The freefall through thirty thousand feet of infected air should have been terrifying. Instead, Jack felt only cold anticipation as Manhattan's devastated skyline rushed up to meet him. His enhanced vision tracked the alien bio-luminescence that painted the city in sickly greens and purples, mapping threat distributions with mechanical precision.
Atmospheric analysis complete, ATLAS reported. Xynos spore concentration: 12,000 particles per cubic meter. Initiating immune system countermeasures.
Jack felt his nanomachines surge through his bloodstream, creating antibodies for toxins that would have killed a baseline human in minutes. The infected air tasted like copper and ozone, but his enhanced metabolism simply filtered out the harmful elements and converted them to usable energy.
His adaptive camouflage flickered and died as he passed through the 5,000-foot mark, revealing his form to any aliens with functioning sensors. It didn't matter. Stealth was for the weak, and Jack Steel was no longer weak.
Landing zone acquired, ATLAS announced. Rooftop of 45th and Broadway. No immediate hostiles detected, but motion sensors indicate Blade Arms pack approximately 400 meters southeast.
Jack's body twisted in midair with inhuman grace, his nanomachine-enhanced reflexes adjusting his trajectory with millimeter precision. The rooftop rushed up to meet him, and he absorbed the impact of his landing by converting kinetic energy directly into his nanomachine power reserves.
The silence that followed was deceptive. Through his enhanced hearing, Jack could detect the subtle sounds of alien movement throughout the surrounding buildings—the whisper of Blade Arms sharpening their weapons against concrete, the wet bubbling of Acid Spitters charging their chemical weapons, the deep vibrations of a Hammer Head somewhere in the distance.
Threat assessment update, ATLAS announced. 87 distinct alien signatures within a six-block radius. Recommended approach: systematic elimination working inward toward primary target.
Jack looked across the transformed cityscape. What had once been the bustling heart of New York was now a alien necropolis. Buildings were wrapped in metallic vines that pulsed with bioluminescent patterns. Streets were covered in what looked like organic carpeting that shifted and moved as if breathing. The famous electronic billboards of Times Square had been replaced by alien communication nodes that sang in frequencies that made his teeth ache.
"No," he said aloud. "We go straight through."
Analysis: direct approach increases probability of simultaneous multi-vector attacks by 340%. Recommend tactical patience.
"I don't want to be patient," Jack replied, surprised by the honesty in his voice. "I want to kill them. All of them. Now."
He felt his nanomachines respond to his emotional state, flooding his system with combat stimulants while simultaneously dampening any fear or doubt. His efficiency rating climbed to 156% as his enhanced physiology prepared for war.
Jack leaped from the rooftop, his enhanced muscles launching him across the forty-foot gap to the next building with casual ease. He landed silently on the fire escape, his molecular adhesion abilities keeping him stable on the rusted metal.
The first Blade Arms emerged from a shattered window three floors below him, drawn by some alien sense that detected his presence. It looked up at him with compound eyes that reflected his enhanced form in dozens of fractured images.
Contact, ATLAS reported unnecessarily. Single Blade Arms specimen. Nanomachine count: 74.7 billion. Weapon systems: active.
The creature's arms began to shift and flow, the nanomachines beneath its translucent skin reorganizing into razor-sharp implements of death. In seconds, it had transformed from a vaguely humanoid figure into something that looked like a fusion of man and blender.
Jack dropped straight down, his enhanced reflexes allowing him to track the alien's blade-arms as they swept through the air where he had been standing. He landed on the creature's shoulders, wrapping his legs around its neck while his hands found purchase on its head.
Initiating toxin release, ATLAS announced.
Jack felt the paralytic venom flow from the glands in his palms—the gift from the Spideron he'd absorbed during his integration. The Blade Arms convulsed as the neurotoxin flooded its system, but its nanomachines were already adapting, developing countermeasures with frightening speed.
"Adaptive immunity," Jack muttered, impressed despite himself. "Let's see how you adapt to this."
He twisted the creature's head with enough force to separate vertebrae, but the Blade Arms was already swinging its weapon-arms back toward him. Jack released his grip and flipped backward, his enhanced agility carrying him clear of the deadly blades.
The alien spun to face him, its neck twisted at an impossible angle but its weapon systems still fully functional. Nanomachines were already repairing the damage, realigning its spine with mechanical efficiency.
Fascinating, ATLAS observed. Redundant control systems. The creature can function despite catastrophic structural damage.
"Good," Jack said, feeling something that might have been joy. "I was hoping for a real fight."
The Blade Arms lunged forward, its weapon-arms spinning like chainsaws. Jack ducked under the first swing, caught the second blade-arm with his bare hand, and felt the monomolecular edge try to cut through his enhanced skin.
His nanomachines held. Barely.
Warning: structural integrity at 67% in contact area. Recommend immediate disengagement.
Instead, Jack gripped the blade-arm tighter and yanked, using the alien's own momentum against it. The creature stumbled forward, and Jack drove his knee up into its center mass with enough force to crater the fire escape beneath them.
The impact sent the Blade Arms flying through a window into the building's interior. Jack followed, his enhanced muscles launching him through the same opening in a spray of glass and alien fluids.
The creature was already recovering, its nanomachines working overtime to repair the damage. But Jack could see the strain in its systems—the slight delay in its movements, the flicker in its weapon transformations. It was reaching the limits of its adaptive capabilities.
Multiple hostiles approaching, ATLAS warned. Two additional Blade Arms specimens ascending from lower floors.
"Let them come," Jack replied, his nanomachines flooding his system with combat drugs that made every sensation hyperreal. "I want to test the new absorption protocols."
The damaged Blade Arms charged again, this time with both weapon-arms extended in a scissors attack designed to cut Jack in half. He sidestepped the first blade, grabbed the creature's extended arm, and used it as leverage to snap-kick the alien's head with enough force to embed it in the concrete wall.
Target neutralized, ATLAS announced. Beginning absorption sequence.
Jack placed his hand on the twitching alien corpse, and his nanomachines flowed out like liquid mercury. They swarmed over the Blade Arms, analyzing its structure, reverse-engineering its weapon systems, and integrating useful technologies into Jack's own biology.
The sensation was intoxicating. He could feel new capabilities flowing into his system—the ability to reshape his arms into cutting implements, enhanced reaction speeds, improved structural integrity. His nanomachine count ticked upward as his own machines consumed and repurposed their alien counterparts.
Integration complete, ATLAS reported with obvious satisfaction. Blade transformation capability acquired. Efficiency rating increased to 162%. Additional Blade Arms specimens now in visual range.
Jack looked at his right arm and willed it to change. His nanomachines responded instantly, flowing beneath his skin to form a sleek, deadly blade that gleamed with monomolecular sharpness. The weapon felt like a natural extension of his body, perfectly balanced and razor-keen.
Two more Blade Arms burst through the stairwell door, their weapon-arms already active and seeking targets. They moved with coordinated precision, trying to flank him from opposite sides.
Jack smiled—an expression that would have terrified any human who saw it.
"Perfect," he said, testing the weight of his new blade-arm. "Let's see how well you fight someone who speaks your language."
The enhanced combat that followed was beautiful in its lethality. Jack moved like liquid death, his new blade-arm cutting through alien weapons and armor with effortless precision. His enhanced reflexes let him track multiple attacks simultaneously, while his improved reaction speed made the Blade Arms look clumsy by comparison.
Performance analysis: combat efficiency at 198% of previous baseline, ATLAS reported as Jack decapitated the second alien with a casual backhand. Weapon integration successful beyond projections.
Jack stood among the alien corpses, his blade-arm still extended, feeling more alive than he had since his transformation. This was what he was designed for—not protection, not rescue, but pure, efficient killing.
Additional threats detected, ATLAS announced. Acid Spitters moving to investigate disturbance. Shall we continue toward primary target?
Jack retracted his blade-arm and looked toward Times Square, where the alien breeding facility pulsed with malevolent life. Somewhere in the tunnels below, twelve humans waited for rescue.
He found that he no longer cared about the humans. They were secondary objectives, potential complications to his real mission: becoming strong enough to make every alien suffer as his family had suffered.
"Yes," he said, stepping over the alien corpses. "Let's continue."
The war was just beginning, and Jack Steel was finally ready to fight it properly.