Five Years before the Volta job


    Seras strode through an alley, trash and refuse squished under her boots. A bum rose at her approach, but he saw the gun at her hip and wisely pretended to not notice. She absently scratched at her neck, the metal fingers of her cheap-ass arms came back with red blood in the tips.


    Dammed cheap fucking fabric. Her coat was supposed to keep the rain off her, but while the fabric looked right it obviously wasn’t properly treated. She was going to make sure the tailor-made proper recompense. Then she needed to see about finally replacing the last of her exposed meat. Just her torso was left.


    She found herself at a metal door. She knocked out the code, then waited. No one came. She started pounding on the door.


    “I heard you; I heard you” a muffled voice shouted. The door opened and the wiry form of Cash appeared with a gun to Seras’ head.


    “Easy Cash, I got the grub.” Seras said without even glancing at the pistol.


    “Meat Dogs?” He asked.


    “Yup, and just as a side, these things fuckin reek, I don’t know how you stand them. They’re not even synth-meat. They’re just algae that smells like it’s been boiled gutter water.”


    “A fuck you, these things are delicious.” He said while withdrawing his gun and letting her step in.


    Seras wasted no time as she stepped in. The place was a rat-hole, and no amount of rat-thrax and air fresheners would fix that. Seras wished she had replaced her nose when she got face plate in. But Cash had needed money to pay off some punks so she had to settle with just a surface replacement and new optics.


    Some fucker had splashed gutter water on her with their bike and the acids in it were starting to make her go blind.


    “Is the brat still cryin’?” She asked as she set the food on the table and heard the distant wails.


    “Yeah, little snot won’t shut up, I even tried threats.”


    Seras sighed. “You dumb ass, kid’s six. Threats aint gonna work.”


    “Well, what do you want from me, I aint no nanny.” He groused.


    “Let me try, and if you touch my dumplings I will fucking end you.”


    Seras stepped past the little sleeping cots she and Cash had been using for since they started this job. She pressed the panel to the room that used to be their bedroom, and it slid to the side.


    The moment it opened a small body tried to rush out. But Seras had been expecting this and had stooped down to catch their hostage. “Seriously, if the first time didn’t work why would you think the fourth time would?” she asked the thrashing little meat bag in her metal hand.


    “Let me go, I wanna go home!” the girl cried.


    “Yeah, yeah, you’ll go home as soon as your daddy pays up.” Seras said as she set the kid back down on the bed that had been hers. “I brought grub, would you like the razzle-dazzle flavor, or Very Berry?”


    The six-year-old crossed her arms. “those aren’t flavors. My daddy said those are chemicals the poor buy to fill their stomach because they can’t afford real food.”


    “Your right, but seeing as you’re the prisoner of poor people your gonna have to eat this or go hungry.”  Seras shoved the razzle-dazzle flavored one in the kid''s lap.


    “I want to go home. I want my daddy.” The child pouted.


    “So I’ve heard” Seras said in a weary tone. “Look I told you, once the cops give up on finding you and your daddy pays up you’ll be let go. Shouldn’t be too much longer.” Seras said.


    It had already been six days, and the way the Mantle PD were stretched with the recent gang war they should be close to breaking.


    The girl looked down. “And what if he doesn’t pay?” she said for the first time.


    Seras scowled. “Why wouldn’t he pay up, you’re his kid.”


    “He says I’m not.” The kid muttered.


    “What was that?”


    The kid looked up and glared at Seras “He says mommy was a cheating whore, and that I’m not his.”


    Seras felt a bad feeling in her stomach.


    That moment she heard a curse from the kitchen. “Gods dammit!” Cash swore.


    Seras stepped out. “What?”


    Cash looked pissed as he stared into the middle distance. “Bastard just texted; says he’s not paying.”


    “Shit, really?”


    “Yup, and I think he’s serious. He said that when we kill the brat, we should make it quick.”


    “Fuck!” Seras cursed. “Fuck, Fuck, FUCK! What do we do?”


    Cash’s face went blank, “We do what we promised.” He said calmly.


    “She’s a fucking kid Cash, you said there was no chance we’d have to actually kill the brat. You said it would be a quick and easy money.”


    “For fucks sake Seras, I lied. There''s always a chance these corpo shits will just cut their losses and try to bang out another kid with a new wife.” He shouted.


    “Okay, but we don’t have to kill the kid!” she shouted back, trying to get him to see reason.


    Cash looked distant though. He pulled out his iron, a custom piece he had commissioned with a glossy black finish with blue glowing lines. “Yes we do.” He said. “Or else they never believe us the next time.”


    He stepped forward, raised his gun and… and fell onto his face, a gaping hole were his brain used to be.


    Seras blinked at the smoking gun in her hand, the twin to the one Cash had commissioned for them.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    She didn’t even remember drawing.


    She leaned down and picked up the gun from her dead friend. “Come on kid.” Seras said, her voice a thousand miles away.


    “Do I get to go home?” the kid asked in a fragile voice.


    “Your dad just told us to be quick about killing you I don’t think you want to go back.” Seras said sharply. Her temper rising.


    “Oh, okay.” The kid said as she walked over to Seras.


    She put her coat on the kid and left the apartment, not even glancing back at her dead friend.


    ~~~*~~~


    Seras had found a dark corner to collapse in. She had ran from Dustin in a panic, activating her active camo to suppress her aura.


    That was how she had survived the Silver ranked golem. The active camo somehow masked her aura, without the monster would have killed her.


    Maybe she should have let it. What difference did it make if Blackiron died in space or while fighting some monster in another dimension. Both would have been better than this.


    She didn’t even know what it was Knowledge had said that made her react this way. Maybe it was the implication that she was a monstrosity, or maybe it was the fact that there was no cure for her. That with every step forward she would be putting herself in greater and greater pain.


    Maybe it was because all her efforts would always prove to be pointless.


    Ever since coming into this world Seras had one set back after another. The first essence power she got was useless, the skill and power she used to have was only barely enough to let her scrape by, and her attempt to strike out on her own ended with her skewered by some drunken asshole and shoved in a jail cell.


    And then when she was finally starting to accept her place in this new world, when she was finally accepting the idea of magic and being an adventurer, she found out that her very existence was incompatible with the power she had allowed into her soul.


    Seras pulled up her knees and rested her head against them. And then, despite how badly she didn’t want to cry, hot tears found their way to the surface.


    It should not have been possible, she didn’t have tear ducts, she shouldn’t be physically capable of crying.


    It was likely some sort of magic bullshit that bypassed the physical limitation of her body.


    It just made her cry all the harder.


    ~~~*~~~


    Night fell over the city, but Seras didn’t move. She couldn’t find the energy to get up. So instead she just stayed in that alley, crushed by the weight of the world.


    She used to scoff at all the bums who fell into an unshakable depression. The kind who could only find the energy to eat garbage just to prolong their misery. She used to think herself so above them, but now she got it.


    Seras was determined to stay there for the rest of the night, maybe even the rest of the week. She couldn’t face Dustin and the crew. They had faith that she would find her way on this strange world, but she was broken. No amount of encouragement would fix that.


    Footsteps snapped her out of herself pity.


    “Stay back fucker, or I’ll blast your head off!” Seras snarled down the dark alley.


    She could just make out a short wiry silhouette. “With what power?” the figure scoffed “All you have is a glowing finger and an ability to make yourself more durable.”


    The voice was familiar, and the fact that he knew her only two functional essence abilities narrowed down the options.


    Seras flicked on her night vision and confirmed her suspicions. “the fuck do you want, Flint?


    Flint stepped in closer. “Is that how you treat someone who spent the whole dammed day searching for you.”


    Seras looked at her knees “I didn’t ask to be found.” She muttered.


    “Too bad.” Flint shot back. “After you ran off Dustin had all of us searching the city for you. Dustin and Dallas are searching the bars, Chase and Garrette are checking in at the gates, Frank and Rohan are checking the local lockups, and Petra is making sure you didn’t try to buy passage on a ship out of the city.”


    Seras glared at the Elfin man. All of those options hinted at one thing… “If you were so sure I’d bolt or cause trouble then why’d you even bother trying to find me?”


    Flint glared back “Because Dustin has certain views of responsibility. When he decides to help someone he makes dammed sure they can’t refuse, especially when they’re as lost as you are.”


    “I didn’t ask for help.” Seras muttered.


    “Yup, and that’s why Dustin is so intent on helping yeah. You’ve had a hard life, and he knows that people like you always shy away from healthy coping mechanisms or just flat out run away from support structures. He and I are geezers compared to you, and we’ve seen our fair share of emotionally brittle loners.”


    “I’m not a loner, I had friends before.”


    “No, you had colleagues and associates. I bet you wouldn’t even care if they died on ya.”


    “I do care!” She snapped.


    “Oh yeah, what were the names of your companions on your last job. Because while you’ve talked at length about the station and how you got there I haven’t heard you mention their names even once. They’re all dead, aren’t they.”


    “We all knew the risks going in. We covered each other as best as we could but sometimes things don’t work out.” Seras muttered. He was right though, she hadn’t even thought about them once, her life had just been too complicated.


    “That attitude is why your unworthy of Dustin’s kindness. You don’t even care about all the pains he went through to make you feel welcome. I bet you don’t even know how often he’s had to have talks with the crew over the things you say.”


    She didn’t, she didn’t even know that some of the crew had issues with the things she said. “Yeah, well, I guess you were right.” Seras said in defeat, her anger and spite gone, in its place only weariness. “I’m broken Flint, I cant be fixed.”


    Flint walk forward and stood next to her. “So the goddess said there was no cure?” his tone had far less venom in it now.


    “Nope. I can either have my essences stripped out of my soul, or I can replace my body with something less monstrous.”


    Flint sat next to her. “I’ve never heard you think of your… strange body as monstrous.”


    “Knowledge showed me something. Lichs, vampires, Zombies, and wraiths are all aberrations caused by the death essence right. It’s the reason the essence is banned and the users are to be killed on sight. Well there’s a combo, Death, iron, and tech that makes the Cyborg confluence.” Seras put a hand to her chest “That’s what I am, just without the essences. Hell, I could have gone full in, Tech, metal, and Death were the first three essences I came across. Maybe I wouldn’t have this soul crushing disconnect if I had used them.”


    “You said the Goddess offered to replace your body, I assume that means it she would have made you a normal body. Why not take it?”


    “Besides all the strings attached? Because I wouldn’t be me. It would be like trying to cover you in fur and call you a leonid.”


    Flint looked uncomfortable “there are people out there who do that.”


    Seras huffed a laugh “We have those on my world too. We call them Beasties.”


    Flint gave her a look. “We just call them strange.” He reprimanded. “Would it really be that bad? You were human before.”


    “Yeah, and I had to watch my body fail me at every turn. My skin became red and raw every time it rained, it sometimes even bled and then got infected. I had roaches break into my bedroom and try to eat me alive. I felt my lungs dying with every breath. Hell, I went blind just before I got some new eyes. If I hadn’t already had the appointment scheduled I may never have gotten them replaced. The flesh is weak, and it will always fail you. Muscles snap, bones break, even the brain is subject to the whims of nature. I would never be happy going back to that.


    “Cybernetics are like, my world’s version of essences. Getting them makes you better in almost every conceivable way. They become a part of who you are. Would you ever go back to being normal just because someone called your essences unnatural?”


    “I seem to recall you doing just that.” Flint muttered.


    “Yeah, and I was fuckin wrong.” Seras shot back. “I didn’t really feel it with the Tech essence, but with metal I felt… some sort of connection. I can’t explain why, but I feel like I was always meant to find it somehow. Like it fills a hole in me I never knew I had. I can even feel the absence in my self where two other essences should be.”


    Flint was quiet until he nodded. “We often feel the same way. Some of us who have only one or two essences start to feel that hole in a very uncomfortable way. I had my first essence for six years before I got the second.”


    Seras nodded. “I feel like that giving up on any part of myself would break me, my essences or my chrome. But if I want to survive I need to make that choice.”


    “And how does sitting in the dark avoiding your friends help you make that decision?”


    “It doesn’t” Seras admitted. “But facing any of you seemed like too much. I’m not used to feeling, accepted, or even wanted. Not in the same way you guys show me.”


    “Your parents died when you were young right. I take the rest of your life was devoid of any positive relationships after that.”


    “I had a friend, but he… we… I… it didn’t end well.” Seras felt herself getting choked up remembering Cash.


    It would have been bad if he had died to someone else’s hand, it would have been bad if he attacked Seras and she was just defending herself. But her shooting him in the back of the head to save a kid she barely even knew; it didn’t even leave her with the deception of closure. She had killed him because he would have killed the kid, and Seras didn’t want that on her conscious. It was a purely selfish decision that had haunted her for years.


    “I don’t want to know, every story you tell just leaves me restless. Your whole world is one grand tragedy.”


    “Isn’t that just how life works?” Seras asked.


    Flint scowled “No, and its that sort of mind set that makes me hate you. There’s more to life than pain and loss. But what I was getting at before is that you haven’t had any positive connections in your life, no one to trust. And the idea of that scares you. I get it. Its easier to be a closed book and to walk through life alone than open up. But its also more miserable. Miserable for you, and everyone you meet. You reject their offers of friendship and keep yourself at a distance.”


    “I don’t do that-”


    “You tried to run away that first night, and then you tried to leave us at Karstess. When Petra tried to be indignant on your behalf you shut her down, said that life sucks and there’s no point in feeling upset. You still only know us on a surface level and we’ve been traveling together for a month. You spend half your time with Petra, but do you know where she’s from, do you know what she wants in life, do you even know her last name, or that Petra isn’t her full name?”


    “It isn’t, I thought Petra was the full name.”


    “Its Petracosta.” Flint said accusingly. “You hold yourself back and try to bolt at the first sign of trouble. And not the easy sort of trouble like monsters or bandits, but the icky emotional kind of trouble. They’ve done nothing but offer you friendship, and I’m tired of watching them suffer from having it thrown back on them. So, you’re gonna get yer ass up, and go back to the inn and tell them everything that happened.”


    Seras’ head shot up “Didn’t you here me? I said I’m broken. I’ll always stay this weak, and if I make one misstep I’ll die, and you be left with an empty husk of metal to melt down.”


    “I don’t care.” Flint shot back. “You don’t get to make the choice to cut them off just because you feel like you’ll hold us back. And frankly I’m still not convinced that you wont find a solution.”


    “Knowledge said there was no cure.” Seras pointed out.


    “And what does she know!” Flint stood up. “She is the Goddess of everything that is, not will be. You want to just sit there and let your condition kill you that’s fine, but don’t give me such a lame excuse. Plenty of things were impossible until someone went out and did them. You’re always boasting about how advanced and smart your world is, use some of that ‘technological superiority’ and fix yourself.”


    Seras stood up, angry and ready to argue with the elf, when a hand shoved something into her chest.


    Seras looked down at the cube Flint had shoved at her. “What’s this?” she asked.


    Flint kept his back turned on her “I never really thanked you for saving my life. That’s my thank you”


    Seras blinked and looked down.


    Potent Essence, four-star rarity. An essence that grants the user the power of potency.


    Seras had learned over her time with the caravan crew what kind of price essences like this went for “Flint I can’t-”


    “You can, and I wont take it back. Use it, sell it, chuck into the sea, I don’t care. But that is the last time I see you try to give up or walk out. Understood?”


    Seras sniffed. “Yeah, yeah I understand.”


    She didn’t say thank you, because she knew Flint would just reject it. But she was thankful, thankful for the essence, and the swift kick in the ass his words had given her.


    She wasn’t okay. She hadn’t been okay since she arrived on this world. And maybe long before that. But she was Seras ‘Blackiron’ Cross, there was no way she was letting herself slump into a depression just because some goddess siad there was no solution to her problem.


    Since when did she believe in any Gods or Goddesses? Just because they were real on this world that didn’t mean that had any right to her faith or trust.