Ethan sprinted through the byrinth of Aeteris City's junkyard as the buzzing drones closed in behind him. Each pulse of their engines felt like a countdown to his inevitable capture—or worse. His breath came in ragged gasps, the Arc-Helix glowing faintly on his arm. Nyx's voice echoed in his mind, calm and analytical amidst the chaos.

  "Six drones inbound. Threat level: moderate. Recommend evasive manoeuvres."

  "Really?" Ethan shouted, vaulting over a stack of shattered hovercar shells. "I figured running was enough of a manoeuvre!"

  He darted left, narrowly avoiding a psma bolt that seared the air inches from his head. The pile of scrap behind him exploded in a burst of molten shrapnel. Ethan stumbled but pushed forward, his mind racing faster than his feet. The junkyard's maze offered no clear escape; every path seemed to twist back on itself like a cruel joke.

  "Nyx," he panted, "any chance you can, I don't know, help me here?"

  "I am optimizing the Arc-Helix's energy pathways for combat output," Nyx replied, her tone infuriatingly composed. "But your biological adaptation is incomplete. Using advanced systems risks catastrophic failure."

  Ethan clenched his teeth as another bolt sizzled past. "Catastrophic failure sounds better than dead!"

  Without waiting for a response, he ducked into a narrow alley formed by towering heaps of scrap. The walls of rusted metal loomed on either side, blocking the drones’ line of sight. For a moment, the relentless hum of their engines faded.

  He pressed his back against a wall, his chest heaving. The Arc-Helix's glow had dimmed, but he could feel it—a strange, almost living presence humming beneath his skin. It felt...alive, like it was waiting for something.

  "Nyx," he said, his voice low. "What exactly is this thing? Why me?"

  "The Arc-Helix is a prototype artifact designed by the Lumina Concve," Nyx expined. "It selects its wielder based on tent potential—biological, cognitive, and moral. You fit the profile."

  "Great," Ethan muttered. "So, I won some cosmic lottery."

  Before Nyx could respond, the hum of the drones grew louder. A red light danced across the alley as one of the machines appeared at the entrance, scanning for him. Ethan's pulse quickened. He gnced around; his options limited. Running wouldn't work; the drones were faster. Fighting? He barely knew how the Arc-Helix worked.

  But he had no choice.

  "Nyx," he whispered, "how do I take one of these things down without killing myself?"

  "Focus your intent on a single point," she instructed. "The Helix will respond. Energy output will align with your mental state."

  "Okay," he muttered, more to himself than to Nyx. "Focus. Intent. No big deal."

  He stepped into the open, raising his glowing arm toward the drone. The machine swivelled, its red eye locking onto him like a predator spotting prey. Ethan's heart pounded. He could feel the energy building within him, a heat that surged from the core of the Arc-Helix and spread through his veins.

  "User identified," the drone intoned. "Lethal force authorized."

  The psma bolt came fast—too fast. But Ethan was faster.

  Instinctively, he thrust his arm forward, and a beam of crackling energy erupted from the Arc-Helix. The force of it sent him staggering backward, but the effect was immediate. The drone exploded in a brilliant fsh, shards of metal raining down around him.

  For a moment, there was silence.

  Then the rest of the drones appeared.

  Ethan's triumph was short-lived as five more machines swarmed into the alley. His mind raced. He couldn't take them all down, not like this. He turned and bolted, weaving through the junkyard's chaotic maze. Psma bolts rained down around him, each one driving home the reality of his situation: he was outmatched.

  "Nyx," he gasped, "I'm open to suggestions here!"

  "There is an exit route 300 meters northeast," Nyx replied. "I have uploaded a map overy to your visual cortex. Follow the highlighted path."

  Ethan blinked, and suddenly his vision shifted. A faintly glowing line appeared in his field of view, tracing a path through the maze. It was disorienting, but he didn't have time to question it. He followed the line, his feet pounding against the ground.

  The drones pursued relentlessly, their psma bolts tearing through the junkyard. Ethan's makeshift path led him through narrow gaps and over unstable piles of debris. Twice he nearly slipped, his bance saved only by the enhanced reflexes the Arc-Helix seemed to grant him.

  Finally, he emerged into an open clearing. Ahead of him, a jagged tear in the junkyard's perimeter fence offered a narrow escape. But the drones were closing in, their hum a deafening roar.

  "Nyx," Ethan shouted, "can we do anything big here?"

  "There is an auxiliary energy reservoir within the Helix," Nyx said. "Deploying it will create an explosive force capable of disabling nearby threats. However, it will deplete the Helix's reserves, leaving you vulnerable."

  "Do it!" Ethan snapped, diving toward the fence.

  The Arc-Helix's glow intensified, its light blinding. Ethan felt the energy surge through him, a tidal wave of heat and power that threatened to consume him. He reached the tear in the fence and rolled through, just as a deafening explosion shook the junkyard behind him.

  When he turned back, the drones were gone—reduced to smouldering wreckage.

  Ethan colpsed onto the ground, his chest heaving. The Arc-Helix's glow had dimmed to almost nothing, and he felt an ache in his arm where it was bonded. Nyx's voice was faint but steady.

  "Threat neutralized. Energy reserves at 4%. Recovery protocols initiated."

  Ethan groaned, staring up at the sky. The psma domes above shimmered faintly, the city's distant glow casting eerie shadows over the junkyard. For the first time since this nightmare began, he allowed himself to breathe.

  "You're really something, Nyx," he muttered. "You almost got me killed."

  "My function is to optimize your survival," she replied. "Our survival is interdependent."

  Ethan ughed weakly. "Great. Guess we're stuck together."

  He pulled himself to his feet, wincing as his muscles protested. The Arc-Helix felt heavier now, like a weight he couldn't shake. But there was something else—something deeper. A sense of purpose, faint but undeniable, that had taken root in him.

  "Alright," he said, brushing himself off. "What's next?"

  "The Arc-Helix is only beginning to awaken," Nyx said. "Your journey has just begun. But know this: you have become a target. They will not stop until they have taken the Helix."

  Ethan's jaw tightened. "Let them come," he said, his voice steady. "If this thing's going to change my life, I might as well make it count."

  As he walked toward the city, the smouldering junkyard behind him, Ethan couldn't shake the feeling that his life would never be the same. And for the first time, he welcomed it.