I came to with a jolt, unsure if I was dreaming or rebooting. The air didn’t stink of blood or solvent, which was already suspicious. No cold slab under my back. No restraints. Just fabric, actual, breathable, non-synthetic fabric, and a faint hum in the walls, like something asleep but listening.
The hexagonal chamber around me wasn’t familiar. Walls were patched together from alloy panels etched with sigils, numbers, and chalk diagrams that looked halfway between machine code and cult scripture.
A sculpture, if you could call it that, dangled overhead. Melted glass, frayed cables, and something that might once have been a med-drone, all pulsing faintly like it remembered what a heartbeat used to be.
This had to be Rayjin’s place. Just met the guy once, but it feels like his home. Same layered chaos. Same smell of metal, ozone, and ego. Eccentric enough to be sacred. Slum wealth in a fancier wrapper.
I sat up too fast. Bad idea. The walls melted for a moment, my pulse thudding in my teeth. Skin prickled like I was still half-frozen.
My uniform waited on a frame nearby, suspended like a ghost mid-exit. When I touched it, the fibers curled around my fingers, warming like recognition. It slid over my limbs, tightening thread by thread until it sealed at the neck. Breathing with me.
Voices came through faint and sharp from the next chamber.
“…was never the plan,” Aedan’s voice, cool and precise.
“It is now,” Vex clipped. “Unless you’ve got a better idea hiding in that shiny wristband of yours.”
I stepped through the threshold.
They looked up. Aedan by the warped window, arms crossed, the cuff on his wrist glowing like a loaded threat. Vex pacing tight arcs, fingers flicking invisible data. Rayjin half-submerged in a nest of cabling and tools. Vulkred leaning against a radiator, sipping something sickly suspicious.
Vex cocked her head. “Well. Look who’s still breathing.”
“Prince charming,” I said, rubbing my neck. “With a working Neurolink, I hope.”
Her smirk twitched. “You sound alive, alright.”
I crossed the room as they made space. Aedan tossed a folded schematic onto the table. Vex flicked her fingers across it, lines lighting up in pale green.
“Hollow Thorn,” Aedan began. “Old transit nexus gang. They’ve been digging through ruins. Pulling tech. Testing it on… volunteers.”
Subtle name. Probably wore skulls for hats.
“They’re parasites,” Vex cut in. “And worse, curious ones.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And you want me to just stroll in?”
Rayjin snorted.
“They’ll want you,” Vex said, eyes glinting. “You’re already famous. Valcor’s parade turned you into a myth.”
I frowned. “So, I’m the bait.”
“A gift,” Aedan corrected. “Offered up from a rival slaver faction. No fuss.”
“So, I’m back on the auction block,” I said flatly.
Arvie sighed theatrically. “Look on the bright side, at least this time you get to know you’re the bait.”
“They’ll strip you,” Vulkred added, holding up a scanner like a blessing totem. “Left alone in a chamber for processing,”
“Lovely.”
“That’s your breach window,” said Aedan, pointing at the map. “Secondary hatch. Locked. You crack it, drop through a service chute, lands you in zone 12-O-1.”7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ53IxZ13VG6
“Infested,” Vex noted, a little too gleefully. “Nether beasts. Toxic miasma.”
“You’ll have to move fast,” Aedan added. “Quiet.”
I gave them a long, slow blink. “And how exactly am I doing all this with no weapons, zero gear?”
Silence.
Arvie chirped, “Want me to do it for you? I’ll just manifest a mech-suit out of sarcasm.”
“Seriously,” I said, “I’m not diving into a beast den naked and empty-handed. I left my satchel with the Directorate. Mutacell’s still in it.”
That landed like a dropped wrench.
“Mutacell,” Vex muttered, glancing at Aedan. “That changes things.”
I nodded. “If I have it, this whole thing might not be suicide.”
Rayjin leaned back in his chair, gears hissing beneath. “And you think they will just hand it to you if we ask them?”
“If Larek’s alive,” I said, “and we save him? He’ll hand me the whole damn tower.”
Vulkred said I was likely to die either way, and seemed oddly content about it.
“We extract Larek first,” Aedan decided. “That changes the equation.”
Rayjin sighed. “Fine. Just don’t bring another corpse back to my doorstep.”
“Let me check.” Aedan’s eyes glazed for half a breath, cuff pulsing faintly. He blinked, focused, jaw tight.
“Got something. Not confirmed, but strong enough to move on. Larek might be held near the old silos. Vult Rive’s turf.”
Arvie muttered, “Perfect. Neighborhood’s only got three stars on the crime index.”
Aedan scanned our faces. “We move soon. Let’s regroup in my place. Plan tight. No second chances.”
He turned and strode out.
We followed.
“Excellent. Back to my favorite strategy: zero intel, hostile territory, bait protocol.”
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