Nathaniel was at Arkham's Works again.
He rubbed the side of his head.
"This is becoming a pattern."
He did not want it to become a pattern.
Anarch was secured to a chair, her body held in place by energized resin and synthesized metal. To his left, fragments of what were most likely parts of her armor lay scattered across a workbench.
Her bionic arm was there too.
Nathaniel glanced at it.
Then at her.
To him, she was a normal woman.
A highly dangerous woman, certainly.
But still a woman.
The fact that she was currently restrained by material he had synthesized himself was a testament to how dangerous she actually was.
He approached her with a small container of smelling salts.
Valerie would not have batted an eye at the situation.
After all, this was not entirely different from what she had already seen.
But this was different.
Anarch was unrelated to anything he was involved in.
She had been trying to kill him.
And yet he could not simply leave her in a position where she might disrupt the shipment he had been hired to protect.
He had done his job.
He had received his payment.
Now he had a prisoner.
Nathaniel sighed.
"Great."
He waved the smelling salts beneath her nose.
Anarch's eyes opened.
For a moment, she looked groggy.
Then she blinked.
And blinked again.
Her field of view had doubled.
The burning pain was gone.
She stared at the ceiling.
Then she looked down at herself.
Her skin.
Her arm.
Her body.
She moved her right arm toward the helmet hanging on the wall.
Her eyes widened.
Her armor was there too.
Racked neatly against the wall.
She looked back at Nathaniel.
And something in her expression changed.
Nathaniel noticed immediately.
"Oh, no."
He had seen that look before.
Not often.
But enough.
Anarch's breathing became frantic.
She looked at her hand.
Then her arm.
Then her leg.
Then she looked at him again.
Her right eye focused.
Her left eye focused.
She raised her hand to her face.
"No…"
Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
Nathaniel lowered the smelling salts.
"Uh."
She swallowed.
Then she looked at the prosthetic arm.
A rather expensive battle-grade prosthetic.
One she had spent years learning to live with.
One she had been told she would never replace.
One she had been told would never feel like her own.
She flexed the fingers.
They moved.
She could feel them.
Anarch's breathing slowed.
Then she laughed.
A short, disbelieving sound.
Nathaniel stared.
"Are you alright?"
She looked at him.
Her eyes were wide.
And there was something almost reverent in them.
Nathaniel's expression tightened.
"Okay. That's new."
She had sat through dozens of assertions that she would never be healed.
Dozens of specialists.
Dozens of treatments.
Dozens of people telling her that the Red Rot had done too much damage.
That the disease was too rare.
That the virus had affected the intricate biology that made her a Kodai.
That the damage to her armaments was permanent.
That the burning would never stop.
That her body would never return to what it had been.
She had eventually stopped listening.
Then she had gone off-grid.
Because if no one could heal her, the next best thing was to make sure no one could use her as a lab rat.
And now—
She was looking at a man who had restored her body.
Not with medicine.
Not with a machine.
With his own power.
Nathaniel shifted his weight.
"Look, I know this is probably a lot to take in—"
"My name is Mira."
He stopped.
She looked at him.
"Mira Kodai."
Nathaniel blinked.
"Right."
She smiled.
"I am Anarch."
Nathaniel stared at her.
"Yes. I got that part."
Her smile widened.
"And my life is yours."
Nathaniel choked on his spit.
"What?"
He coughed into his fist.
Mira watched him with an expression that was almost unsettling.
Not because she looked angry.
Because she looked happy.
Genuinely happy.
Nathaniel lowered his hand.
"Okay. Why?"
Mira stared at him.
As if he had just asked her why the sky was blue.
"Because you gave me my body back."
Nathaniel glanced toward the workbench.
Then at her.
"Right. But—"
She gestured toward the prosthetic arm.
"I lost my arm and most of my right side when I was infected with the Red Rot."
Her voice softened.
"I was going to lose my leg too."
Nathaniel's expression changed.
Mira continued.
"And now I can see through my left eye."
She touched the side of her face.
"It was blind for five years."
Nathaniel went quiet.
Mira looked down at her hand.
Then she flexed it again.
"I was nineteen when it happened."
She laughed softly.
"Life was supposed to be promising."
Her smile faded.
"Then the expedition happened."
She looked back at him.
"And everything stopped."
Nathaniel said nothing.
Mira's fingers tightened around the armrest.
"I was twenty-four when I finally gave up."
She looked at the prosthetic arm.
"And now…"
She swallowed.
"Now I feel like I'm twenty again."
Nathaniel rubbed his head.
"Jura be damned."
Mira smiled.
"Yeah."
He looked at her restraints.
Then at the workbench.
Then back at her.
"Okay. First of all, you're still a prisoner."
Mira nodded.
"Of course."
"Second, I didn't do this because I wanted a servant."
Her smile faltered.
Nathaniel sighed.
"I'm serious."
She looked at him.
He continued.
"hell I didn't heal you intentionally, you just got my blood on you and some how ingested a good chunk."
Mira stared.
Nathaniel shrugged.
"And because I didn't want to risk the cargo after dropping you you can igno9re lethal damage with that primary augment of yours."
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then her expression softened.
"That is worse."
Nathaniel blinked.
"What?"
"You really don't understand."
He rubbed his forehead.
"Apparently not."
Mira leaned back against the chair.
She slumped.
She looked at him with an almost disbelieving smile.
"You gave me my life back."
Nathaniel looked away.
"but you also took it away Mira Kodai also known as the mercenary anarch has no reason to keep going now that all clients wont recognize me or honour any debts."
He glanced toward the workbench cringing at the comment.
"I cant go home else ill be grilled on what the hell could reverse the red rot and end up locked up like an anomaly or re-exposed to the strain to test if I've built up an immunity to it."
Mira laughed.
A real laugh. Frantic laugh
Nathaniel looked back at her.
And for the first time since he had brought her here, he realized something.
She was not looking at him like a mercenary.
She was looking at him like someone who had just been handed a future but had also taken something from her as well, a person who once suffered from a native biome viral sample would surely become a target even considering how strong they were they could always be brought in in other ways.
Nathaniel sighed.
"fuck."
He pulled up a chair.
"what the hell do you want from me then?"
Mira stared at him.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Nathaniel waited.
The workshop was quiet except for the faint hum of machinery and the occasional hiss of a pressure valve somewhere behind them.
"What do I want?"
"Yeah."
Nathaniel leaned forward, resting his elbows against his knees.
"You're apparently convinced that your life belongs to me, which is a sentence I really don't want to hear again."
Mira's mouth twitched.
"Fair."
"And I don't need a servant."
"I know."
"You're a mercenary."
"Former mercenary."
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.
"Your changes invalidate my documents and identity."
"ok."
"So you're unemployed."
Mira looked almost offended.
"I prefer retired."
"Retired mercenary with no licence, no clients, no safe place to return to, and apparently a medical condition that everyone would kill to study."
Mira's smile faded.
"That's about right."
Nathaniel sighed.
"Then what?"
Mira looked down at her hands.
She opened and closed the fingers.
The movement was almost mesmerizing to her.
For five years, she had learned to compensate.
Every movement had required calculation.
Every step had carried an expectation of pain.
Every morning had started with the question of what part of her body would hurt or burn the most.
And the horrid taste of a curated drug cocktail meant to keep her functioning like a 9-5 worker's coffee.
And now there was nothing.
No burning.
No stiffness.
No dull ache crawling through her bones.
She could breathe without feeling like something was pressing against her ribs.
She could see.
Both eyes.
Mira slowly raised her hand toward her face.
"I want to live."
Nathaniel blinked.
"That simple?"
"That complicated."
She lowered her hand.
"I don't want to be Anarch anymore."
Nathaniel leaned back.
Mira continued.
"I don't want to take contracts. I don't want to kill people for money. I don't want to spend the rest of my life wondering whether the next job will be the one that leaves me dead in some alley."
Her gaze shifted toward the armor hanging on the wall.
"I became Anarch because I didn't have anything else."
Nathaniel remained quiet.
Mira looked at him.
"And now I do."
She gestured toward herself.
"I have a body that works."
Her voice cracked slightly.
"I have my eyes."
She looked at her arm.
"I have my arm."
Then she laughed again.
A small, disbelieving laugh.
"I can feel my fingers."
Nathaniel watched her.
There was something strange about seeing someone experience something so ordinary as a miracle.
Mira looked back at him.
"I don't know what to do with that."
Nathaniel scratched his cheek.
"Neither do I."
She smiled.
"Then we're even."
"Not really."
"No?"
"You're the one tied to the chair."
Mira glanced down.
"Technically, yes."
Nathaniel waved a hand.
"I'm going to release you eventually."
"Eventually?"
"After we figure out whether you're going to try shooting me again."
Mira considered it.
"No."
Nathaniel narrowed his eyes.
"No?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because you just restored my body."
She looked almost offended by the question.
"And because I tried shooting you once."
"Once?"
"Twice."
Nathaniel stared.
"You shot me more than twice."
"I was counting the rifle."
"You're counting the rifle?"
"Yes."
"That doesn't make it better."
Mira laughed.
Nathaniel rubbed his forehead.
"Jura help me."
The laughter faded.
Mira became serious again.
"I won't hurt you."
Nathaniel studied her expression.
He believed her.
Mostly.
He reached over and placed a hand against the resin.
The material softened.
Then dissolved.
Mira's arms dropped.
She rubbed her wrists.
Nathaniel remained ready.
Not threatening.
Just prepared.
Mira stood.
Slowly.
She expected pain.
Nothing came.
She took one step.
Then another.
Her breathing caught.
She walked across the workshop.
Then stopped.
She looked down.
Her right leg supported her perfectly.
No burning.
No weakness.
No creeping sensation.
Nothing.
She took another step.
Then another.
Eventually she began walking faster.
Nathaniel watched.
Mira reached the other side of the room.
She turned.
And ran.
Not fast.
Not yet.
But she ran.
Her footsteps echoed through the workshop.
She stopped suddenly.
Her chest rose and fell.
She looked at Nathaniel.
Tears were running down her face.
She laughed.
"I can run."
Nathaniel smiled faintly.
"Apparently."
"I haven't run properly in five years."
"I gathered."
She wiped her face.
Then she looked toward her armor.
Anarch's armor.
The white plating.
The damaged sections.
The weapons.
The identity.
Everything that had defined her for the last several years.
She walked toward it.
Her fingers touched the breastplate.
For a moment, she simply stood there.
Then she removed her hand.
"I don't need it anymore."
Nathaniel looked at the armor.
"You might want to keep it."
Mira glanced at him.
"Why?"
"Because you were an S-rank mercenary."
She frowned.
"And?"
"And people might still recognize the armor."
Mira's expression changed.
Nathaniel continued.
"You don't get to erase what you were just because you're done with it."
He gestured toward the equipment.
"Someone will recognize that armor eventually."
Mira nodded slowly.
"Then I'll get rid of it."
"Not yet."
"Why?"
"Because I want to know exactly what that thing can do."
Mira stared.
Nathaniel pointed toward the damaged bionic arm.
"And that."
She looked at the arm.
"That's my old one."
"Your old one?"
"Yes."
Nathaniel walked toward the workbench.
He picked it up carefully.
"It's impressive."
"It was expensive."
"I can tell."
He rotated it in his hand.
"Your armament was integrated into it?"
"Partially."
"Interesting."
Mira watched him.
"You're going to take it apart?"
"Probably."
She smiled.
"You're a strange man."
"So I've been told."
Nathaniel placed the arm back down.
Then his expression became serious.
"There is another problem."
Mira's smile disappeared.
"The Red Rot."
"Exactly."
Nathaniel folded his arms.
"I don't know exactly what happened."
"You said your blood healed me."
"Not exactly."
"You said I ingested your blood."
"A lot of it."
Mira stared.
Nathaniel continued.
"Your awakened State drained your reserves after you blew my face and part of my upper body. My regeneration kicked in. Your body was covered in my blood. You swallowed some. and the influx of my body's. regeneration function essentially restored your body to its prime functional state"
He tapped his chest.
"It apparently interacted with the disease."
Mira looked thoughtful.
"So you're saying your blood cured it?"
"No."
Nathaniel shook his head.
"I'm saying I have absolutely no idea what happened."
Mira's expression became serious.
"That makes you valuable."
"Very."
"Dangerously valuable."
"Extremely."
She looked toward the ceiling.
"Then I can't go back."
Nathaniel cursed himself at the flaw in his logic
He looked at her damaged under suit still covered in patches of burns and shredded fabric hell his and her blood dyed some sections a shade of burgundy instead of the uniform black,
He sighed as he simply thought about what ginah would say.
"Fine , you'll live with me but make yourself useful around the place and don't bug any of my roommates till I get you set up."
Mira stared at him.
"Live with you?"
Nathaniel immediately regretted the wording.
"Temporarily."
"Temporarily," she repeated.
"Until we figure out what the hell to do with you."
Mira glanced around the workshop.
"And your roommates?"
"Don't bug them."
"Who are they?"
"People."
"That narrows it down."
Nathaniel rubbed his forehead.
"Look, I don't know how long this is going to take. I don't know if your body will stay stable, if the Red Rot is actually gone, or if someone is going to come looking for you."
Mira's expression hardened.
"It won't."
"You don't know that."
"No," she admitted. "I don't."
Nathaniel looked toward the workbench.
The damaged components of her armor sat beside the bionic arm, still stained with blood and residue from the fight.
"We're going to find out."
Mira looked at him.
"And if it comes back?"
"Then we deal with it."
"You say that like it's simple."
"It isn't."
Nathaniel turned toward her.
"But panicking about it won't make it easier."
She studied him for a moment.
"You really are terrible at comforting people."
"I'm not trying to comfort you."
"I noticed."
"I'm trying to keep you alive."
Mira's expression softened.
"That counts."
Nathaniel looked away.
"Don't make it weird."
"Too late."
He pointed toward the exit.
"Come on."
Mira followed him out of the workshop, still glancing at her hands every few steps as though expecting them to stop working.
The corridor beyond Arkham's Works was dimly lit, lined with storage rooms, repair bays, and sealed doors marked with warning symbols. The air smelled of oil, metal, and old electricity.
Mira walked beside him.
"So where exactly am I staying?"
"Somewhere with a bed."
"That's reassuring."
"It's also temporary."
"You've mentioned that."
"Because you keep looking at me like this is permanent."
Mira smiled.
"I haven't decided yet."
Nathaniel stopped walking.
"Decided what?"
"Whether I'm staying."
"You just said you can't go back."
"I can't go back to my old life."
"That doesn't mean you have to live with me."
Mira looked at him.
"Then where should I go?"
Nathaniel opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Mira nodded.
"That's what I thought."
He exhaled through his nose.
"Fine. But there are rules."
"Of course there are."
"No stealing."
"I don't steal."
"You tried to steal my life."
"That was different."
"No shooting anyone inside the building."
"I wasn't planning to."
"No shooting anyone inside the building."
"I wasn't planning to."
"No activating your augment without telling me."
Mira's expression became slightly more cautious.
"That might be difficult."
"Then we work on it."
"And if it activates by itself?"
"Then you tell me before it turns the living room into a crater."
Mira nodded.
"Reasonable."
Nathaniel gave her a doubtful look.
"Good. Let's get you some clothes."
He led her through the residential section and toward the far end of the facility, where a large reinforced garage occupied the last bay.
The doors groaned as he opened them.
Inside sat a massive red SUV.
It was less a vehicle and more a heavily armored mobile bunker. Its reinforced frame was broad enough to make the garage seem smaller, while thick plating covered the doors, roof, and wheel arches. The windows were reinforced and layered with dark ballistic glass.
Mira stopped beside it.
"What the hell is that?"
"My car."
"That is not a car."
"It has wheels."
"That doesn't make it a car."
Nathaniel walked around to the driver's side and unlocked it.
Mira examined the reinforced bodywork.
"Why is it built like a tank?"
Nathaniel opened the door.
"Because of my weight."
She looked at him.
"Your weight?"
"I'm a lot heavier than I look."
Mira glanced at his broad frame.
"You're already built like a wall."
"Yeah, well, the wall weighs more than expected."
"How much?"
Nathaniel paused.
"Enough that normal suspension systems start complaining."
Mira looked at the SUV again.
"And this thing can handle it?"
"Barely."
"Barely?"
"It was reinforced."
"By the dealership?"
"Mostly."
Mira looked impressed despite herself.
Nathaniel gestured toward the passenger seat.
"Get in."
She climbed inside, carefully lowering herself into the seat. The interior was spacious, reinforced, and surprisingly comfortable. The dashboard had been modified with several additional displays, while the floor and seat frames were clearly designed to withstand far more punishment than an ordinary vehicle.
Nathaniel shut his door and started the engine.
The SUV rumbled to life.
Mira looked toward him.
"You built this?"
"Modified it."
"Why?"
"Because I got tired of vehicles breaking and as a knight im cautious."
"That sounds expensive."
"It was."
"And you still drive it?"
"It's reliable."
Mira looked at the armored windshield.
"It's practically a fortress."
"That's the point."
Nathaniel shifted the vehicle into gear and drove toward the open garage doors.
the journey took 20 minutes when he got home
He was not prepared to see Valarie standing at the entrance.
Her white eyes remained fixed on him.
For once, there was no detached calm or the strange focused look in her expression.
Only honest surprise.
Beside her stood Ginah.
The moment Ginah saw Mira, her expression tightened.
Her eyes moved over the ripped, blood-stained undersuit visible beneath Nathaniel's jacket.
Then they returned to him.
She sighed.
"Of course."
"Hi."
Ginah's eyes narrowed.
"Get out."
Nathaniel looked at Mira.
"Stay here."
Mira glanced between them.
"That sounds ominous."
"It is."
Nathaniel walked into the apartment along with Mira and closed the door behind him.
Ginah approached with the measured patience of someone trying very hard not to commit a crime.
"Did you fuck with her mind like you did Valarie?"
Nathaniel blinked.
"What?"
"Two," Ginah continued, raising a finger. "Were you defending yourself or doing a job that was off the books?"
"Nobody is—"
"And three."
Her eyes began to glow a threatening shade of jade.
"Don't tell me you got mortally wounded, because I'll kill you if you do."
Nathaniel stared at her.
Valarie remained silent, her white eyes still glued to him.
Mira slowly backed away
"Is this normal?"
Nathaniel did not look back.
"No."
Ginah's gaze sharpened.
"Answer me."
Nathaniel raised both hands.
"First, I didn't alter her mind."
Ginah looked toward Mira.
"Can you confirm that?"
Mira leaned slightly toward the open window.
"I don't think so."
Ginah's expression darkened.
"You don't think so?"
"I was unconscious for most of it."
Nathaniel pointed at her.
"See? That's not a useful answer."
"I'm doing my best."
Ginah turned back to Nathaniel.
"Second?"
Nathaniel sighed.
"Off-the-books job."
Ginah closed her eyes.
"Of course it was."
"I was hired to escort a shipment."
"By whom?"
"An employer."
"Name."
"Confidential."
"Nathaniel."
"Ginah."
Her jade glow intensified.
He immediately continued.
"An independent client. High-grade Rivechalcam shipment. high A-rank security contract. The cargo was delivered."
Ginah stared at him.
"You took a high-risk mercenary job without telling anyone."
"I told Valerie."
Valarie's eyes shifted toward him.
"You told me you were experimenting with an identity change."
Nathaniel grimaced.
"Yeah, well, the experiment escalated."
Ginah looked past him toward the case Mira was holding
"Is that her armor in there?"
Nathaniel glanced over his shoulder.
A damaged section of Mira's white armor was visible through the rear compartment.
"Some of it."
Ginah's eyes narrowed.
"And the woman?"
"Mira."
"Anarch?"
"Formerly."
Ginah's expression became dangerously still.
"Why is a S-rank mercenary wearing your jacket and standing in apartment?"
Nathaniel opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Valarie finally spoke.
"She looks healthy."
Ginah turned toward her.
Valarie's white eyes remained fixed on Mira.
"Healthy?" Ginah repeated.
Mira slowly raised her restored right hand.
"Hello."
Ginah stared at the arm and they way it moved and moved just a bit to fast.
Then at Mira's eyes.
The fact that she held her face in a way that one eye was position as a primary method of sight based on her head position.
Her irritation faltered.
"What happened?"
Nathaniel rubbed the back of his neck.
"long story short I cured the red rot."
Ginah's gaze snapped back to him.
"Don't start."
"I genuinely don't know."
"You're covered in blood."
"mine ."
"Your jacket is covered in blood."
"both mine and hers."
"Your face was missing."
"Temporarily."
Ginah's eye twitched.
Valarie's expression shifted slightly.
"Temporarily?"
Nathaniel pointed at her.
"Don't encourage her."
Ginah stepped closer.
"Explain."
Nathaniel glanced toward Mira.
Mira gave him a small, apologetic shrug.
He sighed.
"I fought her during the escort job. She used some kind of State ability. Blew apart part of my upper body."
Ginah's jade eyes flared.
Nathaniel quickly added, "MAX-REGEN restored me."
"That is not the part I was worried about."
"I know."
"You said you weren't going to take unnecessary risks."
"I didn't."
"You got your upper body blown apart."
"That's not necessarily unnecessary."
Ginah looked like she was about to hit him.
Nathaniel continued before she could.
"She was infected with Lethal Red Rot. Her augment entered a rest period during an expedition five years ago. The disease destroyed most of her right side, blinded one eye, and damaged her arm."
Mira's expression grew quieter.
Nathaniel continued.
"During the fight, she was exposed to my blood. Some of it got into her system. After my regeneration activated, something happened."
"Something?"
"my power restored her body."
Ginah stared at him.
Valarie looked toward Mira again.
Mira flexed her fingers.
"I can see through both eyes now."
Ginah's face went pale with realization.
"That's impossible."
"Apparently not," Nathaniel muttered.
Ginah stepped closer to Mira.
"Are you in pain?"
"No."
"Any numbness?"
"No."
"Internal burning?"
"No."
"Loss of motor control?"
Mira shook her head.
"Nothing."
Ginah looked at Nathaniel.
"You cured Lethal Red Rot?"
"No."
"You just said—"
"I said something happened. I don't know if it cured the disease, suppressed it, rewrote her biology, or temporarily forced her body into a restored state."
Ginah stared at him.
Nathaniel spread his hands.
"I'm not a healer."
"You have MAX-REGEN."
"That's not a healing augment."
"It is now."
Mira lowered the window further.
"Can I come inside before the interrogation gets worse?"
Ginah looked at her.
"You're staying here?"
Nathaniel answered immediately.
"Temporarily."
Ginah turned slowly toward him.
"Why?"
"Because she can't go home."
"Why not?"
"Because if anyone finds out what happened, they'll dissect her."
Mira's expression hardened.
"Or worse."
Ginah's anger faded.
She looked at Mira's ruined undersuit, then at the arm she kept touching as if reassuring herself it was real.
Valarie stepped forward.
"You can stay."
Nathaniel looked at her.
Ginah turned sharply.
"Valarie—"
"She has nowhere else to go," Valarie said. "And Nathaniel caused this situation."
Nathaniel pointed at her.
"I did not cause the Red Rot."
"You caused her current situation."
He lowered his hand.
"Technically."
Ginah pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Fine."
Nathaniel blinked.
"Fine?"
"She can stay."
Mira exhaled quietly.
"But," Ginah continued, pointing directly at Nathaniel, "you are responsible for her."
Nathaniel looked offended.
"I already was."
"Then you can continue being responsible."
Mira smiled.
Ginah's eyes immediately moved over her posture, watching for signs of pain.
Mira stood straight.
No tremor.
No stiffness.
No hesitation.
Valarie watched her closely.
Mira looked between them.
"I appreciate the hospitality."
Ginah's expression remained stern.
"Don't make me regret it."
"I'll try."
Nathaniel muttered, "That's what everyone says before making my life worse."
Mira looked at him.
"You invited me."
"I know."
"You said I could stay."
"I know."
"You said I should make myself useful."
Ginah's eyes narrowed.
Nathaniel slowly turned toward Mira.
"Don't."
Mira smiled faintly.
"I was just going to ask what needs cleaning."
Valarie's white eyes shifted toward Nathaniel.
Ginah folded her arms.
Nathaniel stared at Mira for several seconds.
Then he sighed.
"Jura help me."
Mira's smile widened.
"That's a yes, then?"