Fungal Halo

The Hive's slow spread through the city's most neglected parts was, for a long time, not even noticed. Then, when it was first noticed, it was confused for something much lesser. A new religious movement, perhaps? It seemed to be growing mostly from the city's vulnerable.

In the end, who knows why you chose to do it? Once you choose to become a drone, trifling things like "reasons" cease to carry significance, and all that is left is the act itself. Discard whatever plans you had before you chose this; your future is no longer yours to chart.

The screaming of my alarm wakes me up as it does every morning. I feel like hell. Like every part of me was taken apart and reassembled. That's not unusual, but today I sure don't feel like I can tolerate going in to work, getting berated, feeling useless, doing nothing of value.

I squeeze the trigger, and the thing that was once my best friend drops dead.

I take a moment to kneel beside it. These helmets aren't made to be removed, so I improvise a hole in the front with the butt of my gun.

Yeah. That's her face. All plugged in.

The first time you summon a demon, you're so nervous that your shaky hands nearly drop the ritual dagger.

You have to make it work, though. This world was never made for you, and so you need to carve a place for yourself in it one way or another.

The thing about being in a hacker collective is that a lot of us get really competitive, but we still cooperate to elevate the whole group, you know?

It's in the spirit of both sides of that dichotomy that I've decided to try to crack one of those DroneCorp units open.