And we were off at the races, the clanking metallic claws scraping the vent as they sped toward me.

  I put down my head and crawled like my life depended on it. Tapping a holster on my thigh and kicking out a slender las-gun. It deformed from my suit fibers and filled the grooves of my hand like liquid metal, until it took solid form.

  Levying the las-gun behind me, I blasted purple hued bolts indiscriminately back at the cyber hound. They ricocheted off the vent metal, with screeching fire, and flew down the shaft, as the cyber hound leaped and dodged with tactical efficiency.

  Suddenly, the rabid metal beast turned down another pathway to its right and disappeared from sight.

  Somehow, I like the feeling of that even less.

  I barrelled forward, expressing slight caution as I came to another intersection, a fan whizzing rapidly ahead. This is the worst possible outcome.

  Hesitating, I raised my weapon forward and took a breath. At that, I popped out, flashed the las-gun down the right path and fired several blasts that traveled quickly hurtling down the other chute and disappearing from sight. Nothing was there.

  “Uh oh.”

  RARGH!

  The cyber-hound snarled as it raced down from the left side, catching me off guard.

  Rolling over, I shot off four rounds, before the brief cool-down recharge period hit me, while the weapon recycled endless energy inside.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Every. Shot. Missed.

  The beast pounced and snared my leg in its razor sharp maw. It tugged and pulled me, as I slipped down toward it, yanking my head back and smashing it against the vent as I was violently ripped toward it.

  I thrashed about, thrusting my free foot at its head, colliding on a few kicks, while my other leg was gripped tightly. At last, I bashed its head square on and stifled its gnawing, sending it reeling as it released to collect itself.

  Blood trickled down my leg, protected somewhat by the tight protective fibers of my suit, but not enough to stop a slightly deeper wound.

  Immediately, I regained my composure and looked back at my charge indicator on the las-gun. It glowed a happy neon green instead of its grumpy red. Fully re-charged. I fired off a few more rounds with hastened pace, impacting its head squarely, the course of electricity shivering throughout its body as it deactivated and withered to the floor.

  Phew. I raised my visor up over my hairline to wipe sweat off my brow, before feeling my leg. It was tender to the touch. “Damn it.”

  Searching around, I found a grate a few inches away from me. I peered down through the bars, which led to a narrow, contained, hallway.

  Sighing, I pulled the grate off, using enhanced suit strength, and pushed it aside. I popped a head out to survey the area. No one present. Good.

  Slipping out and hanging down, I dropped to the floor. “Ugh!” I tumbled, unable to sustain full weight on my leg. I need a med kit fast...and boy was I in luck. Down the hall, attached to the wall, was a kit holder. “Thank the stars.”

  I pulled myself up and dragged my leg over to it. Smashing the glass, I pulled the kit out and shook the shards to the ground.

  CLICK.

  I turned my head to spot a slew of armed guards with las-rifles held up at me.

  A man with a sleek angular black-graying haircut, that looked like a weathered cliff, steeply sloped in the front and tailored off in the back, appeared through the wave of guards. He wore a long white overcoat, its fringes lined with gold trimmed tassels and neat lines, as his hands swam in over-sized sleeves.

  “Let’s not be too hasty,” the man said, with a grin. “We wouldn’t want to make a rash decision, red handed, now...would we?”