The glow of my cigarette cuts through the dim haze of the lab. The box sitting on the floor flickers into view, its shadow stretching long across the grimy tiles. I take a slow drag, exhaling smoke through my nose like some washed-up dragon.

  "Well, isn’t this a surprise? Or should I say... a gift?" The words slither out before I can stop them. My own voice grates on me sometimes—like I am playing a character I don’t remember writing. I exhale again, watching the ember burn low as I nudge the box with my boot. It’s got weight, something alive shifting inside.

  Then—scratch.

  My hand twitches toward my coat pocket, brushing against the hilt of the shifter. The scratching stops. I narrow my eyes and crouch, tracing a finger over the sticker slapped haphazardly onto the side.

  To Jinx: we found something that might be useful for you.

  Cordially, Five Star.

  I scoff, dragging a hand through my tangled mess of hair. It’s too long again. I look like a cross between a mad scientist and a burnt-out lead singer from a ‘90s boy band. Fitting, considering I’m both those things—minus the boy band.

  “If this is another one of their so-called ‘experiments,’ I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”

  The box barely holds itself shut. I pop the lid, bracing for something horrific.

  It’s a cat.

  A black cat.

  “A cat? A CAT?” My voice climbs in pitch. I hear it—grating, raw with irritation. “These people waste my time with a fucking cat? What part of my work says ‘hey, you know what he needs? A shitty little cat’?”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  I stand up fast, shoving my hands in my coat to resist the overwhelming urge to punt it straight into the next dimension. Because, knowing my luck, it would go to another dimension, and Five Star would send me a bill for ‘property damages.’

  I turn my back on the box, heading for my workstation. The table is a war zone—half-eaten Twinkies, modified weapons, a couple of time-tether prototypes, and somewhere, somewhere, my goddamn walkie.

  “Delta.”

  A massive screen crackles to life, bathing the room in sterile blue. The AI’s voice is smooth, professional—completely unimpressed with my existence.

  “Yes, sir. How may I assist you?”

  “Call Five Star.”

  A loading icon spins. Then:

  “Five Star is unavailable at the moment. Would you like me to leave a message?”

  I slam my fist onto the table. “Yeah. Tell ‘em to go fuck themselves and all their little lab experiments.”

  A pause.

  “Message sent.”

  I grind my cigarette into the floor, yanking my chair out and flipping through the holographic displays in front of me. Weapons, prototypes, blueprints—my twisted little children. A distraction, at least, until—

  Thud.

  I freeze.

  I turn my head slowly. The box is tipped over.

  “My fault.”

  I move cautiously, the shifter in my grip now, its sleek metal cool against my fingers. One button press and it hums to life, morphing into something a little more persuasive. A blade, if necessary. A gun, if things get messy. I creep toward the box. Empty. Just what I need—a rogue cat in my lab.

  I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. Five Star has a twisted sense of humor. I straighten up, flicking my gaze across the room—

  And lock eyes with it. It’s perched on my desk. Watching me.

  Not a cat. Not just a cat.

  It’s massive—lion-sized, sleek metal plating seamlessly fused with fur, glowing circuitry pulsing along its limbs like veins. Its eyes, two deep pools of electric blue, scan me with something dangerously close to calculation.

  A bionic cat.

  I don’t get the chance to react. It moves first.

  The thing lunges, and I barely yank the shifter free before it’s on me.

  Welcome to Dimension Zero.