11 Robot Boy

Casimiro left the encrypted notes from Nova about the infiltration on his sheets as he rolled out of bed. She already had an ally— against his orders, but no matter. She was alive and working on getting the Dragon Stone.

Casimiro entered the bathroom and placed his hands on either side of the sink.

The Dragon Stone was a historical artifact that had been in the Underworld for generations.

It was his artifact. Passed down from his ancestors since it was created. It belonged to him. When it was first created, it was said to bring luck, love, and wealth to those who had it.

Well, several years ago, he lost it and thought nothing of it. Then, immediately after, he and his mother got into a car accident.

She died.

And he survived.

Which was a lot worse than if he had died instead— or even with her. But he lost his arm and part of his body in the accident.

Including his heart.

He selfishly wished his father had let him die instead of saving him with the technology he had built.

Which made him half machine. Half of his heart, part of his torso, a fraction of his face and jaw, and his entire left arm were now machine.

But his mom…

She died immediately and couldn't have been saved. Unlike him, who was brought back to this hellhole. This life without his mother.

And his unborn sister.

She hadn't told anyone. Not even him— he found out when he found the doctor's letter. His dad didn't know and Casimiro will be bringing that secret to his grave.

At the top of that opened letter on her bed, she had scribbled the name 'Ophelia'.

It had been the name he said he wanted if he had a baby sister when he was young.

He had been so excited. A little sister. He would have given everything to meet her just once.

Casimiro looked up from the sink and stared at his reflection. His left eye was bionic after he lost it in the accident. He could see the metal under the skin on his face. Half his eye socket, cheekbone, and jaw had been reconstructed with a special metal called 'Callotonium'. His dad had found it on a meteor and had been using it for all sorts of things. It had many properties he didn't care to learn and it doesn't exist anywhere else.

Casimiro looked at his matte black Callotonium left arm that connected onto his torso. Furthermore, he could see his metal ribs, and the special material made to patch his lungs together. His spine, collarbone.

He was offered to have skin grafted on, but it's not like he would be able to feel it. And he wanted to be able to look and remember that it was his fault.

After tracking down the person who crashed into them and getting information about who he worked for, Casimiro found it was an enemy of his family's he had provoked. After clashing over something he couldn't remember, Casimiro's words to the patriarch were 'over my dead body.'

Turns out, he had taken it to heart.

After obliterating them off the face of the planet, Casimiro didn't feel any better. His mom didn't come back. He would never meet his sister.

His dark hair fell over his eyes.

Life wasn't fair.

The anger and frustration had built up by that point. It was always a cycle. Pretending to be fine and sane for a little while, then the anger builds, the guilt swells, the unjustness of it all overwhelms, and then he loses it for a day before the cycle repeats. Apparently, today was that day. That one day he allows himself to be disheveled.

Pushing off of the sink and stuffing his hands back through his hair a few times, he walks back into his bedroom to get dressed. He put on large coat and gloves before getting into the elevator. He pressed 'B' and it brought him down to the basement.

The dark, scarcely lit room was small and there was nothing in it except for a security camera in the top left corner. He approached the wall in front of him and it slid up to reveal a long hallway with many doors.

He walked down to the last door at the far end of the hall and entered. He opened the heavy door to a man held up by chains around his wrists and one dim light on the ceiling.

The man looked up and started laughing when he saw who it was.

"Well, well, " the man said in his raspy voice. "Long time no see, Robot Boy. You only come here when you're especially angry. What is it this time? Girl trouble?"

Casimiro said nothing as he took off his coat and gloves, and then rolled up the sleeves to his white dress shirt.

"Ooooh," the man taunted. "Bringing out the big guns."

Casimiro rolled his shoulders back, approaching the man.

Boris smirked before shaking his head, tsking. "Tsk, tsk. What would your mother say to you beating up y-"

Casimiro punched him in the mouth. "How many times have I told you not to talk about my mother?"

"Pfffft," the man rolled his eyes. "I don't even remember anymore. But I do remember the fear in her eyes when I-"

At least he knew what his job was. Casimiro wasn't going to kill him. It was his best outlet. The man wouldn't shut up about his mother. He'd tried pursuing her for decades and was especially angry when she married Casimiro's father. He was so angry he planned her death so many times. And when he was approached after so many years to kill her offspring and her, he took the offer immediately.

Now, he was being beat to the brink of death for it. After so many years. And yet, he was satisfied that he was able to kill her and make her child a robot.

"He's coming for you," Boris said with blood trickling from his mouth. "Get ready because it will be soon." He cackled like the psychopath he was, rambling about the same person he claimed to be crazy and coming for Casimiro.

Why? Casimiro didn't know. But he was speculating. If this person even existed or if Boris had lost his mind after so long in torture.

Either way, Casimiro didn't care. If someone was coming for him, bring it on. He had nothing left to lose.