The streetlights hum.
Not loud.
Just enough to get under the skin.
A low electrical buzz that settles behind the eyes and stays there.
The kind of sound that makes the night feel thinner than it should.
Kam walks in the middle of the road.
Not because he wants to.
The pavement feels wrong beneath him, uneven in a way he can’t trust.
His body is hollowed out. Scraped clean.
No heat. No strength.
Just the echo of both.
Every step is manual.
Lift left leg.
Plant.
Lift right leg.
Plant.
Taylor walks backward in front of him, squinting like he’s diagnosing a corrupted save file.
“Your frame rate’s tanking,” Taylor says.
“You’re stuttering.”
“My legs are decorative now,” Kam mutters.
Leo keeps pace beside him, tablet glow painting his face blue.
“Glycogen depletion,” Leo says.
“You need food in ten minutes or you crash.”
“I can’t eat,” Kam says.
“Too tired to chew.”
“Fix your walk,” Taylor says.
“You look like broken pathfinding. You’re gonna clip into a lamppost.”
Kam tries to take another step.
Nothing happens.
His body just… doesn’t execute the command.
He looks up.
At the far end of the street, three figures stand under the lights.
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Tracksuits.
Hoods.
The kind of posture that says we’ve been waiting.
The one in the middle steps forward.
Marcus.
Kam exhales.
“Oh. Brilliant.”
Leo freezes.
“Aggro range.”
Taylor turns, sees them, sighs.
“Raid encounter.”
“Scaling’s off,” Leo says.
“Three-on-one. Tank at five percent.”
“Relax,” Taylor says.
“Look at them.”
The two behind Marcus puff themselves up.
Trying very hard to be threats.
“Adds,” Taylor says.
Marcus closes the distance like he’s already won.
Something shifts in Kam’s chest.
Not heat.
Density.
A low hum.
Steady. Dangerous.
Marcus stops a few feet away.
“Thought I’d catch you again.”
“I’m tired,” Kam says.
“You weren’t tired in the gym,” Marcus says.
“Cracking floors.”
The boys behind him shuffle, hyping themselves up.
“Chloe says you’re unstable,” Marcus adds.
“A liability.”
“Chloe’s a community manager,” Taylor says.
“She doesn’t know the meta.”
Marcus snaps his head toward him.
“Shut up.”
Then back to Kam.
“Relax,” Marcus says.
“Just hands.”
He raises his fists.
“I’m checking if you’re actually hard.”
“I don’t want to fight,” Kam says.
“Funny way of saying you’re soft.”
Leo gives Kam a tiny shake of the head.
Don’t run.
Don’t flare.
Don’t fold.
Kam looks down at his feet.
They wouldn’t move anyway.
Taylor’s voice drops.
“Stat check.”
Kam nods once.
Marcus lunges.
A straight right to the ribs.
Fast.
Committed.
Confident.
Kam doesn’t block.
Doesn’t counter.
He compresses.
Everything folds inward for a single frame.
For that moment, he isn’t flesh.
The punch lands.
A sharp, sickening snap.
Marcus screams, jerking back, clutching his hand like it’s come loose.
The two boys recoil instantly.
Kam is still standing.
Exactly where he was.
He releases the compression.
The weight drops out of him.
Nausea rolls in.
“He’s got armor,” Marcus gasps.
“Jump him.”
They don’t move.
Kam looks at them.
They step back.
“Recoil damage,” Taylor mutters.
“You’re a freak,” Marcus spits.
“I drank my milk,” Kam says.
Marcus spits again.
“This isn’t over.”
They retreat into the dark.
Silence settles back over the street.
Kam exhales.
His knees unlock.
He stumbles forward, too slow to catch himself.
His heel hits the tarmac.
The road fractures.
A spiderweb of cracks spreads outward.
Kam freezes.
He lifts his foot.
A clean depression sits in the asphalt.
“…Oops.”
Leo crouches, torch beam sweeping the damage.
“You didn’t disengage fast enough,” Leo says.
“That’s infrastructure.”
“Texture glitch,” Taylor says.
“I need to sit,” Kam says.
“No sitting,” Taylor replies.
“We move.”
“We need to leave,” Leo says.
Kam leans on Taylor, legs barely cooperating.
“Who’s ‘someone’?” Kam asks.
Taylor looks down the empty street.
“Everyone.”
They walk.
Slowly.
Kam leaves no more footprints.
But the crack stays.
A permanent record.
He’s getting stronger.
And the world is getting more fragile.
