The Reaper closed in.
Fast. Precise. A killing machine.
Ryo barely had time to react as the plasma blade whipped toward his throat.
He twisted—just barely dodging—but the heat seared across his cheek, flesh blistering from the near miss.
Pain flared.
But he didn't have time to feel it.
Survival Instincts
Ryo countered instantly, driving a fist toward the Reaper's helmet.
The impact landed—a direct hit.
And the Reaper?
Didn't even flinch.
Instead—
It grabbed Ryo's wrist in midair.
Squeezed.
> [WARNING: FRACTURE DETECTED.]
CRACK.
Ryo snarled, barely biting back a scream as his bone gave way.
> "Oh, yeah. This thing is BUILT different."
Death at Arm's Reach
The Reaper's red eye flared, scanning him.
> "Your resistance is irrelevant. You are a failed prototype."
> "Your existence is a mistake."
Then—it drove its blade forward.
Straight for Ryo's heart.
The Last Second Counter
THUNK.
The blade stopped inches from his chest.
Because Vos's sniper round slammed into the Reaper's head.
The force snapped its head back, the red eye flickering.
Ryo ripped free, adrenaline burning through him.
This was it.
A tiny opening.
A single chance.
And he took it.
Breaking the Machine
Ryo lunged.
Grabbed the Reaper's arm.
And wrenched it out of its socket.
The mechanical limb tore free, sparks and fluid gushing from the severed joint.
The Reaper **staggered—**the first sign of actual damage.
Then, for the first time—
It laughed.
> "Interesting."
> "You may not be a failure after all."
Then—it vanished.
Enemy Disengaged
Ryo gasped, body shaking, scanning the area.
The Reaper was gone.
The dust settled. The battlefield fell silent.
> [THREAT LEVEL: UNKNOWN. ENEMY RETREATING.]
> [REASON: INSUFFICIENT DATA. TARGET WILL BE REEVALUATED.]
Ryo clenched his bleeding fist.
He knew exactly what that meant.
The Reaper wasn't done.
It was studying him.
And the next time it came back—
It wouldn't just be to erase him.
It would be to see what he had become.