Chapter 94 Tenfold Keep

I leaned lazily against Bunnyblade’s frame, the cool metal humming faintly beneath me as if the bike itself breathed. His dashboard glowed in shifting colors, scrolling lists of names and half-redacted files such as profiles of the Ten’s capes, scraps pulled from the open net. It was better than nothing, but it didn’t hold a candle to the clean, terrifying efficiency of the SRC archives I once had access to.

Bunnyblade’s voice buzzed through his speaker, dry but confident. “If we had the right equipment, I could probably get you backdoor access into the SRC’s system. Just say the word.”

I raised a brow. “I almost forgot you were a hacker.”

“And an SRC agent,” he added. “A very good one at that.”

I smirked. “Yeah, you like reminding me of that part.”

The parking lot stretched wide and quiet around us, with only the faint rumble of traffic on the nearby road. Open enough that I’d spot anyone Mrs. Mind sent before they got too close. But not so open that I felt safe. This was still inside the town, and subtlety mattered. Whoever came wouldn’t arrive with fanfare or fireworks.

Onyx’s voice slithered into my head, amused. “This is amazing, though… You get to browse the internet on your bike!”

I almost rolled my eyes at her excitement. “It’s a glorified search engine with wheels.”

Silver’s softer tone countered her, thoughtful. “Bunny could probably do more with his powers, you know… but he’d need to experiment. What even are his ratings, anyway?”

Good question. I hadn’t really thought about it before. Technopathy, probably. Strong enough that he could shape circuits into words and siphon secrets from walls of firewalled steel. If I had to guess, his rating wasn’t low.

Bunnyblade’s dashboard flickered with lines of code, his voice a little more earnest this time. “I’ve been improving my software for a while now. Self-rewrites, optimizing functions, you name it. But what I’d really appreciate…” His engine purred like a sigh. “…is better hardware. More memory. Faster processing. Maybe even a proper cooling system. Otherwise, I’m working with scraps while everyone else is running on military-grade servers.”

I tapped his handlebars like I was patting a shoulder. “So, you’re telling me you want an upgrade.” Buddy, you were plenty ‘military’ enough, just short of an energy weapon.

His lights blinked, playful. “I’m saying if you want me at my best, don’t just polish the blade. Forge me sharper!”

I couldn’t help but grin at that.

I yawned into the back of my hand, the sound swallowed by the quiet hum of Bunnyblade’s idle engine. Dusk had painted the parking lot in a tired palette of orange and shadow. I’d been here only an hour, but it dragged like three. Mrs. Mind hadn’t given me an exact time, per se.

But I sure am hating the wait.

That left me with boredom. The kind that made my skull itch. I scrolled through wikis and trashy forums, chewing on half-baked cape theories before diving into a random NovelBin site. My eyes skimmed one about some Paladin chump dropped into a fantasy world full of weird cultures and even weirder gods. The guy was some virtuous do-gooder, swinging swords and saving maidens. Cool dude.

Onyx abruptly remarked. “Oh, look at that…”

Silver’s squeal followed, high and excited. “OMG! She’s just like you, Nick!”

I glanced up and froze.

She rode out of the fading sunlight like a painting of violence. Leather clung to her frame, tight enough to flaunt the curve of her waist and shape of her bosom. Her bike was no junkyard scrap either. Sleek, bristling with hidden teeth… special-tech, I’d bet my life. It almost mirrored Bunnyblade’s aura, but different.

My mind ticked through files, names, and whispers. The Ten’s roster was a revolving door, members dying, breaking, or disappearing. I couldn’t pin her.

Onyx whispered slyly. “What are the chances this is the one they sent to fetch you, Nick?”

Silver chimed, grinning in my skull. “Not zero.”

The woman stopped in front of me, tires whispering against asphalt. Her gloved hands reached up, and in one practiced move, she removed her helmet.

I blinked.

Where her head should’ve been, wasn’t. Just a raw metal-gray stump, neck cut clean, polished, and ending in nothing. No face, no skull, and no hair. Just headless. My mouth twitched into something between a wince and a grin.

She spoke, voice flat, mechanical, but carrying an echo of something human. “I am Dullahan. Member of the Nth Contract. I’ve come to pick you up.”

Onyx popped out beside me, doubled over in laughter, her voice bubbling out between gasps. “And she talks!”

I rubbed my temple, muttering, “Of course she does.”

Silver perched on the palisade of my bike, legs swinging like a child on a swing. She leaned in close, brushing my shoulder with her hand. “Quick, Nick, say something witty!” she urged, her grin wide, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Show her your charms!”

Onyx chimed in without missing a beat. “A pickup line!”

I stared at the headless rider in front of me, trying to think of something that wouldn’t sound completely idiotic. Nothing came. I hadn’t seen this woman in any of my research, and I had scoured every forum and whisper I could find on the Ten. Whoever she was, she wasn’t some small fry.

Silver tugged at my sleeve like she was coaching a nervous actor backstage. “Come on, Nick. She might lose interest if you don’t say something. You can do this. I believe in you.”

Onyx snickered darkly in the back of my head. “You know how it goes, Nick… when there’s a hole, there’s a goal.”

I sighed, dragging a hand down my face.

“Is there a problem?” asked the headless woman.

“None,” I said, straightening my jacket. “So… how does this go?”

She revved her bike, the sound sharp and violent. “We ride. Then I bring you to our base.”

I blinked. Base? That was new. I’d always figured the Ten were nomads too slippery to pin down. I didn’t think they’d risk something as permanent as a headquarters.

“Before we continue,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “I have questions.”

“Shoot.”

Dullahan’s voice was clear, firm, and almost mechanical. For someone without a head, she sure didn’t sound like a robot. The way her body turned slightly toward me and the tilt of her helmet in her hands was uncanny, like she could see me without eyes.

I was fascinated. How the hell does she even talk? But that wasn’t what had my curiosity buzzing.

“What do you do?” I asked. “How long have you been with the Ten?”

“I’m a Technopath of a unique variety,” she said evenly. “And I’ve been working with the Nth Contract for over two years now.” Her tone sharpened suddenly. “Your AI is rude. It just tried to hack me. I will only give you one warning. Stop whatever you are doing, or I will destroy it.”

I blinked, caught off guard. I lowered my voice, leaning close to Bunnyblade’s dashboard. “Hey, Bunny, cut it out.”

On the screen, words flickered angrily. “How dare she call me an AI!?”

I bit back a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

To me, Bunnyblade was as much a person as Silver or Onyx, loyal, temperamental, and capable of his own brand of sass. But maybe there was an advantage here. If Dullahan thought of him as some glorified software, she’d underestimate him.

I straightened up. “Apologies. I didn’t mean to offend—”

“I am aware,” Dullahan cut me off, voice cool but sharp. “You’re paranoid. You’re taking extreme measures for your safety. That’s why I am willing to let it pass.”

I raised my brows. She’d read me like an open book.

“However,” she continued, “if you do something again, if your machine intrudes on what’s mine, I will destroy it, and then I will destroy you. However…” A hint of admiration seeped into her tone. “I must admit, you have an interesting piece of tech. It would be a waste for it to end up becoming scrap, so tend to it well. Now, any more questions, newbie?”

Her words were harsh, icy with threat, but laced with professional interest.

“No more questions,” I said, trying to play it cool as I stepped forward. “But come on, we’ll be colleagues soon. So it won’t hurt to be a little nicer—”

Her bike revved suddenly, jerking backwards, wheels spitting gravel as she distanced herself a few steps from me.

“Not a step more.”

I raised my hands. “Apologies. Apologies.”

“Don’t test my patience, Monster.”

Monster. That one word cut through me like a knife, but it wasn’t the first time I’d been called that. Still, her wariness spoke volumes. She’d clearly been briefed about me, maybe even rated me higher than I expected.

“From newbie to monster, man, I sure got a quick promotion, huh?” I grabbed my helmet, slipped it on, and flicked my visor shut. “Let’s go.”

She slid her helmet back over the stump of her neck. Without another word, she revved her bike and pulled out first, her rear light glowing crimson. Together, we rode out of town into the open road.

My imaginary girlfriends projected their usual cocktail of emotions in the back of my head, excitement and curiosity this time. Their reactions always felt like little pulses of color across my mind.

“She’s a character,” Onyx said, folding her arms as she floated beside me.

“Don’t let your guard down, Nick,” Silver added. She brushed her hair back and fixed her eyes on the woman riding ahead of us. Like Onyx, she was floating.

“Copy that,” I muttered aloud, focusing on the open road. “But please, don’t block my line of sight, I’m driving.

Bunnyblade’s dashboard flickered with indignation. He was on a streak. “That woman’s insane!” his words rattled through the dashboard. “I just got curious and pinged her a hello! How dare she accuse me of hacking her? Slander! Slander, I say!”

“I believe you, buddy,” I said with a straight face.

Onyx gave me a sidelong glance. “I know that you don’t.”

“Yeah,” Silver chimed in, leaning her chin on my shoulder. “Sorry, Nick, but you can’t fool us.”

I exhaled slowly. They were right, of course.

The reason I could tell Bunnyblade was alive wasn’t just his voice or his sass. Instead, it was the faint empathic threads I felt from him. A heartbeat made of static. A low pulse of muted emotions. That was how I could always tell if Bunny was lying or not.

And Bunny definitely tried to hack Dullahan.

I couldn’t blame him. He shared my paranoia, after all. Out here, trust was a luxury we could rarely afford.

We’d been riding for what felt like forever, an entire day of wind tearing at my jacket and sun burning the horizon down to ashes. Dullahan never once slowed; she rode like a ghost, no breaks, and no hesitation. At incredible speeds, we cut across highways, then dirt roads, then roads that weren’t even roads. Twice, maybe three times, we hit ambushes: vehicles blocking the path, barrels of makeshift explosives, men with heavy rifles. Before I could even phase, she’d already dealt with them. Her bike’s mounted energy gun sang a violent song, and armored trucks simply detonated under its power.

I was jealous. I’d seen heavy weapons before, but watching her flick her wrist and erase obstacles like that stirred a little envy in me.

Dullahan slowed her bike to match my pace. “We’re almost here,” she said, her voice clipped and mechanical but still somehow feminine. “It’s just ahead!”

She turned sharply off the road and dove into the dirt between thick vegetation.

I followed close behind, Bunnyblade humming under me. Ahead was nothing but an empty spread of dirt. No roads. No fences. Just a barren clearing.

Without warning, Dullahan sped up and vanished.

“Some kind of visual interference ahead,” Bunnyblade reported, his voice suddenly analytical instead of snarky. “Possibly hologram technology for invisibility.”

“Of course it is,” I muttered, gripping the handlebars tighter and pushing forward.

When we pierced the invisible layer, the world changed. One blink, and suddenly there was a clearing with a tower in the middle, probably ten stories of steel and glass, modern and cold, like a corporate skyscraper misplaced in the wilderness. Its mirrored surface swallowed the forest around it.

Dullahan had already dismounted, removing her helm as she approached the glass doors that hissed open automatically.

“Aren’t you coming?” she called over her shoulder. “You can leave your bike behind. No one would steal it. If you want to bring it inside, you’ll have to set up your entire floor first.”

“Oh shit,” Onyx said, her eyes wide as she perched on Bunnyblade’s handlebars. “We’re going to get an entire floor? Meh… On second thoughts, that sounds lame. We used to own an entire building before this.”

“But they have like an invisibility barrier,” Silver whispered, pressing a hand to her chest as if the building’s scale impressed her.

Dullahan glanced back at me, impatient even without a face. “Welcome to the Tenfold Keep. Now hurry your ass here, because I won’t wait for you.”

I pulled off my helm, the air cold on my sweat-sticky hair. “Stay put, Bunny,” I murmured.

“Copy,” Bunnyblade replied, though I caught the faint ripple of curiosity in his voice.

I set the helmet on the seat and ran after Dullahan, my boots crunching over invisible ground as the glass doors swallowed us whole.