The food stall was tucked into a shadowed corner of the bustling district, blending into the chaos of flickering neon signs and the ever-present murmur of the crowd. Steam rose from large, simmering vats of broth, carrying the scent of spiced noodles and grilled meat. Elior, Vera, and Dax sat on a trio of mismatched stools around a rickety table, their hoods drawn low to obscure their faces.

  For once, there was no immediate threat. No drones buzzing overhead, no enforcers closing in. Just the simple act of sitting, eating, and pretending—if only for a moment—to be ordinary.

  Vera broke the silence first, skewering a piece of grilled meat with her chopsticks and gesturing toward Dax. “So, Mr. Augments, you’ve been unusually quiet. Don’t tell me you’re shy.”

  Dax glanced up from his bowl of noodles, his helmet set beside him on the table. He gave a small shrug. “Just thinking. I don’t get downtime often.”

  “Ah, so the perfect enforcer does have thoughts,” Vera teased, smirking. “Guess the System didn’t hardwire them out after all.”

  Dax rolled his eyes but didn’t take the bait. “I wasn’t always like this,” he said, picking at his food. “There was a time I actually believed in what I was doing.”

  Elior leaned forward slightly, his curiosity piqued. “What changed?”

  Dax let out a dry laugh. “Na?veté, mostly. When I started, I thought I was protecting people. Keeping order in a chaotic city. I didn’t realize I was just another cog in the Overlords’ machine.” He took a bite, chewing thoughtfully before continuing. “There was this one mission early on. We were sent to ‘pacify’ a group of activists protesting outside a power hub. Peaceful people, no weapons, just signs and chants.”

  “Let me guess,” Vera interjected, arching a brow. “You didn’t exactly let them hold a sit-in.”

  “I… followed orders,” Dax admitted, his voice heavy with regret. “I told myself it was for the greater good. That they were disrupting the System and putting others at risk. But seeing their faces… the fear, the betrayal… It stuck with me.”

  Vera’s smirk softened into something resembling sympathy. “Well, look at you now. All redeemed and brooding. You’re practically a storybook hero.”

  “Sure,” Dax replied dryly. “Let me know when the happily-ever-after part kicks in.”

  Elior listened quietly, absorbing the exchange. The camaraderie felt strange, almost alien. In his world, he had always been the outcast, the necromancer no one trusted. He stared into his bowl of soup, the broth reflecting his faintly glowing emerald eyes.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “What about you, Elior?” Vera’s voice broke through his thoughts. “What was your world like before… you know, all this?”

  He hesitated, the question tugging at memories he rarely revisited. “It was simpler,” he said finally, his voice low. “Before I became what I am, I lived in a small village. We had rolling fields, clear skies… It was quiet. Peaceful.”

  “Sounds nice,” Vera said, her tone softer than usual. “Why leave?”

  Elior’s gaze remained fixed on his soup. “I didn’t leave. I was… forced out. When my powers manifested, people started treating me differently. They feared me. Even the ones I thought were my friends.”

  “Small minds in small villages,” Dax muttered, shaking his head. “Guess some things don’t change, no matter the world.”

  “I thought I could prove them wrong,” Elior continued, his voice tinged with bitterness. “That I could use my magic to help. But every time I saved someone, it only made them more afraid. Eventually, I stopped trying.”

  “And now you’re here,” Vera said, offering a small, rueful smile. “Stuck with us in this dystopian hellscape.”

  Elior’s lips quirked upward in the faintest hint of a smile. “I’ve had worse company.”

  The trio lapsed into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the market washing over them. For a brief moment, they allowed themselves to feel like ordinary people sharing a meal, not fugitives plotting to dismantle a corrupt system.

  “So,” Vera said suddenly, breaking the quiet. “If we survive this, what’s next? Anyone got a dream?”

  “Surviving sounds like enough of a dream to me,” Dax replied, leaning back in his chair.

  “Lame,” Vera retorted, grinning. “Come on, big guy. You’ve got to want something.”

  Dax considered for a moment, then shrugged. “Maybe a place where I don’t have to fight. Somewhere quiet.” He glanced at Elior. “Sounds like your village might’ve been nice.”

  “It was,” Elior said, his expression thoughtful. “But I think I’d want something different now. Somewhere I could be myself. Where people wouldn’t look at me like…”

  “A monster?” Vera finished, her voice unexpectedly gentle.

  Elior nodded. “Something like that.”

  Vera leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “You’re not a monster, Elior. Just a guy with some freaky magic and bad luck. Welcome to the club.”

  Dax snorted. “She’s not wrong.”

  The moment was shattered by a soft, mechanical hum. Elior stiffened, his senses prickling as a shadow passed overhead. He looked up to see a small drone hovering just above the food stall, its red sensor light scanning the area.

  “We’ve got company,” Elior said, his voice tight.

  Vera followed his gaze, her eyes narrowing. “Damn it. How long has that thing been there?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Dax said, rising to his feet. “We need to move. Now.”

  The drone emitted a sharp beep, its sensor light flashing rapidly. Elior’s stomach sank.

  “It’s calling reinforcements,” he said grimly.

  Before anyone could respond, the market erupted into chaos. Shoppers screamed and scattered as the drone’s signal summoned a squad of enforcers, their armored forms dropping from transport pods with mechanical precision.

  “Go!” Dax barked, drawing his plasma blades.

  The trio bolted, weaving through the panicked crowd as the enforcers gave chase. The fleeting sense of normalcy was gone, replaced once again by the harsh reality of their fight for survival.