With a sudden jerk, you smack the back of your arm against the man's hand, and the device goes flying off to one side, hitting the floor with a metallic twang. The man looks momentarily stunned. It's clear he hadn't anticipated that move, especially from you.

You return the favour by not anticipating the base of his hand smacking you squarely in the nose. You feel sharply disorientated, as though the universe has decided to take a quick spin and didn't inform you. Your senses are flooded with agony, fading to a bitter smell and taste of copper.

There's every possibility you've just fallen to the floor, as you can now clearly see the man's black combat boots directly ahead of you at a 90 degree angle to normality. But you're not done yet. You grab viciously for his leg, and sink your teeth in, determined to be the victor of this particular conflict.

But it's not to be. His other leg is in prime position to kick you soundly in the forehead.

Everything goes dark.

When you wake, you're strapped to an upright surgical table. You can feel you're missing a few teeth, and your face feels bruised, like someone repeatedly struck it with a blunt object.

In the lab ahead of you, two scientist-types (replete with the respective paraphernalia of lab coat and black goggles) stop fiddling with the complex instruments holding their attention and turn to face you.

"Ah," says one, a grin plastered across his face. "Subject alpha awakens."

"Wherrr amm I...?" you gurgle, hazily.

"You're in QuarrixCo labs," responds the other, slightly taller one. "Specifically the Weapons Development Division."

"Weappponnsh?" you inquire.

"Yeah," replies the first. "You were down as a business drone, but after that little display on the shuttle you've been reclassified as a combat sentry. The agent trailing you was very impressed with your coordination and violence!"

"Buuuh," you object, weakly.

"Shhh, now," says the second one. "We just needed you awake to gain your consent before we add the combat cybernetics."

"Mmmmggghhh," you mumble, consciousness fading.

"Sounds like consent to me!" laughs the first.

And, so it becomes, you're reassigned as an agent of violence, serving to protect QuarrixCo from the unkind and destructive instincts of its competitors. Your career will probably be short lived, as they so often are in this field, but who knows? It wouldn't be the first time you've surpassed expectations.


This is an open ending. Depending on how you feel about becoming a living weapon of destruction, this could be good or bad. It could even be the beginning of a completely different adventure. If you'd prefer to give this adventure another shot, pop on back to page 1.