The bar

A man visits a bar and has to fight his way through

The neon lights outside flickered, casting a cold glow across the street. The sign, in off-island symbols, read "Go Away Bar," but it was just a front—a place where business was done under the cover of chaos. Lithius didn’t expect it to be anything other than a dark, noisy pit, and as he passed the doorman, the acrid smell of ozone hit him. The building trembled slightly beneath the constant thrum of bass-heavy rock music that blared from every corner, masking the whispers of clandestine deals and shady conversations.

Inside, the bartender leaned back, arms folded, eyes half-lidded in a perfect imitation of indifference. Two headless waitress droids, their mechanical limbs clicking on the floor, moved in sync behind the counter. A holographic bottle display flickered behind them, its images looping endlessly.

Lithius’s eyes flicked to the two men sitting at the bar, their dark trench coats a stark contrast against the flickering lights. Their eyes met his as he walked past, a silent challenge in their gaze. He kept his head low, avoiding trouble—he was here for business, not brawls.

No point in fighting these goons, he thought, slipping into a booth in the darkest corner. The women performing on stage were swaying to the beat, but their movements were too precise, too controlled. Lithius was well aware that they weren’t dancers—these were the same types of killers who had tried to eliminate him before. Their faces were hidden behind masks, but their body language screamed danger. His pulse quickened.

His fingers brushed the menu button on the table. The little pyramid device clicked and buzzed, lighting up in response. A cold voice emanated from the speaker, mechanical and emotionless: "Yes? Morning menu or Night menu, Sir or Madam?"

“Evening menu,” Lithius replied, his voice steady. “I’m here to see the Moderator.”

The pyramid’s light flickered as it hovered up to eye level, a red beam of infrared sweeping over him. It scanned him for a moment, then the voice changed, a subtle shift that signaled security protocols were active.

"Confirm identity."

"Lithius One-Ninety," he muttered. "Business called."

The pyramid paused, then responded. "Identity confirmed. Please wait."

Before he could respond, the table suddenly shuddered. A heavy, drunken weight slammed into the seat beside him, nearly toppling it. A woman—disheveled, unsteady—sprawled across the table, a fist already flying toward his face.

Instinctively, Lithius leaned back, letting the punch land with a dull thud against his shoulder. He rolled with the force, hitting the booth’s edge and quickly shifting into a combat stance. His hands shot forward, and the Tension Bayonet system hummed to life, the claws extending out with a snap.

The woman grinned wickedly as her body contorted unnaturally, her posture shifting in a way that wasn’t human. Assassin. Lithius had seen enough of these types before.

With a flick of his wrist, the claws retracted, redirecting power to his legs. He slammed through the bathroom door, adrenaline fueling his every move. The crash was deafening as he barreled through, smashing into the urinal behind it. A small window above caught his eye, and before his mind could process, he dove through it, shattering the flimsy plastic.

His large frame squeezed through the gap, the sting of broken skin barely registering as he landed with a grunt in the alley below. The stench of rotting food and decay filled his nostrils as he hit the ground, his heavy boots sinking into the soggy mess of discarded boxes.

A sharp howl echoed from the window above. They were coming for him.

The sound of rotor blades grew louder. The familiar whup-whup-whup of a police drone hovered nearby, its presence confirmed by the sudden chatter of an automatic slug thrower. Lithius’s combat mod helpfully identified the weapon as a Kelchworth Eighty, standard issue for law enforcement.

"Damn it," Lithius muttered under his breath. His escape route was closing. The harbor had always been his fallback, but with enforcement units on his tail, that was no longer an option. Riot Marines would be called in if things escalated. They wouldn't stop until the whole area was leveled.

His only choice was to go back.

He spun on his heel, taking in a deep breath as his mind raced through options. Back into the bar. The fix was in, and that meant everyone would want the bar intact. The one place they wouldn’t destroy.

With no hesitation, Lithius leaped back toward the window he’d just escaped through, his reinforced legs launching him effortlessly up three meters. He smashed through the broken frame once more, crashing back into the bar with the force of a freight train. The assassin he’d left behind was still reeling from the impact of his initial assault, and she didn’t have time to react before he landed on her, sending her flying.

“Tough cackle, chica,” he muttered, the claws extending once more, slicing deep into her torso as she spun away.

The remaining droids—those hyper-efficient killers dressed as dancers—were already closing in. Their movements were sharp, coordinated. Lithius could see them splitting off, developing multiple attack vectors.

His hand shot to the rifle slung across his back. He pulled it free, quickly adjusting the stock and selecting auto-fire mode. The targeting reticle flashed to life in his vision, locking onto his first target. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled the trigger. The high-grain sabot penetrators tore through the lead droid’s chest, and the impact sent her spiraling backward, exploding through the body of another droid behind her.

Lithius’s pulse surged. He didn’t have time to savor the kill. More were coming.

The barrel of his rifle swept left, targeting the two droids leaping at him. A quick squeeze of the trigger and they fell, one after the other. His body was already in motion, sliding under the barrage of fire from another set of droids coming at him from above.

Time slowed. His combat mod flooded his system with stims, heightening his senses, sharpening his reflexes to a razor’s edge. The reticle snapped into place on his next target, a droid hovering overhead. A flash of movement, and the penetrators tore through her, followed by the second droid, both falling like ragdolls.

The lights in the bar suddenly flickered, then went out, plunging the room into darkness. Lithius didn’t hesitate. His hand fumbled for the infrared patch in his pocket and slapped it over his eye. Instantly, the world lit up in shades of deep red.

He moved through the blackened space with calculated precision, heading toward the basement where he knew the Moderator would be. The door opened as if on cue, and he slipped through, rifle raised, ready for whatever lay below.

A feminine voice echoed from the shadows, smooth and lilting. "Come in, Lithius. Why all the commotion?"