Tanya stood, hands on her hips, chest puffed out like a defiant little general. For a fleeting moment, she felt like they could take on the world, apocalypse or not. Then, as the adrenaline simmered, she noticed the thin fingers of darkness slipping through the crooked wooden planks. She yawned, long and wide. Whatever adventure was out there, it would have to wait for daylight. Funny, though—for the first time since the world ended she actually wanted to go out and see it.

"Ya in a rush to go?" she called to Olena, who was swaggering toward the door like it owed her money.

Olena slowed, eyeing Tanya with theatrical suspicion. "Hm, depend why you asking." She spun a chunky set of keys around her finger with a lazy flourish, the metal clinking like tiny swords. Her other hand gripped the doorknob, and her mechanical arm gave a noisy clunk as it adjusted up her shoulder. A grin curled on her lips.

"I know it's still a hole or whatever ya called it," Tanya said, jerking her chin at the messy room around them, "but the tattoos are still pretty neat."

Olena let out a delighted squeal and skipped back over with the grace of a cat in army boots. She threw herself onto the sofa, landing right on a rogue bit of their scavenged loot and yelping in dramatic agony.

"Ah! Who put dagger in couch?" she scowled, rubbing her back and shooting a death glare at a particularly guilty-looking plank.

"No rush, but whatcha thinkin'?" Tanya asked, easing herself onto the edge of the old tattoo chair. From the corner of her eye, she caught Ishita gently guiding a sleepy Fahad upstairs while Mrs Eceer shuffled into the kitchen, already lost in her interface again.

"Night night," Fahad mumbled through a yawn big enough to crack his jaw.

"Night," they echoed in chorus.

"Don't let bedbugs eat your toes!" Olena added brightly.

The boy giggled and vanished around the corner and up the stairs.

Assistant floated over to her arm and pointed

"You done now?"

One tap for yes.

She held out her arm and Assitant climbed back onto it.

Olena spun back to Tanya and watched the interaction transfixed like she'd just remembered they were alive. "What can it do? Can I have another cannon? Can I have cursed crown? Oh no! I want teleport!" Her hands smacked her lap, eyes wild with excitement. "Can I become monster and spy on them?!"

Tanya barked out a laugh. "Hold your horses. Bein' honest, I'm not totally sure what it can do. I've done three so far—well, on purpose anyway."

Olena's eyes narrowed. "How you do tattoo not on purpose?"

Tanya scratched her head like it might help untangle the mess of memories. "Well, uh... The System brought my old tattoos to life too. Found out the hard way, just after finishing one."

Olena leaned in, lips parted in awe. "Woah. How many you got?"

"Hundreds? Thousands maybe? I can scroll through 'em but there's barely any info—just a list like some crusty spreadsheet."

Without warning, Olena sprang to her feet like a firework. "Use Olga! She perfect. We look together and find inspiration for perfect art!"

She dropped into a squat and slapped her heavy metal arm onto her lap, palm-up like she was offering it as tribute. With a practised flick, she hit a button on the side, and it hissed open on a hinge. Up close, Tanya caught the Frankenstein details: a car wheel rim forming the hinge, some panels lined with pink-painted dashboard leather, and faint scratches from past lives etched into the metal.

"I just put it on?" Tanya asked, suddenly reverent.

"Thunk in here and I close her up," Olena said proudly.

Tanya slipped her forearm into the contraption. It was cold, rough, the interior shaped to lock her wrist perfectly straight like some industrial exoskeleton. Olena clamped it shut with a solid click, and Tanya instinctively lifted the arm—but it barely budged.

"Holy crap this is heavy!" she gasped, her shoulder tensing against the weight.

Olena nodded with pride, eyes shining. "She a big girl, my Olga. Okay so here…" Her fingers danced like a caffeinated pianist over the mess of buttons, blipping and beeping until a pale glow bloomed on the screen embedded in the arm's makeshift shell—an iPod-looking thing, clearly retrofitted for something far beyond music.

Tanya squinted at the flickering white screen, her arm still weighed down by Olga like she was trying to scroll through a laptop bolted to a dumbbell. It felt strange, like a subtle pinch of a blood draw. She could tell something was leaving her body, so she opened her Interface. Nothing had changed yet, so it must be slow.

"Uhhh, Olena, is this gonna go all crazy on me and suck my life out or somethin." Tanya wished she'd asked more questions.

"It use Vitality," Olena said brightly, "But it slow—just need human battery I think."

If Tanya wasn't very used to Assistant sucking her lifeforce, she had a feeling that would freak her out a lot more. As it was, it was just slightly uncanny, and she felt like she could give it a few Vitality points to try out something so new.

"Alright, let's see what kinda stuff's buried in here…" she muttered, thumbing through the clunky interface. The screen lagged a bit, then blinked to life, lines of data scrolling past.

Olena leaned over eagerly, one leg bouncing with anticipation. "Show me cursed crown. Or ghost snake. Or cursed ghost snake crown!"

Tanya snorted. "You gotta chill. This ain't a magic hat catalogue."

She tapped the display again, and with a soft click, the boxes from her usual Tattoos Interface appeared in a grid down the screen. They were black and white and glitching slightly, like an old television with a wonky antenna.

"Woah I want this one!" Olena insisted, reaching over Tanya until she was way too close and pressing one of the boxes.

Heh, It's Phantom Brand's twin.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

• • •

Name: 血跡 Wielder: 陈瑷菡 Type: Weapon Level: 1

Attributes

Impact: 14 Absorption: 5 Resilience: 20

Abilities

靈魂墨水 Can seep into the remains of the dead, manipulating them through inky tendrils. The more intact the body, the stronger the control; decayed remains are harder to command. Those with strong wills in life may resist even in death.

Boons

難忘 Common Boon—刻在痛苦中 Despite 血跡 size, it was completed in a single sitting, bonding even deeper to the wielder. If they fall unconscious, the tattoo takes control, animating their body until they awaken.

• • •

Olena's mouth dropped open like she'd just been told she could legally adopt a chainsaw. "Dead people puppets?! I need this. No—we need this. Imagine—spy army. Zombie ballet. I name them. Gregor, Marzipan, Tiny Kevin—"

"I ain't puttin' that on someone unless they really hate themselves," Tanya said, half-laughing. She scrolled down to another entry.

"Ready for me to blow your mind," Tanya said, feeling her grin grow.

"Always."

"I actually got a tattoo like that one."

"What?! Show me, show me, show me—" Olena shrieked, drumming her palms excitedly against her canon arm in a symphony of metal clanks.

Tanya gave a half-hearted groan and rolled her neck like she was bracing for a shot. "Alright, but don't freak out."

"I never freak out."

"That is definitely a lie."

Still, Tanya pulled her skirt up to one side and stared down at the magical ink. Seeing it gave her pause. Phantom Brand. Even the name gave her a phantom itch up her spine. She'd last used it back when it tried to suck her soul out through her fingernails. Nothing felt better than knowing she'd gained 6 levels in controlling it. It stood no chance now.

The tattoo pulsed. She held her hand beside it and willed it into existence.

For a second, nothing happened. Then a shimmer tore through the air in front of her like someone had ripped reality open with a fish hook. Shadows spilled from the rift in thin wisps, like smoke made of secrets, and from the dark slithered the blade—long, elegant, and very obviously judging everyone in the room.

It floated. Hovered like it owned the air. The metal wasn't metal, not really—just a shifting void shaped into the idea of a weapon. The edge hissed faintly as it moved, a sound like whispering teeth.

Olena stared. "Oh. Oh no. That is bad vibes. Why do it look like it eat feelings?"

Tanya held her arm out, blocking her. "Don't touch it."

Olena was already reaching. "Why not? I just wanna—"

"Olena!" Tanya insisted, pulling back further. "This thing tried to possess me last time. Like, full body takeover. We're not giving it another shot."

Olena snatched her hand back with a squeak. "Okay! Rude sword. Got it."

Tanya rummaged beside the sofa and grabbed a splintered plank—probably from earlier when Olena lost a battle with couch debris—and held it out.

The sword twitched. Then it dove.

The plank vanished in a second, swallowed whole by the blade with a strange sucking shloop. The shadowy metal warped, twisted, and reformed—and where there'd been ominous void, now there was… wood. An actual wooden sword. Knotted, gnarled, and slightly sticky-looking. Still hovering like it had no business being held by gravity.

Olena gasped so loud she hiccupped. "IT ATE A TREE. It's a tree vampire. What else can it eat?! Bricks? Sausages?!"

Tanya laughed, tension easing from her shoulders now that it had a proper anchor. "See, it's fine. Once it latches onto a material, it stops trying to latch onto me."

Olena narrowed her eyes like she was deciding whether it was cursed enough to be worth it. "So… I can touch it now?"

"Yeah, yeah. Knock yourself out."

Olena snatched the hilt like she was being handed the Holy Grail—and immediately started swinging it around the room. "HYAH! Take that, cursed kitchen! And you, haunted broom!"

Tanya held her hands over her head. "Oi! Careful! It's still technically an alien entity!"

"It's a stick now!" Olena shouted mid-spin, nearly decapitating a coat rack. "A sticky stick! I love it!"

Tanya ducked a wild swing, laughing too hard to care. "I swear if it starts whispering to you I'm locking it back up."

Olena grinned like a maniac. "What if it whispers secrets? Or recipes?! Tanya, this is best day ever."

And for a moment, it was. Apocalypse or not, soul-sucking sword or not—there was something comforting about watching your mad, metal-armed new friend duel invisible ghosts in your living room with a sentient piece of wood.

After a few minutes, Olena collapsed on the sofa beside her again, out of breath. Tanya shifted some more loot off the sofa so they could sit more comfortably. She'd begun scrolling again.

"Let me see!" Olena said, and Tanya shifted around so Olena was looking over her shoulder.

Tanya scrolled for a bit before picking one, passing flowers and snakes and skulls. None of them really grabbed her until she saw the crystal dragon. It was only a head and on a woman's thigh, with the sparkles tattooed in. It was from a year or so ago, back when she was working on her more realistic shading. She remembered the client because of the story behind it. She wanted to combine the year of the dragon, her zodiac sign, and her birth gemstone all into one. That led to a very unique ruby dragon with a lion's mane made of gemstone.

• • •

Name: Glass Maw Wielder: Lucy Gilroy Type: Weapon Level: 1

Attributes Impact: 9 Absorption: 2 Resilience: 27

Abilities Fracture Feed The bearer's mouth is replaced with a crystalline maw capable of chewing through stone, bone, and lesser metals. Consuming materials provides temporary boosts to defence and damage output. Risk of corruption with repeated use.

• • •

Olena shrieked with laughter. "TANYA. I could BITE A WALL."

"You already shoot everything," Tanya said dryly. "Let's not add a new habit."

"Corruption risk? Pfft. Worth it."

Tanya stared at the design for another moment, realising how high Lucy's Vitality must have been for it to awaken with such high Resilience. She wondered what it had been like feeling it on her jaw. Did it take it over or encase around it like a mouthguard?

It took a lot of effort for her to scroll away. Her fingers were now more confident on the janky buttons. The screen whirred like it was coughing up dust between entries. More tattoos began to appear, a mix of bizarre, deadly, and just plain weird.

• • •

Name: Ashen Bell Wielder: Sister Marea Type: Tool Level: 1

Attributes Impact: 4 Absorption: 18 Resilience: 8

Abilities Sanctum of the Lost Emits a soft tolling when activated, creating a protective aura around the user. The bell absorbs a portion of incoming attacks and muffles sounds within a small radius.

• • •

"Woah, Sister, does that mean, like, nun?"

Olena gasped. "You tattoo a nun? That sound like you going to hell."

Tanya grinned. "Shut it. Nuns aren't allowed tattoos so she must've converted after."

She wracked her brain for any client with a bell tattoo that seemed like they would become a nun. She only remembered one bell tattoo and it was more like the kind in a grandfather clock, not this one.

"It's a cool design," Tanya murmured, more to herself as she inspected it. "Really positive outcome. Feels more like it grows over time than tries to steal your body." She glared at the wooden sword by her feet.

"But theres so much cooler thing than bell. Although…" She smirked at Tanya with a glint in her eye. " If I get bell tattooed on me then I just shake my booty and go 'ding ding'."

Tanya snorted, shaking her head. "You're unhinged."

"I am visionary."

They sat there like that, flicking through entries late into the night, giggling, gasping, and sometimes going completely silent as something strange or sad came up. Some tattoos were tied to people clearly long gone—Abilities so powerful and violent that Tanya doubted they'd survived them awakening. With each of those, she reminded herself that this wasn't her choice. She hadn't chosen this.

Some felt like game changers, like a stopwatch that could show the Wielder a random single-second moment from any time in the Wielder's future. Most of them were niche or general buffs.

Eventually, Tanya leaned back in the chair, her arm still strapped in. "Gotta admit, this is kinda wild. Feels like lookin' through other people's dreams."

Olena smiled softly, her usual mania dimmed to something calmer. "Or nightmares. But maybe we turn them into something better, eh?"

Tanya glanced at her. "Alright. We'll pick something and start makin' designs to check out. Not tonight maybe, but soon."

Olena nodded. "But no Tiny Kevin?"

"No Tiny Kevin."

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