Raven slipped through the crowd, nodding his head slightly to the rhythm of the music. There was a rhythm in his steps, a sharp purpose in his eyes. At that moment, he was like a chameleon walking in its natural habitat; he knew exactly what caught attention and what needed to stay invisible. His focus was entirely on the bar counter. Or rather, the woman standing behind it.
The bartender… Her black, cropped top matched her shoulder-length black hair with purple streaks. Neon blue strands hidden between her locks sparkled like winks with every play of the light. The silver piercing on her left eyebrow added a rebellious grace to her otherwise simple yet striking face. Her eyes… they weren’t cold, but they had hardened over the years. They held a clarity like glass, yet a depth so fragile.
Raven sat on a barstool and leaned on the counter. The exhaustion in his body receded for a moment. The bartender looked impressive as she shook a metal cocktail shaker in rhythm with the music. Her movements were graceful—more of a performance than just making a drink. When she set the shaker aside and approached Raven, the volume of the music forced them closer.
“What can I get you?” she asked.
“The strongest dri—”
Before Raven could finish his sentence, he jolted from a sudden electric shock that shot through his body. That familiar burning sensation traveled from his spine to his brain, accompanied by ION’s voice echoing in his mind.
“According to Western Union law, consumption of alcohol by individuals under the age of 18 is prohibited.”
Raven flinched in pain for a moment, but the mischievous smile on his face never faded. Raising his eyebrows, he replied:
“Alright, alright… Lemonade. And I got a question.”
The bartender girl let out a soft grunt and bent down behind the counter. As she bent over, Raven politely averted his gaze. Soon, a foggy glass appeared in her hand, the coldness seeping into the glass. She poured in the lemonade, the carbonation fizzing softly. Before handing over the glass, she extended her slender wrist toward Raven. On it was a small payment device.
“50 creds. And I don’t deal with junkies, sweetheart.”
Raven’s smile faded slightly. He pulled out his electronic device, brought it close to the wristband, and with a ‘click’, the transaction was complete. The text on the screen blinked briefly:
Transaction Complete. Balance: 734 Credits.
“There used to be an old man running this place!” Raven said after taking a sip from his glass.
“He had a daughter and a little granddaughter! Do you know where they are now?!”
That sentence caused a flicker in the bartender’s eyes. She squinted at him with suspicion.
“Hmm… doesn’t ring a bell!”
Raven leaned in a bit more. His face had hardened with seriousness.
“His daughter’s name was Keira… the kid was Diana!”
He puffed out his cheek and spread his arms.
“She was a chubby little thing! Had these bright blue eyes, just like yours! She’s gotta be, what… seventeen now? She used to follow me around and say she’d marry me when she grew up!”
That last sentence made the bartender frown. A slight tension appeared at the edge of her nose. As Raven looked around, he noticed an old digital picture hanging on the wall behind the bar. He pointed with his fingers.
“Ha! Those people in that picture!” he said excitedly.
“The old guy in the middle! Grandpa Wilhelm! The woman next to him—Keira! And that chubby one’s D! I mean Diana! Look, that sweet boy’s me! And that other kid is my brother, Rex!”
The bartender girl looked at the picture, then back at Raven. Her eyes widened gradually. Her lips parted, but no sound came at first. Then, with teary eyes and a shocked smile, she murmured:
“Raven?! Holy shit… Is it really you?”
Raven frowned. There wasn’t the slightest sign that he recognized the woman in front of him. And forgetting beautiful women wasn’t in his nature. But… as he focused on her eyes… something… a warmth, an echo…
Something exploded inside his head. Old images flashed in his mind like the laughter of a child from years ago.
“D…” he whispered.
“Diana… or… what’s left of her?”
Suddenly, a fist landed on his head. Raven groaned, clutching his skull.
“ARGH!”
Diana leaned over from the other side of the bar and pulled Raven in. She hugged him. Tightly. While the bar shook with chaotic music, that moment of embrace felt outside of time. Raven couldn’t see the woman’s tears, but he could feel them through the dampness of her skin.
“You bastard…” Diana said in a hoarse voice.
“Why did you leave without a word? Why didn’t you say anything?”
Raven closed his eyes. The music, the crowd, the lights… all faded into the background. Within him, memories opened like the pages of an old notebook scattered by the wind. This city… this dim bar… the smell of alcohol and sweat soaked into the counter… And now, this young woman embracing him with trembling arms… All of it brought back a time he had lost like a ghost returning from the past.
The once-chubby-cheeked, laughing little Diana… now clung to him with eyes full of tears, voice laced with anger and longing. In that moment, Raven felt the full weight of everything he had left behind settle on his shoulders.
Just then, a high-pitched voice came from the other end of the bar. A group of customers waved impatiently, shouting, “Hey Diana! Look over here!”
Diana wiped her tears and pulled away from Raven. Her tone was harsh, but her eyes were still soft.
“If you run off, I’ll stab you!” she said, then quickly turned to the other side of the bar.
Raven smiled faintly. His lemonade was nearly gone, but the ache inside him remained fresh. Diana was watching him out of the corner of her eye. As the tempo of the bar picked up, the noise of orders, clinking glasses, and heavy bass overwhelmed the place. Diana grabbed another synth lemonade and refilled Raven’s glass. This time, she said nothing and didn’t ask for payment.
“Got a spare payment device?!” Raven asked while downing his drink.
Diana looked at him as if trying to figure out what he meant, then understood. “Yeah!” she said. She pulled a second wristband device from under the counter and tossed it to him.
Raven jumped over the bar in one swift move and landed beside Diana. A few customers looked up in surprise, but the action melted into the chaos of the bar. Raven strapped on the payment device and glanced at Diana. She paused for a moment, tilting her head slightly.
“You haven’t changed one bit.” she said in a low voice.
“Still the same dumb, reckless little punk.”
As Raven made space for himself behind the bar, he whispered,
“ION, help me bartend.”
“I am not programmed for that.” ION replied, his tone noticeably displeased.
Raven took payment from a customer and nodded to the rhythm of the music as he poured alcohol into a glass.
“Come on, ION. Look at how much the girl’s struggling. At least analyze the environment, make my job easier.”
A brief silence… Then ION’s voice echoed again — this time with a cold formality:
“[AOSP-53] Acoustic Optimization and Signal Processing Protocol activated. [IRM-10] Internal Rhythm Manipulator activated. [PSA-02X] Psycho-Social Analysis Module (Experimental Prototype) activated.”
Suddenly, the sound of the bar shifted. The music still played, but as if in the background… order voices became clearer. Raven could now distinguish conversations, see what each customer needed. He was noticing far more detail than usual.
“The man on your left wants to order.”
“The couple in the corner has finished their drinks. Make eye contact.”
“The bald man looks stressed. Chance of leaving without paying: 81%.”
“The drink you’re looking for is on the bottom shelf.”
With ION’s assistance, Raven’s movements sped up. He filled each glass with the right drink, extended the payment device at the right time, winked at the right person. Diana occasionally glanced over, but wasn’t surprised anymore. It was as if a piece of the past had never been lost and was settling back into the bar.
When the bald man’s glass emptied, Raven prepared a new drink and reached out with it — but didn’t hand it over. Instead, he held out the payment device on his wrist.
The man scoffed.
“I’m a regular here. I always pay when I leave!”
Raven rolled his eyes, still nodding to the rhythm of the music. But he didn’t pull back the payment device.
“ION?” he whispered.
“Alcoholic. Low anger threshold. Prone to aggressive behavior. Chance of leaving without paying: 92%.”
At that moment, the man reached to grab the drink. But Raven was faster. He pulled the glass back, grabbed the man by the nape, and slammed his head onto the counter in the blink of an eye. A loud THUD filled the bar.
Diana shouted in alarm.
“Hey! Is there a problem over there?!”
With the man’s head still pinned under his hand, Raven winked at the pretty woman sitting at the next table, then turned to Diana.
“He just passed out! No problem!”
He turned back to the bald man and pulled an electronic wallet from his inner pocket.
“ION… get into his wallet.”
“I have previously refused unethical requests.”
“I’m only taking what he owes for the drinks. Not even a tip.”
After a brief hesitation, ION began the process. Raven deducted the cost of the drinks, checked the remaining balance, and gently laid the man’s arm on the counter.
As the customer count dropped, Raven leaned again toward the woman sitting next to the bald man. He laughed, leaned in, and whispered something. The woman giggled.
ION’s voice returned.
“Chance of impressing the opposite sex: 38%. Her husband is currently in the restroom.”
Raven winked.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“High enough.”
While whispering jokes to the woman, Raven scanned the room with a faint sparkle in his eyes. His words had a melody, as if he were dancing to the rhythm of flirtation instead of simply speaking. Just as the final syllable of his sentence hung in the air, a sudden slap landed on his back.
SLAP!
The smack that resonated down his spine was not just a physical jolt — it was an echo of a long-standing habit from the past. Diana was beside him. She was smiling, yes… but the frown between her brows showed she was irritated.
She took the woman’s glass and replaced it with a full one. Her eyes locked onto Raven’s, as if she had already figured out exactly what he was up to.
“This one’s on the house!” she said, her voice sweet but sharp. Then she grabbed Raven by the ear and started dragging him away.
“Aah! Okay, I surrender!” he said, winking at the woman and making a classic phone gesture with his hand. As the woman smiled and bit her lip, Raven unwillingly followed Diana.
They passed through the back of the bar and entered the staff door. The part-timers had arrived, ready to take over. At the end of the hallway, a heavy iron door creaked open. The stairs were narrow, the steps worn over time. Diana moved quickly ahead, while Raven climbed slowly behind her. It felt like every corner of this building echoed a memory from years ago.
Upstairs was a small hallway. Diana entered the room on the right and came back a few minutes later with a towel, a loose T-shirt, and stretched sweatpants. She dropped them onto Raven’s lap.
“You smell like a fucking dead rat. Go shower. Toss your filthy clothes in the bin.” she said with a grimace.
Raven wanted to smile but wasn’t in any shape to argue. He really did smell like a dead rat. He simply nodded. He knew exactly where the bathroom was. This building had once been his home, too.
A few minutes later, he came out of the shower. His hair was still damp, and the clothes looked ridiculous on him. The shirt drooped from his shoulders, and the sweatpants were double-folded at the waist.
“These your old rags or what?” he asked mockingly.
As he expected, Diana’s punch landed on his head without delay.
THUD!
Raven tried to stifle his laughter.
Just then, Diana’s expression grew serious. Her question instantly changed the atmosphere:
“When is Rex coming?”
Raven’s eyes darkened for a moment. It was as if he were in a tunnel and Diana had suddenly switched on a light. But his expression didn’t change. His answer was calm.
“We parted ways. He’s not coming.”
Diana’s eyes scanned Raven’s for a moment. She wanted to ask, to dig deeper, to hear the truth behind the words — to understand why the two brothers had gone separate ways… But then she fell silent. It wasn’t the right time for that conversation.
“Okay…” Raven said quietly.
“Where’s Aunt Keira?”
A shadow slowly passed over Diana’s face. Her lips trembled, and her eyes drifted off into the distance.
“She couldn’t endure the illness...” she said in a low voice.
“She died last year.”
Her words were like a blade, stabbing into Raven’s chest. His expression hardened, his gaze dropped to the floor.
“I’m sorry...” he said shortly, sincerely. Maybe he wanted to say more… but words felt inadequate.
Silence lingered for a few seconds. Then Diana suddenly punched Raven’s arm. This time it was lighter, more of a warning than a blow. She then quickly headed toward the stairs.
“Grandpa’s waiting for you.” she said in a half-serious, half-playful tone.
“You’re not coming?” Raven asked, following her.
“I’ll check the bar and then join. But just a heads up… Grandpa’s mind isn’t all there anymore.”
As Diana descended the stairs, Raven rolled his eyes and turned to one of the doors.
“When was it ever…” he muttered, grabbing the doorknob.
The only real feature of the room was a massive window covering an entire wall. Starting from where the ceiling met the wall and running all the way to the floor, the glass allowed the city’s neon glow to pour in, bathing the room in pale, muted hues.
In front of the window, an old man sat hunched in a heavy chair, his back slightly curved, most of his hair gone. On his left were several bottles of alcohol with mismatched labels; on his right, a massive oxygen tank that kept him alive, and leaning against it—an old, rusty gun. A thin hose from the tank fed into a mask he held, giving life to every breath he took. But even those breaths weren’t enough to steady his trembling hands.
When the door slowly opened, the old man groaned deeply, struggling to rise from his chair. Every movement came with the crack of bones, as if every part of his body carried the weight of the past. When he stood, the fragmented neon light cast fractured shadows across his face. His features resembled a mask split into pieces—every line etched with regret and memories.
“Heard the rats started mutating…” he said in a hoarse, muffled voice. He inhaled deeply through his mask, his eyes narrowing slightly as the gas filled his lungs.
“But I didn’t know they could stand on two damn legs.”
Raven chuckled lightly. The weariness under his eyes made the smile somewhat bitter. He walked toward the old man, each step echoing on the metal floor.
“Whatever’s in that tank, it’s clearly messing with your head, Grandpa Wilhelm.”
Wilhelm let out a gravelly laugh, which quickly turned into a cough, betraying how tired his lungs really were. Then he tilted his head slightly, pointing to a steel chair in the corner of the room.
“Drag that thing over here, brat.” he said with a raspy voice.
“Let’s have a talk.”
Raven silently dragged the chair over and sat beside the old man. Wilhelm, with a slow motion, handed him a bottle.
“Underage, remember?” Raven said with a smirk.
This time Wilhelm offered him the mask, shifting the hose slightly toward Raven. A mischievous grin played across his face.
“That stuff makes me cough, old man.” Raven said with a grin of his own.
Wilhelm sank back into his chair, took another breath from his mask, and leaned into it. His eyes wandered out to the city beyond the glass, where the neon lights flickered.
“Is Rex dead?”
“No… We just went our separate ways.”
“Don’t feed me bullshit, kid! The only thing that could separate you from that boy is death. So tell me the truth.”
Raven’s eyes dimmed for a brief moment. The storm within him didn’t reach his face, but the silence was enough to give Wilhelm his answer.
“Damn shame…”
Wilhelm muttered sorrowfully.
“He was a bright one.”
He raised the bottle toward the empty space before him, as if toasting a ghost. Then he drank, in silence. He turned back to Raven, his voice now rougher.
“Then why aren’t you dead, Raven? How the hell did you make it without him?”
Raven’s gaze drifted into the distance. He swallowed.
“I… ran. I’m still running.”
The old man said nothing. Just another short cough. Another sip of alcohol. Another breath from the mask.
“I told you not to leave...” he said at last, his voice both tired and disappointed.
“I told you! You, Rex, and Diana… could’ve stayed. Run this bar. Lived a quiet life. But no, you had to push! If you’d just listened to your damn brother—”
Raven stood up. His face was taut, his shoulders stiff. The weight of those words bore down on him, and once again, he was ready to run.
But Wilhelm kept talking. Softly.
“You can stay here… for as long as you need.”
Raven suddenly turned. His face wore the mask of anger, but his eyes betrayed a buried guilt. He stepped toward Wilhelm.
“I know what you’re thinking, old man! But it wasn’t me! Not this time, alright?! Rex didn’t die because of me!” his voice cracked.
“You think I wanted this?! I fucking tried, okay?! I tried to pull him back, I tried to hold him together, but he broke, Wilhelm! He fucking snapped!”
Raven was shaking with rage.
“And I watched them put a goddamn bullet thro–!”
“Is Rex dead?”
The sudden voice drew both men’s attention to the doorway. Diana was kneeling in the threshold. Her shoulders were trembling. Her eyes stared blankly, her lips moved but no words came out. The neon light now reflected in her eyes. And in those eyes, the only thing visible was the slow disintegration of childhood memories.
Years ago…
On that day, Diana had also fallen to her knees just like now. In a dirty alley, on cold concrete, tears streaming down her cheeks. Just like today.
ION // SYSTEM FEEDBACK — [Session: 012 | Operator: Raven Karr]
Interface: ION_v4.6.1_β // Connection Stable [?]
[?] [MRS-09] Molecular Restoration System
- Operational Efficiency: 10.4% (↑ 2.2%)
- Primary Function:
→ Facilitates tissue regeneration via nano-scale biosynthetic repair protocols
→ Applies localized reconstruction on muscle, epidermal, and limited neural tissues
→ Simulates auto-fibrin production and coagulation to suppress superficial bleeding
→ Engages limited immunosuppression to minimize infection risk
- Critical Limitation:
→ In cases of major tissue disruption or internal organ trauma, system enters “Hemostatic Mode”
→ Prioritizes active hemorrhage control; regeneration rate significantly reduced
→ If operational load exceeds 60%, system may enter temporary shutdown
??[?] [PSA-02X] Psycho-Social Analysis Module (Experimental Prototype)
- Operational Efficiency: 2.1% (↑ 2.1%)
- Primary Function:
→ Analyzes micro-expressions, vocal tone, and biometric feedback for intent profiling
→ Constructs probabilistic behavioral models in real time
Algorithmic Output Sample:
→ “Subject Raven exhibits an 83% likelihood of rejecting the concept of ‘trust.’”
- Critical Limitation:
→ Accuracy significantly drops in group-dynamic scenarios or under emotional suppression
→ Data interpretation may exhibit bias in subjects with atypical neurology
[?] [AOSP-53] Acoustic Optimization and Signal Processing Protocol
- Operational Efficiency: 7.4% (↑ 2.1%)
- Primary Function:
→ Filters environmental noise to isolate target audio sources
→ Enhances selective hearing in noisy or cluttered environments
→ Applies directional acoustic focusing for distant audio capture
- Critical Limitation:
→ Prolonged use may cause tinnitus and auditory fatigue
→ Low efficiency results in increased echo and interference
→ Maximum effective range scales with efficiency
System Notice: Stated efficiency percentages apply only under conditions of full, synchronized nanite allocation to each individual module. Partial or multi-tasking deployments may result in fluctuating efficiency levels.
Raven // BODYCHECK
→ Gear:
? A few street style outfits (Kind of cool)
? Active Defense Surface [Model: AS929] (It's broken! ION, do something!)
→ Weapon:
? Left Hook of God? (Seriously? This ancient wrist-slam still here? Next to the Super Punchinator? No tech, no spark—just bruises and delusions of divine relevance.)
? Combat Knife [Model: M-12] (The only thing left of Rex.)
? Super Punchinator [Left] (Homemade death. It looks ridiculous. I don't want to comment on the name, but listen! It's throwing electricity and penetrating the Active Defense Surfaces!)
→ Additions:
?Raged Vibes (You can probably guess why, right?)
? Stolen e-Wallet – Balance: 734 [↓50] (50 credits for memories of home and Synthetic Lemonade? Gimme more!)
? VX-21 Commlink (It’s been silent for 26 days. Even spam bots gave up.)
? Stylish Black Bag (Used to be cool. Now it’s just “Raven’s personal hell-pocket.” Still cursed. Still smells weird. Stuff stolen from Drail is in here too—don’t ask how he convinced ION.)
? Sustenance & Regret – Contents: Bottled Rations, Bottles labeled “Water” (Technically drinkable. Emotionally scarring. One hissed and called him “mom.”)
? Monkey Chocolates (Hey monkey! You behind this radioactive piss-lemonade too?!)
? (5) VX-21 Commlink (Do something with these!)