A tale of mystery, thrill, and erotic love.
Vance Steward only wanted to start over.
His wish was granted - but not in the ways he'd expected.
Chased by a Kraken responsible for the murder of their commander, fighter pilot Vance Steward and his crew...
Vihkir pouts. He shoves his creation toward my chest. "You can, and you will."
"But... How did you even... This would cost a fortune to normally—"
He scratches his cheek with a single finger. "I do admit it was a bit difficult at first, since this is basically all ancient cables and technology I've never seen before... However!" Vihkir points to a corner of the room.
I squint and eventually spot Maxwell, asleep on a nearby bench.
"This one helped me," he says. "I don't know what a fortlume, or whatever it is you called it, is. However, I can assure you, this is rightfully yours." Vihkir delivers the electronic limb into my arms. "We might need to make a few adjustments though, for, you know...calibrating, measurements and such. But! It should be complete in less than an hour or two."
"How can I ever thank you?" I say, grasping his work tightly in my arms, unable to think, or to even find the right words. If this works...then I could...I could live again.
I could fight again.
Vihkir pets the empty spot beside him. He smirks. "Sitting down and getting it fitted by yours truly would perhaps be a start."
My smile almost hurts my cheeks. I laugh and wipe a tear from my jaw. I'm going to walk again! I think. I'm going to get my leg back.
I'm going...to get my myself back.
"Sure," I say, as I limp toward him.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
