Zion didn't slow down his pace after leaving the warehouse district.
Following the map projected in his vision, he cut through narrow streets and paths, deliberately avoiding the brighter, more crowded routes.
Despite his precautions, the stares from everyone he passed were inevitable.
Blood had soaked into his clothes, dried in some places and fresh in others. Metal shards were still embedded in his body, and the stench of burnt metal and blood followed him with every step.
"A few more minutes…" he mumbled under his breath.
A low, flickering neon sign finally came into view at the end of the street. On it sat a simple name in cyan colors—Motel Dar.
Though it looked run-down, Zion stepped inside it without slowing down. He ignored the strange look the clerk gave him and rented a room for a single night.
Only after he locked the door to his room behind him did he finally let out a deep sigh.
"Safe for now," he mumbled, dropping the bundle of weapons beside the wall.
Next, he took off all his clothes and dumped them in a corner.
"Uriel, can you point out what I need to do now?" he asked, staring at the metal shards embedded in his skin.
[It's best if host removes the larger fragments manually,] Uriel said. [I'll highlight each one for easy removal.]
As Zion stepped in front of the mirror, several markers lit up in his vision, each one pinpointing a shard still lodged in his flesh. He studied them for a moment before tightly gripping the first shard.
It was lodged just below his collarbone, no bigger than his pinkie, but buried deep enough to hurt. He clenched his jaw and pulled it out in one go.
A sharp sting ran through him as the shard came free and clattered into the sink. Blood followed from the wound, but only for a moment before the nanosuit tightened the flesh around it.
He repeated the process with the others, delicately pulling them out one by one. By the time he finished, a small pile of twisted metal laid inside the sink.
He exhaled slowly.
"What about the smaller pieces?"
[Those will be handled automatically,] Uriel replied. [Nanobots are already isolating and destroying the fragments while repairing surrounding tissue.]
Zion nodded, a quiet breath leaving him.
"How long until I'm back to normal?"
[Surface-level wounds will heal within two hours,] Uriel answered. [Deeper wounds will require approximately one day, while the burned tissue on your left arm will take several days to fully regenerate.]
Zion glanced at his arm, the melted skin disfigured.
"Figures."
He stepped into the shower and turned the water on hot, letting it wash the blood and grime away as the nanobots went to work.
As the water poured over him, Uriel's voice echoed in his mind.
[Host, if I may ask, why did you not deploy your gravity wings during the last fight?]
Zion didn't answer right away. He leaned his head back slightly, letting the hot water run over his face.
"It wasn't worth it," he said at last.
"The wings take fifteen percent of my energy to activate and nearly five percent for each second after that," he continued. "Sure, I could've caught them off guard and killed a few by draining myself."
He paused for a moment.
"But what then? What if another group of enemies had shown up while my energy was drained?"
The last thing he wanted was to gamble with his life just to kill a bit faster.
There was only one thing he could really use it for at his current rank, which was against a single stronger opponent. A split second of hesitation could be the end of a fight like that, after all.
[Understood,] Uriel responded, voice low. [Your assessment was indeed sound.]
As Uriel's words faded, only the sound of water hitting tile remained.
Zion stayed there for a moment, eyes closed, letting the water loosen his body as the sting in his wounds dulled. The burning sensation in his arm never faded, but at least it became bearable.
"That's better," he muttered, opening his eyes again.
He stepped out of the shower and reached for his clothes—then stopped.
"…Right."
With nothing clean left, he wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped back into the room.
A few minutes and some credits later, a clerk showed up with a plain set of motel clothes. The fabric was cheap and a little loose, but it would do.
Before Zion put them on, he glanced at the wall socket beside the bed.
"How much is it to charge here?" he asked, staring at the clerk.
"It's sixty credits per hour, sir," the clerk responded calmly.
Zion's eyes widened.
'That's highway robbery,' he thought. 'Still… I would like some extra charge.'
The unease in his chest hadn't faded since the fight ended, pushing him to play it safe.
"It's the cheapest in the area," the clerk continued with a smile.
"Of course it is," Zion answered, waving his hand. "Can I pay for three hours of charge right now?"
The clerk looked surprised, but quickly bowed.
"Naturally, I'll get a transfer card right away!"
After the clerk left, Uriel's voice sounded in his mind again.
[Our current energy levels are at seventy percent. Wouldn't it be better to just recharge at the mercenary guild for free tomorrow?]
Zion shook his head, doubt on his face.
"It's probably better," he answered truthfully. "But I'm worried something will happen tomorrow."
[Understood,] Uriel responded quickly. [Given your concern, the expense makes sense.]
It didn't take long before the clerk came back, holding a crystal card nearly the size of his hands. Above the crystal card, a hologram was projected, asking Zion to authorize the payment.
After Zion paid, the clerk bowed slightly once again with a smile.
"Thank you for your contribution."
A vein popped up on Zion's forehead, irritated by the clerk's smug attitude.
"…Contribution, huh," he muttered under his breath.
The clerk either didn't hear it, or chose not to, and quickly stepped out of the room.
Zion exhaled slowly and turned to the wall socket. He plunged the charging cable into his arm and threw himself onto the mattress.
'Tomorrow will be quite the day,' he thought, closing his eyes. 'I hope this bad feeling is wrong.'