Chapter 1: The Bus Stop Revelation
The rain wasn’t falling so much as condensing directly from the grimy air, a fine, oily mist that coated everything. Thomas Hound shifted his weight, the damp leather of his uniform creaking. Under the sagging roof of the bus stop, the neon light from the “Breeding Clinic” sign across the street flickered, painting his partner Elizabeth’s profile in pulses of sickly pink.
His hand rested on the small of her back, a casual, possessive gesture that was as much habit as it was performance. It said, This is mine, and my authority is yours. A Sex Enforcement patrol car slid by, its blue and crimson lights reflecting in the wet pavement.
“They’re late,” Elizabeth said, not looking at him. She was scanning the nearly empty street, her eyes sharp.
“Bus from the convalescence zone is always late. Gridlock near the incubation hubs,” Thomas replied, his voice a low rumble. He could feel the warmth of her through the fabric of her own uniform. Their partnership was… efficient. It worked. He pushed down the familiar, complicated twist in his gut that thought of his kids always brought these days.
Headlights cut through the gloom, and a long, battered municipal bus exhaled a hydraulic sigh as it pulled to the curb. The doors slapped open. A few figures disembarked, silhouettes against the interior glow. Then, two more.
Mark emerged first, duffel bag slung over a shoulder, his short brown hair plastered to his forehead by the mist. He looked older than eighteen, his eyes taking in the bus stop, the ads, Elizabeth, with a wary stillness. Thomas felt a surge of pride, quickly followed by a pang. The boy had his mother’s eyes.Then came Annie.
Thomas froze she had a Single Back on her back and it was clearly some kind of Container for something long and metallic, but the stump of her right arm hung exposed. The sleeve of her oversized hoodie was pinned shut with a safety pin, fluttering in the damp wind like a surrender flag.
Elizabeth made a startled sound, a soft gasp that Thomas felt more than heard. He might’ve stared, too, if he hadn’t already been practicing not to react—to everything, always, for years. But the sight was raw. The scar tissue. The way her fingers curled into a loose fist, as if her arm were still there.
“Jesus,” Elizabeth whispered.
Annie didn’t look at them. She kept walking, boots splashing in a puddle, then stopped short in front of Thomas. she sighs "Hey dad.....wondering about my arm....there was a fire and I was Caught under a Burning Beam....had to cut it off to get free. The beam was crushing down, and the bottle was already broken. It was over quick......" she said with a slightly Darker Tone that she didn't have before Thomas and Anna left all those years ago "Also you forgotten to give us your new Phone Numbers in case of Emernacies before you left our old city dad." there was no anger just a tired ness "Look me and Mark been up for 72 hours just to
get on this damn bus." Annie adjusted the strap of her duffel bag, her stump swaying slightly with the movement. She didn’t meet his eyes, just stared at the ground, where her shadow pooled dark and uneven against the concrete.
Mark shuffled forward, standing slightly behind his sister, his jaw tight. He didn’t touch her. Didn’t reach out. But his gaze flicked between Thomas and Elizabeth, then back to Annie’s exposed limb, lingering only a second before he forced himself to look away. His grip on the bag tightened.
Elizabeth stepped forward, her polished boots clicking on the pavement. She tilted her head, studying Annie with a kind of clinical fascination.
“You cut it off yourself?” Elizabeth’s voice was soft, almost reverent, like she was asking about a particularly brutal piece of art. “With a broken bottle?”
Annie finally met her gaze, her freckled face unreadable. “Yeah. Had to. Couldn’t feel my legs. Beam came down too fast.” She flexed her remaining hand absentmindedly, the mechanical one still strapped to her back. “Guess I’m not as lucky as some people.”
Thomas cleared his throat, the sound sharp in the damp air. He didn’t know where to look—at Annie’s stump, at Elizabeth’s rapt expression, at Mark’s stiff posture. he began to realise how he failed them as a father without their Contact info in 3 years "Annie…" His voice cracked slightly before he gathered himself. "We didn’t know about the fire. We—"
"Didn't you?" Annie cut in, her voice sharp but hollow, like a blade with no edge. "Or just didn’t care to ask?" She shifted her weight, the safety pin in her sleeve glinting in the neon light. "Doesn’t matter now, does it?"
Elizabeth exhaled through her nose, a sound that was half amusement, half something else—something hungry. She stepped closer, her uniform sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing the faint scars along her inner forearms, old and deliberate.
then a Phone Call "Thomas you need to come home one of the girl's former lovers followed her and he has a knife and a Gun.....please hurry some of the Males here are holding him off....." Anna Said her voice Shaking to Thomas's Surpise Annie took off her bag slams it down and it open revealing her mechanical arm she turned to mark "looks like Someone is being a bad Boy....dad....would it be consider murder if I help Mom by TEARING out his Throat?" her voice was Low and mencing the Kind of tone that some one has when they Are Sick and Tired of Someone Fucking their Day up Mark backed up knowing that Tone "Agressive....your out again...." "Some one is Treating mom....Of Corse I come out bro." Annie Snarled as she slam her Stump into the Arm and grunted alittle as it Connected then she pulls it out revealing the Claws "Shall we save mom?" she said as she began to walk away only to stop "Um...where is our new house?" Annie asked in the Tone she use to have Clearly the More Innocent side of her had taken Command
now after the Adrenaline was kicking in
Thomas hesitated, his mind still caught between the emergency call from Anna and the sight of Annie's transformed demeanor. He notice Mark Sigh "Dad I should Explain Annie Has a Spit personalty now from the moment she was forced to cut her own arm off....when ever the 'Inoccent Annie' is in Command that is the Pre Accident persona she dont' like to Wear the arm....the other who we just called 'Agressive' she is the one who takes Charge and repesents the her she was forced to become to protect me.....She's the one who would be Violent if it means protecting me mom or you and you can tell if it's her as her voice is more menacing and she prefers to wear the Arm." Mark said having a tone of concern and honesty in his voice "So....Um...yeah Agression was asking because she is Known for using the Claws to quite literally...tear someon's Throat or Dick off...as seen when Someone Try to ....um could I say the R word here?" Mark's voice hitched as he backpedaled slightly, clearly unsure whether he should be elaborating further on Annie's violent tendencies.
Thomas nods "Yes you can Say Rape here...." Mark Sighs "When someone had tryed to Rape me...she well she Snuck up on him and riped his throat out in front of his friends... she was 16...and since then she has been the one who comes out when ever someone threatens me or Mom... or family..." Mark finishes his sentence with a shiver.
Thomas's face went pale, his mind racing through the last few seconds. He had always known Annie was strong. But *this*?
Elizabeth, meanwhile, had taken a half-step back, her fascinated expression sharpening into something else. Not fear. *Interest*. Her lips parted slightly.
"Jesus," she exhaled, not in disgust, but in something like admiration. "She just *tears out throats*?"
Annie’s head snapped toward Elizabeth, her mechanical hand twitching at her side.
Then, like a switch flipped, her shoulders relaxed, her jaw unclenched, and the tension in her posture melted into something softer. eyes blinked " Mark did she Come out again...because I'm wearing the arm...." "Yes.... Mom is in danger and I just had to Explain to Dad that she can be agressive and violent when protecting family. It's not her fault, it's the trauma." His voice wavered slightly, but he stood his ground. "Annie's still the same person. She's just... more."
Elizabeth studied Annie for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Fair enough."
Thomas exhaled sharply. "Alright, enough." He turned toward the street, waving a hand. "Car’s coming. Let’s move." A sleek black cruiser pulled up beside them, its Sex Enforcement markings glowing faintly in the neon haze.
Mark hesitated, then reached out and gently touched Annie’s uninjured arm. "We should go.
Now." Thomas’s voice cut through the heavy silence, sharp and commanding. The rain had eased to a fine mist, clinging to their skin like a second layer.
Mark nodded, his fingers still resting lightly on Annie’s arm. He could feel the tension in her muscles, coiled tight beneath the fabric of her hoodie. But her shoulders had relaxed, her breathing steady. For now, the aggressive persona was gone, leaving only Annie—the twin he’d shared a womb with, the one who had always been his mirror, even before the accident.
Annie turned her head slightly, her gaze meeting Mark’s.
In that moment, the light caught the freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks, familiar and comforting despite everything. The corner of her mouth quirked up, just a little. "Yeah," she said softly. "Let’s go."
Thomas held the back door of the cruiser open, gesturing them in with a sweep of his hand. The interior smelled like leather, antiseptic wipes, and something metallic—like sweat and the faintest trace of gun oil. Elizabeth slid in beside Annie without hesitation, her body language open, almost eager.
Mark helped Annie into the back seat first, careful not to brush against her stump.
He followed, the door closing behind him with a quiet *thunk*. The cruiser’s engine purred to life, headlights cutting through the rain-slicked streets as they pulled away from the bus stop.
Thomas settled into the passenger seat, his partner Elizabeth beside him. From the back, Mark could see the muscles in his father’s shoulders tense as he took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before adjusting the rearview mirror. The car was silent except for the rhythmic *swish* of the windshield wipers and the occasional static crackle from the radio.
Annie sat rigid beside Mark, her mechanical arm still attach to her limb "Dad you're not scared of me are you?" she asked Thomas "No but i feel Like I failed as a Father....." "You were getting use to this lifestyle you have and you have to admit your partner is pretty....." Annie said softly, her fingers tracing the edge of the armrest.
Thomas didn't answer right away. He kept his eyes on the road ahead, the flickering streetlights casting long shadows across his face. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words and the weight of years of absence.
After a long moment, Thomas finally spoke, his voice low and rough. "I was scared of what I might find when I saw you again," he admitted. "Not of you. Never of you."
Elizabeth reached over, resting her hand on Thomas's shoulder in a silent gesture of support. He covered her fingers with his own, squeezing gently.
Mark watched the exchange, his heart pounding in his chest. then agressive came out but not as violent "Mark....I think there is more to them then just being partners...." she said with a lack of darker tone "things here are Different and I know we can make it work for us....despite Everything they are our parents still." Yet, Annie's voice had a different edge now—not the aggressive tone from before, but something quieter, almost reflective. She turned slightly toward Mark, her good hand resting on the seat between them. "I don't know what we're walking into, but we don't have to face it alone."
Mark swallowed hard, his fingers brushing the fabric of Annie's hoodie sleeve where it met the pinned-up fabric near her stump. The material was soft, worn in places, as if she'd worn it a hundred times before. He didn't respond right away, just nodded slowly. The car hummed along, the rain outside drumming a steady rhythm against the windows.
they arrive Annie and mark got out with Thomas and Elizabeth when they enter the house one of the Girls there looked up "Master Thomas...Mistress Anna managed to Knock him out with a Frying pan but After he Shot his Ex girl friend in the Stomic she's Alive and Anna is trying to care for her...." one of the Girls that was living with them said
after getting up from the couch and bowing to Thomas. Her eyes then flickered over to Mark and Annie with curiosity, before shifting back to Thomas with a nervous smile.
Thomas nodded in acknowledgment, his expression unreadable as he moved past her toward the back of the house without another word. Elizabeth followed, her boots clicking against the hardwood floor, her posture relaxed but alert. The air inside smelled like cigarette smoke, antiseptic, and something sharp underneath—blood, maybe, or the metallic tang of adrenaline.
Annie lingered for a moment, her good hand resting on the back of one of the living room couches. then she moved as they hear shots as the guy ran at Thomas with a Knife from behind "No you don't." she snarled as she used her claws to block the knife from hiting her father shocking Everyone But Mark it was a standard move for Agressive as thugs in the old City used Knives alot so she able to make Stantard moves for Knives quite well. when Thomas turned around and Elizabeth was surprised she used her Claws to block the knife. then she use her arm grabing the knife "Drop it." she growls "And I May not TEAR out your throat or I could Rip out your dick." She says to the intruder "You get one warning." She held the knife just inches from his throat, the blade glinting under the flickering overhead light.
Thomas had already twisted away from the blade, his reflexes sharp from years of enforcement work. He placed himself between the intruder and Elizabeth, his stance wide and commanding. "Control your partner," he ordered the man, his voice low and dangerous. The intruder’s pupils were dilated, his breathing ragged. He clutched a small handgun in his other hand, the muzzle trembling slightly.
Elizabeth stepped forward, her uniform sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her posture relaxed but coiled with controlled energy. then Mark Snuck up and grab the Gun and was Able to force him to Drop the Gun then he kick out the man's Knee "While Unlike my sister I don't Like to kill.....uniless I have no Choice...." Mark said, his voice steady but lower than his sister's had been. He kept the gun trained on the intruder, his finger off the trigger but his stance firm. The metal was cold and unfamiliar in his hands, but he held it like he’d been born to it. His eyes never left the man’s face.
The intruder gasped as Mark’s boot connected with his knee, the joint bending the wrong way with a sickening pop. He crumpled onto the floor, half-sobbing, half-laughing in pain. Blood dripped from a split lip onto the hardwood, mixing with the old stains.
Annie didn’t lower her arm. "Dad Check on Mom and the Victim Um Do you have Cuffs?' Mark asked in a calm Voice after he placed the Gun on the table beside him, not wanting to keep it on him any longer than necessary. He kept his hand on the table, fingers splayed, watching the intruder’s ragged breathing. The adrenaline was still coursing through him, but his voice didn’t shake.
Elizabeth moved past Thomas with a fluid step, her hand reaching into a pouch on her belt. She retrieved a pair of restraints—flexible, reinforced polymer cuffs, the kind used in high-risk encounters. She tossed them to Mark without looking away from the intruder.
"You tie him up," she said, her tone light, almost amused.
"Make sure he can’t move."
Mark caught the cuffs, cold and familiar in his palm, and crouched down beside the trembling man. The intruder’s breath hitched when Mark reached for his wrist, but he didn’t resist. His eyes darted between Mark, Annie, and the others, pupils wide with realization: he was out of options.
"You’ll regret this," the man spat, his voice raw. "You don’t know what’s coming for you."
Mark didn’t respond. He clicked the cuff around the man’s wrist, securing it tightly. The polymer molded to the man’s skin with a quiet *click*. "Me and my sis for the last year had to live in a City that gone to hell your lucky Normaly My sister....the one with the metal Arm Don't Hesitate when someone is Threating someone....she normaly TEARS out the throat of who ever she is fighting." Mark said as he snapped
the second cuff around the intruder's other wrist. The man's face had gone slack with
shock, his lower lip trembling. He didn't resist anymore. His breath came in shallow,
uneven puffs that fogged the air between them.
Thomas moved quickly to the back room where the gunshot victim lay. The scent of
blood was stronger here—copper and something medicinal under it. Anna knelt beside a
young woman with dyed blonde hair, her stomach wrapped in a makeshift bandage of torn
shirt fabric. The blonde's eyes fluttered open at the sound of footsteps, darting toward
Thomas with desperate hope.
"Master T—!" she choked, her voice raw with
panicked relief. Blood flecked her lips as she spoke, her fingers trembling
against the bloodstained fabric pressed to her abdomen. She tried to sit up,
but Anna's firm hand kept her down. "Shhh. Stay still, little one. You lost
some blood, but the bullet passed clean through. You're going to be fine."
Anna's voice was surprisingly gentle, almost maternal, despite the crude wound
she'd had to patch in a panic.
Thomas crouched beside them, his expression hardening as he assessed the
blonde's condition. His fingers brushed the fabric—already soaked through in
some spots. "Rest, you need it My son and Daughter Got your ex in cuffs." Anna froze "they're here?" she asked then Annie Walked in having kept the Arm "Hey mom...Elizabeth and Mark Got the Man." Annie walked up to her mother "How is she?" Anna looked at her daughter and gave a tired smile "she will live...her name is...carla." Anna said then looked back down at the blonde woman "I just need to clean this wound properly, but the bleeding has slowed. She'll pull through." her eyes flicked up to Annie "You...you took care of this?" She gestured vaguely to the man now restrained in their living room, his muffled groans drifting through the doorway.
Annie nodded, her mechanical forearm twitching at her side as she flexed the wrist. "He wasn't expecting resistance. Neither was I, not really." She glanced down at Carla, her voice softening slightly. then Annie pulls off her mechanical arm Um Dad is it possible to Create a Second arm for me one I can wear with normal fingers...while my claws are good for tearing things they are pardon my langange....shit at holding...I had to learn to make my left arm my Domenant arm....." Anna froze Realizing that Annie was missing her right arm from the elbow down and it thanks to her past as a nurse she realise that her daughter had to take drastic measures "Annie...what the hell did you go through...." Anna voice was filled with concern and love "I was trapped in a fire a beam fell on it ...I had to cut it off to escape...I was pinned...and the bottle was already broken..." She said with a distant tone as if remembering something she didn't want to "the pain...it was there but...I didn't have time to think" Annie's voice wavered slightly as she remembers the fire and the pain that came with it "I...I know it may sound stupid mom but I can't keep holding things with my left hand...I can't write...I can't do much with it..." Annie said as she took a deep breath her voice softening as she looked at her mom "I...I want to be able to hold you...to hold Mark...to hold..." her voice got caught in her throat. The synthetic claw of her mechanical forearm clicked softly against the tile floor as she flexed it, the motion instinctive, painful. Anna swallowed hard, her throat tight, her eyes burning with something fiercer than anger—something raw and protective.
Without a word, she reached out with both hands. One curled around Annie’s stump, warm and steady, the other guided Annie’s surviving hand to her own face. She pressed Annie’s palm against her cheek, holding it there.
"You’re still my daughter," Anna said, her voice rough but clear. "Still my girl. Still *Annie*."
Annie’s breath hitched. She didn’t pull away.