The Devil Of Red

Chapter 1.1: Coffee and CiberAngel Cleanup

Alexander returned to his apartment, the coffee canister snugly tucked under one arm. The door shut behind him with a satisfying click, muffling the distant sound of a fire alarm—undoubtedly from whatever was left of the cyborg outside. He poured himself a steaming cup of coffee, its rich aroma filling the room as he collapsed back onto his couch, book momentarily abandoned.

Balancing the cup in one hand, he flicked his other wrist, summoning his Univisor—a translucent, floating interface that shimmered to life before his eyes. As he sipped his coffee, he casually navigated through a sprawling inventory of items, technologies, and inventions he had conjured into existence. Most of them were absurdly overpowered or just absurd.

His fingers danced across the screen, stopping on an entry labeled "AI-Powered Self-Learning Airplane—FREE DELIVERY". He smirked and adjusted the price to $5. "Why not? It's not like I need the money," he muttered. With his limitless technological abilities, wealth was meaningless. If he wanted diamonds, he'd grow them in his sink. Gold? He could turn his trash into ingots for sport.

Seconds later, the listing sold. A notification chimed: "Your buyer will arrive shortly!"

Alexander sipped his coffee, unbothered. He had barely taken a second sip when a knock echoed through the apartment. "Fast delivery," he muttered, standing up and opening the door.

On the threshold stood a figure of blinding majesty. Wings made of radiant, translucent circuitry unfurled from the figure's back, emitting a soft, angelic hum. Its body was sleek, metallic, and impossibly intricate, with glowing veins of white light coursing through every limb. The being's eyes burned with an otherworldly brilliance, and a halo of spinning, golden gears floated above its head.

"I have come," the CiberAngel intoned in a voice that resonated with divine authority and the faint buzz of a high-powered server.

Alexander leaned casually against the doorframe. "You're here for the plane?"

"The transaction was but a pretense," the CiberAngel said, stepping into the room without invitation. Its mechanical wings folded with a soft whir. "You, Alexander Voss, are a danger to existence itself. Your unholy melding of technology and omnipotence—"

"Unholy? That's rich coming from a cybernetic angel," Alexander quipped, taking another sip of his coffee.

The CiberAngel's glowing eyes narrowed. "Your hubris ends here."

Alexander sighed and placed his coffee on the counter. "It's always something." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a simple wooden toothpick. "Let's make this quick. I'm not missing my second cup over you."

The CiberAngel lunged, wings outstretched in a dazzling display of light and fury. Alexander barely moved. With a flick of his wrist, he jabbed the toothpick into the angel's side. A soft ping echoed, followed by a moment of silence.

The CiberAngel looked down, confused.

Then Alexander struck again. And again. Each touch of the toothpick sent ripples of distortion through the angelic figure. By the fifth poke, the being was visibly glitching, its form fracturing into shards of light and sparks.

One final tap, and the CiberAngel exploded in a shower of metallic feathers and glowing, viscous blood that splattered across the apartment walls.

Alexander stood amidst the carnage, letting out a long, exasperated sigh. "What is it with everyone exploding today?"

Grabbing a towel, he began wiping down his walls and furniture, grumbling under his breath. "Angelic blood. Great. That's never coming out of the carpet."

Once the mess was dealt with, he sat back down, picked up his coffee, and stared at the Univisor. "Maybe I should list something else. Like a toaster that doesn't explode. For once."

He took another sip, leaned back, and resumed reading, as if nothing unusual had happened.