“Uhh… hello? Do I know you from somewhere?” John asks the golden eyed man, unfortunate to see that this is probably the end of his shift. He labels the man ‘Golden-eye’ in his head.

  Golden-eye gets off the railings and smiles at John, the two making uneasy eye contact. “Yes. I think you do.” He says, noticing John's right hand trembling slightly. Yet, he observes John's face and sees a genuine look of passiveness. Mixed messaging emanates off of him. “The Grand Briggs Plaza right?” Golden-eye asked in a friendly manner.

  A MeKSUT walks behind Golden-eye in the background as he answers. John uses it to break eye contact with him slightly— to try and play himself off as an ordinary, regular civilian.

  “Yeah… yeah! That's where it was from. Funny to see you here man. I was happy to see you got rid of— my annoying neighbor.” John choked slightly, almost spilling the word ‘our’.

  “You are most welcome.” Replied Golden-eye, the two of near-equal height. “He was quite the strange man, I'll tell ya.”

  “Yeah.” Replies John, coming off as oddly comfortable. “Then again, those types are a dime a dozen these days.”

  “That's an old saying. Last I checked, we use credits.” Golden-eye replies surprised. For as much as it is an act, he feels he's slightly enjoying this conversation.

  John stands up straight and folds his arms. “So, what're you doing here? Did they take you off of spading duties or something?”

  “Not quite.” Golden-eye replies, a threat buried deep into that statement as he rolls up another ciggie. “You're not a hard one to find John. I've got a few questions to ask you, that's all.”

  “Uhh, okay?” Says John, rather nonchalant. “Look man, I'd love to talk for longer but I've got a shift to do. I can talk to you after alright?”

  John tries to walk past but Golden-eye stops him, putting his hand on his shoulder, speaking a bit quieter. “I wouldn't do that if I was you.”

  John looks at him, a look of confusion somehow on his face. He backs up from the MeKSUT while maintaining eye contact with Golden-eye, his true name still unknown to John.

  “Do what? My fucking job?” Golden-eye raises an eyebrow, John appearing frustrated. “Yeah, well, I'm sure you wouldn't do my job considering you're all squeaky clean and have a bajillion credit suit.”

  Golden-eye folds his arms as he observes this rant unfolding. “Look man, I have a leg to pay off and a mouth to feed. And I actually like my job for a change so I'd prefer some random asshole like yourself not get in the way.”

  Golden-eye’s face is smug at John's display, but a part of him is almost convinced with the act. “Are you done yet?” He asks.

  John replies, maintaining his frustration. “Are you gonna move?”

  Golden-eye finds himself impressed with John. He admires his tonal ignorance, and so humors his attempt.

  “Go on then. Complete your shift. I'll be waiting for you near the virtual reality pods.” The term virtual reality causes a minor pit to open inside John, almost jeopardizing his act. “And just so you know, if I don't meet you there in an hour, I'll be able to find you again.”

  Golden-eye promises, tapping him on the back as he moves elsewhere. “Sure thing, boss sauce.” John replies.

  The pilot pod closes to the outside world and pressures. The moment would've been lovely, getting back into this blessed machine. Were in not for that fresh encounter. John mutters to himself as the machine starts up.

  “What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.”

  There is simply no way he is going to be having a productive shift. And so, he starts scrambling for ideas, his bottled up panic coming to ahead.

  What was he going to do? Was he going to run? But the man tracked him down all this way somehow, someway. Was he going to fight? Well, not likely.

  As John stomps the MeKSUT to the appropriate warehouse, all of the possibilities are crossed in his head. Bad ones.

  Why did he let him go? His act couldn't have been more abnormal. Unnatural. There's no way he's convinced of innocence.

  “What the fuck is happening?!” Yells in his suit, hyperventilating. He places his brain on autopilot as he loads boxes onto a mass hauler. He isn't even sure if it is the right one, he just went for it.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  He checks the time, oh no, fifteen minutes have already passed yet he has no plan.

  His brain spins around in circles some more and… Jesus Christ thirty minutes have passed. The magnitude of the situation simmers. John randomly decides to drop what he's doing and call his boss through the MeKSUT speaker system.

  “Hey, you're back! What is it?” His Boss asks. John tries to make his thoughts coherent as he answers, panicked but controlled.

  “Yeah boss I uh… I've got a problem. I need to meet with you right now.” His boss sounds tired, or maybe lazy. He can't quite tell.

  “Yeah sorry that won't do, I'm a little bus—”

  “It's life-threatening.” John interrupts. His boss risks a pay cut if another one of his staff gets injured and so he goes along with it. “Alright. Meet me in the mechanics bay again. Or the medibay?”

  “Mechanical is great, see you there.” John says, his boss hanging up. The suit exits out the warehouse, back through the yard and storm.

  The storm water pelts his MeKSUT, the idea of whether or not the thing is bulletproof or laser-proof crosses his mind. The lights above the huge door into the main hall from the yard remain open. He proceeds through, and takes a right into mechanical.

  He sees his boss standing under the huge entrance. John parks just beyond him, blocking some of it as he gets out of the suit. This incurs the disapproval of his boss, who approaches him rather pissed.

  “This better be important if you're gonna screw procedure like that.”

  John drags him into the corner of the grand entrance way to talk a little quieter. “It's Crosby's shift after mine right?”

  His boss is offended by his touch but goes along with it. “Yes?” His boss answers. John puts his hand on his back pulling him closer and speaking low.

  “Look man, I'm going to sound crazy, but I need to tell you. There is a dude with golden eyes hunting me. He destroyed my neighbors apartment and took him away. He's gonna do the same to me.”

  “Okay?” Asks his boss rather detached. “Why the Hell should I care? Sounds like a personal problem.” John scampers for justification.

  “I— I just need you to tell Crosby to start his shift early. It'll… make me look unproductive as shit and… uh… help your corporate issues. Yeah. Look man, you have to trust me.”

  His boss slaps his hand off of him, rather frustrated.

  “Why the fuck do I have to do that? Calm the fuck down. He should be in the docking bays already.”

  John sighs in relief, bringing his composure together.

  “Oh, phew, great.” John yells, running to hop back in the MeKSUT, his cyberleg proving speedy. “You are a lifesaver boss.”

  As he climbs in and closes the hatch, his boss warns him. “Park there again and I'll extend your contract!”

  John pilots the suit with a renewed focus. Fourty minutes have passed. The outside world may as well be mute and void with his honed determination.

  The panic has largely subsided, now replaced with anticipation and assuredness… mostly.

  His mind flashes back to the battle with the creature in the cave briefly. He is brought back as the pod depressurizes and he exits. Running along the lava-glow catwalk, he spots Crosby who seems to have spotted him first. He reaches his arm out with a smile, but John simply doesn't have the time.

  “Crosby, it's good to see you. I have a problem. A huge problem. There's a man hunting me and he has gold eyes.”

  “What? Right now?”

  Crosby asked, in good spirits but taken by surprise.

  “Yes.” John spatters. “He's waiting for me by the virtual simulators. I have to go see him otherwise I'm fucked. Look, we're gonna have to do the plan. There is no time.”

  “Shit.” Crosby says, looking around metallic crucibles they call a maintenance way. “Getting the others won't do squat if you’re with the dude face-to-face.” He tries thinking of something on the spot. Something daring. “I’ll go with you, how about that?”

  “No. Won't work. If he sees me with backup God knows what will happen.” A bell goes off in Crosby's head as he looks behind John.

  “...I think I just got an idea.” He says, looking at a MeKSUT. “Here's the plan. I'll try to distract him for a little while and then you take him out with the MeKSUT from behind?”

  “For real?! You're fucking crazy.” John says, mixed with concern and a hell-yeah energy. Crosby replies, seeming to have made his mind up.

  “I will take literally any excuse to end the monotony. But only if I'm coming with you and you've found a resistance.”

  John takes deep breaths, his brain getting better at processing life-changing events given the past three days. “I have. I appreciate it. But it isn't what you'd expect.”

  “I don't care.” Crosby replies, keen to affect something for once. “We've got meetup points with all the others once I tell them. I'll rush to give them the signals once you've squashed that dude with the eyes.”

  John takes a final deep breath, and exhales out fully. He opens his eyes and two resonate, almost like no time had passed since their last conversation.

  “Well yeah. Fuck it. It's all out in the air now. Let's do it.” John says, reaching his hand out to Crosby. Crosby smacks it back, the masculinity would ooze out of it if it was tangible.

  “I've got you, brother John!”