My Final Enemy is Me

6. Echoes of the Past

"So, you’re just going to stand there and stare, or are you going to take a swing?" Frathan asked, his hand drifting toward the hilt of his blade.

The double, a mirror image of himself in every way except for the cold, hollow gaze, didn't move. "Swing? That’s so primitive, don't you think? We’re beyond simple brawls, Frathan."

"We, huh? You’ve got a real funny definition of 'we' for someone who looks like a glitchy photocopy," Frathan muttered, shifting his weight.

"I’m the optimized version," the double said, stepping into the dim light. "The one that doesn't hesitate. The one that doesn't waste time on 'feelings' or 'ghosts.'"

Frathan spat on the stone, his eyes narrowing. "You’re a script. A pre-recorded loop with a nasty attitude."

"And you’re a bug in the code," the double countered, a thin, cruel smile spreading across his face. "A bug that’s about to be deleted."

"You talk an awful lot for a dead man walking," Frathan hissed, his fingers brushing the parchment in his pocket.

The double chuckled, the sound distorted, like a corrupted audio file. "Run along then. Follow the little map Seraphina left you. See where it leads."

Frathan didn't wait. He bolted, diving into the narrow alleyway behind the ruins. The air shifted, the oppressive weight of the entity fading as he pushed his legs to their limit.

"System, give me a status check. Where’s the nearest exit from this grid?" Frathan panted, rounding a corner.

"Navigation locked: The Echo Path. Distance: Six kilometers," the system chirped. "Warning: Signature exposure high. Bounty hunters detected."

"Bounty hunters? Great. Just what I needed for the commute," Frathan groaned, skidding into a thicket of dead, gray-barked trees.

He didn't stop until he reached a high ridge overlooking a valley of jagged obsidian. He pulled the parchment out, his hands shaking slightly. It wasn't a map of roads; it was a map of static.

"If I follow the interference," Frathan whispered, "I find the quiet spots."

"Hey! You! The one with the scrap-heap coat!" a voice barked from the brush behind him.

Frathan spun around, hand on his pistol. Three men stood there, dressed in reinforced synth-leather armor. They looked like they hadn't slept in a week.

"Who’s asking?" Frathan said, his voice level.

"The guys who are about to collect a massive bounty on your head," the leader, a scarred man with a cybernetic eye, growled. "You’re the one causing the glitches, right? The 'Anomaly'?"

"Anomaly? I’m just a guy trying to get to work," Frathan replied, offering a tight, humorless grin.

"Cut the crap," one of the others sneered, drawing a vibro-blade that hummed with a sickly green light. "The bosses are paying a fortune for a live capture. Don't make us peel you off the floor in chunks."

Frathan tilted his head. "Live capture? That’s good to know. Gives me some bargaining power."

"You don't have power," the leader laughed, stepping forward. "You have a pulse. And it’s about to stop."

"Tell me," Frathan said, taking a step backward toward the edge of the ridge, "how much are they paying for me?"

"More than you’re worth, kid. Now, stand down."

"See, that’s the problem," Frathan said, his back touching the cool, damp rock of the canyon wall. "I’m not really a 'stand-down' kind of guy."

"He’s stalling!" the leader shouted. "Take him!"

Frathan dropped to the ground, pulling the pin on a flash-grenade he’d scavenged from a previous kill. "Catch!"

A blinding white light washed over the ridge. The hunters shrieked, clutching their eyes.

"Move!" Frathan yelled at himself, sprinting straight toward the canyon floor.

"You’re running into a death zone!" the system blared in his head. "Stalker Beast nesting ground ahead!"

"Exactly," Frathan whispered.

He leaped from the ridge, sliding down the loose shale of the canyon wall with reckless speed. He heard the boots of the hunters behind him, stumbling as their vision cleared.

"Get him! Don't let him slip away!" the leader roared.

Frathan hit the valley floor, his boots sinking into soft, rot-smelling peat. He didn't look back until he reached the center of the nesting site—a field of massive, pulsating eggs.

"Hey, sleepyheads!" Frathan shouted, slamming his blade into the nearest egg.

The ground shuddered. A low, tectonic growl echoed from the shadows of the canyon walls. Three massive, obsidian-scaled beasts emerged, their eyes burning with primal rage.

"Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me," the leader’s voice drifted down from the ridge, full of sudden, sharp terror.

"Nice to meet you!" Frathan yelled up at them. "I’m the bait!"

The beasts didn't look at Frathan. They looked at the three hunters charging down the slope, their metallic gear ringing out like a dinner bell.

"Scatter! Run, you morons!" the leader screamed.

Frathan watched from behind a jagged boulder as the chaos unfolded. The beasts tore through the hunters like they were made of paper. The screams were brief, sharp, and quickly silenced.

"Status: Threat neutralized," the system said.

"Neutralized? I’d call that a clean getaway," Frathan muttered, wiping sweat from his brow.

He moved toward the center of the nest. He needed the key, the fragment mentioned in the note. A faint, violet glow pulsed from beneath a pile of organic debris.

"Almost there," he breathed, reaching down to pull away a layer of slime.

He froze. It wasn't just a fragment. It was a projection, a recorded message flickering in the air. A face formed—a woman with amber eyes. Seraphina.

"Frathan," the recording whispered, her voice echoing in the dead air. "If you’re seeing this, you’ve survived the hunters. But they aren't the ones you should fear."

"Seraphina? Where are you?" Frathan reached for the image, his hand passing through the cold light.

"They have me, Frathan," she said, her expression pained. "They took me to the Capital. The Spire. If you want the truth—if you want to get out of this cycle—that’s where you have to go."

Frathan’s heart skipped a beat. "The Capital? That’s a suicide run."

"It’s the only way," the recording continued, her eyes searching his. "The system… it isn't a program, Frathan. It’s a cage. And I’m the key. Come for me, or let the cycle reset. It’s your choice."

The image flickered and dissolved into static.

Frathan stood in the silence of the nest, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.

"System," he whispered. "How far to the Capital?"

"Destination: The Spire. Distance: Three hundred kilometers. Probability of survival: 0.0001%."

Frathan looked at the road ahead, his eyes narrowing into a dangerous, focused slit.

"Those are better odds than I’ve had all day," he said, and started walking toward the horizon, where the massive, dark silhouette of the Capital waited in the crimson sky.