“I’m–” Ellie rasps around the feeling of cotton inside her mouth. “I’m– a Samurai?”

  Yes. Which means you have points at your disposal for me to assist you, warping in weapons, tools and many other items in your battle against the Antithesis, the voice, Ilya, responds.

  “Oh,” Ellie says. The woman’s voice is soothing, warm and kind. It reminds Ellie of her sister. “Hurts,” she manages to whisper.

  You’re badly injured, yes. Dear, to make it out of this place alive and with your loved ones safe, you’ll need to help yourself first.

  Ellie starts breathing rapidly, eyes widening. The Vilanovas! As her vision sharpens, so does the pain in her limbs. Her right arm hurts something fierce, as does her foot on the same side. She tilts her head and finds…

  No right arm or foot.

  Ilya’s voice comes from very far away.

  Ellie, you’re panicking. You have a little time, but you have to stay calm and let me help you to survive.

  “I don’t- I can’t-”

  The Class I Medical Utilities Catalog has what you need to save yourself and your family. Do you understand, Ellie?

  “Yes,” she gasps once she’s regained control of herself. The thought of her family in danger is too much. “Please help me.”

  You can unlock the catalog and a double dose of WoundStop, a regenerative agent for your general injuries, and a HemoRestore for all the blood you lost for a total of 85 points. Just say yes or nod if you agree.

  “Ok. Yes, please,” Ellie nods, but she kind of can't hear her own voice. She doesn’t really understand what’s happening, but the warm voice in her brain is trying to help her, and Ellie doesn’t want to think about her missing, mangled limbs.

  A sleek box of text appears in the corner of her eye.

  A faint light flashes next to her.

  Ellie lolls her head drunkenly, reaching for the thingies that suddenly appeared in the debris and dust covered floor, before hesitating.

  The one on the left is the WoundStop. Press it to your arm and leg and press the red button on the opposite side.

  She grabs the tube in her left hand and turns to her arm, swallowing at the grisly sight of white, red and black. Ellie ignores the phantom sensation of her right hand clenching on nothing and turns away with eyes closed. It feels like sand pouring into her flesh, ticklish and strange but not painful, necessarily.

  Ellie drags herself to a sitting position in between gasps and reaches for her leg, and applies the WoundStop as quickly as she can to the end of the wound.

  A choked sob escapes her as she lets the spent tube clink on the ground.

  Well done, Ellie, Ilya whispers and the tears don’t stop, but Ellie can think clearly again, unfortunately bringing her attention to the painful pins and needles in her missing limbs and the tight burning in her ribs. Now the Nano Regenerative Suite. Place it in your mouth and inhale once, deeply, after depressing the switch.

  Ellie follows, and she feels like she inhaled a pintful of the carbonated air in a fizzy drink, slightly burning and freezing at the same time. Before her eyes, her ruined stumps scab over and are covered with bright pink skin.

  It’s like magic.

  Ellie sways where she sits at the sudden head rush.

  Finally the HemoRestore, exactly for that. Center of mass is fine.

  The glass applicator filled with a wine-like substance is clumsily applied in her stomach and Ellie collapses.

  Clarity returns and her breathing normalizes. In her old world she’d be dead of infection in days or exsanguinated in minutes. Even here, in Oxford Core, bureaucracy would’ve killed her. Ellie can’t believe the efficiency of the medicines Ilya provided.

  Ilya. A super-powerful artificial-intelligence created by the mysterious Protectors. Just thinking of these beings existing back home would’ve brought to mind images of angels and all-powerful gods. The Samurai of this age normalized that wonder in Ellie’s mind a bit, but.. she realizes the potential and power Ilya provides.

  Speaking of…

  “Ilya?” Ellie asks, looking around. “Where am I? And… what happened?”

  You seem to be in the factory’s basement. An infrequently used one, perhaps to store those now very broken machines. You’re lucky to not have done your little stunt above a chemical supplies storage.

  Ellie feels nauseous all over again. In the dim light, she looks at the piles of rubble and still-burning fluids all around her that decimated whatever these machines were and breathes a sigh of relief.

  Anyway, you completely annihilated your attackers in the upper floor with your improvised trap, and the foundation couldn’t take it. You fell here and sustained your injuries, and the power supply seems to have been damaged in the process.

  Ellie cranes her neck and pales at the hole in the ceiling. The vents in the roof far above are bent outwards and caked with dust. Every now and then a piece of concrete peels off and thunks to the ground.

  You earned a good few points. That Model Six, along with the Ones, Threes and even a few Fours sneaking up on you from the other entrance.

  “...there was another door to that place? No, don’t tell me. Ilya, I– I need to move,” Ellie sighs. Her newly cured… stumps wiggle as she drags herself back to sitting and she shivers at the sudden phantom pain. Her hand and foot are moving in the back of her mind but they aren’t. “How– can you help me?”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  I can, dear, Ilya confirms warmly. There’s hundreds of thousands of catalogs with solutions for your missing limbs. Right now, you have enough points to go the cybernetics route. Bionics and genetics are a more expensive and involved process that the urgency of your situation doesn’t really allow.

  “I see,” Ellie says, not really seeing. The more complicated terms fly over her head, but she understands enough.

  Leo is a hardcore cyberware enthusiast. According to his late Nonna, there was an abundance of stories when she was a little girl where technology evolved so fast, machines and humans blurred together, making them faster, stronger and sometimes even healthier. Leo’s grandmother passed that fascination on to her grandson. Ellie wished she could have met the woman.

  Besides her inherited interest in cybernetics, a spark of a feeling is born deep in her chest that has her shaking with emotion.

  “I need something… durable, for my arm. Those monsters would’ve hurt them if I didn’t do this to myself…” she says harshly, tentatively cradling her stump with her left hand. “So I need to make them pay. I can’t get hurt again. And I need a sword,” she tacks on, ideas forming.

  I thought you might say something like that. For now, may I recommend the Class I Automaton Collective Technologies catalog for 150 points? They’re a humanoid-like race that venerates machine conversion and honor. There are plenty of medical and military grade limb and organ replacements they employ, along with a healthy respect for the martial arts. You won’t be hurting for options if you decide to upgrade later.

  Ellie’s brain twinges at the word medical, that earlier brainworm perking up at attention, but she focuses again.

  “You catalog the technology of other…alien races?”

  Of every one under the reach of the Protector’s influence, to aid in the fight against the universal threat of the Antithesis. No one knows what might be useful to any individual Samurai.

  “Right. I understand. I’ll ask you later, if you don’t mind. What can I get with my points in that catalog?”

  A short line of text appears.

  [Current points: 320]

  I think your best option would be the Hermit Crab System for your right arm at 80 points. It’s inexpensive, durable, and designed to be slotted with upgrades down the line depending on what a member of the Collective decides to do later in life. The preferred option for heavy duty workers or soldiers. Because of that it’s just a simple replacement, but I think it’s a good fit for you.

  Considering my profile on you, and Ellie raises both eyebrows in curiosity, you’d do best with a one-handed sword with a design you’re familiar with, the E5S Cutter. It has a thagomizer blade and good protection for your hand, and can even handle Antithesis in the lower tens. I think you will like it. Just 50 points.

  For your foot, an economical option in your Medical Utilities catalog will have to do so you have a nest egg of points for emergencies.. A Crutch Attachment is easily worn and removed, but has no tactile feedback. It’s very comfortable, though. 5 points.

  “…so a peg leg?”

  A peg leg humanity has no hope of developing in the next hundred years, but yes. It’s a peg leg.

  “That… sounds good to me. Go ahead?”

  This time she sees the items just pop into existence with a soft flash of light. Three non-descript boxes sit there, and she reaches for the nearest one.

  What greets her is the sleek brushed metal of her new right arm. The end that’s supposed to attach to her shorn bicep has a sleeve of sturdy, elastic fabric Ellie can’t identify as she rubs it between two fingers. Gold and silver seams separate the joints. It’s utilitarian and pretty at the same time. She hefts it with little effort in one hand.

  “So I just…?” she asks as she fits her nub into the sleeve.

  With a sharp schwink of the fabric-like material tightening, the arm and Ellie both twitch. The strangest feeling of her skin crawling along her bicep makes her shiver, and then she reflexively tries to scratch herself with her right hand.

  It moves perfectly and Ellie gapes in astonishment.

  She twists it this way and that, and it responds with barely a sound.

  “...it’s magical. Just magical,” she mutters, a giant smile on her face.

  In a sense of the word, yes.

  Ellie shakes the wonder away. She doesn’t have time to waste, medical marvels notwithstanding.

  The smaller case contains the crutch, and it really is a simple thing. Squarish and unremarkable, she puts it on like a strange kind of shoe and climbs to her feet.

  She’s pleasantly surprised at the smoothness. It really is a hyper-advanced peg leg. A few short paces around her landing spot feel not much different than her actual foot.

  Which is resting a few meters away behind a piece of concrete. Burnt, and smoking.

  Ellie turns back to the final box to avoid accidentally finding her arm. She opens the case, only to stop short.

  “...is that a basket-hilt?”

  Yes.

  Ilya sounds painfully smug. Ellie can’t even get mad because Ilya is so nice, and the sword is pretty much perfect.

  A handle just big enough for her hand to fit comfortably, and a sturdy metal basket around it to protect her digits. The blade starts wide and broad and narrows to a deadly point just at the end. The hilt is more blocky and geometric in design, and there’s divots all along the two edges, but futuristic design choices aside, it’s a plain and simple Scottish armoury staple.

  The sheath and belt that come with it are a good bonus Ellie didn’t even think about. As she deftly loops it around her waist and clicks it closed, she pauses. The sheath rests at her right.

  “How’d you know I was left-handed? I do everything else with my right.”

  It’s a trivial detail an AI like me can extrapolate from your mannerisms and micro-expressions, Ilya comments proudly.

  “I need to take a look at that profile you have on me…” Ellie grumbles, finally picking up her new Cutter.

  She tests its weight. It cuts through the air like a dream. The short few paces she puts the sword through are effortless. Ellie frowns when she feels a divot in the handle that shouldn’t be there. She presses it.

  The edges of the blade flare up and turn red-hot as the openings along the blade light up with blue flames.

  Wide-eyed, Ellie grins.

  “So that’s the thagomizer.”

  She schools her face into neutrality and breathes deeply as she releases the switch, closing her eyes. The emotions that swirled in her gut as she recovered from her fall finally come to the surface, and she scowls, irritated, nervous, worried, frightened and deeply, deeply angry.

  I think you’re as ready as can be. There’s an incursion to save, people to help… and when this is all over, we might want to sit down and talk about how you came to be in this dimension, if you wish, Ilya says warmly, if coyly.

  Ellie opens her eyes and dares to hope, a little bit. If there’s a force out there that can save her family in this world, and somehow, get her back to her own, it would be the all-powerful Protectors repelling the universal apocalypse.

  She only needs to cut her way through the alien monsters that dared to threaten the family that saved her, and see where she goes from there.

  “Alright, you fucking wankers. Here I come."