The Fallen Alpha’s Pregnancy
Liam yells over the deafening roar of the automatic weapons.
"I am a machine, Liam!" I shout back, grabbing a dropped assault rifle from the floor and checking the magazine with terrifying, calculated precision. "But I'm *your* machine now!"
I pivot, raising the rifle, and lay down a suppressing fire that forces the remaining bounty hunters back behind the steel containers. The tactical HUD flashes in my peripheral vision, a ghost of my old interface mapping out every enemy position, every escape route, every heartbeat in the room. I don't want to see it, but I use it. I use every cursed advantage they gave me to keep us alive.