Cyborg scaling 1

From the corner of his vision, Jensen saw a hazy orange shimmer as light
warped and bent around an invisible form. He spun as the cloak of twisted
radiance fell away from the helmeted figure in black, getting a momentary
glimpse of four magenta-hued lowlight lenses set in a featureless blank
mask.

The thermoptical camouflage dissipated and the figure threw itself at
Jensen, a bright dagger snapping into place across the knuckles of their
hand like a switchblade. Acting on pure reflex, he brought up his arms to
block the stabbing motion and turn it aside. Artificial arms clashed with a
dull clatter of polycarbonate and Jensen’s hand jerked. He let off a shot into
the ceiling, the report of the pistol lost in the noise of the train as it
thundered through a tunnel.

Darkness descended, lit only by pulses of light from passing warning
lamps as they flashed by. In the strobing, staccato glow, Jensen and his
attacker twisted and fought in dangerously close quarters. The wide dagger
blade hummed as it cut through the air toward his throat time and time
again. With each swing, Jensen tried to extend away, but there was nowhere
to retreat to. Instead he went on the offensive, bringing down the butt of the
pistol on the brow of the helmet. He smashed one of the quad-eyes and the
attacker flinched; Jensen guessed they were neural-jacked straight into the
overlapping mech-optics, and although there would be no pain effect, it was
hard for anyone to have their eye – real or not – crushed and not shrink
from it, even for a moment.

He saw the opening and took it, landing a maximum-force punch in his
opponent’s throat, the impact shocking through the armored ruff around
their neck. That wide blade came at him again, but he parried it and shoved
his attacker off-balance.

The figure in black shot out a hand and tried to pull him close, grabbing
at his tactical rig, looking for a gap between the armor plates to put the tip
of the dagger. Jensen kept up momentum, knowing that to lose it would be
to end this mission before it had barely started. They stumbled together in a
ragged shuffle and crashed into the connecting door. The hatch slid open
behind them and the fighters swung around into the next carriage.
Jensen had barely a quarter-second to grasp a snapshot of the interior –
bodies and blood on the floor, another pair of black-suited assassins at the
far end of the rail car among racks of crates and boxes – before his
opponent reared up and butted him across the bridge of his nose with the
helmet. Pain ripped across his face and one of his eye shields grew a jagged
crack.

The other attackers reacted, one dropping into cover, the other releasing
a burst of automatic fire from a silenced SMG. Caseless rounds whined and
sparked off the racks along the walls, and Jensen used the distraction to
knock his close-quarter attacker away, finally gaining the distance he
needed. Jensen fired and the figure in black dropped to the deck.
The others came storming toward him, firing as they went. A hail of
bullets tore up the interior of the cargo wagon, ricochets shrieking as they
bounced off bins of scrapped equipment and other hardware on its way to
be melted down.

Jensen put his shoulder to one of the racks and gave it a hard shove,
dislodging a metal basket of splintered ceramic armor inserts. It landed with
a crash on the deck, upending its contents, and he went with it, using it as
momentary cover before launching himself at the other two attackers. He
had to close the distance to them, use the confines of the cargo wagon’s
narrow width to stop them raking him with more bursts of gunfire.

They were shoulder to shoulder as he dove at them, blocking his
advance. Jensen swept up and threw forward his arms, as if he were about
to punch both men at once – but instead he deployed the nanoblades hidden
in his aug arms at maximum extent, and followed all the way through with a
stabbing attack. The blunt edges of the monomolecular weapons skipped off
hard polymer chest plates and found purchase in the seams of the Kevlar
bodysuits beneath. Any cries of pain they gave were lost, trapped behind
their soundproof helmets, and they collapsed atop one another, rapidly
bleeding out.

- Deus Ex: Black Light, Chapter 11 pgs. 205-206