Change did happen after the blood-chunk filled protest: more restrictions and "emergency" laws passed by the newly “elected” to punish the people. More freedoms lost, nothing improved. Perhaps, it was too idealistic to expect a group of loud people to change the minds of those with aged closed ears. These were just some of the thoughts floating in Diceil's mind, as he continued to fuse flesh and tech.

  "...Alright Dargee... I am gonna need you to keep doing your best to monitor me... Each procedure has a chance of sending me to death's door since we are on emergency DIY... The stomach replacement was successful... but it still needs a cyber battery so I can actually eat whole food again..."

  Dargee, keeping his programmed positive vibes, reassured Diceil:

  "No Problem Boss! Using Our Emergency Funds, I've Been Ordering The Required And Requested Materials! And Of Course, I've Been Preparing My Files For The Great Transfer!"

  "Cool Cool..." Huffed Diceil as he inserted the dermal computer, shoving the long beige flexible rods of machinery deep into his dry-iced arm's open wounds.

  He started with his left side: a quarter-sized opening was cut open, followed by shoving the round-shaped flexible end as deep as any future add-ons would require, this would also double as a sorta "anchor" to reduce the rods from over-shifting. With the intention of utilizing the "electro mag gem" as Diceil dubbed it, he had to push the computer deep enough into just before his wrists, making sure to avoid hitting any major veins. Key anchor points would have to be inserted first, followed by smaller incisions for the rods, to which then one would simply "pop" them into the fresh openings. It had been about 2 weeks since the stomach replacement, but this whole process would take about two months starting from one side of the body and working to the other. Diceil was focused. Determined. Brooding.

  With no local pain killer, Diceil chilled the areas he worked on with dry-ice to numb the areas and reduce more blood loss. While this helped, the best pain killer he had was to keep his mind busy. Always think ahead or overthink things, break down your thoughts into manageable parts, organize and execute them into one complex action. Customers, tech, conversations, whatever; he always had a plan ahead of time, and enjoyed the process like a challenging puzzle, Just like all the video games he’s played. But when his fellow Texans were minced by metal, especially SketchyXetchi, something changed. It wasn't the same kind of thought process anymore: it became cold, it became calculated… it had fused with the instinct to survive.

  In between sessions of insertion, Diceil would uncover how deep the corruption went in Texas. Hacking into different servers, anonymously observing higher-up's conversations, whatever he could in his limited mobility. But, as he delved deeper, it became more and more apparent: The government in place was simply doing as they were told. Candidates? Pre-chosen and approved ahead of time. Laws and budgeting? Decided by their masters. And who were their puppeteers? The name kept coming up: Richard Byleth, aka RitchBoss The Rapper, one of Texas' most legendary mic-spitters who currently leads 42% in the global export of licensed Texan music. And, surprisingly, several other high profile musician celebrities under his leadership were brought up in documentation. RitchBoss had taken over the biggest property management company in Texas about 9 years back: Kare Inn Housing Associates. From there, he’d strong-arm his partners into high level monopolized positions:

  AquaFrack, the main provider of water and sewer services to all of Texas. It's a miracle if you can get clean water, if anything running at all. Most citizens are forced to buy water from the store out of necessity, but are required by law to still pay for their services.

  Spamtrum Internet, the nation's only choice if they want to "safely" connect to the internet, habitual tracking included at no cost! The only alternative is to attempt to connect wirelessly to the internet of old, the "Cessnet" as it's called, which you're nearly guaranteed to get fried by malicious programs looking for any kind of port to ruin.

  Saint Maga Corp, the provider of all medical and pharmaceutical services, with the bills to boot. It's your only choice if you want to maybe survive, depending on availability and your known net-worth. Everyone eventually ends up here, but at least they got in-house insurance to "save you money!"

  Vito De This! Trash Services, an actually decent company, even if monopolized. While recycling is laughable at best, they do make rubbish disappear. All-be-it, they always go thru whatever they take, so be smart: shred important documents and tech.

  Blue Boon Net Construction, the monopoly man's only way to travel. If you drive or use public transportation, hopefully you have the correct ever-changing subscriptions to use the roads you intend to travel on. If not, look forward to taking on a new payday loan for the bill or being jailed.

  Eel-lectric Talon LLC, West Texas' imminent domain champion and main source of precious electricity. With a history of taking up poor citizens' homes to build new facilities, no one is safe from them simply bulldozing that same day. And, don't dare complain unless you want services cut off or falsified billing for the rest of your life.

  Uncovering all of this with disturbed obsession, cracked into a sharp clarity that shifted Diceil's focus. Plans cranked n' stirred up top. Government change wasn't possible through civil action anymore. He had to shift power within the services people depend on to live. If those utilities were back in the hands of the people, shifting to a co-op business model, perhaps we might one day see civil action matter again? These ideas weighed on Diceil's mind. He would take this burden. He would change things, for he had nothing else to lose.

  Diceil carried on with the procedure. As he neared the right collar bone, cutting, pushing, and popping, more of his packages had been delivered to Jeff's. Jeff, being uniquely Jeff, always moved any packages delivered to his doorstep to Diceil's, thinking that it was the government attempting to steal his information, so Diceil took advantage of the situation. One of the first things Mr. Rockmore made sure to do when he got to his apartment on that red night of protest, was to have Dargee inject a false cookie file to modify the Texas Department of Consumers' records, declaring him as a casualty of the protest as similar data was being entered. Better to be declared dead than be under more surveillance. Not that it mattered much, the incident was labeled as an attempted terrorist attack and painted the heavily armed Texas Rangers as survivors and patriots later on in the media. Predictable.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  "That Should Be The Essentials! Gain Aid Muscle Nano Culture, Chan Chan Nexus Cybernetic Adaptation Dee-N-Apin. A TerraGiga Max Capacity Cyber Battery, Clickin' Ben's Liquid Nickel-Alloy Organ Coating And One Gallon Of 45% Industrial Grade Pure Vinegar! I Made Sure To Order In Reasonable Batches To Avoid Suspicion Of Course! The Other, Heavier, Items Will Arrive In A Timely Manner, Assuming No Body Rejections Happen During Your Cyber Quinceanera!"

  "Thanks Dargee... In a time like this... It's good to have you here by my side... Especially with that dark humor of yours... it always puts a little smile on my face..."

  "DAD… BETTER MEOW? FOOD?" humbly spoke Beanie Toe.

  "Yes my little bean, things are getting better." Diceil began to rub his kitty's chin: "I will feed ya… and I'm gonna teach you a few new feisty tricks to boot..."

  ~~

  Diceil continued to work on the dermal computer, finishing the basic hardware installation after about 43 days. During this time, the cyber adaptation Dee-N-Apin had taken full effect, allowing the throat coating and battery to implant without issues and finally allowing him to eat some solid food again. A hair mod he was working on was almost done, but not online quite yet, needing more parts because of its complexity. The muscle nano culture put his whole body in a state of constant itchiness and shedding of layers of dead skin, but his entire body frame went from gaunty to himbo as a result. Most of his items had arrived at this point and it was time to speed up his transformation. It was time to transfer Dargee onto the dermal computer itself.

  "Alright Dargee, the framework is set, it's time to fuse!"

  Diceil, using the electro mag gem embedded in his left palm, levitated one of the many usb cords he had implanted into his forearms and shoved it into his desktop's usb slot with an eager "cuh-chunk."

  "Fu… sion… Haa!" Dargee gleefully proclaimed, dragging his own DarGru.rar executable file onto Diceil's Derma hard drive window.

  As the transfer began, sparks of electricity buzzed and popped out of both the computer and Diceil's arm. The smell of burnt silicone and plastic wandered the room. Something had gone haywire. It was too late to pull the plug. If Diceil pulled out before the transfer was complete, Dargee would likely get corrupt or worse: Diceil's derma computer would fry him from the inside out and explode the battery under his right shoulder bone.

  "Fucking shit! Dargee, what the fuck is happening?!"

  No response from Dargee.

  Meanwhile, Beanie Toe is losing his mind and runs to the kitchen:

  "WE ARE GONNA DIE! MEOW MEOW MEOW! DEATH MEOW! SHADAMAKADOOMCHUCKLES!" (the translator, in error, was trying its best to form whatever Beanie Toe was trying to communicate at that time.)

  "Dammit! I am not giving up! You think I’m just gonna pull out?! I will survive! electrocution be damned!"

  Diceil's vision shifted. Everything was a dark indigo for some reason. In fact, it was as if time had slowed to a crawl. His surroundings began to warp as if he was in the center of a globe of glass. The smell of burnt electronics had turned into the smell of something similar to burnt toast. A chill climbed Diceil's spine, before a sudden shift into pitch blackness. The darkness only lasted a second, but everything went right back to how it was before his vision changed back to normal.

  "Transfer Complete! Dargee-Diceil Fusion Successful!"

  There on the little 6-inch monitor implanted on Diceil's left shoulder displayed his AI companion, skull and bones n’ all.

  "Oh Thank Jesus, that was scary AF! It's ok Beanie Toe, you can come back out!" exhausted Diceil.

  Beanie Toe, hunched, slowly slipped out of the kitchen cabinet door under the sink, meowing and glancing about cautiously.

  Looking around, Diceil saw that his Desktop computer was fully melted, all the way to the wall outlets. Completely unsalvageable. The usb he used had melted as well, though only the connector, leaving a gray cord with a blackened tip. It felt like stepping through a new door into the cold.

  "Beginning Full Body Defrag And Optimization! How You Doing Buckaroo?"

  The pain Diceil was experiencing from his fresh cybernetics began to fade at an unholy pace, though it was accompanied by the odd taste of pool water temporarily. A great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, giving him more range and flexibility. Better control of his electro mag gem surged, allowing him to control all his usbs with precision instantaneously. In fact, he was able to output more energy for even better electro magnetic manipulation than originally thought. Dargee had taken Diceil to the next level in cybernetics, even with older hardware implants being used!

  "Oh dang Dargee, I feel fan-freakin-tastic!"

  Dargee, with a proud expression, rose his bones up happily: "Congratulations My Friend On Your Cyber Quinceanera! Feliz Cumpleanos!"

  "Thank ya, thank ya!" smirked Diciel, with Beanie Toe rubbing along his leg, letting out a congratulatory meow.

  This small accomplishment lifted Diceil's spirits, but he knew they had just caused a little bit of unwanted commotion for a supposedly dead man's apartment. He would have to wait on the other modifications to his body, missing out on some packages yet to be delivered. Sorry Jeff. It was time for Diceil to let go of his old life, his old apartment. He made up his mind: he would become the terrorist they feared. A vigilante, he shall become. Diceil embraced the attire he wore during the protest, and assembled it into his quote-on-quote “hero's attire.”

  The, now rough looking and tight fitting, white dress shirt: to represent the hard worker who fights to survive.

  The black slacks from before, now with acid bleached white flames on the front: to represent the fire in everyone's stomach to fight those of greed.

  His blue, now dyed black, blood soaked clip on tie: to keep close the life and home he lost.

  The old black leather boots from work: to represent a better Texas from the past.

  And finally, some leftover dark blue ribbon cables modded into the sides of his skull for a retractable protective mask: embracing his, as his AI companion put it, "Cyber Quinceanera."

  "Hey Beanie Toe and DarGee, I've been thinking and planning out our next steps." Diceil said with a serious tone on his breath.

  "We can longer live here. I survived, but things need change so others won't have to go through what we have gone through. I know I gave y'all a scare bleeding everywhere, sorry about that. I saw mothers, children, and a close friend slaughtered in front of me. It's fucked me up mentally, but I remain sane and hungry for justice. This trauma will dissipate over time, but I must take action now. I must change this nation where it matters now. Will you please join me?"

  There was no awkward silence.

  "MEOW! I GO WHERE HUMAN GOES! ONLY CONDITION: FULL BELLY, AND MORE WET FOOD!" shouted Beanie Toe.

  "Hey Buddy, I Can't Really Go Anywhere Else, Plus My Home Is Melted Down At The Moment. All I Ask Is You Connect Me To The Internet Every Now And Then. Can't Let These Old Files Get Stagnant With Outdated Data!" Chimed in DarGee.

  Fighting back a tear, Diceil replied:

  "Hell ya! I was hoping y'all would stick with me, even at my lowest! But, I do have some bad news: DarGee, buddy, I'm taking your name as my new identity."

  "Wait What?! That's Low To Take Your Best Friend's Name! Stealing My Identity?! I Thought I Was The Malicious Program Here!" DarGee, showing clear disagreement waving his bones angrily on screen.

  "It's ok DarGee, It's not exactly the same, but I will need to change your name to avoid some confusion. Your new name is now Rawker, Kind of like the .Rar at the end of your file plus rocker, like the badass rock music singers of the past!"

  DarGee, now Rawker, showing mild approval retorts: "Fine, I Accept My New Username, I Do Enjoy That Dead Genre The Most, Not Gonna Lie. The MP4 Files Your Family Have Passed Down For Generations Does Hold Special Meaning To Me Too, It's Like I Was There In A Weird Way. So My Friend, What Do I Call You Now???"

  Diceil, putting on his best heroic stoic voice:

  "Call me... DarkGeek!"