Tigole | Qxr

He’d looted it from a dead Atlas Corps operative five years ago. Since then, the gun’s titanium-ceramic frame had saved his life forty-three times. The glowing red aperture sight didn’t need batteries; it fed on the shooter’s adrenaline, pulsing brighter as Kaelen’s heart rate spiked.

Captain Kaelen “Zero” Voss never trusted smartguns. But the QXR Tigole — serial #0007 — was different. It didn’t assist his aim. It growled when he was in danger. qxr tigole

Kaelen glanced at his shredded left arm. “Shut up and shoot.” He’d looted it from a dead Atlas Corps

At the top of the ladder, Kaelen pulled himself into the rain-swept alley. An Atlas Corps VTOL screamed overhead, searchlights stabbing the dark. He pressed the Tigole to his lips — cold metal, warm ghost. Captain Kaelen “Zero” Voss never trusted smartguns

Kaelen limped toward the maintenance ladder, Tigole held against his chest like a sleeping wolf. “Thanks for the warning.”