The ride to OmniHQ was smooth and quiet. I sat, anxiously fidgeting and staring out the window into the dim light of the passing city streets. Moth tapped away at a tablet, but stared at me curiously anytime they thought I wouldn’t notice. Their gaze felt accusatory but I didn’t know what I could say, I didn’t have any answers about what could have happened either.

  We pulled into the roadside bay door of Saint’s lab, and I helped him lift Kaela onto a stretcher. A few assistants appeared shortly after as he rushed her to the medical room and left me standing in the main room. I barely noticed Moth’s limo back out and leave a moment later. I felt a sinking guilt as I stood alone in the room, and decided to find something to take my mind off the situation for a bit. Might as well check that data stick now. I thought.

  I knew Vera would demand I hand over the data as soon as she found out I had it, but I had a feeling there was something more to what was on the stick than she was letting on. I had seen a few of the files back at the Pulse and even at a glance could tell it was more than just weapon specs. I had to wonder if there was something here that had Vera so locked in on the retrieval and this was a chance to find out. I flopped onto the old, beat-up couch against the back wall, pulled the data stick from my boot, and slotted it into my personal system to have a peek.

  As I sifted through the files, I began to notice there was a lot more data than I expected. I knew the files were grabbed by Jared in a rush, and not all related to the weapon, but this felt more intentional. This felt like someone trying to gather leverage, evidence to protect themselves with, something potentially juicy. The standard OmniCore encryptions were present, and luckily for me I had clearance to bypass most of them as a recovery asset. Some I had to force my way past with some basic cracking soft I’d picked up for previous gigs.

  I found the weapon specs easily enough, the kind of files I expected to see: bundles of tech readouts, firing tests, design sheets, mechanical and engineering data. The clean and tight corporate branded data they could parade in front of investors and board members partnered with the hard data needed for manufacturing. Combined with the prototype, this was enough to siphon billions away from Omni in the weapons trade, those damn Rats had no idea what they had sitting in their grubby paws.

  Digging deeper, the organization started to fray. Internal communications, scraped and half-sorted, clearly grabbed in a hurry. Executive memos clipped mid-thread. Compliance warnings stamped with dates but no resolutions. Budget transfers that didn’t line up cleanly with project scopes. Nothing outright illegal, nothing that would get anyone hauled off in cuffs, but it painted a picture of a company arguing with itself behind closed doors. Someone had been scared. Scared enough to grab whatever dirt they could fit in their pockets before running.

  Then there were the files that didn’t belong anywhere. No consistent naming scheme, no clear department headers. A security audit with the site field left blank. A personnel log where the names were redacted along with the roles, as if someone didn’t want the idea of the position to exist at all. Timestamps that overlapped projects that supposedly never touched. These weren’t mistakes. They were too deliberate, too carefully misplaced, like someone had wanted them hidden but not erased.

  One archive in particular made my skin crawl. Heavily encrypted, not OmniCore standard, tagged as archival but accessed recently enough to leave fingerprints in the metadata. It wasn’t a report so much as a junction, a list of case identifiers and protocol references that pointed outward without explaining themselves. No summaries, no conclusions, just enigmatic connective tissue. It had an attachment but I couldn’t open it, not with my current tools, but I didn’t need to. Its presence alone was enough to warrant concern.

  No one would be surprised to learn about corruption and cover-ups behind a multi-trillion dollar mega corporation but still something hit me as odd. I decided to make a copy of the erroneous files, careful to cover my tracks. I considered deleting the strangely encrypted file but decided against it as it might alert Vera to my digging if she knew it was there. I wanted to take it back to the Nest and really dig into it, but Saint emerged from the medical bay before I could will myself to bail. His arms were wet from washing up, and he sighed heavily as he dried them on a towel before looking at me.

  “Amara,” he started. “We need to talk.”

  My stomach tightened. I nodded and pushed myself off the couch, slipping the data stick back into my boot as he turned and headed down the short hall toward his office. The door slid shut behind us, sealing out the hum of machines and distant voices. His space was small and utilitarian. A desk, a couple of chairs, shelves packed with medical texts and obsolete hardware he refused to throw away. He produced two glasses, dropped in some ice, and grabbed a half-empty bottle of unlabeled whiskey from his desk as we sat down opposite each other.

  “She’s stable,” he started, sliding a glass to me. “For now. I had to give her far more blood than I’m comfortable with, and we’re not done observing her yet.”

  “She was so pale when I found her…” I blurted, not knowing what to say.

  “Five more minutes and we’d be having a different conversation.”

  The words landed heavy. I swallowed and looked away.

  “I’m supposed to ask you what happened, but I want you to listen first.” He said, raising a hand to stop me from interjecting.

  “She lost a significant amount of blood, more than what you’d see from a simple assault. Far more than most accidents, and there’s no trace of it on her body or clothes, or in the club from what you told me earlier. I’ve reviewed what I can, and it just doesn’t add up.”

  My jaw tightened. “You think I did this?”

  “No.” He said immediately, a little sharper than necessary. He exhaled and softened his tone. “I know what your implants do, the fangs, how they work. I installed them. They don’t cause this… don’t drain blood. They’re designed to inject, not extract.”

  “Then… what are you saying?” I asked.

  “I’m saying I don’t know,” he replied quietly. “And that bothers me more than if I did.”

  We each downed our drinks, and he poured another. I hoped he didn’t notice my hands shaking before I tucked them into my lap.

  “There are, however, two punctures in her neck. Clean, paired. No tearing, no surrounding trauma, no signs of extraction equipment. Still… she was nearly empty. That shouldn’t be possible.”

  He didn’t want to ask the questions. I bit my lip in frustration, I didn’t have the answers. Silence stretched between us.

  “Vera called not long after you arrived.” He added, not meeting my eyes. “She’s issued orders. Kaela is not to be seen by anyone until Vera speaks with her. You are not to leave the building.”

  My pulse spiked. “Am I being detained?”

  “No,” he said carefully. “Not officially. She’s just making sure OmniCore has bases covered.”

  I sighed. “She’s already seen things then, hasn’t she?”

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  Kade didn’t answer directly. Instead he leaned back in his chair and studied me the way he used to when we first started working together, when he wasn’t sure how much of the truth I could handle.

  “What I need to know,” he said slowly, “is whether there’s something I need to… reword in my report.”

  I flicked my lip ring, he was trying to protect me.

  “I didn’t do this, Derrin. I didn’t hurt her. I swear.”

  “I believe you.” He said without hesitation.

  “I was off the books, side gig that happened to overlap with our mission. Everything went smooth, I thought. Kaela was just there to run distraction while I extracted the asset. The gig was by the books and clean! I found her on the way out, I was in the bathroom to change out of my disguise and she was laying in the floor. Whatever happened, happened during our radio silence. I don’t understand what went wrong…”

  “Okay.” He downed his drink again and tapped at his terminal a few times before locking eyes with me again.

  “My report will reflect what I can prove,” he said. “Severe blood loss, unknown mechanism. No evidence tying the injury to your known mods. No definitive cause.”

  I searched his face. “That’s the best you can do?”

  “That’s me drawing a line.” He sighed. “Vera won’t like it, but she can’t burn you on uncertainty. We’ll do a scan, show that your implants are on the up and up, best we can do for now.”

  A beat passed, I just nodded in silence and finished my drink. Kade put the bottle way and stood up.

  “Whatever happened, whatever did this to her? It’s not something Omni has a box for. We both know they don’t like anything they can’t tag and bag during cleanup, and they have a history of producing answers when needed.”

  I stood up with him and then paused.

  “Can… Can I see her?” I asked.

  “Not yet, Vera’s on the way.” He said. “And when you do? Be careful what you say. She’s confused, hurt. She thinks she knows what happened.”

  That twisted like a knife deep in my chest.

  He reached for the door and then glanced over to me. “Amara… once you’re clear of this, finish this damned mission. Before it kills you.”

  I nodded solemnly and stepped past him into the main bay once more.

  ————————————————————————————————————

  I again sat alone on the old leather couch in Saint’s lab. Vera had arrived not long after my talk with Kade, and he took her in to see Kaela straight away. They’d been gone almost an hour and my anxiety was through the roof. Before I could stew in it any longer, I heard the door open and the signature click of Vera’s heels against the floor. I glanced past her, looking into the room. Kaela was propped up in a medical bed, hooked up to several tubes and machines. We locked eyes for a moment and I was awash with shame. Her tear soaked face turned away quickly to hide the fear in her eyes as the door shut. Vera moved towards me with controlled purpose, tapping away at her tablet without making eye contact.

  “Walk with me.” Vera ordered, not looking up.

  I sighed and followed her, ready to be done with this conversation before it even started. We trailed through the lab, across the pavilion, and into the main building in complete silence. It wasn’t until we reached the elevator that she spoke.

  “You’ve created a paperwork nightmare. Let’s see if you can also solve it.”

  “Need me to fill out your forms for you?”

  “Hardly, they need to remain legible.”

  We stepped into the elevator when it opened, and I leaned against the far wall while Vera hit the button for her floor. The lift lurched upward, and then suddenly the lights flickered and we stopped. Vera closed her tablet, letting it hang at her side and looked at me directly, calm and focused. This was intentional, and I needed to be on my guard. I exhaled sharply, waiting for her to speak.

  “Let’s align,” she said. “I don’t like surprises, and tonight has been… inefficient.”

  I turned to face her and braced my palms on the railing.

  “Asset Draven.” She continued. “Severe blood loss, paired puncture wounds, no clear mechanism usage, no witnesses, and no footage beyond her entering the bathroom alone and you carrying her out in a compromised state.”

  Her gaze flicked across my face and eyes, reading my reaction to her words. I didn’t react.

  “Unacceptable, but manageable. You were operating under recovery authority, not explicit mission sanction, but close enough that I can smooth the edges. The medical report left me enough room to maneuver.”

  She took a step closer, and I felt myself tense.

  “What I need to know,” she said evenly, “is whether or not this incident has compromised you.”

  “No.” I spat.

  “Not emotionally,” she clarified. “Operationally. Was your mission compromised?”

  I met her stare. “The mission remains viable. In fact, I was able to recover the documents for the weapon.”

  She paused and there was a flash of something in her eyes, did she not know what I was doing in the club?

  “Draven believes you were the assailant. She was quite insistent that you seduced her into the stall.” Vera added suddenly, watching me closely.

  “That belief is incorrect.” I said, hiding my feelings. “And, irrelevant to the asset recovery.”

  Vera’s expression never changed, but he posture softened slightly.

  “Correct. People believe a lot of things when they wake up hurt and afraid. Belief isn’t evidence.” She straightened her back and reopened her tablet. “This incident has been categorized as an unrelated third-party assault during post-operation movement. No internal fault assigned, no escalation. No follow-ups beyond medical requirements.”

  I raised an eyebrow as she tapped on the screen.

  “If I choose to bury something,” she added. “It stays buried.”

  “Understood” I replied as the elevator began to move again.

  “Do you?” Vera asked quietly. “This is where operatives get distracted, lose momentum. Chasing ghosts as it were.”

  I just nodded. I was more than ready to go right back to the club and tear it apart looking for clues, but that wouldn’t help anyone. Worse it could complicate things here and now, and the situation was already fucked up enough. Besides, I wasn’t going to give Vera the satisfaction of letting this do me in.

  She held out her hand, expectantly.

  “The data.”

  I didn’t hesitate, knowing I had already made copies of what I wanted more time with. I produced the stick from my boot and placed it in her waiting palm. She pocketed it without even glancing over it. She studied me for a long moment before the door opened to her floor.

  “The mission continues.” She spoke moving to block me from exiting. “You will complete it. You will not chase shadows, do not attempt to play hero and hunt the unknown.”

  Her gaze hardened, and I met it with my usual controlled rage and distaste for her.

  “And you will remember that I am the sole reason this ends cleanly instead of with your name attached to a very strange and unusual question.”

  She began to move down the hallway and then turned back to face me once more.

  “Get your head in the game, Nyx.” She smirked. “You’re most valuable as a weapon.”

  She turned back towards her office, leaving me fuming in the elevator. I just watched her as the door began to close again. Just before they did, I caught sight of someone standing inside her office, waiting by the open door.

  Tall. Still. Watching… me. The unmistakably simple and clean gray suit. A hint of light reflected off the metallic name tag: Rep. 709

  My stomach lurched slightly, but the elevator hadn’t yet begun its descent. What the fuck was that thing doing here so late? My head swam and I did my best to shake it off. Once the elevator started moving again, automatically heading back to the lobby since I hadn’t pressed a button, I started breathing again.

  The hum of the machinery grounded me, and my reflection started back at me from the polished metal wall. Calm, composed. NyxVyxN. The mask holding my inner turmoil at bay. Under it, however, everything hurt.

  Kaela’s face wouldn’t leave my mind. The fear. The way she’d turned away. I’d hoped to check on her, make sure she was okay, but I knew I couldn’t face her. I may not have attacked her, but it was my fault she was hurt. I called her in, left her alone, and she’d paid the price and nearly died for it.

  It didn’t make sense, and I didn’t have answers. Vera was right, it would be easy to chase ghosts here. Let it unravel me further as I tried frantically to figure out every detail of what went wrong. I felt my hands trembling again, and clenched them into fists as I exited the elevator.

  I didn’t have answers, but I had options. I always did. I could leave, slip out the door and hop on the maglev back to the Nest. Lock my doors, power everything down, hot shower, let my system reset and my thoughts scatter. Put the whole fucking city at arm’s length and pretend distance was the same as control.

  There was work to be done. Real work. I needed to figure out how to get the weapon back from the Rats now that I’d soured their payday for the documents. Focus. Plan. Execute.

  I walked across the lobby and out the front door into the cold night air. My thoughts wandered to the data I had copied off the stick, and that strange encrypted file. Something was buried there, something OmniCore wouldn’t want me to have. I could dig into that in the meantime, hell anything was better than just sitting here with the mess I’d made.

  Running had often been the cleanest cut. Leave before things got too heavy, too hard to work past. Before the feelings could fully catch. Before anyone could see you bleed. I was on the mag before I even realized it, winding back towards my Nest, hidden away from the city and it’s never ending bullshit.

  Distance first, answers later. Survival in Peachveil City.