Murphy's Law

Daniel Reyes has died twice. The first time barely counted. The second time took everything — his arms, his legs, and any reasonable expectation of a normal life. What DARPA gave back was better. Faster. Stronger. The WRAITH system — Waveform Resonance Adaptive Interface Technology, Hybrid — rebuilt him from the ground up with carbon mesh prosthetics threaded with energy nobody could explain and a neural ocular implant that saw things human eyes weren't designed to see. Three months of rehabilitation later, Daniel was something new. Something that didn't have a name yet. Then the sky over Nevada cracked open and took him somewhere else entirely. He wakes up face-down in a fish cart in the free port of Delphorge, a medieval city built on magic, contracts, and the carefully maintained neutrality of the Tidebreaker Spire. His WRAITH system is rebooting in a language it was never designed to speak. His voice is physically unbearable to every living thing in earshot. He has no money, no weapon, no local language, and a debt he didn't ask for. What he does have is fifteen years of special operations experience, a set of prosthetics that are slowly becoming something more than prosthetics, and the bone-deep stubbornness of a man the universe has tried to kill three times and failed. Delphorge has seen Veil fracture arrivals before. It has never seen one like this. Daniel Reyes doesn't know what he is yet. Neither does anyone else. But the world is beginning to shift. Ancient things are stirring in the margins.  Murphy's Law: if something can go wrong, it will. It usually does.