Chapter 31:

New Game, New Rules

(Outdated) Simular Beings


Bread felt heavy, awkward. The joints around his arms were stiff. As if his weight had just tripled. Every time he moved his neck, it would make this grinding noise. Every time he folded his fingers, he could feel a pressure pulling them back. They didn’t move as fast. Especially not as he had imagined.

The breaths he took, he first noticed deep within his chest. It heaved up and down with each gasp, clicking and clattering—vibrating like a rotary engine. And his eyes were so cumbersome. Each blink felt forced. Each eye felt disjointed from the other.

All his movements required over-exaggerated strain. Like he was told to hold up the earth to survive.

“God, you scared me there for a sec.”

He knew that voice. “Val…?” Where even was he? It was too dark for him to see.

“Are you okay, Bread? Can you move—”

The lights suddenly sparked back to life. Her face was illuminated under the newfound brightness.

“Val,” he repeated. His voice sounded a bit weird, but that wasn’t important. The figure in front of him… There was a distant familiarity in her face. He had seen her before. At the beach, obviously. But there was more. There was something missing… That face, that bandaged injury. That unmistakable flare in her eye… “Val… kyrie?”

Am I dead? Is this heaven?

No, it wasn’t. This was the real world—the other side of the coin. Common sense told him that already. His fingers moved crudely, jolting back and forth in rough increments. His legs sounded like scraping metal. Even his voice was out of tune and rough. Scratchy enough to be tree bark. No heaven should feel this uncomfortable. That wouldn’t align with his records.

“Oh? The lad knows who you are, Val.”

That was Coach. The one who gave him advice, the one suffering from achondroplasia, and the one who trained her to be the best…

“You know me?” she asked. “But why didn’t you figure that out sooner?”

“Probably the glasses, lass.”

“You’re kidding.”

They both laughed, heartily enjoying each others’ company.

Bread couldn’t help but smile. His mechanical eyes watered, tearful and weepy. He had found his beacon of light. Maybe even a place he could call home. For the first time, he was relieved—hopeful.

For the first time, he felt free.

He pushed off the floor. He wanted to get used to this body fast; he wanted to explore this new world as soon as possible. But then his knees gave way. He started to fall. Val quickly caught him by the shoulders.

“What’s wrong with him, Coach?”

“Let’s see here…” Coach walked over. He poked a few times at his chest with a long screwdriver. “Ouch!”

Sparks flew.

Bread tasted beef jerky. That was what his inner records had stated. It was sweet and a little spicy. There were hints of garlic and pepper.

Odd. There was nothing in his mouth. At least from what his new senses could perceive. And his records told him this was no normal body. It was most likely synthetic. Artificially created to host intelligent thought. But if his body was synthetic, then was he considered… artificial? Or could he still be… 

Actually, he didn’t really want to know.

Coach cautiously stepped in to take a closer look. He tapped Bread’s chest a few more times. “Ah, his core’s cracked.” He scratched his beard. “Probably from the electrical overload. He needs a bigger one.”

“Val…” Bread’s attention kept returning to the bandage around her eye. “You won’t quit… right?” The championship… Icarus… He wanted to see. Out of all the things in the world, he wanted to see her soar again. 

“What? Oh, boxing? Not yet,” she answered. “I’ll jump back soon”—she motioned towards her bandaged eye—“once I get it all fixed.” She gently guided him back to the bed. “But first, we need to get you a bigger core. Whatever that means.”

“Lass,” Coach cut in. “We need a military-grade. That’ll cost a mill.”

“We got the money.” She tapped on her forehead. “I already got the stuff from that Azan guy in here.”

“What about your eye? You got the money already. Why—”

“It’s okay, Coach. I can make more later.” She gestured towards Bread. “His life is more important.”

“Is it really worth it? He’s not even r—”

“Coach!”

Bread already knew what Coach was trying to say. That he wasn’t worth spending money on because he wasn’t… actually… Was he ruining her boxing career? Was he taking her chance away? He didn’t want that.

“You should fix your eye,” Bread whispered back.

“Not you too. I’m not fixing shi—I mean, a thing. I’m not fixing a thing.” She turned to Coach. “I need you to trust me like I trusted you in Simular. Help me. Please.”

Coach grunted, and for a second, it looked like he was about to leave, but then he moved to his computer. “I got a connection. Gambit Greg. It won’t be cheap, but he always has a few in stock. I’ll contact him to let him know you’re coming.”

“What else he got?”

“What else? Just a bunch of leftover cyber-up junk.”

“He got any faces?”

“Like what? For him?” Coach nodded in his direction. “He doesn’t need it. You barely have enough for the core.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He shook his head. “I know that look. I’ve seen it before.” He pulled out a long stick and waved it in front of her. “Don’t you think about stealing anything. Greg ain’t someone you can mess with.”

“I thought you wanted me to steal things.”

“Not this time.”

“Fine. I’ll just make some coin along the way. Happy?”

“No, I’m not happy. The fact that you even considered it… Be very careful, Val. I’m being serious.”

“Same here.” She packed a few essentials into a gym bag and slung it around her back. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

“Can I come?” Bread asked.

“No!” they both yelled.

“It’s dangerous,” Val answered. She turned to Coach. “Keep him safe. And don’t mention that word.”

“What? Oh, that word.” He grunted. “I won’t. Don’t worry ‘bout him. Just keep your word. Don’t even think about stealing from Greg.”

She left the building, still muttering whispers under her breath.

Coach pulled up a chair next to the bed. “Now, you’ll be safe here with me, lad.” He pulled out a fresh bag of beef jerky. “I may not look it, but I once fought a bear…”

Bread didn’t believe a thing Coach said that night.