know where I live, after all?"

Carlos grinned “Even if I did, would I tell you?"

Marcus said nothing.

“Anyway, I think I've entertained your curiosity long enough. It's getting late. Let's get to business."

The human nodded. “Fair enough. I ain't got all night, either."

The raven sat straighter, leaning forward to set his clawed hands on the table. “I have to admit, I am a little intrigued to hear about this 'big opportunity' of yours. You've certainly talked it up enough."

“And you know I'm not the sort to bullshit."

“Indeed. So, tell me. What have you got for me?"

Marcus didn't answer verbally. Instead, he placed his left arm up on the table, rolling his sleeve back to reveal the small wrist-mounted screen strapped under his jacket. He tapped the screen and navigated through the interface to find a particular, securely encrypted file. One more tap displayed the filename and some basic identifying metadata. That caught the broker's attention.

“This is the big opportunity. File 243-"

“I know what it is," Carlos interrupted, his gaze fixed intently on the display. The raven's eyes lit up, his entire body language shifting in what appeared to be genuine excitement. “And it looks legit, too…"

He wasn't surprised that Carlos recognised the file by name alone. If someone like Marcus had come to find out about it, there was no doubt that any broker worth their salt had as well.

Carlos met his eyes once more, beak hanging slightly ajar. “So it was you.."

That, Marcus hadn't expected. “You already knew?"

The raven shook his head, feathers ruffling as he did. “Not concretely, no. But I had my suspicions."

“What suspicions?"

“Well, that little raid, for starters. I don't know many people who could pull something like that off and get away with it. Eleven dead -including a grizzly?"

“Tough bastard to finish off. Almost took me with him."

“And to leave so little trace behind? If I didn't know you, Marcus, even I would have had trouble tracking down the culprit."

Marcus shrugged. “It was hardly the most difficult job I've worked."

“Even so, I have to admit, I'm impressed. That was almost textbook work."

“Almost?"

Carlos smirked. “You did leave one alive. The tiger."

The human supposed he shouldn't be shocked about that, either. Zianos' body wasn't with the others; it didn't take a genius to figure out that the gang's leader had survived.

“I didn't need to kill him. He won't be a problem."

“Used to work for the police, too, if I remember correctly. Old colleague of yours?"

“Can't say I knew him that well," Marcus lied.

“Well, he's gone missing. I had hoped to speak to him myself, find out how exactly such a low-level player managed to get his paws on something so valuable. But, so far I haven't had much luck tracking him down."

“Like I said, he won't be a problem."

“Ah, it doesn't matter anyway. Not when I have the prize right in front of me." Carlos glanced at him quizzically. “You do have it on you, right?"

Marcus tapped the storage implant embedded in his left forearm. “Right here. Wouldn't trust leavin' it anywhere else."

The raven nodded silently and seemed to be weighing his options.

“It's bio-locked," Marcus interjected. “Before you get any funny ideas. Anything happens to me-"

“It gets wiped, yeah, yeah. C'mon, Marcus. You know that's not how I do business."

“Fine. Then let's do business. I need a buyer for this thing, and a fair price. Can you arrange that?"

Carlos drummed his claws on the table thoughtfully. “How much do you want for it?" he asked.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. That sort of negotiating tactic might have worked on a novice; inviting them to make an offer that was either insultingly high or an embarrassing lowball that no broker would accept, since they usually took a flat percentage as commission. But Marcus was no novice. He'd done his research, seen the offers being tossed around for even tangential information on 847b. Before heading out tonight, he had already settled on a figure that, in his mind, was more than fair.

“Twenty million," Marcus said. “Nothing less."

The broker visibly hesitated -a rare gesture which immediately put Marcus ill at ease- and when he did reply, his tone was guarded and careful.

“Marcus, the current highest bid for that file… well, the last I heard, it was closer to two hundred million."

He felt his blood run cold. If it weren't for his reliable aural augments, Marcus would have thought he'd misheard. Weeks of research and planning abruptly vanished out the window, and a pit of nervousness opened up in his stomach. That number simply made no sense. Two hundred million wasn't a fair sum- it was insanity!

What exactly had he gotten himself into?

“Admittedly, you won't hear that sort of offer out in the open," the raven continued while Marcus simply stared back in shock. “You can be forgiven for not knowing the true value of it. Any buyer willing to pay that sort of money comes straight to me, or one of my contemporaries. Sums like that don't move around in public."

“…Carlos, what the fuck is in this file?"

“Honestly? Even I don't know, but it seems like every major player wants to get their claws on it. I've heard plenty of rumours, of which likely none are true. It's schematics for a superweapon, or the secret to immortality, a fully functional AI, that sort of thing. Whatever it is, all the corps seem to think it'll give them some sort of decisive advantage." Carlos shrugged. “In other words, a game-changer."

Marcus swallowed hard. It dawned on him that this file was probably the most wanted thing in the city.

And that made him the most wanted man.

His head swam as the reality of the situation began to sink in. For the first time in a long while, Marcus felt like he was in way over his head. This was getting too dangerous for him- if he'd known just how valuable 847b was, he'd have stayed as far away from the whole mess as possible. Like an idiot, he'd thought laying low for a few weeks would be enough for the heat to die down, and he could then simply sell the file and return home a rich man, no strings attached.

But what Carlos said was true, the heat would never die down. The best he could hope for was to get rid of the damn thing as quickly as possible- at least then it would be somebody else's problem.

“That… still doesn't explain it, though," the human thought aloud. “Why do the corps want this file so much? What else is going on?"

The broker regarded him for a moment, seemingly considering his answer. “Things are getting tense out there, Marcus," he eventually said.

“So what?" Marcus huffed. “The megacorps have been at each other's throats since before either of us were born. That's nothin' new."

“Of course they have. And still, this is different."

“How?"

A pause.

“Marcus, right now more money is being thrown around than I've ever seen before. Disappearances are skyrocketing, assassinations too. There's talk of experimental combat drones being spotted over the city. Hell, Traxus and Merali are practically one provocation away from breaking into open warfare. Something has the corps extremely on edge. The government, too, though they're keeping quieter about it."

“…they're spooked?" Marcus asked. “Even Traxus is spooked?"

“Mmm. There's a bigger game being played here, Marcus."

“Bigger than you?"

“Yes," Carlos hissed, his neck feathers visibly standing on end. Marcus had never seen him this unsettled before, which didn't do much to assuage his own doubts.

“Take this as a professional courtesy, colleague to colleague. Watch your back, Marcus."

The human nodded slowly, absorbing the raven's words. If Carlos of all people was concerned, then Marcus knew he ought to be, too. He resolved to be even more careful from now on.

Ominous warnings aside, he was surprised at just how easily Carlos had given out so much info. As per the broker's own claim, he never did so without a reason… so, Marcus surmised he intended to help him after all.

“You'll still do it, then."

Carlos sighed. “Yes. I can still get you a buyer, but -as I'm sure you can imagine- it will not be easy to arrange. It'll cost you, more than usual."

“Understood. I'll double your normal cut if that's what it takes."

But the broker shook his head. “I'm not just talking money, Marcus. The usual cut will do, but I'll need something extra. I've been struggling to find a willing fourth to help run a particularly complicated job, and I have an impatient client breathing down my neck over it. Do this for me, and you'll have your buyer."

Marcus stiffened. “What? Why? Get someone else to run it, for fuck's sake. I'll triple your cut!"

The raven raised a single claw, motioning him to calm. “Look, nothing is set in stone yet. We'll discuss the details later. I'll make some calls, see what I can arrange. For now, I suggest you continue keeping your head down, and consider my offer. I'll contact you when I have some more concrete info to share."

Gritting his teeth, Marcus swallowed the sharp retort he wanted to give. He hadn't planned on working any more jobs after this- perhaps naïvely hoping he could just sell 847b and quietly retire to a mansion in the affluent northern districts. Things were rarely that simple, of course, but that didn't stop the bitter taste that arose in his mouth at the thought of being Carlos' pawn yet again.

Or maybe that was just the lingering taste of blood leaking from his sinuses.

“Fine," he sighed, trying to push down the sense of unease that had settled in his chest. “I'll think about it. You know how to reach me."

“Excellent. It's been a pleasure, Marcus."

Marcus stood, not wanting to linger for a second longer than necessary -but he was forced to grab the table and steady himself when he almost fell back into his seat, suddenly disoriented.

“…everything alright?"

“Of course."

In truth, he felt decidedly off. His mind was racing, and his balance was unsteady. Marcus could sense his heart pounding in his chest, and he couldn't help but worry. Sure, he was still reeling from the revelation a few minutes ago, but this was a bit much, especially for someone used to keeping a cool head when under pressure. Perhaps the rhino had hit him harder than he thought.

He managed to exit the booth and walk a few steps, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort. All of a sudden, the floor seemed like it was very far away, and he lost his footing and stumbled. “What the fu-"

A furred paw caught Marcus' arm and carefully righted him. Kailyn looked down her muzzle at him, concerned- before breaking into a grin, as if she'd just noticed something funny.

“Oh, shit," she cackled. “Your pupils are fucking huge. I guess you weren't quite fast enough, huh?"

Marcus felt his stomach sink. “Fuck," he hissed. “That fucking drink? Really?"

“Afraid so, skinnie. Your eyes are the giveaway. Seems like it took a while to kick in, so you probably didn't get the full hit, but you're definitely gonna trip tonight."

“Goddamnit!" Marcus could sense it coming on, too. His thoughts were starting to blur around the edges, and his vision seemed to be shifting. The club's lights were brighter than usual, and the pounding music somehow even louder. At least it had done him the courtesy of waiting until after the meeting was over.

“I need to get home," Marcus growled.

Kailyn nodded. “Where are you parked?"

“Sublevel two," he answered without thinking.

“Alright, let's go."

It took him a moment to realise the hyena was leading him back down the stairs, supporting his unsteady gait with a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders. He considered objecting to her help, until he realised he'd probably be face down on the floor without it. Even then, the stairs were difficult, appearing to warp away from his feet every time he tried to reach them. The sensation was bizarre, and decidedly unwelcome.

The eclectic light show surrounding them wasn't helping matters. Pulsing holographic displays, impressive enough when sober, were downright mesmerising now. Simple coloured polygons collapsed into intricate fractal geometry before coalescing back into larger shapes again, repeating the cycle in perfect sync with the music. Marcus could barely drag his eyes away from the sight above him, and before he knew it, Kailyn had pulled him through the throng of people and out towards what he assumed to be an exit. One of the bouncers shot a knowing smirk in their direction, but said nothing.

Stepping out into the large bridging corridor was like entering a new world entirely and a welcome escape from the intensity of the club. He was still far from sober, but the calmer environment seemed to lessen things somewhat.

“Still with me, Marcus?"

“Hangin' in there," he grumbled. “This is not how I wanted tonight to go."

“Yeah, that stuff really fucks with your head," Kailyn said. She offered him a sympathetic look. “Best thing to do is just sleep it off. A few drinks doesn't hurt, either."

“Let's just get outta' here."

Kailyn loosened her grip on him, but didn't back off entirely as she guided him back the way he came, through the thankfully diminished crowds and towards the elevator. Marcus noticed time starting to blur together; almost like being drunk, and yet somehow entirely different.

As Kailyn half-dragged him along, he couldn't help but feel a sense of twisted irony. It seemed not so long ago that their positions were reversed. At least neither of them had been shot this time.

The elevator ride itself went by in an instant. In what felt like no time at all, the doors were opening, and Kailyn was helping him out onto the asphalt beyond. The cool air of the parking lot felt like heaven on Marcus' clammy skin, and he took in a deep, slow breath that seemed to echo into the night around them.

Thankfully, he was still clear headed enough to remember where he was parked.

“Thanks, Kailyn," he said, turning to face the hyena. “Think I can take it from here."

She raised an eyebrow, but released her grip on him anyway. “If you say so."

Marcus didn't know if the fresh air had reinvigorated him, or if his body was just adapting to his altered state, but he felt more able to walk on his own now. The human made his way -albeit slowly and methodically- across the underground lot, doing his best to ignore the subtle patterns that were starting to appear on the surfaces around him. Marcus could hear Kailyn's heavy footfalls not far behind, but held back from vocalising his exasperation at being treated like a kid. He was, after all, still undoubtedly fucked up.

Eventually he reached his bike, disengaging the engine lock with a touch of his hand, and lifted his helmet from where it was hung on the handlebar.

“Oh," Kailyn said.

Marcus turned back around, frowning. “What?"

The hyena folded her arms, and leaned against a nearby concrete pillar. “Guess I assumed I would be driving, but you seem to be a few wheels short for that."

“I can get myself home," he snapped.

“Like hell you can. Marcus, you can barely walk straight." She relaxed her posture slightly, giving a short huff. “I'm not about to let a man to whom I owe a life debt end up as a red smear along the side of the highway."

He wanted to argue, but stopped himself when he was struck by the stupidity of his actions. What was he thinking? Kailyn was right- he was in no state to drive anywhere right now. In a brief moment of clarity, Marcus realised just how much the drug was affecting his decision-making. It was a little worrying- he felt like he was still in control, but clearly he wasn't acting rationally.

That stuff really fucks with your head…

“…It's got autopilot?" Marcus tried.

Kailyn let out a single laugh. “And you trust it not to send you straight into oncoming traffic?"

He sighed. “Not particularly."

“Then that settles it," Kailyn said flatly. “You're riding with me. I'm guessing you'd rather not take the subway in your current state."

The idea of being trapped in a confined metal tube definitely didn't sit well with Marcus at the moment. “Yeah… It'd only get me halfway home, anyway."

The hyena nodded. “My car it is, then. Come on. I'm parked just across the lot."

Kailyn turned, and Marcus hesitated for a moment, looking back at his bike.

“It'll be safe here for one night. I can drive you back here tomorrow to pick it up."

The human weighed his options. He considered just finding a motel nearby to sleep it off until morning. Hell, Kailyn would probably offer him a couch -or, more likely, her bed- if he just asked.

Of course, Marcus couldn't do that. He'd promised Zera he would be back tonight, and the thought of her pacing around in a panicked mess was enough to make his heart ache, despite his misgivings.

But, the alternative… well, trying the autopilot was looking swiftly more attractive again.

The problem was simple- OPSEC. Marcus had gone to great pains over the years to become anonymous, and to maintain that status as best he could. That included purchasing his home under a false identity and with carefully laundered funds, as well as keeping his home address a close secret known only to himself.

Perhaps Carlos had been watching him; that was a potential flaw in Marcus' strategy, true, but it still didn't mean he should be any less cautious now. Quite the opposite, in fact, given the broker's rather ominous warning.

And that meant he really didn't want to show anyone else where he lived. Especially given who else was currently living there with him.

“Actually… I'll figure it out," he said. “Don't worry about me. Just go home."

“For fuck's sake, Marcus!" Kailyn snarled, baring her teeth. “Do you always have to be such a stubborn asshole? It wouldn't kill you to accept some goddamn help for once!"

She gestured pointedly at his bike, some of her anger dissipating. “That thing, however, just might. You're too fucked up to even realise you're fucked up."

Marcus found it hard to look her in the eye. “Why do you even care so much?" he asked, scowling. “We don't even speak in years, and now you're all over me like I'm your own damn pup? What the fuck do you have to gain here? And don't give me that 'life debt' bullshit again!"

Kailyn, to his surprise, didn't mirror his anger. Instead, she sighed, and stared down at the asphalt wearing an expression that was almost bitter.

“I used to consider you a friend, Marcus. Still do, actually, even if the feeling isn't mutual. I'm not going to let you die tonight because of something as stupid as this. So it's either you come with me willingly, or I carry you to the car."

He couldn't muster up a verbal response, as he felt the drug's effects starting to peak in intensity again. Some sensible part of his mind that remained unaffected knew that Kailyn was right.

The same part of him also felt terrible at questioning her motives like that. His shoulders sagged in defeat, the decision made.

Wordlessly, Marcus fumbled to open the seat compartment of his bike and retrieved his gun. He holstered the weapon in place at his waist before locking the bike once again, lifting the helmet and tucking it under his arm.

“…fine," Marcus muttered. “Your car."

Kailyn just barely smiled back at him.

***

The drive home that night was one of the strangest experiences of Marcus' life.

And that was saying a lot, considering recent events.

Kailyn's ride was a thing of beauty. Finished in gunmetal grey, it was all sharp angles and hard edges, and what it lacked in aerodynamics it more than made up for in style. One look was enough to tell Marcus that it had been modified endlessly; he couldn't even identify the original chassis, and wouldn't have been surprised if the car was entirely custom built.

He might have admired it more, if only it wasn't getting progressively harder for him to see straight.

After half-falling into the passenger seat, Marcus told Kailyn the address, and she punched it into the car's navigation system before pulling out of the parking lot. He'd still been sober enough to give her a false location, one that was only a couple of blocks away from his house but far enough to count as an acceptable compromise.

Not that he would reveal that to Kailyn. Yes, they had worked well together, and been through some tough shit in the past. But everyone had a price. And Marcus just didn't trust her quite that much.

He didn't trust anybody that much.

The hyena drove them up and out of the lot, back onto the main street level to join the slowly moving traffic leading to the highway. He remembered leaning back into his seat, thoughts growing more jumbled and disorganised as the drug coursing through his system kicked into high gear.

From then on, everything became a bit of a blur.

Marcus was vaguely aware of the world around him slowly dissolving, replaced by something altogether more abstract. His vision was overtaken by a swirling mass of kaleidoscopic colours and geometry, moving to music that might have been another hallucination itself. Eventually, he disconnected from his surroundings completely, becoming totally unaware of where he actually was or what he was doing.

In such an altered state, Marcus struggled to hold onto fragments of reality. Contradictory memories danced across his mind, and the human could no longer tell which were real, and which were not. Those conflicting identities swirled and crashed against one another like waves in a storm, melding together for only moments before splitting again, always leaving the most important question unanswered.

Who was Marcus?

A decent man, just trying to do some good in the world. A remorseless killer, who destroyed all that he touched. A friend. A criminal. A lover. A murderer.

It ate away at him. Gnawed at his very soul.

At some point, the human lost himself entirely among the shapes and the lights. Then, there was nothing. Only a universal nirvana remained, stretching endlessly until the end of time.

“Hey," said a voice, from somewhere in the distant void.

He recognised that voice.

“You're looking pale."

A name. It had a name.

She chuckled softly. “Yeah, been there myself. Look, if you gotta puke, warn me first. I just redid the upholstery a few weeks ago."

Marcus opened his eyes, and reality returned.

“…holy fuck…"

Kailyn laughed. “Pretty wild stuff, huh?"

“Where am I?" he mumbled.

“We're almost there. Hang tight."

Sure enough, when his foggy thoughts began to clear, Marcus recognised the street they were heading down. He was nearly home already.

“Fuckin' hell… how long have we been drivin'?"

“Long enough. Traffic was about what you would expect. You were out of it for like two hours solid."

Somehow, it felt as if he'd been gone for an immeasurably eternity, yet also for no time at all. Marcus tried to shake off the disorienting notion. He knew he'd have to process all of this later; right now he was just glad to be awake and still alive.

The remainder of the drive passed quickly. Marcus was definitely still tripping, but the experience was rather tame now compared to… whatever it was that happened to him earlier. Mostly, he just felt tired. His nose throbbed again, an uncomfortable reminder of events that now seemed like a lifetime ago.

Fuck, I need some sleep.

Eventually, Kailyn pulled over and gave Marcus a gentle nudge that roused him from his half-asleep stupor.

“We're here, apparently."

Long gone were the towering skyscrapers and blazing colours of the city centre; they had been replaced by quiet suburban streets, lined with trees and wide sidewalks that were entirely devoid of people at this late hour. The human mumbled out a thanks as he hastily undid his seatbelt, and reached for the door handle.

A firm paw caught his arm first, and Marcus turned to meet Kailyn's intense gaze. He swallowed.

“Want to know how I can tell this is a fake address?"

Kailyn thumbed towards the house they'd stopped in front of. The front lawn was heavily overgrown, with weeds pushing up through cracks in the driveway, and one of the front windows was boarded up with a rusted sheet of metal. Clearly, nobody had lived there in years.

“…ah."

“Nice try, though. Will you at least tell me how far you've to go from here?"

“It's… just a few blocks away. I'll manage it on foot."

The hyena sighed. “Fine. Guess I can live with that."

Marcus grabbed the door handle, but hesitated.

“You really didn't need to do this, you know."

“Like I told you earlier, Marcus," she said, straight-faced. “Friends."

The silence that passed between them was tense and awkward. Unable to think of something appropriate to say, Marcus stood and hauled himself out of the car.

“If it's any consolation, Kailyn," he finally said, pausing with one hand resting on the open door. “I never really considered anyone a friend."

The words tasted bitter in his mouth, however true they might have been. Kailyn's expression tightened. Her muzzle curled into a frown, and she gripped the steering wheel harder.

“You can be a real prick, Marcus. I hope you realise that."

He couldn't manage a retort and simply staggered off into the night.

***

Marcus wasn't quite sure how long it took him to walk the rest of the way home. It soon became clear that whatever was in the drugged drink wasn't done with him yet, and he was pretty sure he passed his house at least twice before finally getting his bearings. The repetitive monotony of suburbia didn't make navigating any easier; every wall and hedge looked eerily identical in his current state.

In the end, however, Marcus finally found himself shuffling up to his own front door, almost falling the final step as he slapped his hand onto the palm scanner. The ground wasn't quite steady yet, and he still had the distinct impression of swaying gently where he stood.

The door unlocked with a click, and he stumbled quickly inside, relief washing over Marcus as he took in the familiar sights of home. It was good to be alone again.

“Marcus!"

What.

Something otherworldly was staring back at him. Sleek and graceful, its neck was poised in an elegant curve, and two turquoise orbs set into its head regarded him keenly. What little dim illumination there was cascaded over shimmering scales, creating dappled waves of light that spiralled off into intricate fractal patterns, highlighting the stunning form of the being in front of him.

Marcus had never seen anything like it before.

“…beautiful…"

“Thank the gods, I was starting to get worried! You didn't tell me you'd be this la-"

Suddenly, the creature's ears flicked back against its head, and it looked oddly flustered. “W-wait, what was that you said?"

The human only stared back, dumbstruck.

“Er… are you alright, Marcus? You smell a bit like…" Her eyes widened as she stepped closer to him. “Blood! Marcus, you're hurt!"

“I… I'm fine," he managed, struggling to concentrate through the thick fog of confusion blanketing his mind. “Only a broken nose…"

“You don't look fine! Marcus, you can barely walk!"

He was certainly making hard work of getting to the couch. Every limb felt like it was weighed down by leaden weights as utter exhaustion finally took hold.

“Yeah. Jus' tired…"

Marcus slumped back into the cushions with a groan. He licked his lips, finding them dry and cracked.

The dragon observed him with a concerned expression. “I… suppose I can see the irony here, but are you sure you don't need any help?" she asked worriedly. “I'm much better, by the way. That… medicine of yours worked, just like you said…"

He looked at her for a long time.

“I know you, right?"

She actually flinched at that. “K-know me? Marcus, you… we… you've done a lot more than just know me! It's Zera! You must have been struck on the head… oh, what am I supposed to do?"

Realisation came like a hammer blow.

“…Zera!"

It all came back to him now, memories and emotions flooding his mind, as vivid and real as if he was experiencing them for the first time all over again. Quickly and instinctively, he leaned forward from his seat and pulled the dragon close with both arms, apparently to Zera's own surprise as she stumbled forward to meet him.

“Eep-!"

Marcus pressed himself against Zera's body. He felt her tense form gradually relax before something large and leathery wrapped around his own back and held him tight. With his head resting on her scaly shoulder, he closed his eyes, savouring the safety and comfort of Zera's warm embrace. After all that had happened tonight, the fighting and the chaos, this brief moment of peace felt like a tiny glimpse of heaven itself.

“…'s good to see you again, Zera… you're the best, you know?"

Her body quaked slightly against his own, and her breathing seemed to hitch. For a moment, Marcus thought he felt some sort of dampness on his own shoulder. Probably just the enduring effects of the trip, he reasoned.

“Actually," he murmured, “I could really do with some water right about now."

Zera quickly pulled back and loudly cleared her throat. “R-right! Water!"

She sniffed a couple of times and swiftly turned away towards the kitchen before he could say another word. The rattling of porcelain soon ensued, followed by the noise of running water and what sounded like a muffled expletive. Before long, Zera was back, awkwardly holding the lip of a wide bowl in her jaws as she carried it carefully towards him. Some spilled onto the floor before she managed to set it on the table, but he appreciated the effort regardless.

“S-sorry, I couldn't get you one of the proper drinking vessels… I'm still working on-"

“It's fine," he waved it off. “Seriously, thanks. I'm, uh…" he paused, trying to force his brain to work faster, “a little… fucked up tonight."

“You're hurt," Zera repeated. “I'm worried about you."

Marcus lifted the bowl with both hands, and drank deeply. The cold water was crisp and refreshing, and he savoured the sensation of it running down his throat. It also helped wash away the lingering taste of blood from his lips.

“Don't worry," he said, pausing to suck in a deep breath. “Just… need to sleep, I think. Should be all good in the mornin'."

The dragon's eyes brimmed with uncertainty, but after a moment, she gave him a begrudging nod. “Okay. But you have to explain all this to me tomorrow."

He set the bowl down. “Sure. We'll… we'll talk then. Now…"

Zera noticed it before he did. Her head whirled around in the direction of the door -the open door- and towards the hulking figure silhouetted against the streetlights outside.

His heart skipped a beat.

“Marcus…" Kailyn half-whispered as she took a slow step inside, her shoulders squared in a combat stance as she aimed her pistol straight at Zera. “Get away from that thing, slowly!"

Even through his drugged haze, Marcus felt cold horror descend. He wanted to believe this wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening, not now!

“K-Kailyn?" he stammered, fighting down a wave of panic. “What- how?"

“You left your door open," she hissed. “Now move! You hear me? This isn't a hallucination!" Marcus could see the hyena's fur standing on end. She was terrified.

But Marcus couldn't move. He was frozen to the spot in shock. In such a crucial moment, all of his skill and experience ultimately came to naught; he had no plan, no explanation that he could think of that could possibly salvage this unwinnable situation.

Kailyn had seen Zera. Zera had been seen, in his house!

There was no coming back from this.

A deep growl cut across his racing thoughts, and to Marcus' amazement, he saw Zera had already leapt into action. The dragon had stepped forward to place her body between Kailyn and himself, with her claws extended and maw open to reveal those wickedly sharp teeth of hers. Zera had her paws splayed in a defensive posture, and she unfurled her wings as much as the space around them would allow, with her hind legs visibly tensed as if she was preparing to jump.

She was defending him.

“Kailyn," Marcus swallowed. “Kailyn, put the gun down…"

“Who are you?" Zera snarled, with a vicious edge to her tone.

The hyena visibly recoiled when Zera spoke. Marcus instantly recalled his own, similar reaction when he'd first heard a Feral talk. Only this time he felt powerless to intervene as the situation rapidly spiralled out of his control.

“W-what? What the fuck?"

Zera pushed on. “I know a Two-leg weapon when I see one. That won't hurt me at all!"

Kailyn steadied her aim, though her fear was palpable as she stared at the dragon with wide, astonished eyes. Zera, he realised, might have misunderstood Kailyn's intent.

“Don't you dare try to hurt him!" Zera said. “You lay one claw on the human and I'll rip your worthless throat out!"

“Me, hurt him?" Kailyn spluttered. “Why would I- why would you-"

Her gaze darted back and forth between him and Zera, wild and uncomprehending.

Marcus realised, then, that he was still in possession of his own gun. Almost by instinct, he reached down and unholstered it. Within seconds, he found himself on his feet, the gun held tightly in both hands and pointed squarely at Kailyn, though his aim wavered as the combination of intoxication and fatigue took its toll.

Kailyn froze in place, still aiming her own gun at Zera, though her deep russet eyes were now locked onto Marcus. Or rather, the business end of his pistol.

“Kailyn. Drop it."

She looked up to meet his eyes again, and the expression on her snout settled on something between confusion and horror, with just a hint of betrayal.

Well, so much for OPSEC.

“Marcus, what the fuck is going on?"