text: "Deal," you say.
  
  
  "Good, good," Cain nods, extending a hand.
  
  
  You grab his hand, and thankfully Cain doesn't attempt to squeeze, which would almost certainly result in your fragile bones shattering. You shake vigorously, and Cain attempts a smile. The corners of his mouth twist unnaturally high, revealing rows of serrated teeth, curved fangs, massive molars and many other weird, odd teeth, protruding from bloody, rotten gums. You smile in response, not willing to offend him.
  
  
  "The beast would've taken half of what he asked for," Meliodas says.
  
  
  "Why didn't you tell me that before?" you say angrily.
  
  
  "I presumed you knew," Meliodas replies.
  
  
  "Are you OK?" Cain says. "Tell you what?"
  
  
  "Uh, nothing. Sorry," you say.
  
  
  "OK. Good deal," Cain says, his face contorted in what you assume is his version of a raising of the eyebrow. "Alright, best get prepared for your operation before Magos Cern gets back."
  
  
  "Yeah, I should," you say.
  
  
  You walk over to your operating table and quickly get undressed, before lying down. After another minute or two, Magos Cern appears, pushing a tray in front of her. One of her metallic tendrils grabs a syringe filled with a pale, translucent liquid.
  
  
  "This might hurt a little. It will more likely hurt a lot more," she says.
  
  
  You let out a pained yelp as she jams the syringe into your neck. She begins pushing down on the plunger as what you hope is anesthetic is pumped into you. Warm hands embrace you, pulling you into the oblivion of unconsciousness.
  > You resist
  You shake your head, struggling to avoid falling into unconsciousness. You take in a deep breath, flinging the warm hands away from your mind. Magos Cern continues pressing down on the plunger, shooting the remaining fluid into your blood. Your mind is gripped by a scream for sleep. Perhaps you should just embrace it.
  > You resist
  Magos Cern notices your struggle with indifference, refilling her syringe with anesthetic and injecting it into you again, although you can't feel the needle pierce your skin. Your eyes flutter before they roll in the back of your head. As you lose the fight to resist the void of oblivion, in the back of your mind you hear voices.
  
  
  "Magos Cern, I polished the AI module."
  
  
  "Good, Adept. You have gained one step forward in receiving your cybernetic upgrades."
  
  
  "How long, master? My flesh is weak, my body frail, I crave the strength of steel."
  
  
  "Soon, Adept, soon. Do not bother me in a time like this! We are on the brink of discovery! We have a mind older than the Emperor himself. Fifteen thousand years old! Can you imagine the knowledge it holds? Prepare Primus for start-up. I believe now is the time. I must just play with Kyros' pet's flesh, and then we will work."
  
  
  "Yes, Magos. Understood, Magos."
  
  
  Then, you lose all resistance and sleep takes you, leaving you powerless in its dark embrace.
  
  
  You awake an unknown time later, lying on the metal operating table. Magos Cern stands over you, washing her implements in a basin of water. She looks at you, her cold, red eyes peering into your soul.
  
  
  "Ah, you're awake. Good," she says.
  
  
  "What did you put into me?" you ask.
  
  
  "The biology of what I did is beyond you, flesh bag."
  
  
  "Can you dumb it down for me?" you ask.
  
  
  "Could one reduce concertos to the mumbled grunts of mutants?" Magos Cern asks indignantly.
  
  
  "Please?"
  
  
  "Fine. I increased the size of your heart by 40% and lungs  by 12%, and added several veins and arteries leading directly to the brain from the heart. These actions increase the blood flow to your brain, and should hence increase psychic abilities. I added multiple microchips that breed monocytes, other white blood cells, platelets and other helpful things for your body. That was the bulk of my work. Other than that, it was just a medical check-up."
  
  
  "OK," you say.
  
  
  "I have a lot of important work to do, now. You should've had enough time to recover."
  
  
  Two of your massive space marine guards arrive, a roaring face on their thick helmets.
  
  
  "Here you are," Magos Cern says. "Guards, make sure to walk slow. If at any point the patient starts puking blood, let him sit down for ten, maybe fifteen minutes."
  
  
  "Shouldn't you keep him hearing for observation, then?" one of the guards ask.
  
  
  "I have far too much work to do," Magos Cern says. "Don't disturb me. If anything goes wrong, go to Genetor Corivan. He is very experienced with medical matters."
  
  
  "Yes, sir," the space marine says.
  
  
  Magos Cern quickly heads off, walking off to a row of elevators. The space marines stare at you, and you climb out of bed with a groan.
  
  
  "Ah, my head," you say.
  
  
  "You should have headaches for the next 48 hours," Magos Cern shouts, right before she disappears into an elevator. 
  
  
  You stand, feeling a rush of blood hit your head. You walk after the space marines, along halls and up and down elevators, until you find yourself in the arena. Castus and Olive are there, mid-battle with each other.
  
  
  "Oh look, it's tweedle-dum and tweedle-fucking idiot," Meliodas says. "Not even a laugh? Oh wait, you didn't grow up with nursery rhymes, you're from a Feral world. My bad."
  
  
  Castus swings his sword at her, while Olive swings her rifle-axe up at his head. He rolls out of the way, kicking Olive's foot away and sending her to her knee, before booting her in the head. She collapses down, before rolling out of the way to avoid a downward stab by Castus. She grabs Castus' sword handle and punches him. Castus falls backwards, before taking up a fighting stance. Olive begins circling him, her gun-axe at the ready. She spots you, smiling.
  
  
  "Karth's here," she says.
  
  
  "Bullshit," Castus says, readying his sword.
  
  
  "Karth, tell him you're here," Olive says.
  
  
  "Yeah, I'm here," you say. 
  
  
  Castus turns to look at you, but Olive charges, swinging her gun-axe. She knocks the feet away from Castus, dropping his knee down on Castus stomach. Castus grunts before Olive grabs her gun-axe and holds it to Castus throat.
  
  
  "Dead," she says.
  
  
  "No fair, we were supposed to stop when Karth got here," Castus says.
  
  
  "You're still dead," Olive smiles, standing up.
  
  
  Castus grabs Olive's wrist, pulling her forward so his sword pokes into her stomach.
  
  
  "Dead," he smiles.
  
  
  "Seriously?" Olive says, rolling her eyes. "Fine, I'm dead. Are we finished yet? The kid needs training."
  
  
  "Fine," Castus shrugs. "Let's start it."
  
  
  Castus draws a dagger from his belt, staring at it. The blade is a bright silver, with an odd pattern etched into it. It's handle is a bright, light blue, with a short, silver horn coming from the end of the handle.
  
  
  "Now, this is an absolute beauty. I really don't use it enough, so it's yours. Xenos-origin, so even owning it is heresy. The blade is razor sharp, it could cut through flesh and bone easier than it could through air. Here."
  
  
  Castus turns, tossing the dagger straight at your head.