July 20 2010

  Sunday 11.30 am

  Piggot was at it again.

  I could already hear her voice in my head as I stared down at the half-assembled power spear on my workbench: “Collin, you need to focus on your duties as a team leader, not just your gadgets. The meeting was yesterday, Colin. Brief your team now.”

  My jaw tightened. The adaptive servo array wasn’t aligning properly; it's probably a hairline variance in the carbon weave, and every time I got close to fixing it, some bureaucratic interruption dragged me away. Meetings. Reports. Babysitting Wards. None of which improved Brockton Bay’s actual security.

  The faint hum of the lab was the only thing keeping me sane, the rhythmic pulse of machines that at least made sense. Until my comm pinged.

  [Incoming Call: Dragon]

  Of course, she called.

  I sighed, tapped the comms link. “Dragon, you’re early. I was just about to run a diagnostic.”

  Her voice came through warm, teasing, with that faint synthetic undertone she never quite managed to hide. “That’s the third time you’ve said that this week, Collin. Deflecting again?”

  I set the microdriver down and leaned back. “Deflecting implies guilt. I’m just working.”

  “Working?” she repeated. “Or ignoring Piggot’s orders?”

  “She’s cutting into my tinkering time, Dragon. Every other hour it’s ‘mentor the Wards,’ ‘file a field report.’”

  Dragon chuckled softly. “Isn’t that your job description?”

  “My job,” I corrected, “is optimising Protectorate combat readiness. It’s just..wrangling hormonal parahumans or dealing with them isnt something I’m good at” He really wasn't good with people. If he could just focus on tinkering in his lab, that would be the peak performance ratio for every productive day.

  I could almost feel her smiling through the line. “You mean the new one?”

  That made me pause. I brought up the holographic projection over my desk, the satellite photo of the Trainyard, with the new burgeoning structure being built, its massive size, the size of four football fields, that had appeared suddenly overnight.

  The readings still bothered me: nonstandard alloy signatures, electromagnetic noise patterns far beyond conventional tech, and an architecture that didn’t match any known Tinker style, and they built it fast.

  “‘Dreamhack,’” I repeated. “That’s what people are calling him. Probably a Tinker or Thinker. It is about to build an entire complex out of nowhere. Piggot wants a full threat classification, but we don’t even have a clear visual. This is also another reason Thomas and Renick requested Pigot not to spread the information to the rest just yet, until now, since they shot down our drones from early morning.”

  “She wants you to brief the Wards about it?”

  “Exactly as it stated, we didn't know the full depth of what this person is capable, as if I have time to play teacher when I’m still reverse-engineering whatever that base is made of.”

  “Shadow Stalker was the one who encountered him first, right?”

  I glanced at another screen, the freeze-frame from her bodycam: a flash, an EMP signature, and the shot that tore through a steel dumpster like tissue paper.

  “Yes. She fired first, predictably. He responded with something Gauss-based, but the power output was… beyond what we can replicate. He could’ve killed her.”

  “But didn’t,” Dragon said gently.

  “Why create something so devastatingly powerful and not start small. His tech specialisation is confusing as powers go.” I exhaled. “Piggot thinks he’s a destabilising variable, and I might have to agree. I think he’s a sign that our intelligence net is slipping.”

  A long pause followed. Then Dragon’s voice softened. “You sound… impressed.”

  “I’m curious,” I corrected. “Anyone who can deploy an automated fortress and lie this low for long has a lot of patience. The aftertech he’s showing isn’t improvising. That’s planned engineering. Intentional, not to mention the resources needed, He might not be alone in this..”

  “You envy him.”

  That earned her a look he didn't want to show her, the kind she’d be grateful she couldn’t see. “…I respect the craftsmanship.” That he’s envious of another tinker’s genius. That he couldn’t amount to her despite how hard he tried, and then someone out of the blue like him comes along.

  She laughed quietly, the sound like static wrapped in silk. “You always do.”

  I turned back to the workbench, picked up the spear shaft again. “Piggot wants a progress report by noon. If I don’t write it, she’ll make me give a presentation on it.’”

  “You should try to talk to them, get to know the kids..”

  I groaned. “If I have to sit through another conversation with them, I'd rather not work here at all. I’ll request a transfer to Boston.”

  “You’d last a week,” Dragon said lightly. “Then you’d start missing your lab. You won't be able to stave off the boredom. It will be several weeks before they get you a lab of your own if you transfer to Boston.”

  She wasn’t wrong. I’d rather deal with Piggot’s temper than spend one day away from my tools.

  Still, her last words lingered: You envy him.

  I looked back at the holoimage of the soon-to-be fortress at the Trainyard, angular and alive with energy signatures we didn’t understand. Whoever Dreamhack was, he’d built something revolutionary under our noses.

  And if I were honest with myself, I did envy him.

  Piggot wanted to classify him as a potential threat. But all I wanted to talk to him about was his engineering and to pick his brain. It would be good if he would join us.

  Same objective, different reasons.

  “Just talk to them, I have to go, the guild needs me”, and there she goes. Busy and off to save the world, while I'm still stuck here in my lab, on my way to brief them. No time like the present. After I finished recalibrating the capacitor array on my suit. No time for a test run.

  No time for anything, apparently. Time to brief the rest of the team about Shadow Stalker and Dreamhack.

  …………

  By the time I got to the conference room, the others were already there with Dauntless leaning back in his chair, tapping a stylus against his notepad; Assault lounging like he was at a bar instead of a Protectorate briefing; Battery standing next to him, arms crossed, the picture of patience and quiet irritation.

  Velocity was pacing, vibrating faintly, his footfalls like rapid rain and the rest of the Wards sat clustered near the end of the table, Triumph, Gallant, Aegis, Vista, Kid Win, and Clockblocker all at varying levels of attentiveness.

  Miss Militia came in last and gave him a nod “Morning, Armmaster” He nodded back, giving her a brief look since she too got the same briefing as well.

  I set my helmet on the table and activated the projector. The lights dimmed, and the holo-display flickered to life, showing a satellite photo of the Brockton Bay trainyard and the enormous, alien-looking structure that hadn’t been there a week ago.

  Clockblocker spotted me first. “Boss man! So, who’s the new cape this time? Please tell me it’s not another guy who builds killer robots.”

  “Not this time,” I said. “It’s a potential recruit.”

  Kid Win perked up. “A new Ward?”

  “Yes.” I pulled up a file on the screen, a grainy image of a girl in black and grey, crossbow in hand, mask half-shadowed. The alias burned white across the display.

  SHADOW STALKER.

  There were murmurs instantly.

  “Wait,” said Aegis. “Her? The vigilante? Didn’t we review her a few months back?”

  “The one who tied that Merchant up on a lamp post last week?” Vista added, eyes wide.

  “The same,” I confirmed. “This is Shadow Stalker, who operates independently, primarily in the Docks and Boardwalk area. Currently responsible for six incapacitated gang members and possibly more that went unreported.”

  “‘Incapacitated,’ huh?” Clockblocker muttered. “That’s a polite way of saying ‘punctured.’”

  “She doesn’t play well with others,” Dauntless said quietly.

  “No,” I agreed. “But that’s precisely why the Director wants her in the program. Under supervision.”

  Battery frowned. “Supervision, or containment?”

  “Both,” I said simply. “Her methods are reckless, and she’s escalating; she’s walking a fine line between hero and criminal. But she’s talented, effective, and she’s kept several areas gang-free for weeks at a time. Pigot thinks she can use that.”

  Aegis leaned forward. “You really think she’ll agree to join us? Didn't she already reject us... thrice? What changed?”

  “She doesn’t have a choice,” I said. “Either she joins the Wards, or she faces criminal charges for assault, vigilantism, and endangering civilians. The choice is optics.”

  There was a brief silence as they talked among themselves. The Senior PRT agents dont seem to mind the junior wards talking in a meeting.

  Assault, predictably, broke it. “So… we’re strong-arming a teenage sociopath into joining a team of teenage superheroes. What could possibly go wrong?”

  Battery shot him a glare.

  Clockblocker snorted. “At least we’ll have someone who’s not afraid to hit below the belt.”

  Vista frowned. “She scares people and puts crossbolts up their ass. Not just the gangs, you dumbass, Regular people too. You sure that’s who we want representing the Wards? She doesn't seem like a great fit, even if I want more girls to join in.”

  Miss Militia frowned and shushed Vista, “ Language, Vista.”

  Vista frowned after being scolded, “Sorry”

  “Public perception is malleable,” I said, keeping my tone even. “Shadow Stalker’s seen as an avenger. People are angry at the gangs, at the ABB, at the PRT for not doing enough. They want someone who fights dirty on their behalf. We can use that image, guide it.”

  Dauntless spoke again, voice low but steady. “And if she doesn’t want to be guided?”

  I looked at him. “Then we make sure she doesn’t get the chance to run off the rails.”

  Assault leaned back, smirking faintly. “So… she’s either our problem or your problem.”

  “Wait..what?” I said.

  Assault grinned and gave me a wink “Nothing, boss man”

  The projection behind me flickered with the picture of Shadow Stalker’s silhouette, frozen mid-leap across a rooftop. She looked untouchable. Fearless and Dangerous.

  And I knew this wasn’t going to be like training another eager recruit or mentoring a bright-eyed rookie like Kid Win. This girl wasn't joining because she wanted to be a hero. She was joining because she’d run out of ways not to.

  And somehow, it was my job to make sure that didn’t blow up in our faces if she joined us. Assault leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head, grinning like a kid about to start trouble.

  “So… our potential new girl’s got a thing for ambushing thugs in alleys and shooting them full of pointy projectiles? Sounds like my kind of Friday night.”

  Battery sighed and swatted him on the arm. “Assault, please. Not every ‘bad girl with a weapon’ is a potential date.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say date. I said Friday night. Besides, she's a little young for a date with me, isn’t she?”

  That earned a laugh from Kid Win, who was already scrolling through Shadow Stalker’s public sightings on his tablet. “Guys, I found footage of her tackling some Empire goon off a fire escape. Midair. No powers used, just… pure aggression. She’s insane.”

  “That's…not bad,” Aegis corrected, ever the voice of calm. “And she saved two civilians doing it. That’s something.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Alright, there’s another parahuman on the agenda. Turn your focus to the new slides,” I began, my voice echoing slightly in the chamber as I changed into the new slides to present the real meat of the discussion today.

  “This is the main Agenda. We’re here to discuss the new parahuman operating under the alias Dreamhack. You may have seen the chatter on PHO and the ‘construct’ that appeared out of nowhere? This is it. It's some sort of fortress of unknown Origin being built with Tinkertech.”

  Assault whistled. “That thing looks like a Tinker wet dream, are those Mechs? How in the world did he get three of those?”

  Battery elbowed him lightly. “Be Professional..”

  I ignored them both. “The structure appeared sometime between July 16th and 17th. Thermal readings indicate heavy industrial activity consistent with automated construction or mass fabrication. Based on multiple eyewitness accounts and electromagnetic scans, we’re classifying this as Tinker-level activity at the minimum Tinker-6 potential, possibly higher because we still dont know what sort of upper ceiling he can achieve..”

  Vista raised a hand, frowning. “Wait, that’s huge. You’re saying one guy built that overnight?”

  “There is a possibility that this is a group effort and he is part of an organisation,” I said flatly. “Or something close to it, and if it isnt? That Tinker rating will be raised higher, although we suspected it might not be the case.”

  Dauntless leaned forward, his tone thoughtful. “How so? What makes the PRT think he’s not working alone?”

  “None so far,” I said. “Our intel division’s scrubbed local chatter. He’s operated solo no recorded crimes, no public statements, and no confirmed ID. We only know he intervened in a mall incident three days ago, neutralising an ABB-affiliated gang with minimal casualties. That puts him in the grey zone, neither villain nor recognised hero.”

  Clockblocker snorted. “So, a vigilante with a fortress. Great. Because that always ends well.”

  I switched the slide. “These are the energy readings from his confrontation with Shadow Stalker two nights ago. That’s what our think tank surmises when he’s not working alone. A Gauss rifle. Pretty high tech too and far into the technology power rating at Blaster 6 perhaps..”

  Showing the aftermath of the Gauss discharge and a Dumpster with an 8mm hole and metal slag as if it's burnt, penetrated so thoroughly that the wall behind crumbled and left more debris blasted within the line of sight of the bullet.

  Kid Win leaned forward, fascinated. “Whoa. That’s… that’s Gauss discharge, isn’t it? But those EMP spikes are not normal! What's with the Dumpster?! It penetrated it and the walls behind it too?!”

  “Correct,” I said. “He used a Gauss-type weapon, something comparable to a railgun, but compact enough for infantry use. The projectile tore through a steel dumpster, concrete, and left residual electromagnetic interference. Based on impact analysis, it could disable powered armour and parahuman tech systems with a single shot. A venerated Tank Buster”

  Gallant frowned. “So lethal force? That's very dangerous, sir. Is he really not a villain?”

  I hesitated. “Potentially. But he didn’t kill her. Which tells us he’s controlled, or at least has a code.”

  Piggot’s voice played in my head ‘He’s a variable. Control the variable.’

  Dauntless broke the silence. “You’re thinking recruitment?”

  “Observation first,” I said. “If he’s a Tinker, that fortress represents a massive technological leap that we can’t ignore. But until we know his motives, he’s a potential threat. We’ll maintain a Class Yellow status: avoid direct engagement, monitor movements, and establish communication channels if possible.”

  Velocity slowed down enough to chime in. “What about ABB or Empire retaliation? They’re gonna notice a thing like that sitting in their backyard.”

  “They already have,” I said grimly. “ABB scouts were spotted near the perimeter two evenings ago. The same night, our sensors picked up automated defence fire. Turret systems with heavy calibre weaponry were spotted when our drones scouted ahead. They didn’t survive the encounter when we came closer. Those mechs even scavenge almost anything. We shouldn't enter the premises of a Tinker Base.”

  That drew silence. Even Assault stopped smirking.

  I turned back to the projection, the angular steel spires of the structure gleaming under the moonlight. “Whoever Dreamhack is, he’s not an Improvising Tinkerer. He’s methodical, he’s strategic, and he has the resources of an entire organisation at his back.”

  I looked over the Wards, the young faces, half eager, half uncertain at the sudden appearance of a new cape in their home.“If any of you encounter him,” I said, tone hardening, “you do not engage. Observe, retreat, and report. We don’t know his power’s range, his temperament, or his endgame.”

  Battery glanced at me. “And if he’s friendly?”

  “Then we talk,” I said simply. “Preferably before Piggot decides to drop a strike team on his doorstep.”

  Assault raised an eyebrow. “And what do you think, Armsmaster? Friend or foe?”

  I looked back at the hologram, the design lines, the perfect balance between function and elegance, the unmistakable brilliance behind it.

  “…Engineer,” I said at last. “Someone who builds for purpose. Does that purpose help or hurt the city? We dont know. That’s for us to find out. What will we find out? That’s up to us as well, hopefully someone reasonable.”

  The room was quiet after that.

  Dauntless was the first to speak once I finished my rundown. He leaned forward, arms on the table, with that ever-present air of quiet confidence surrounding him.

  “So,” he said, “we’re supposed to just watch a guy who built that overnight and hope he’s friendly?”

  “Correct,” I replied evenly. “Engagement without authorisation would be a tactical error.”

  Assault grinned. “Translation: don’t poke the guy with the giant Turrets and a potential fortress.”

  Battery sighed. “Assault.”

  “What? I’m just making sure everyone’s clear on the don’t get vaporised part.”

  There was a ripple of laughter from the Wards’ side of the table. Clockblocker leaned back in his chair, hands laced behind his head. “You’re really underselling it. ‘fortress’ makes it sound small. That thing looks like it could turn the Rig into scrap if it sneezed. I wonder what it will look like when it's finished. A five-star hotel? Maybe even a jacuzzi”

  “Maybe it already has all THAT and a kickass tinker lab too, Oh wow, a giant research centre with all the stuff you can tinker with! a-and-” Kid Win muttered, eyes still fixed on the holo-projection. “Look at those heat signatures, the structure’s running a power core big enough to rival a nuclear reactor. If it’s self-sustaining…and those mechs with those plasma welders a-and look at those Turrets! They are huge! Who built autoturrets like those! The PRT could use those for Anti-Endbringer in every city a-and-”

  “Kid Win,” I said, cutting him off before his enthusiasm spiralled. “Speculation is fine. But keep it grounded.”

  “Right. Grounded. Got it, sorry…I mean, it's really cool,” he said sheepishly.

  Gallant raised a hand. “Do we know if he’s working alone? Maybe he’s got a team. Something like a small army of robots or drones. Could he be working with Toybox? Has anyone combed for anything online?”

  I nodded. “Possibly, but PHO isnt verified information, and so far, there seems to be nothing. This DreamHack didn't have a digital signature. I had Dragon look into it and find nothing. The man is a ghost on the internet. The footage we recovered shows multiple automated labour units functionally identical to construction drones. They’re coordinated, efficient, and display high-level autonomy. Whether they’re AI-driven or remotely controlled, we can’t tell yet.”

  Vista frowned. “So if he wanted to, he could basically build an army of mechs overnight? What?! H-how is that.. that's so bullshit. How are we supposed to beat that?!”

  Miss Militia frowned and said, “Language, girl”

  Vista frowned again. For some reason, she’s visibly upset “Sorry”

  “In theory,” I said. “Which is why we’re treating this with caution. We won't be beating anyone, like I said earlier. Do not engage.”

  Clockblocker whistled low. “Do not engage, huh? I thought we were up against someone like the Chubster…Man, and I thought my power caused headaches. Imagine trying to detain someone who can print giant mechs in their backyard and create multiple structures like that…what are those tinier bunkers? Some sort of house?”

  I look towards the smaller high-tech homes, “seems to be where these mechs store the metal it collects all around the Trainyard,” I said while I wondered if that's all it does. Until he can have a closer look, he can only speculate. Digital images from Dragon's satellite couldn’t show much of the inside from this angle, and any drones he sent there were shot down immediately.

  “Imagine trying to feed something that could build Mechs in their backyard,” Assault quipped. “Guy’s probably got a Home Depot bigger than City Hall. Can't believe we never even heard of this guy here in Brockton Bay..wait a minute. Wasn't there another tinker at the trainyard? This isnt him, is he?”

  Battery elbowed him again, harder this time. “You’re not helping.”

  “I’m building up to it! Come on!” he protested. “That’s important too!”

  I ignored the exchange, moving on. “We have reason to believe that Tinker, who resides in the Trainyard, has left Brockton Bay since there haven't been any sightings since last month's attacks and…the Modus is different. If Dreamhack maintains this level of construction capability, its resource acquisition will be critical to monitor. He’s likely using scrap metal, industrial refuse, or stolen materials. Velocity, you’ll coordinate with PRT logistics to track any unusual shipments of raw metals or missing industrial parts.”

  Velocity nodded, already making a note. “Got it. I’ll have something by the end of the week.”

  Aegis raised his hand next. “Sir, what’s our response plan if he turns hostile? If he’s got turret systems like you said…”

  “Containment first,” I said. “If he shows aggression toward civilians or law enforcement, we isolate the area and call for reinforcements from the Protectorate main branch. Under no circumstances do the Wards engage him directly.”

  Clockblocker raised a finger. “What about indirect engagement? Like, say, sending Vista to fold space and me to…”

  “No,” I said flatly.

  He dropped his hand. “Right. No fun allowed.”

  Gallant gave him a look. “This isn’t one of your pranks, Clock. Someone could die from this.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said, smirking. “Still, I’m calling it now, aight? The guy’s definitely building a bigger mech once that giant structure is done. You can’t tell me someone with a base that big doesn’t want to stomp around in a twenty-foot robot suit.”

  Dauntless chuckled under his breath. “Heh, don’t give him ideas.”

  Assault pointed his stylus like a microphone. “Too late, you laugh! You know that thing’s on his to-do list somewhere. A construction mech..stompy stompy mech..next it'll be super endbringer mechs. Damn it…I’d love to see one come true!”

  I crossed my arms, staring at the holo-image again. “If Dreamhack is a Tinker, his projects follow a logic pattern. He’s building infrastructure. And those mechs seem to help him build better structures.”

  Battery tilted her head. “And turrets aren't structures?”

  “It’s a progression,” I said quietly. “Factories, turrets, then those factories make units. Defence systems. Then, expansion. If he keeps scaling up at this rate, Brockton Bay will have a potential nation-state cape, but we doubt that’s the case. There isnt a cape like that since…Dragon.”

  The room fell silent again.

  Clockblocker broke it after a moment, with that same irrepressible humour he always used to mask nerves. “So… when do we start calling him Emperor Dreamhack? All hail the new ruler of Brockton Bay? Our new Mayor or El-Presidente?”

  “Not helping Cockblock, dont be Assault please. One Assault is enough,” Battery muttered.

  “I’m serious!” Clockblocker said. “We could put it on a t-shirt before the Merchants do. Get ahead of the trend.”

  Assault chuckled. “Kid’s got a point. He should probably trademark it. Make a tinkering fund. Tinkering sure is expensive.”

  Dauntless sighed, rubbing his temples.”Seriously, you guys…”

  “Lighten up, Shawn. Even our boss here needs a tinkering fund, except now he’s sharing it with the new Kid, oof, that's gotta hurt,” Assault said so before Battery loses her cool and smacks him in the head

  “Ack! Hey!’ scratching the back of his head.

  Battery was fuming and glaring at him as if daring him to try that again, “Shut up, or do you want another smack in the head?”

  Assault turned meek like a mouse, “yes ma'am”

  Kid Win was decidedly panicking at hearing that watching the two engaged in an altercation like that. I pinched the bridge of my nose too, already regretting this unofficial Q&A.and meeting “Focus,” I said finally. “We’ll continue surveillance and keep contact attempts strictly remote. Dreamhack hasn’t shown hostility, that’s the only reason this isn’t an active operation yet.”

  I looked around the room, making eye contact with each of them, the veterans, the rookies, the restless young heroes who still thought powers made them invincible.

  “This isn’t just another gang player,” I said quietly. “This is a potential ally. Treat it with the respect it deserves. If that’s all, this meeting is dismissed.”

  Miss Militia nodded and smiled, “I'll report to the Director for you, you did well today.” I'm grateful for my colleague. It's days like these that I'm a little bit thankful that I was here in Brockton Bay. She really knows how to remove my burdens.

  “Thank you, Hannah”, I gave her a brief thank, and she walked away knowingly. That was stressful. Hopefully, I won't need to talk to anyone in a few more days.

  The Wards nodded. Even Clockblocker, for once, was serious. They all left with something to mull over.

  As the meeting dispersed, I stayed behind, watching the image of the upcoming structure flicker on the screen, cold steel under morning light. Time to get back to the lab and improve my Arclance.

  Assault’s jokes aside, he was right about one thing. Dreamhack wasn’t just another cape. He was building something bigger, and if we didn’t understand what that was soon, Brockton Bay was going to wake up to a new paradigm shift.

  Something even he’s not sure if this will be a good thing or not.

  Though I had the day for myself finally, so I tinkered away under fugue, not a single stray thought in my head. It was comforting.

  The soft hum of the cooling vents filled my lab with a low, rhythmic sound that told me everything was still working around here as I worked on my lance. Things were still under control. The halberd’s actuator joint glowed under the welding lamps as I adjusted the microforge settings by hand. My armour’s servos were open on the bench beside it, diagnostic panels half-dismantled. I’d been optimising the torque-to-weight ratios for the new power coupling all night.

  Then the door chime cut through the quiet. Someone had overridden the access lock. It was three in the goddamn morning already. Time really does fly when nobody disturbs you, till now.

  Then the door chime cut through the quiet. Someone had overridden the access lock.I didn’t even need to turn around. Only one person would barge into my workshop at this hour. One can admire her dedication to the job despite being the Director herself.

  "Yes, ma'am, how can I help you?" I asked while my inner self is screaming annoyance at being interrupted at 3 am in the morning. What is it now?

  “Armsmaster.” Piggot’s voice. Flat. Irritated. Exhausted. “We’ve got a problem.”

  I sighed, lowering my tools and lifting my visor. “Director. It’s three a.m.”

  “Believe me, I know,” she said. Her tone carried that edge only reserved when things are deadly serious. It’s the one that usually meant paperwork and disaster in equal measure. Is this about the paperwork he forgot to file after the meeting? I was hoping Hannah would have done that for me already.

  “Thirty ABB members were brought into Brockton General. All unconscious. Catatonic. No fatalities.”

  That got my attention. “Catatonic? Cause?”

  “Chemical exposure. Possibly gas-based. Police think it was a new parahuman attack. New ones kept popping up at the Bay,” she sighed. First DreamHack, now this?

  I turned to my terminal, fingers already keying in the local surveillance feeds. “Timing?”

  “An hour ago. East Dock district, near their old contraband depot.”

  I pulled up the satellite overlay with the timestamped footage of the alley, the still frame of a boarded-up warehouse, the ambulance lights painting everything red. No scorch marks. No signs of detonation. Just people on the ground.

  “No explosive signatures,” I muttered. “Dispersal pattern suggests aerosolised compound. Controlled release, directed spread, likely low-velocity compression delivery.”

  Piggot frowned. “In English.”

  “Whoever did this,” I said, eyes narrowing, “used gas, not a bomb. The spread’s too even. They probably used a containment canister or a customised pressure rig. It incapacitated everyone but didn’t kill anyone.”

  Piggot folded her arms. “So not any known Tinker we’re familiar with??”

  I shook my head. “No, this is something else. More... surgical.”

  She exhaled heavily. “Wonderful. Another Tinker.”

  I didn’t say it, but I thought it. Yes, probably a Tinker. A careful one.

  Piggot continued, “Our agents found the ABB’s safehouse looted. Whoever hit them stole thirty thousand in cash and gold bars. The rest of the contraband was untouched.”

  “That’s deliberate,” I said. “Cash and gold only? So it's high-value, low-trace. No interest in weapons or drugs. Not random.”

  She gave me a long look. “Someone with discipline. You think it’s a Thinker too?”

  I nodded. “Or at least someone with access to advanced equipment. The gas composition looks homemade but sophisticated. My gut says it’s a thinker-tinker hybrid.”

  “Fantastic,” Piggot said dryly. “One more wildcard on the board. I want you on it. Get me a readout, a prototype trace, anything before the gangs start shooting each other over this. It's 3 am, so I doubt anyone is working on this. Convene in the morning, and we can have another meeting with the leaders.”

  “Understood,” I said.

  She turned to leave, muttering something about her ulcer and early retirement. The door sealed behind her with a hiss, and the lab fell back into its usual quiet.

  I stood there a moment, staring at the paused surveillance frame. Thirty ABB men, all sprawled out like dominoes. No signs of violence. No blood...a Stranger too?

  Sigh...

  This is gonna be a long day.