"System, how much energy do I have left?" Stefano asked, his voice raspy.
[Twenty percent. Too low for an extended physical confrontation.] the cold voice echoed inside his head.
Stefano splashed water on his face in the sink of his cramped new apartment. It was a tiny unit on the outskirts of the city, rented under a fake identity Damian had scrubbed for him.
But that sense of security was short-lived. His heart beat erratically, a clear sign that the chip in his brain was working overtime to stabilize his metabolism after the incident on the streets earlier that night.
"Is there any activity nearby?" Stefano stared into the mirror, watching his eyes shift back to a golden hazel without him even intending it.
[Eight heat signatures detected in the hallway. Four more are on the roof.
