Entering the sewers through a hatch on a side street.

  The transition from the sun-drenched, sordid streets of the upper district to the damp chill of the sewers was a shock to my system. The air down here was thick with the scent of stagnant water and old decay, but the group moved with the practiced efficiency of a veteran raid team.

  We were a silent machine. Up front, Joshua led the way, his holy magic radiating a soft, golden light that didn't just illuminate the tunnels, it seemed to purge them. Wherever the sludge grew too thick or the drains were clogged with years of filth, a pulse of his energy would dissolve the blockage, leaving the stone floor relatively clear. Behind him, Alan focused his ice magic, sending thin, shimmering sheets of frost across the surface of the brackish water, turning the treacherous, slippery floor into a solid, stable path for us to walk on.

  "Rat, ten o'clock," I whispered, my voice barely a breath.

  Eren didn't even look. Her fingers flicked, and a strand of shimmering binding magic lashed out like a whip, snagging the oversized rodent by its midsection before it could even squeak. I stepped forward, my obsidian-black arm moving in a blur. I didn't reach for the Glock; the report would have echoed through these tunnels like a cannon blast. Instead, I simply caught the thrashing creature in one composite hand. There was a sickening crunch as I squeezed, the hydraulic power of my grip making short work of the pest. I dropped the limp carcass into the flow without a second thought.

  We repeated the process methodically. Eren was in her element, her feline reflexes twitching as she anticipated every shadow, her binding magic catching rats mid-leap for me to silence with a quick, clinical crush of my fingers. Everyone was locked in, their backs to me as they focused on the path ahead.

  I took the rear, my vision shifting into a zoomed infrared overlay. The world turned into a gradient of blues and purples, with the warm heat signatures of my friends glowing like beacons in front of me. I scanned the darkness behind us, my sensors looking for any movement in the branching pipes.

  We reached a T-junction. The stone was older here, more ornate, likely running directly beneath the foundations of the Earl's mansion.

  "Clear right," I signaled, my eyes tracking a small heat bloom in the distance, just another rat.

  Suddenly, the world tilted.

  A hand, impossibly strong and wrapped in heavy leather, clamped over my mouth from the darkness of a recessed alcove. Before I could even trigger the servos in my arms to strike back, a wet, chemical stench filled my nostrils. Chlorine.

  I tried to let out a muffled shout, but my lungs felt like they were filling with lead. Simultaneously, a sharp, stinging sensation bloomed in my shoulder, a magic needle, glowing with a faint, sickly green light, sunk deep into the gap where the nanoweave of my suit met the obsidian plating of my neck.

  The effect was instantaneous. A wave of cold, magical paralysis surged through my limbs, severing the connection between my brain and the Valkyrie unit’s systems. My knees buckled, but the captor held me upright, pulling my back against a hard, armored chest.

  Through the haze of the drug, I watched Joshua, Alan, and Eren. They were still moving. Joshua’s light was fading as they rounded the corner of the junction, their silhouettes shrinking. They hadn't heard a thing. They didn't know the rear guard was gone.

  My vision began to swim, the infrared overlay flickering and dying. I was hauled backward, my boots dragging silently across the stone. I caught a glimpse of a masked face, dark, professional, and then a hidden door in the wall swung open.

  I wasn't being taken deeper into the sewers. I was being dragged up. I saw the start of a set of intricate, spiral stairs made of polished marble, illuminated by flickering torchlight. As the heavy stone door clicked shut, sealing out the sound of the sewer and my friends, the last thing I felt was the rough, possessive grip of my captor as he hauled my paralyzed, latex-clad body into a new domain.

  The marble stairs gave way to a plush, windowless chamber that reeked of expensive sandalwood and entitled cruelty. My body felt like a heavy, unresponsive mannequin as I was dragged across a thick crimson carpet. At 6'1" and packed with dense cybernetic alloys, I wasn't an easy load; my captors grunted with the effort, my obsidian-black boots thudding dully against the floorboards.

  I was dumped unceremoniously in the center of the room. My vision was still swimming, but I could make out two figures standing over me. One was the "Golden Brat," now stripped of his mirror-polished armor and wearing silk lounging robes. Beside him stood a shorter, soft-featured youth with eyes that held a disturbing, hollow spark of boredom.

  "Good find, Leo," the new one said, his voice a high-pitched, nasal drawl. "She’s… magnificent. Look at those arms. Is that clockwork?"

  "Better than clockwork, Gibby," the Golden Brat, Leo, snickered, kicking my side gently to roll me onto my back, his other leg still swollen. "Found her in the sewers with a bunch of F-rankers. No tags. No merchant papers. No anti-magic charms."

  Gibby Braeburn, the Earl’s son, leaned down, his face inches from mine. I could smell the sweet wine on his breath. "No affiliation? That means no one’s coming for her. The slave laws are quite specific about 'unclaimed' wanderers found within the estate’s drainage system. She’s a gift from the gods."

  I tried to snarl, but my jaw was locked in a leaden grimace.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Their actions were practiced, chillingly methodical. They knew exactly how to handle "prey." First, they stripped my belt, tossing my Glock and the Widow's Kiss onto a nearby velvet divan like they were mere curiosities. Then, Gibby produced a heavy leather collar. It was lined with copper runes that pulsed with a rhythmic, sickly orange glow.

  I felt the rough leather snap shut around my throat. It was tight, too tight, and the magical residue immediately began to itch against the sensitive skin of my neck.

  "Now, the restraints," Leo muttered.

  They hauled me into a kneeling position, my paralyzed limbs offering no resistance. They produced a heavy leather armbinder, a wrap that forced my obsidian-black forearms behind my back, pinning my elbows together so tightly my chest was thrust forward, the nanoweave of my suit straining against my breathing. Next came the heavy steel cuffs for my ankles, clicking into place and forcing my knees together.

  As they worked, their hands lingered. I felt the heat of their palms through the latex as they caressed my thighs, tracing the lines of my muscular construction.

  "This material," Gibby whispered, his fingers snagging on the suit. "It’s like bouncy skin. We couldn't get it off, but look here..." He traced a finger along the hidden seam at my crotch, the metallic click of a zipper echoing in the silent room. "It has its own… access points."

  I wanted to scream, to tear their throats out with my teeth, but I was a prisoner in a frozen shell, forced to endure their predatory gazes as they appraised me like a prize mare.

  Then, the world rushed back.

  It started with a pins-and-needles sensation that quickly sharpened into a dull, throbbing ache. The paralysis vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by the crushing reality of my bindings. My arms felt like they were being wrenched from their sockets in the armbinder, and the weight of my own breasts, pushed forward by the restraint, made my back strain. I wiggled my fingers, my obsidian hands were still functional, but pinned behind me, they were useless.

  Enough of this.

  I surged forward, putting every ounce of hydraulic power into my shoulders, intent on snapping the leather straps of the armbinder.

  BZZZZT!

  A violent, white-hot arc of electricity erupted from the collar. It felt like a lightning bolt was being driven directly into my spine. I let out a strangled cry, my body convulsing as I collapsed back onto my heels, smoke literally curling from the edges of the leather.

  Gibby and Leo burst into laughter, the sound echoing off the stone walls.

  "Oh, she’s a feisty one," Gibby chuckled, tapping the glowing runes on the collar. "Careful, darling. This little beauty detects the slightest hint of 'hostile intent' or escape. It doesn't just zap; it learns."

  "Look at her," Leo sneered, walking a slow circle around me. "The great obsidian goddess, bound in leather and kneeling. You look exactly where you belong, sweetheart. Helpless, pretty, and ours."

  I looked up at them through the platinum strands of my hair, my eyes burning with a cold, cybernetic rage. "You're dead," I rasped, my voice a jagged, broken purr. "When I get out of this, I'm going to paint this room with you."

  "When," Gibby echoed, a cruel smirk playing on his lips as he reached for the zipper. "But until then, we have all night to see what else this suit is hiding."

  My eyes widen as I try to inch away.

  The carpet fibers scraped against my cheek as I twisted, trying to worm my way toward the divan where they’d tossed my weapons. Every muscle burned with the effort, my hydraulics whined under the strain of fighting both the restraints and the collar’s lingering shock. The taste of copper flooded my mouth where I’d bitten my tongue during the convulsions.

  Leo’s polished boot came down between my shoulder blades, pinning me flat. “Look at her,” he cooed, dragging a finger along the seam of my suit where it stretched taut. “Like a beetle on its back.” His palm cracked down on my ass with a sharp smack, the impact reverberated through the artificial nerve clusters embedded there. A traitorous gasp escaped me, high and breathy; my hips jerked forward involuntarily, grinding against the carpet.

  “Oh-ho!” Gibby clapped his hands like a child at a puppet show. “She’s responsive!” His fingers dug into my hair, yanking my head back to expose my throat. The collar’s runes flared hotter at the motion, casting jagged orange shadows across their grinning faces. I snarled, but it morphed into another choked cry as Leo delivered a second slap, harder this time. The suit’s material amplified every sensation, translating the sting into a wave of electric heat that raced up my spine.

  “Stop, ” The word dissolved into a shudder. My own body was betraying me, synapses firing in ways I had never intended. Gibby’s breath hitched; I smelled the sour wine on it as he leaned in. “Fetch the black case,” he whispered. “The one with the gold clasps.”

  I twisted, trying to kick, only to feel the steel cuffs dig deeper into my ankles. My movements were reduced to a pathetic, worm-like crawl, my arms whining in protest from the awkward strain of the armbinder. Leo’s boot pressed down again, this time on the small of my back. “Look at her squirm,” he mused, tracing the zipper’s path with his toe. “Like she’s enjoying this.”

  “I don’t, ”

  The protest died as Gibby shoved something thick and rubbery between my teeth. The gag tasted of stale saliva and something faintly old, the residue of previous victims. My vision blurred as a silk blindfold cinched tight, but I immediately flicked my optics to infrared. The room flared into thermal gradients: Leo’s smirking face was a hot crimson blob, while Gibby’s hands appeared cooler as they fumbled with the case’s latches.

  “Mmmghhh!” The gag muffled my roar into something pitiful. I thrashed, feeling the collar’s runes pulse warningly against my skin.

  Gibby giggled. “Listen to that! Like a kitten’s mewl.” His fingers brushed my earlobe, mockingly gentle. “Shh, darling. We’re just getting started.”

  Leo’s palm cracked down again, smack!, and this time the impact resonated through my entire pelvic array. A traitorous moan vibrated against the gag. My hips jerked forward, grinding against the floor. Infrared showed Gibby’s pulse spike, his throat flushing hotter as he leaned in. “Oh-ho, she definitely likes it.”

  I didn’t! The suit’s neural feedback was misfiring, translating pain into, No. I twisted, muscles screaming as I tried to roll, but Leo’s knee pinned my thigh. “Wonder what other sounds we can make you produce,” he purred.

  A distant thud echoed through the stone walls. The two brats froze. Then another. Rhythmic. Heavy. Like something massive pounding against iron bars.