It was a little past three in the morning when he reached ho. He still felt pumped and fresh, so he got to work on the gun right away. The damn itch in his head had gone from nudging him to full-blown punching him to get it done.
He built the alternative parts for the blaster and started attaching them. He added the charged gas canister to the feed port. Then he installed the fire-control unit, linking it to the rails and chamber. Finally, he fit the cooling shroud over the barrel and made final calibrations to adjust the output of the blaster.
By now, he knew this was a gun from the Star Wars universe. But he didn't know how powerful it was compared to conventional bullets. This plasma gun could shoot a hundred shots, and the range was over a hundred ters. But those were just words on a sheet. He had to test it first to know.
"Ain't nobody seeing out there."
He grabbed the blaster pistol and geeked over it a little. It felt so surreal in the hand, a gun from Star Wars. Sure, he didn't know if it worked or if it was just a prop. But it felt so real.
He checked everything one last ti. Sothing told him he'd succeeded as that itch in the head had vanished abruptly.
So he headed to the door to shoot so stuff in the open.
Grrrrr~
But then he heard so noise. Engines, a few of them, and the noise got closer and closer. He looked at the clock, and it was five in the morning. It was still dark outside, and it made no sense for anyone to be there.
Quickly, he shuffled through dead Cypher's mories to find a reason. To see if there were any unknown friends. But nothing ca up.
He ran around the house and turned off all the lights inside. After that, he pocketed the one extra reload cartridge and peered out of the window to see what was going on. The roar of the engines grew stronger until he finally saw that three cars were headed towards his house.
Finally, when they ca to a halt right outside, he noticed the car models. An Archer Quartz and two Quadra Type-66. They were all modified for the Badlands, and now that he'd seen them, he also found the relevant mory about them.
It's the Wraiths! Damn you, dead fuck!
It turned out, the dead Cypher got his dose of glitter from none other than the Wraiths. In a way, the dead Cypher was already half a wraith since he was also an exiled, outcast Nomad, and that was what Raffen Shiv were. Wraiths were a group of Raffen Shiv nomads.
And they weren't the good sort of gang. They attack their prey during the night and raid or murder their victims. They take contracts and then keep the loot they were supposed to transport, or keep the passengers either for ransom or for their own 'enjoynt'. They were similar to Scavengers, and kidnapped people and killed them for their body parts and chro. Raffen Shive were so hated that Nomad clans sent literal war parties to eliminate them wherever they were encountered or found.
"And the fucker traded with them." Cypher cursed under his breath. He wasn't scared of dying, but dying so pointlessly was disappointing. Especially now that he had sothing to look forward to.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
"Open up! I know you're holed up in there; your damn bike gave you away. We already stretched your tab long enough. You cough up the eddies today, or you ride with us in the trunk. No chro on you, but your squishy bits will fetch a price."
A debt of eight thousand eddies was on dead Cypher's head. Now, the alive Cypher had to pay for it. But sadly, he'd already spent most of it on building that blaster…
Wait a second.
He looked at the blaster in his hand and then rembered how good his aim was. He'd already counted the Wraiths outside, just four of them. And since killing wraiths was as good a deed as one could commit, there were no moral issues.
Still, he didn't know if the blaster would work. But the only other option was surrendering. The house didn't have a secondary exit either. He was trapped there.
"Fuck off! I got no money!" He shouted.
There was silence. The four Wraiths must've been in disbelief. But the next second, they didn't even shout. They just shot at the door and broke its lock. Then they manually slid it open and entered the house with torches on.
I can do this. Ti to channel the Han Solo in .
Cypher was hiding behind the coffee table that he'd flipped for cover. He wanted to use the elent of surprise and strike them first; otherwise, they'd gang up on him.
Funny… Killed my first guy three days ago. Now about to kill four.
He gripped the DL-18 Blaster tightly in one hand, inhaled a deep breath, and stood up out of the cover, aiming. In a split second, he shot the fire round. It was bright, blue, and the sound felt so iconic that he had goosebumps all over.
The room had lit up in a bright spark for a split second. His blaster hadn't made that much of a sound, so they didn't even know that they were being shot at. However, a thud had followed right after.
"Mike?"
Cypher saw the damage when one of the Wraiths shone the torchlight on the body. His blaster round had hit the man square in the face. A hole was there now, molten, dark, and deep, but it didn't pass through entirely.
It works!
He didn't give them ti to respond after that and shot five more rounds. He got another one in the end, but the other two jumped away and ran into his bedroom. From there, Cypher was on the offensive.
He had a total advantage as his gun could shoot a hundred rounds.
Bang!
Silence was broken by the two remaining Wraiths shooting their guns as well. But theirs were loud and annoying. And they needed to reload.
Cypher just waited outside the entrance to his bedroom. Occasionally, he blindly shot a round inside to keep them on the edge so they'd keep shooting back.
"What the fuck are you doing, Cypher? You know more will co if you kill us!"
"What do you expect to do?" Cypher shouted back. "Just sit down and spread my legs? Fuck off, I don't got money and I won't pay a damn soul. You're both dying here, and after that, I'll drop whoever else cos looking."
Bang! Bang!
Finally, the Wraiths stopped shooting.
Cypher peered inside a little and aid. He really was too fucking good at it. Accurately, he shot at the Wraith hiding behind the cupboard. His first shot hit the foot, dropping the Wraith in the open. The second hit the head.
Bang!
By then, the last Wraith was back to shooting blindly.
"Let us go, Cypher. We can still end thi—"
"Man, shut the fuck up. You were just talking about selling my damn organs. And what do you an by us? It's just you left." Cypher blindly shot inside the room, hoping to hit sothing.
Uh… Not this again! Why? Why's the itch back!?
Cypher felt his focus falter. That sa itch that he'd escaped by making the gun had returned. But only this ti, instead of a gun, he saw flashes of a tube-like thing.
"An EpiPen? Why would I make that?"
Bang! Bang!
"You're crazy!" the Wraith from inside shouted.
Cypher shook his head and focused on the target. He noticed the pause in shooting and tried to look inside—
Shit!
It was a trap. He rushed to hide again, but he was a bit too slow.
Bang!
"Fuck! I won't shoot you in the head, you hear ?!" Cypher roared as pain registered. It was dark, so he couldn't see, but the tingling, painful sensation was evident on his left arm.
After that, he went berserk in anger, the brain itch, and simple fatigue. He hadn't slept in two days, and he had just gotten shot.
"Fuck you!"
He started to shoot blindly inside the room nonstop. He didn't need to reload, and since he knew where the guy was hiding, he sprayed endless rounds.
The pain was too much. His brain wasn't working anymore. He didn't even bother to check inside and kept shooting. The blaster rounds were bright; they shimred the entire house continuously like disco lights.
Click! Click!
Finally, he was out of ammo.
Thud!
Right there, he fell, his back against the wall outside his bedroom door, in the pool of his own blood. Still, with half his face, he peeked inside. There, at the corner, a lot of embers were burning, and that light was enough to show the dead body riddled with countless charred holes.
At last, he relaxed, but he knew this wasn't right. There was no light, and he could still feel his vision darkening. He reckoned he'd lost too much blood, so he did the next best thing and called Judy.
The call rang for a long ti before her sleepy face ca into view.
"Cypher, do you know what ti—"
"Aghk… Judy… uh… Quick, ain't got long. Got shot… Wraiths, at ho, they're dead."
"Fuck! I'm comin'!"
The call got cut, and Cypher relaxed flat right there. He was still cursing under his breath, however. He blad that brain itch for breaking his focus.
"Why's it fucking back? Why would I make an Epi… Uh, no?"
With flickering thoughts, he took a better look at this new thing, and before long, he had a na.
"Uh… A what? Sonic Screwdriver?"
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