A Toxic Vortex
T he kiss of betrayal was, at times, toxic, sometimes deadly.
Kisan vaguely recalled the quote as he lurched at the invasive flood of a new substance moving fast through his veins.
He tried to pull away, to tear his mouth from hers, but his muscles refused to obey.
She kept kissing him, infusing more ice-cold tendrils that snaked through his bloodstream.
His body stiffened, his instincts roaring in protest.
Kisan’s heart thundered against his rib cage, each beat reverberating through his chest like the pounding of war drums.
His breathing hitched, shallow, and uneven as the toxin’s icy burn spread.
His fingers, which had just grazed the curve of her waist beneath the water, began to tremble, their strength ebbing.
The lake, once a soothing cradle, now constricted around him, its liquid embrace turning to suffocate.
His metanoids faltered, their energy disrupted by the substance now coursing through him.
A searing heat followed the cold, spreading up his spine and making his vision blur at the edges.
Was this his end? Was this how he was to die? Was this penance for his sins?
His knees buckled beneath him, and he sank deeper into the water, the buoyancy doing little to support his now leaden limbs.
She reached for him, holding him above the water line, eyes anxious as she watched him give in to her poison .
His ears rang with a high-pitched whine, drowning out the gentle splashes of the lake. Every sound became muted and distant like the world was retreating into a tunnel.
Kisan’s eyes locked onto Samira’s, searching for something—an explanation, remorse, anything—but all he found within was deep regret.
The shimmering lights of the lagoon reflected in her gaze, casting her face in an ethereal glow.
He tried to speak, but his throat tightened as the toxin spread to his neck, cutting off any words. His jaw clenched, his muscles twitching as he clung to consciousness.
The water pressed against his skin, cool and soothing, but now it felt like a betrayal, just like the woman before him.
He attempted to move away from the pulse of her hands, steadying him as she whispered, ‘Forgive me.’
He’d lost all ability to register her utterance when her lips captured his once more.
His physique locked, his metanoids—the microscopic bio-mechanical enhancers integrated into his cells—stiffening under her control as she slicked more toxin into his mouth via her tongue.
He tried to pull back, but his extremities refused to obey, his muscles frozen.
The glow in her skin dimmed as she pulled away, her breath soft against his lips.
Her eyes flicked to his, and a smile curled the edge of her mouth—not playful or tender, but calculating.
Fokk, what had she done to him?
He forced the remaining energy in his metanoids to his vocal cords.
Twas to no avail, and he gasped, flailing, until she touched her wet hand to his throat, and he spluttered, this time with some audible control.
‘Samira, why -’ he rasped, his hoarse utterance laced with confusion and betrayal.
She placed a finger against his lips, her touch silencing him.
‘It’s not personal,’ she murmured, her voice carrying a chilling calm. ‘I won’t hurt you; all I need is access to your home, and you’ll let me in.’
Ever-lovin-fokk-why?
He tried to activate his neural node, reaching for Mirage’s prescience, but his connection faltered.
The neuro-toxin Samira had transferred through her kiss had disrupted his systems, severing his ability to call for assistance.
However, his mind remained alert. His thoughts parsed and raced, and he tried to understand what was happening even as the rest of his body was no longer in his control.
‘Take me to your place,’ she commanded in a murmur that sent a ripple of dread through him.
His legs moved, not of his own accord but under the control of his overridden metanoids. He attempted a kinetic takeover, but that, too, failed.
Fokk .
His soul sunk, and rage roiled in his chest as he fought the betrayal of his form and metanoids.
Whatever fokkin ’ neural bio agent she’d given him was too potent.
He was forced to follow her instructions, step out of the pool, and walk to a compact bench where his clothes were folded.
At her whispered command, he dressed with mechanical jerked movements.
The smooth fabric of his black gear clung to his damp skin as he pulled it on. He glared at her from the corner of his eye.
Samira slipped into a flowing cloak, its shimmering textile hugging her figure before falling in fluid folds around her.
She walked with a grace that belied the small, concealed firearm she now clutched beneath the cloak’s edge.
The weapon remained hidden, but its presence was unmistakable as she gestured for him to follow her.
They exited the spa area without fuss, her hand brushing his arm as if they were lovers departing after an intimate evening. No one in the bustling lobby of CyVoda paid them much attention.
Outside, a sleek, bot-operated flyer awaited, its polished surface reflecting the neon veins of Eden II’s skyline.
The skimmer hummed as it ascended, its engines a whisper against the backdrop of the city.
Kisan sat, limbs rigid, spine flexed beside her, his mind churning as his body remained under her subtle control.
The city’s glow spilled through the flyer’s windows, illuminating the curves of her face, her calm demeanor unsettling.
Samira turned to him, her moon-dust-flecked eyes catching the light. ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she said, her tone measured. ‘You hate me at this moment, and you’ve every right. But please have faith; I don’t intend to harm you, and this will end soon. I only need one thing from you.’
His jaw clenched, the only part of him he could still move.
You didn’t have to do this , he communicated with the glare in his eyes.
His limbs trembling with suppressed anger and the kinetic charge he kept trying to fire up to regain control.
‘You wouldn’t have helped me of your own volition,’ she replied. ‘Also, time is of the essence, and I don’t have time for debates.’
Her hand shifted beneath her cloak, and he caught the glint of the weapon she had trained on him.
‘This isn’t just any laser gun,’ she warned. ‘It uses neuro-toxin bullets, which deliver a much higher dose of the current antigen inside you. If I were to fire it into you, your entire physiology would collapse in minutes. Your metanoids would explode, and you’d be left a puddle all over this floor.’
She spoke with a cold iciness that belied the Samira he’d come to know.
Fokk, how had he let this happen? How had he not seen her coming?’
The scent of her—salt and citrus—lingered in the enclosed space.
He focused on it, breathing in and out, for that was all he could do.
The flyer descended in a smooth maneuver, landing at the entrance of Sable HQ.
When they entered the lobby, the familiar sight of Kage and Zane Sable greeted him.
The two Riders stood near the access, their imposing frames cutting sharp silhouettes against the building’s gleaming interior.
Kage grinned when he tagged his fellow Rider and strode to him, hugging him.
His fellow Rider was a hulking figure with short jet-black tresses streaked with aqua highlights. He sported a bushy, inky beard, metallic gray eyes, a stubborn chin, and a swathe of jagged scars down one side of his face.
Raising a brow, Kage used his neural node to whisper to Kisan. Bringing a friend home, huh? Ace! About fokkin’ time.
Zane was a lean, towering, striking, and muscled man with dark, thick hair featuring silver highlights, a neat mustache, and a goatee with piercing blue eyes. His elegant presence contrasted with his more casual-dressed companion.
He raised an eyebrow, his penetrating gaze flicking to Samira. She’s a beauty, stunning at that. You’ve been holding out on us, brother.
Kisan’s lips twitched into a forced smirk, his mind racing to keep the charade intact.
When he attempted to use his neural node one more time, a sharp stab of agony went through his skull.
He winced and covered it up almost at once with a chin jerk at his mates, acutely aware of the barrel of Samira’s weapon up against his spine.
She stayed close, her cloak draped so that her armament remained hidden.
She offered the Riders a polite smile, her calm demeanor betraying nothing of her true intentions.
‘See you around, gentlemen,’ the woman by his side crooned in a delicious velvet voice.
Kage chuckled, clapping Kisan on the shoulder. ‘Don’t let us keep you both. Have fun.’
Kisan’s heart pounded as the elevator doors slid shut, cutting them off from his brothers’ playful banter.
Samira’s hand brushed his arm again, a silent reminder that she still held the upper hand.
She pressed him before her at his front entrance so his face was clear before the scanner.
A sweep of blue energy flicked over him, unlocking the door with his biometric signature validated.
The Rider shook with even more rage as she led him inside.
The moment they entered his apartment, she moved with purpose.
First, she pushed him onto the couch. ‘Stay.’
Her eyes scanned the space, taking in the stark, utilitarian décor.
She ignored the furniture and headed straight for the one thing that stood out: the jeweled mask on the wall.
Kisan’s chest tightened as she approached it.
Hell.
So this is what she was after.
The one object that defined his madness, rage, and roiling focus on retribution.
His shame.
As if reading his mind, Samira glanced back at him, her expression unreadable. ‘It may have harmed many, but now it might have the chance to liberate millions.’
The fokk?
He glowered as she reached for it, brushing the intricate black spinel surface.
The mask vibrated at her touch, its dormant kinetic energy responding with a light flare.
She unhooked it from the wall with practiced ease, cradling it like a precious artifact.
Kisan’s metanoids began to stir, the effects of her neuro-toxin waning just enough for him to test his strength.
He sighed in relief at a slight twitch in his fingers and toes; a flicker of control returned. His eyes narrowed as he glared at her.
Samira pulled a small device from beneath her cloak. The silver sphere glowed when she tapped it.
A soft purr filled the room as the orb expanded, forming a swirling blue and white energy vortex—a miniature wormhole transporter for short transfers.
‘I’m sorry, Kisan,’ she said, her eyes filled with regret. ‘I hate to inconvenience you, but this mask is the key to saving what’s left of my world. The toxin I administered will wear off in a few days. It gave you a nonlethal dose with zero lingering symptoms.’
Kisan’s body surged with renewed strength as she prepared to enter the swirling, illuminated portal.
His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist.
The force of his grip startled her, but her expression remained calm.
‘I’m not letting you walk away with it,’ he growled.
Her silver and gold eyes softened, a flicker of regret passing through them. ‘You don’t understand. Perhaps it’s best if you don’t try to. All I ask is that you forgive me.’
She jerked from him as she stepped further into the vortex.
He lurched, unable to stop her from stepping into it.
Its pull was too strong for him.
Just before she disappeared into its swirling depths, Kisan gritted his teeth, summoned all remaining power to his hand, and yanked her wrist comm from her.
The maelstrom collapsed with a fading buzz, leaving him alone in the silent apartment, his chest heaving, his fist clutching her device.
The mask was gone, but he held her comm in his hand—a slim connection to the woman who had betrayed him.
His viridescent eyes glowed with roiling rage in the dim light as he stared at it, his mind racing with the implications of what she had just accomplished.
With a groan, he slid down on one knee, then the other, and collapsed.