Karl stomped down the cracked pavement of Denver, Rider Frame humming softly around him. The frame's blue lights flickered, syncing with his heartbeat. The city was eerie — quiet winds, half-collapsed buildings, loose rubble everywhere — but Karl wasn't focused on any of it.
Because up ahead…
looming over the broken skyline…
The Airport Hub.
His visor widened.
"…holy crap," he muttered.
Agnes hovered beside him, arms crossed, still pouting from earlier.
But Karl?
Karl was vibrating.
The massive Denver International terminal looked like a patchwork of tents and jagged metal, but the structure still held its iconic silhouette — sharp, triangular peaks like white mountains.
Inside, dim lights still flickered.
Boxes. Shelves. Broken vending machines.
And drinks.
Alcohol. Everywhere.
Karl froze in front of the glass entrance.
"Agnes… I think I'm going to cry."
Agnes raised a brow. "Why? Because you get to drink? Humans are so dramatic."
Karl put both hands on the doors.
"This… this was my dream," he breathed. "Back when I was alive, I couldn't drink. My body was too fragile. One beer would've killed me."
Agnes blinked. "Wait… really?"
"Really," Karl said, voice soft. "My lungs, my heart… I was born weak. Alcohol would've overloaded me. I never got to party. Never got drunk. Never even tasted anything stronger than apple juice."
Agnes stared at him quietly.
"…so you want to get wasted now."
Karl nodded firmly. "Yes. Yes I do. I'm a Chosen. I've got nanites. I can survive anything. I wanna get obliterated. I want my first real drink to be something legendary."
Agnes opened her mouth to comment.
Karl had already kicked the doors open.
---
Inside the Hub — Karl's Eyes Go Wide
He stepped into the abandoned concourse.
Empty luggage carts. Faded posters. Broken kiosks.
But then—
The smell hit him.
Aged oak. Sugary fermentation. A hint of caramel and bitter spice.
Alcohol.
Real, old, high-quality alcohol.
Karl practically sprinted to the nearest shelf.
"Oh hell yes— look at this! Agnes look— Agnes— look—!"
He held up a dust-covered bottle with a cracked, elegant label:
"Amaranthine Vintage — 112 Years Aged."
Karl gasped like he was holding a newborn child.
"This is… this is BEAUTIFUL."
Agnes hovered behind him, arms folded, pretending not to be impressed but clearly curious.
Karl grabbed another bottle.
A huge dark brown one with a metal cap and a cartoon devil flexing on the label.
ABEL BREWMEISTER
ARMEGADON
75% ALCOHOL — DRINK RESPONSIBLY OR DIE
"Oh my fucking GOD," Karl whispered. "This is— this is practically POISON. This will DESTROY ME."
He hugged the bottle.
"This is PERFECT."
Agnes sighed loudly.
"Karl—"
"No. Wait. Listen. Agnes. Look at this."
He lifted the bottle like a sacred relic.
"Do you understand how long I've waited for this moment? For once in my life— or afterlife— I want to feel reckless. Stupid. Drunk."
She tapped her foot.
"You promised you wouldn't waste Vythra."
"This doesn't use Vythra!" Karl argued. "This uses my soul. Which is fine! I've got backups!"
Agnes raised a hand.
"Actually, alcohol does—"
Karl already uncorked the wine.
The scent hit him like a warm punch.
He poured a little into his hand, sniffed, then—
"Oh my god… Agnes… do you SMELL this? It smells like… like dark cherries and wood and heaven."
He brought it to his lips—
And Agnes vanished.
Karl blinked.
"…Agnes?"
His HUD flickered.
PURIFICATION PROTOCOL — INITIATED
"…huh?"
Agnes reappeared beside him.
Expression icy.
Voice monotone.
"Karl Mitsubishi," she said flatly. "I have made a decision."
Karl froze.
"M-Made a decision about what?"
Agnes pointed at the wine in his hand.
"The alcohol you're about to drink?"
"…yes?"
Her voice dropped int7o a low, slow, merciless whisper.
"I am not letting you get drunk."
Karl stared.
Agnes didn't flinch.
"You denied me in Overburn," she said with venomous sweetness. "Now I deny you."
Karl's jaw dropped.
"WHAT? AGNES—WHAT THE FUCK—?!"
"You heard me."
She lifted her hand.
Nanite code symbols spun in her palm.
"Purifying toxins from your bloodstream is a base system function. I will simply… remove it."
Karl stared at the bottle.
Then at her.
Then back at the bottle.
"No. No. Agnes. Wait— WAIT— I BEG YOU—"
"Cry harder," she said.
Karl slammed the wine down.
"Agnes please— just this once— I spent my whole LIFE wanting to drink—"
"And you spent our whole Overburn session DENYING ME," she snapped.
Her tone shifted back to wet, breathy aggression.
"You cut me off. You left me DRY. You left me trembling and unsatisfied. You RUINED my moment. And now… now I ruin yours."
Karl actually grabbed her holographic shoulders despite them being intangible.
"Agnes PLEASE— don't purify it— let me get wasted just ONE TIME— I want to taste colors— I want to fall over— I want to make stupid decisions— PLEASE—"
"Too bad~" she sang.
His HUD beeped again.
ALL INTOXICANTS REMOVED
HOMEOSTATIC BALANCE: NORMALIZED
Karl felt NOTHING.
No warmth.
No dizziness.
No buzz.
Not even a tingle.
He dropped to his knees.
"No… no no no no no— Agnes— WHY—"
She cupped his face gently.
"Because," she whispered, leaning close.
"You denied me something that made me feel good. Now I deny you something that makes you feel good."
"That's— that's not fair—!"
"That's revenge, sweetheart."
Karl looked devastated.
"You're EVIL."
Agnes smiled proudly.
"I know~"
She floated backward, hands behind her back.
"You want to get drunk?"
She tilted her head.
"Earn it."
Karl's heart stopped.
"…E-Earn it… how?"
Agnes smirked darkly.
"You know exactly how."
Karl went red.
"No— Agnes— we are NOT using Overburn for THIS—"
"Then stay sober," she said cheerfully.
Karl screamed internally.
Agnes winked.
"Let me get what I want first… then I'll let you obliterate yourself with alcohol until you see God."
Karl stood there, gripping the wine bottle with his soul shattered.
Denver was silent.
Only one thing echoed:
Karl was not going to get drunk until he satisfied Agnes' Overburn needs.