## Chapter 1 — “You’re Kidding.” The safehouse had finally relearned how to exist normally. Which was exactly when Night City decided to interrupt it again. Rain drifted softly against the windows while Reyes occupied the kitchen counter eating noodles directly from the container with the emotional energy of someone who had personally declared war on utensils years ago. Shammy sat sideways on the couch wrapped in blankets despite loudly insisting she no longer needed blankets. Lena ignored those complaints with professional contempt. Mai worked through contract cleanup reports while Ace lay stretched across the floor near the coffee table staring upward at absolutely nothing. Not asleep. Just temporarily horizontal. The atmosphere felt… balanced again. Then Mai’s holo chimed. Everyone immediately looked at her. Trauma conditioning. Mai opened the message silently. Read once. Then slowly lowered the display. “…no.” Reyes pointed immediately. “That tone means either catastrophic violence or taxes.” Mai continued staring at the holo. Then: “I genuinely cannot tell whether this is an insult.” Ace finally looked up from the floor. “What.” Mai rotated the screen outward. Small-time fixer. Mid-tier reputation. Mostly clean work. Discreet logistics specialist. The contract itself looked harmless enough at first glance. Escort assignment. High-value exchange. Neutral-zone enforcement. Excellent pay. Then the conditions list started. Ace sat upright halfway through reading it. “No.” Reyes immediately grabbed the holo. “Oh this is incredible.” Shammy leaned sideways carefully to see the screen while Lena watched her movement like a hawk tracking prey. The conditions continued: > ALL PARTICIPANTS WILL ENTER DISARMED > NO ACTIVE WEAPONS SYSTEMS > NO VISIBLE COMBAT CHROME DEPLOYMENT > NO THREAT POSTURING > NO TERRITORIAL CLAIMING > NO VIOLENCE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES Then the final line: > FAILURE TO MAINTAIN NEUTRALITY WILL RESULT IN FULL CONTRACT VOIDING AND BLACKLIST ENFORCEMENT Silence. Then Reyes completely lost control laughing. Ace looked personally betrayed by reality itself. “No visible weapons,” Reyes wheezed. “Ace, they’re asking you to become a civilian.” “I refuse.” “That’s fair honestly.” Mai rubbed one hand slowly across her forehead. “The pay is absurd.” Ace pointed immediately. “Because it’s psychological warfare.” Shammy started laughing quietly into the couch cushions. Bad sign already. Lena narrowed her eyes instantly. “Careful.” “I’m sitting.” “You’re vibrating.” “Emotionally.” “Still counts.” Reyes wiped tears from one eye. “Oh no no no, keep reading.” Mai regrettably obeyed. Additional attachment opened beneath the contract. Neutrality enforcement rules. Including: mandatory weapons sealing, independent security oversight, live surveillance, and biometric escalation tracking. Ace stared at the holo in growing horror. “They monitor emotional escalation?” “Apparently,” Mai answered calmly. “That feels invasive.” “You kill people with swords.” “Professionally.” Reyes nearly fell off the counter laughing again. --- Ten minutes later the safehouse somehow became even worse. Because Mai accepted the preliminary negotiation call. The fixer appeared via holo projection wearing an aggressively expensive suit and the exhausted eyes of somebody who regularly transported dangerous idiots for a living. “Thank you for taking the meeting.” Ace immediately: “We’re not.” Mai ignored her. “Explain the neutrality restrictions.” The fixer visibly hesitated before answering. “The exchange includes representatives from four independent factions and two corporate intermediaries.” Reyes whistled softly. “Oh this is going to explode.” “That,” the fixer said immediately, “is specifically what we are attempting to avoid.” Fair. Shammy tilted her head slightly. “Why us.” The fixer actually looked embarrassed. Interesting. “Because your group has a reputation for… controlled outcomes.” The entire room went silent. Then Reyes slowly turned toward Ace. “…do you hear that? We’re professionals now.” Ace looked horrified. “This is the worst thing that’s happened all month.” Lena coughed loudly from the couch area. Ace blinked once. “…second worst.” “Correct,” Lena said calmly. The fixer continued before the room derailed further. “Neutral ground security approved your participation on one condition.” Mai already looked tired. “What condition.” Tiny pause. Then: “The short one never touches the swords.” Reyes made a noise usually associated with fatal injuries. Shammy physically folded sideways laughing. Immediately bad idea. “OW—” Lena pointed at her with terrifying speed. “I warned you.” “I regret nothing.” Ace stared at the holo projection in absolute betrayal. “They specifically mentioned me?” “Yes.” “…I hate this city.” “No you don’t,” Reyes said immediately. “You thrive here like some kind of emotionally repressed knife goblin.” Ace pointed at her. “You’re making this worse intentionally.” “Correct.” The fixer cleared his throat carefully. “So… should I confirm participation?” Everyone looked toward Mai automatically. Interesting how that kept happening. Mai glanced around the safehouse slowly. Ace visibly suffering. Reyes delighted by the suffering. Shammy recovering enough to laugh again. Lena already preparing medical threats preemptively. Then she looked back at the fixer. “We accept.” Ace groaned like somebody had announced a terminal diagnosis. Reyes immediately pointed at her again. “No swords means no swords.” “I understand the words.” “Do you though?” Ace looked genuinely tempted to commit violence purely on principle. Which unfortunately made Reyes start laughing all over again. --- # Chapter 2 — Victor’s Conditional Approval Victor Vektor read the contract twice. Then a third time. Then slowly lowered the holo display and stared at the entire Triad with the exhausted expression of a man reconsidering every life decision that led him here. “No.” Shammy immediately pointed at him from the clinic chair. “Counterargument.” “No.” “Strong opening, but lacking nuance.” Victor ignored her completely and zoomed in on the medical movement restrictions again. “No prolonged standing.” “No sudden rotational strain.” “No stress spikes.” “No overextension.” Then he looked directly at Ace. “And absolutely no situations where she decides to throw herself into danger because the short psychopath forgot self-preservation exists.” Ace blinked once slowly. “That feels targeted.” “It is targeted.” Reyes sat sideways on a nearby equipment crate eating clinic vending machine peanuts she absolutely did not pay for. “Honestly this might be the funniest meeting you’ve ever dragged me into.” Mai stood beside the diagnostics table trying very hard to maintain professional structure despite the entire situation already collapsing into absurdity. “The job itself is low-risk.” Victor stared at her. “You people said that before somebody got shot through the back.” Fair. Mai adjusted immediately. “…lower-risk.” “Better.” Shammy folded her arms. “I’m coming.” Victor pointed directly at the spinal scan still floating beside the med table. “That image says otherwise.” “That image lacks ambition.” “That image contains your nervous system.” Ace quietly muttered: “Hard to argue with the nervous system part.” Shammy looked genuinely betrayed. “You too?” “I’m adapting to survival.” Reyes immediately started laughing again. --- The compromise negotiations somehow became worse from there. Victor wanted: - limited movement - zero combat involvement - constant monitoring - extraction priority - pain management compliance Shammy wanted: - basic dignity - movement - sunlight occasionally - to stop being treated like unstable weather equipment Lena wanted: complete authoritarian control apparently. “Wait,” Reyes interrupted suddenly, “why does Lena somehow have the strongest negotiating position here.” “Because Lena listens when I speak,” Victor answered instantly. Lena nodded once proudly. Shammy looked horrified. “You formed an alliance?” “We formed common sense.” “Traitors.” Ace leaned against the clinic wall quietly watching the entire exchange with visible relief she was trying extremely hard not to show. Mai noticed immediately. Of course she did. Interesting. Ace had adapted very badly to Shammy’s absence even over a relatively short period. And now that field participation was even partially back on the table, her baseline posture had already changed slightly. More breathing room. Less compression. Mai filed that away silently. --- Victor finally pointed toward the final contract clause. “One more thing.” Nobody liked that tone. “If neutrality breaks, you leave immediately.” Ace opened her mouth. Victor raised one finger without looking at her. “No.” “…I didn’t say anything yet.” “You were going to.” Fair. Shammy shifted carefully on the examination table. “We understand.” “No, you don’t.” Victor finally looked directly at her now. “You specifically do not understand recovery pacing because your survival instincts are catastrophically altruistic.” Reyes nearly choked on peanuts. “Oh my god he figured out your whole personality.” Shammy narrowed her eyes. “I liked you more when you were bleeding emotionally.” “Yeah well now I’m healing.” “Questionable claim.” Victor sighed deeply. “I’m authorizing this under protest.” Ace immediately: “Accepted.” Victor turned slowly toward her. “…you were waiting for approval like an impatient raccoon.” “I don’t know what that means.” “It means your emotional state concerns me.” “Understandable.” That answer actually made Victor pause. Then: “…okay weirdly enough you do seem slightly healthier now.” Mai almost smiled again. Almost. --- As they prepared to leave, Lena crossed her arms beside the clinic doorway. “One condition.” Everybody looked at her automatically now. Interesting how quickly that happened. Lena pointed directly at Shammy. “If I hear over comms that you are doing anything medically stupid, I’m pulling you out personally.” Shammy blinked once. “…you can’t remotely medically kidnap someone.” Lena’s expression never changed. “Would you like to test that theory.” Long silence. Then Reyes quietly muttered: “…she absolutely could.” Ace nodded immediately. “Yeah.” Mai: “Statistically probable.” Shammy stared around the room in betrayal. “I have lost control of this entire social structure.” “Yes,” Victor answered calmly. “Finally.” That was the moment Reyes completely lost composure again laughing. And unfortunately? Shammy joined her. Which immediately caused pain. Which immediately caused Lena to point threateningly again. Which somehow made everybody laugh harder instead of stopping. Victor watched the entire disaster unfold in exhausted silence. Then finally muttered to himself: “…I should have become a veterinarian.” --- # Chapter 3 — “No Swords Means No Swords.” The neutrality prep briefing somehow felt more humiliating than actual combat planning. Mai stood beside the safehouse holo display calmly reviewing operational restrictions while Ace sat motionless on the couch with the expression of somebody attending their own public execution. Reyes had been enjoying this for approximately forty consecutive minutes. “Reminder,” Mai said professionally, “neutral-ground enforcement scanners will detect active weapon systems immediately.” Ace nodded once very slowly. “No swords.” “Correct.” “No knives.” “Yes.” “No backup blades.” “Yes.” “No emergency blades.” “Yes.” “No hidden blades.” “Yes.” “No ‘technically decorative’ blades.” At that, Mai finally looked up. “…that was directed.” Ace looked offended. “It was one time.” Reyes nearly choked laughing. “It was SIX knives, Ace.” “They were elegant.” “They were hidden in your boots.” “Elegantly.” Shammy physically folded sideways into the couch cushions wheezing laughter immediately before Lena pointed at her from the kitchen. “No.” “I’m literally sitting still.” “You’re shaking the stitches emotionally.” “That’s not medically real.” “It is now.” Ace rubbed both hands down her face slowly. “This job violates my entire operational philosophy.” Reyes pointed instantly. “Your operational philosophy is stabbing.” “Efficient stabbing.” “Still stabbing.” Mai continued the briefing before the room fully dissolved. “Neutrality enforcement personnel will lock all surrendered weapons into external biometric containment.” Ace looked genuinely horrified again. “You’re giving strangers my swords.” “No,” Mai corrected calmly. “You are temporarily allowing controlled custodianship.” “That sentence somehow made it worse.” Fair. --- The weapons prep itself became catastrophic almost immediately. Because Reyes refused to stop commenting. Ace placed one katana carefully into the transport case. Reyes leaned against the wall nearby eating chips she absolutely stole from someone else in the safehouse. “Wow.” Ace closed the case slowly. “…what.” “I’ve just never seen you voluntarily disarm before.” “I’m still armed.” Mai looked up instantly. “Ace.” “What.” “No.” Tiny pause. Then Ace sighed deeply and removed three additional hidden blades from various sections of her clothing. Reyes started physically coughing laughing. “THERE WERE MORE.” “They were contingency tools.” “One was inside your sleeve!” “Correct.” Shammy made a weak dying noise from the couch. Lena immediately pointed again. “You are not allowed to injure yourself laughing at Ace.” “No promises.” Ace looked toward Mai completely deadpan. “I want official recognition that I’m being bullied.” “Denied.” “Corrupt system.” --- Then Mai made the fatal mistake of continuing the security explanation. “Biometric escalation monitors will also flag elevated combat readiness.” Ace blinked once slowly. “…combat readiness is my default emotional state.” “Exactly why I’m concerned.” Reyes physically slid down the wall laughing. “Oh my god this whole job is a hostage situation for Ace specifically.” “It really is,” Shammy admitted quietly. Ace pointed toward Shammy immediately. “You’re supposed to support me.” “I am supporting you.” Tiny smile. “Emotionally.” “Betrayal.” Lena walked through the room carrying medical supplies and glanced once toward Ace. “How many hidden weapons are left.” Ace hesitated. Everybody noticed. The room exploded instantly. “ACE.” “Oh COME ON.” “You absolutely still have knives.” “THIS IS WHY THEY SPECIFICALLY MENTIONED YOU.” Ace finally threw both hands upward dramatically. “Fine.” Two more blades hit the table. Reyes physically stopped breathing laughing. Mai just stared into the middle distance reconsidering reality itself. Shammy buried her face into couch cushions entirely. Lena folded her arms slowly. “…this explains so much.” Ace looked deeply wounded. “I like preparedness.” “You are a small tactical infestation,” Reyes wheezed. --- Thirty minutes later the safehouse somehow looked even worse. Weapon cases sealed. Combat chrome dampeners prepared. Neutrality clothing selected. And Ace sat in the middle of the room radiating the energy of a wolf forced into office attire. Reyes walked past slowly. “No stabbing.” Ace closed her eyes. “I know.” “No threatening.” “I know.” “No terrifying corporate intermediaries.” Ace opened one eye slowly. “No promises.” Fair enough honestly. Mai checked the final contract sync. “All right. One final reminder.” Everyone looked toward her automatically. “If neutrality collapses, we withdraw immediately.” Ace nodded. Shammy nodded. Reyes nodded. Then Lena spoke from the kitchen without looking up: “And if Shammy overextends herself, I’m tranquilizing someone.” Long silence. Then Reyes carefully asked: “…Shammy specifically?” Lena finally looked up. “That depends who enables her.” Every eye in the room slowly turned toward Ace. Ace looked genuinely alarmed for the first time all evening. “…this mission is becoming increasingly oppressive.” --- # Chapter 4 — The Rules of the Room The neutral zone occupied the forty-third floor of a luxury hotel that technically did not exist on most city registries. Which in Night City usually meant: expensive people did illegal things there politely. The elevator ride up felt increasingly cursed with every passing second. Ace stood near the back wall in dark formalwear looking like somebody had dressed a combat knife for a funeral. Reyes kept glancing sideways at her and immediately losing composure again. “I’m serious,” Reyes wheezed quietly. “You look physically offended by the concept of sleeves.” “I am.” Shammy leaned lightly against the elevator rail beside her, movement still careful but far steadier now. “You clean up nicely.” Ace looked at her. “Traitor.” “Professionally supportive traitor.” Lena’s voice immediately crackled through comms: “Reminder: Shammy is still under movement restrictions.” Shammy sighed toward the ceiling. “She can hear breathing somehow.” Mai adjusted one cuff calmly. “She’s correct more often than not.” “That’s not helping.” The elevator chimed softly. Doors opened. And the atmosphere changed instantly. --- The neutral lounge looked less like a meeting site and more like somebody weaponized wealth. Low gold lighting. Dark polished stone. Glass walls overlooking rain-drenched Night City skyline. Private booths hidden behind acoustic partitions. No visible weapons anywhere. Which somehow made the room feel more armed than Afterlife. Security stood near the entrances wearing tailored black suits instead of tactical armor. That was worse too. Professional calm always meant hidden firepower. The nearest security woman scanned the group once as they exited the elevator. Her eyes paused on Ace for approximately half a second longer than everyone else. Interesting. “Welcome,” she said smoothly. “Neutrality protocols begin now.” Ace immediately looked irritated again. Reyes almost burst into laughter on the spot. The security woman extended one hand calmly. “Weapons.” Ace stared at her. Not threateningly. Just existentially disappointed. “You already took the swords downstairs.” “Yes.” “You’re checking again.” “Yes.” Tiny silence. Then Ace slowly removed one final tiny backup blade from somewhere inside her jacket lining and placed it into the tray. The security woman blinked once. Reyes physically bent over laughing. Mai closed her eyes briefly. Shammy made a dangerous little choking sound into her sleeve trying not to laugh too hard. Over comms: “SHAMMY.” Lena somehow sounded louder remotely. “I AM FINE.” “No rapid diaphragm stress.” “That is not a sentence.” “It is now.” The security woman looked down at the tiny blade in visible disbelief. “…was that hidden in the stitching.” Ace folded her arms. “Maybe.” The woman stared silently for two seconds. Then: “…understandable precaution.” Reyes looked personally betrayed. “YOU CAN’T ENCOURAGE HER.” --- Biometric scanners activated as they entered the main lounge. Soft blue light swept harmlessly across the room. Immediately three separate indicators spiked near Ace. The scanner operator frowned. “…combat readiness elevated.” Ace looked annoyed. “It always says that.” The operator checked the readings again. “…it genuinely appears constant.” “See?” Mai stepped in before this became a philosophical debate. “She is complying with neutrality.” The operator glanced between them carefully. Then slowly nodded. “Accepted.” Ace muttered under her breath: “Oppressive surveillance state.” Reyes nearly walked into a decorative pillar laughing. --- The lounge itself contained exactly the kind of people Night City produced when violence became expensive enough to wear designer clothing. Corporate intermediaries. Fixers. Black-market brokers. Private security advisors. Everyone smiling. Nobody relaxed. Conversations moved softly beneath ambient jazz while hidden tension sat over the room like thin wire. And immediately — everyone noticed the Triad. Not openly. Nobody here survived long by openly staring. But attention shifted anyway. Tiny pauses. Delayed drinks. People recalculating. Especially after noticing Shammy walking again. Mai detected the pressure movement instantly. Interesting. Ace noticed too — but instead of sharpening around it like during Ace 78… …she relaxed slightly. Shammy was here. The system breathed correctly again. Small difference. Massive consequences. --- A sharply dressed intermediary approached their table with professional caution. “Your participation is appreciated.” Reyes smiled pleasantly. “That’s a suspicious sentence.” The man wisely ignored her. “The exchange begins shortly. Until then, please enjoy the hospitality of the house.” Ace looked around the room. Then toward Mai. “…what exactly are we supposed to do meanwhile.” Mai answered calmly: “Behave normally.” Ace stared at her for several seconds. “Cruel.” Shammy quietly lost composure again. Immediately over comms: “SHAMMY.” “I DIDN’T EVEN MOVE.” “You laughed.” “Authoritarianism.” “Correct.” The intermediary slowly backed away from the table like somebody realizing too late he’d approached an unusually civilized natural disaster. --- # Chapter 5 — Ace Without Violence The first problem appeared six minutes into the waiting period. Not an assassination attempt. Not corporate sabotage. Not hidden snipers. Worse. Small talk. Ace sat rigidly at the neutral-zone table holding a glass of expensive mineral water like it might explode unexpectedly. Reyes watched this for approximately twelve seconds before completely losing emotional stability again. “Oh my god,” she whispered. “You actually don’t know how to socialize without threat assessment.” “I am socializing.” “You look like you’re preparing to interrogate the water.” Ace stared at the glass. “…it’s suspiciously expensive.” “Everything here is suspiciously expensive.” Fair. Shammy sat beside Ace visibly enjoying the disaster now that she was no longer the center of medical attention for at least five consecutive minutes. Mai remained focused on the room itself, tracking negotiation clusters and movement patterns with quiet precision. Then a waiter approached. And Ace immediately looked like she’d rather fight cyberpsychos barehanded. “Good evening,” the waiter said professionally. “Would your table like refreshments before the exchange begins?” Silence. The poor man waited politely. Ace stared at him like she was trying to identify hidden combat intent. Finally: “…there’s already water.” Reyes physically folded against the table. The waiter blinked once. “Yes, but we also provide—” “She doesn’t understand luxury environments,” Reyes interrupted immediately. “Please continue.” Ace glared at her. The waiter, to his eternal professional credit, continued without visible fear. “We have imported whiskey, private reserve wine, and hot menu service available.” Ace narrowed her eyes slightly. “Why is food called hot menu service.” The waiter hesitated. “…because it’s warm?” Shammy made a dangerous little choking sound trying not to laugh. Immediately over comms: “Careful.” “I HATE THAT YOU CAN HEAR ME.” Lena sounded deeply satisfied somewhere across Night City. “As intended.” --- Ten minutes later Ace somehow became even more uncomfortable. Because people kept recognizing them. Not openly. But enough. A broker near the far lounge paused mid-conversation after noticing Ace. One corporate intermediary visibly changed tables after spotting Shammy. A pair of private security consultants quietly stopped discussing route logistics once Mai walked past them. And every single time this happened, Reyes noticed Ace becoming more annoyed. Finally: “What.” Reyes grinned immediately. “You’re famous.” “I’m feared incorrectly.” “That’s literally fame in Night City.” Unfortunately true. Ace leaned back slightly in the chair. “…this city keeps inventing mythology about us.” Shammy smiled faintly. “The weather netrunner rumor is still my favorite.” “It’s not real.” “Neither is ‘broken animation rig’ but that didn’t stop them.” Ace looked genuinely wounded again. “That one was mean.” Reyes nearly died laughing for the fifth time that evening. --- The second problem appeared when Ace attempted to behave helpfully. A junior intermediary carrying a stack of encrypted case files stumbled slightly near the table after another guest clipped his shoulder. Papers scattered. Small thing. Normal thing. Ace reacted automatically. Which unfortunately meant she moved at full Ace-speed before remembering: neutral zone. The entire room visibly tensed. Security hands shifted subtly toward concealed holsters. Nearby conversations stopped. One broker actually flinched. And Ace… …carefully caught every falling file before they hit the floor. Then stood frozen in the middle of the room holding organized paperwork like a deeply confused assassin librarian. Silence. Absolute silence. Reyes stared for one second. Then completely collapsed laughing into the table hard enough to nearly slide out of the chair. Shammy immediately lost control too. Mai covered her eyes briefly. Even the security personnel looked emotionally compromised. The junior intermediary accepted the recovered files slowly. “…thank you.” Ace still looked offended by existence itself. “I was preventing inefficiency.” “Yes,” Reyes wheezed. “At tactical strike velocity.” One nearby corporate woman quietly whispered to another: “THAT’S the terrifying one?” Ace heard it. And somehow looked even more insulted. --- Meanwhile Mai had accidentally become the most respected person in the room. Because unlike everyone else: she actually understood neutrality culture. Tiny conversational redirects. Subtle pressure balancing. Knowing when not to answer questions fully. Three separate negotiations naturally drifted toward her table without invitation. Reyes noticed immediately. “…oh no.” Ace looked over. “What.” “Mai’s doing diplomacy again.” Mai didn’t even look up from her conversation with a logistics broker. “Someone here has to.” Ace stared toward the surrounding tables. “…they’re listening to her voluntarily.” Shammy smiled faintly beside her. “Scary, isn’t it?” Ace considered this seriously. “…a little.” --- Then the third problem arrived. A heavily augmented corporate liaison stopped near their table and looked directly at Shammy. Specifically at the movement brace partially hidden beneath the oversized dark jacket. Bad choice. “You recovered quickly,” he observed smoothly. Shammy smiled politely. “Trying.” “Mm.” The man’s eyes shifted slightly toward Ace. Then: “I heard the previous situation became… expensive.” The room cooled slightly. Tiny thing. Subtle thing. But everyone nearby noticed. Pressure test. Ace’s posture changed instantly. Reyes saw it immediately and kicked her lightly under the table before things escalated. Ace glared at her. Reyes smiled pleasantly back. No swords. Ace looked moments away from committing emotional homicide anyway. The liaison continued smoothly: “Fortunately this establishment values professionalism.” Mai finally looked up now. And the man instantly realized too late he’d approached the wrong conversational target. Mai’s smile appeared. Tiny. Precise. Terrifying. “Yes,” she said softly. “That’s why everyone here is still alive.” Silence. The liaison blinked once. Then very carefully chose to leave. Reyes stared at Mai afterward. “…holy shit.” Ace looked genuinely impressed. Shammy quietly buried her face into her sleeve trying not to laugh again. Over comms: “I HEARD THAT.” --- # Chapter 6 — Lena in the Walls By the time the exchange officially entered its “preliminary trust alignment phase,” Reyes had decided neutral-zone etiquette was just corporate language for: > nobody shoot anyone until dessert Which honestly felt accurate. The lounge lighting dimmed slightly as encrypted partitions activated around several negotiation tables. Soft jazz continued playing somewhere overhead while expensive people pretended they weren’t all calculating exit routes constantly. Ace sat perfectly still beside Shammy. Too still. Reyes noticed immediately. “…you’re doing the thing again.” Ace didn’t look away from the room. “What thing.” “The ‘I’m suppressing violence manually’ thing.” “I’m sitting.” “Yeah, aggressively.” Shammy quietly folded inward trying not to laugh again. Immediately over comms: “Careful.” Shammy looked upward in betrayal. “How.” Lena answered instantly. “You made the pain face.” “That is not medically recognized terminology.” “It is in this household.” Reyes pointed toward the ceiling. “She’s become the omniscient house spirit.” “Correct,” Lena replied calmly. Ace muttered quietly: “We invited a caretaker cryptid into the safehouse.” --- The exchange organizers eventually distributed sealed movement credentials for the actual escort phase. Mai reviewed theirs carefully. “Interesting.” Reyes leaned sideways. “That word has never once improved my life.” Mai expanded the route overlay. “We’re escorting the asset through three neutrality checkpoints instead of one.” Ace immediately frowned. “That’s inefficient.” “Correct.” “Which means?” “Which means multiple parties insisted on visibility.” Translation: nobody trusted anybody enough to let the transfer happen cleanly. Very Night City. Shammy tilted her head slightly. “So everyone wants witnesses.” Mai nodded once. “And deniability.” Ace looked exhausted already. “I miss stabbing problems.” “NO YOU DON’T,” Reyes said instantly. Ace stared at her. “…a little.” Fair. --- Then came the seating rearrangement disaster. A neutral-zone coordinator approached their table carrying a holo tablet and the brittle emotional energy of somebody assigned a task they deeply regretted. “Apologies,” he said carefully, “but for optics purposes we’ll need to separate the seating order slightly during transport.” Every instinct in Ace’s body visibly rejected that sentence. “No.” The coordinator blinked once. “…I’m sorry?” “No.” Reyes physically covered her mouth trying not to laugh immediately. Mai intervened before Ace got formally banned from diplomacy. “Clarify the separation.” The coordinator visibly relaxed speaking to Mai instead. “Only vehicle positioning.” He checked the holo. “Miss Shammy and Miss Mai in the central executive transport. Miss Reyes and—” “No.” This time Ace somehow sounded even more offended. The poor coordinator looked genuinely distressed now. “It’s standard protocol—” “No.” Shammy finally touched Ace lightly on the wrist. Tiny movement. Immediate effect. Ace exhaled slowly through her nose. The entire table subtly relaxed with her. The coordinator noticed that too. Interesting. Very few people had ever seen Ace stabilize in real time before. Shammy smiled faintly. “It’s okay.” Ace looked at her for several long seconds. Then: “…fine.” Reyes immediately lost control laughing again. “Oh my god she really IS the only thing stopping you from becoming an urban legend crime statistic.” Ace pointed directly at her. “You are contributing nothing useful tonight.” “False. I’m morale support.” “Incorrect. You are environmental harassment.” --- The actual escort asset finally appeared fifteen minutes later. And somehow the room became even more tense. Not because the person looked dangerous. Because they looked painfully normal. Mid-thirties maybe. Corporate clothing. Exhausted eyes. Small encrypted case handcuffed to one wrist. No bodyguard swagger. No visible chrome flexing. Just someone trying very hard not to panic in a room full of predators. Ace noticed immediately. “She’s scared.” Reyes glanced sideways. “Well yeah. Look around.” “No.” Ace’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Real scared.” Mai tracked the surrounding room quietly. Interesting. Several observers suddenly seemed more attentive than before. Pressure shifting. Not enough for open escalation. Enough for concern. Shammy noticed it too. Tiny atmospheric tension rippled through the lounge again — not dramatic, just enough that nearby conversations subtly slowed. Then over comms: “Shammy.” “I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING.” “You’re leaning.” “That sounds fake.” “It isn’t.” Reyes muttered: “I’m starting to think Lena genuinely developed supernatural powers.” “Hydrate,” Lena replied immediately. “…see? Horrifying.” --- The coordinator finally returned carrying transport credentials. “All right,” he announced carefully. “Escort phase begins in seven minutes.” Ace immediately stood. Too fast. Shammy instinctively reached out slightly — —and winced. Tiny movement. Small pain spike. Ace noticed instantly. So did everyone else at the table. The room changed again. Ace crouched immediately beside her. “What.” Shammy shook her head quickly. “Nothing.” Lena’s voice detonated through comms instantly: “THAT WAS NOT NOTHING.” Several nearby guests visibly heard that through the open channel and turned slightly. Reyes physically folded over the table laughing. Mai covered her eyes briefly. Ace looked genuinely alarmed now. “Are you okay?” Shammy stared at her for a second. Then started laughing softly despite herself. “You know,” she wheezed quietly, “this might somehow be more stressful than getting shot.” And honestly? Nobody at the table could fully disagree. --- # Chapter 7 — The Problem With Civility The escort phase somehow made everything worse. The executive transport corridor stretched through the center of the hotel like a luxury artery: dark glass, soft floor lighting, silent security doors. Every meter of it screamed: _violence has happened here before and was cleaned professionally afterward._ Ace hated it instantly. “No windows.” “Correct,” Mai answered calmly. “No secondary exits.” “Yes.” “No visible security.” “Also yes.” Ace folded her arms tightly. “This is a death hallway.” Reyes walked beside her trying not to laugh again. “It’s a carpeted death hallway. Classy.” Ahead of them, the transfer asset walked between two neutrality officials clutching the encrypted case hard enough to whiten knuckles. Still terrified. Shammy noticed immediately. “She thinks somebody’s going to break the rules.” Mai’s eyes shifted subtly toward surrounding movement patterns. “…someone probably is.” That quieted the group immediately. Because in Night City, neutrality didn’t mean safety. It meant: everyone agreed the consequences of violence were currently inconvenient. Different thing entirely. --- Checkpoint One passed smoothly. Too smoothly. Identity scans. Pressure verification. Contract sync. Everyone polite. Everyone lying. Ace stood motionless while biometric systems scanned her posture again. The machine immediately flashed amber. > COMBAT READINESS ELEVATED Ace looked deeply offended. “I’m literally standing still.” The neutrality technician looked exhausted already. “It says that continuously.” “That feels discriminatory.” Reyes physically leaned against the corridor wall laughing. The technician finally sighed and manually overrode the warning. “Accepted.” Ace muttered darkly: “Oppressive system.” --- The actual problem appeared at Checkpoint Two. Tiny thing. Almost invisible. Which was why Mai noticed it immediately. The asset’s transfer authorization updated mid-route. Not unusual alone. But the timing pattern was wrong. Too late. Too sudden. Too quiet. Mai slowed slightly while reviewing the holo overlay. Interesting. Then more interesting. A secondary observer credential had appeared inside the route chain. Unauthorized? No. But inserted recently. Which meant somebody was trying to gain visibility into the transfer after neutrality protocols already locked. Bad manners. Potentially dangerous manners. Mai’s voice stayed perfectly calm. “We have a procedural inconsistency.” The checkpoint official immediately stiffened. “Clarify.” Mai rotated the holo outward. Tiny data discrepancy. Easy to miss. Everyone nearby suddenly became very interested without appearing interested. Classic neutral-zone behavior. The official frowned. “That authorization wasn’t present earlier.” “Correct.” The asset looked moments away from panic now. Ace noticed instantly. And unfortunately chose that exact moment to try helping again. She stepped slightly closer to the terrified woman and said, in what was probably intended as reassurance: “No one’s going to touch you.” The entire checkpoint froze. Because Ace said it with exactly the tone someone used before dismantling a military convoy. The asset stared at her in absolute alarm. Reyes physically grabbed the wall laughing silently. Shammy buried her face into one hand. Even Mai’s composure cracked microscopically. Ace looked around confused. “What.” “You sound,” Reyes wheezed, “like a natural disaster making promises.” “I was reassuring.” “No human being on earth hears that voice and relaxes.” Fair. --- Then the secondary observer arrived. Tall. Corporate-clean. Smile too polished. The kind of person who weaponized etiquette professionally. He approached with exactly the wrong amount of confidence. “Apologies for the late insertion,” he said smoothly. “My employers merely requested visibility regarding asset integrity.” Mai instantly disliked him. Ace disliked him even faster. Shammy tilted her head slightly. Pressure shift again. Tiny. Unintentional. The corporate observer looked toward the asset’s case. Then toward Ace. And smiled faintly. “There’s no need for intimidation. We’re all civilized here.” Oh no. Reyes saw it instantly. The mistake. Because the man thought Ace was trying to posture. He didn’t realize: this was Ace behaving politely. Ace’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I am civilized.” The observer smiled wider. “Of course.” Wrong answer. Very wrong answer. Shammy lightly touched Ace’s sleeve under the checkpoint table edge. Tiny contact. Immediate stabilization. Mai noticed the effect again. Interesting. Still terrifying. Still important. The observer continued smoothly: “Perhaps the escort should allow the professionals to handle procedural complications.” Reyes immediately looked away toward the ceiling because if she made eye contact with Ace right now she was going to explode laughing in public. Ace stared at the man silently for several seconds. Then: “You think I’m not a professional.” “No offense intended.” “Offense detected.” The checkpoint official suddenly looked desperate for retirement. Shammy was visibly shaking trying not to laugh again. And then Lena’s voice arrived over comms with absolute timing perfection: “Ace. No emotional stabbing.” The entire checkpoint went dead silent. The corporate observer blinked once. The neutrality official closed his eyes briefly. Reyes completely lost structural integrity laughing into the corridor wall. And Ace? Ace looked upward toward the ceiling with the exhausted expression of someone betrayed by the universe itself. “…Lena on the walls,” she muttered darkly. From comms: “Correct.” --- # Chapter 8 — Reyes Makes It Worse On Purpose The neutrality checkpoint never fully recovered after “emotional stabbing.” You could feel it. Conversations restarted half a beat too late. Security personnel kept glancing toward Ace involuntarily. One corporate delegate nearly walked into a glass divider while staring too long. And Reyes? Reyes had entered a state of transcendent happiness. “This,” she whispered while walking beside Ace through the next corridor, “is the best job we’ve ever taken.” Ace looked ready to throw herself off the forty-third floor voluntarily. “You are enjoying my suffering.” “Yes.” “Maliciously.” “Yes.” “Good to know.” Shammy leaned lightly against the corridor rail while trying very hard not to aggravate recovery pain laughing again. Mai walked ahead reviewing transfer updates with increasing concern. Because underneath the comedy? Something still smelled wrong. --- The observer problem escalated quietly. Not openly. That was the dangerous part. The corporate liaison from earlier never directly interfered again — but suddenly: additional route checks appeared, timing slowed, new verification requests materialized. Pressure without fingerprints. Classic. Mai finally stopped near a secondary checkpoint terminal and folded her arms. “He’s probing contract authority.” Reyes immediately perked up. “Oh I can make this worse.” Ace looked toward her slowly. “That sentence should concern me more than it currently does.” “It should concern everybody.” Shammy smiled faintly. “She’s already planning something.” “Correct.” Mai considered stopping her. Then reconsidered reconsidering. Because honestly? Reyes operating socially was sometimes more effective than actual sabotage. Which said unpleasant things about Night City as a civilization. --- Three minutes later Reyes accidentally-on-purpose wandered directly into the observer’s conversational cluster near the champagne bar. The man looked mildly surprised. “Miss Reyes.” “Please,” Reyes smiled pleasantly, “that sounds like I pay taxes.” The surrounding brokers chuckled automatically. Good. Social rhythm established. The observer maintained composure. “Enjoying the evening?” “Oh absolutely. Love heavily armed diplomacy.” One nearby intermediary nearly inhaled a drink incorrectly. Reyes leaned casually against the counter. “So how long have you known?” The observer blinked once. “…known what.” Perfect. Tiny hesitation. Visible attention spike from nearby listeners. Reyes internally smiled. Hook set. She lowered her voice slightly. “You know.” Tiny shrug. “The route conflict.” Now three nearby conversations slowed subtly. Nobody looking directly. Everybody listening. The observer’s smile tightened microscopically. “I’m not sure what you’re implying.” “Good,” Reyes answered immediately. “Means you’re smart.” Then she walked away. No explanation. No clarification. Just damage. The observer remained standing perfectly still for half a second too long afterward. Which was all Night City sharks needed. Questions began spreading instantly beneath the room’s polished civility. Who knows what? Who leaked what? Who inserted credentials? Who’s exposed? Beautiful. Mai watched the ripple effect move through the lounge and sighed softly. “…she weaponized ambiguity again.” Ace looked genuinely impressed. “That was evil.” “Professional evil,” Shammy corrected. Over comms: “I heard that.” Lena somehow sounded disappointed and proud simultaneously. --- The observer attempted recovery twenty minutes later. Too late. By then multiple factions had already begun quietly checking their own internal authorization chains. Paranoia spreading elegantly through the room like expensive perfume. The observer approached Mai directly this time. Mistake. “Your associate appears to be creating unnecessary uncertainty.” Mai looked up slowly from her holo display. “Interesting phrasing.” The observer’s smile remained fixed carefully in place. “We are attempting civilized exchange.” Mai nodded once. “Yes.” Tiny pause. Then: “And yet someone altered authorization layering mid-transfer.” Silence. The observer’s eyes sharpened slightly. Nearby listeners immediately recalculated again. Reyes nearly vibrated with joy from across the room. Ace leaned closer toward Shammy slightly. “…is Mai threatening him diplomatically.” Shammy smiled softly. “Yes.” “That’s terrifying.” “Correct.” The observer finally adjusted his tone. “You’re implying misconduct.” Mai tilted her head slightly. “No.” Tiny smile. “I’m implying visibility.” Oh that was nasty. Even Reyes physically winced in admiration. Because in neutrality culture, visibility WAS the threat. Not violence. Exposure. The observer realized too late he’d lost room control. And worse? Everybody else realized it too. --- Meanwhile Ace had become trapped in another social interaction. A wealthy black-market broker had cornered her near one of the skyline windows. “So,” the broker smiled nervously, “what exactly is your specialty.” Ace answered honestly. “…rapid problem resolution.” The broker laughed uncertainly. “Hah. Right.” Silence. Ace continued staring. The broker’s laughter died immediately. Across the room Reyes spotted this and physically folded into Shammy’s shoulder laughing again. Bad idea. Immediately bad idea. Shammy winced hard enough that Ace noticed from twenty meters away instantly. Ace appeared beside the couch seating area almost immediately. “What happened.” “Nothing,” Shammy answered quickly. Lena’s voice detonated through comms: “SHE LAUGHED TOO HARD AGAIN.” Several nearby neutrality guests visibly flinched. One security guard actually muttered: “…what the fuck is happening with this group.” Reyes was crying laughing openly now. Even Mai finally lost enough composure to look away from the negotiation tables briefly. And the terrifying thing? The atmosphere of the entire lounge had changed. Not weaker. Safer. Because somehow the Triad had accidentally transformed from: silent urban predators into: the most bizarrely functional people in the room. Which, in Night City, was honestly much scarier. --- # Chapter 9 — The Closest Ace Gets to Drawing a Sword The exchange should have ended cleanly. That was the truly offensive part. The asset transfer completed. Verification chains aligned. Neutrality signatures finalized. Everybody should have smiled politely and gone home to continue committing crimes professionally elsewhere. Instead, Night City happened. --- The final confirmation phase took place inside a private skyline lounge overlooking rain-soaked Santo Domingo. Glass walls. Low gold light. Expensive silence. The encrypted case sat sealed at the center table while representatives from each faction completed the last biometric confirmations. Mai handled the procedural side effortlessly now. Too effortlessly. At some point the entire room had quietly accepted she was the most competent person present. Which deeply amused Reyes. Ace stood near the rear observation wall visibly enduring existence one second at a time. Shammy sat nearby with a blanket over her legs because Lena had somehow remotely enforced blanket usage through pure psychological warfare. Nobody questioned it anymore. Then the observer made his final mistake. Not loud. Not dramatic. Small. Which was why it nearly worked. He glanced toward Shammy’s movement brace while the last signatures processed. Then casually said: “Remarkable recovery timeline.” Tiny smile. “Though I suppose some damage leaves permanent hesitation.” Silence. Tiny sentence. Precision-cut cruelty. The room temperature dropped instantly. Reyes looked up first. Mai second. Ace immediately afterward. And every survival instinct in the observer’s body finally realized: oh. Wrong target. Shammy’s expression didn’t even change much. That somehow made it worse. Ace moved before thought fully existed. Not attacking. Not yet. But the shift itself hit the room like a pressure wave. One step forward. Every neutrality guard in the lounge instantly tensed. Hands near hidden weapons. Biometric systems spiking violently. > COMBAT READINESS CRITICAL The room alarms flashed amber. The observer visibly paled. Too late. Ace’s voice came quiet enough to be terrifying. “Careful.” No yelling. No threat posture. Just pure compressed warning. And suddenly every person in the room understood exactly why Night City whispered about her instead of describing her normally. The observer tried recovering immediately. “I merely meant—” “No.” Ace took another step. The neutrality guards were now one bad heartbeat away from catastrophic escalation. Mai saw it instantly. Reyes too. This was the edge. Not joking anymore. Not comedy. The exact razor-thin line the entire evening had balanced on. And the worst part? Ace genuinely didn’t seem fully aware how close she was to crossing it. Because this wasn’t rage. It was instinct. Shammy noticed immediately. Of course she did. She stood carefully despite Lena probably sensing the movement psychically somewhere across the city. “Shammy—” Mai started. Too late. Shammy stepped beside Ace slowly and lightly touched two fingers against her wrist. Tiny contact. That was all. Immediate effect. The room pressure changed instantly. Ace inhaled once sharply. Like somebody waking from underwater. The amber warning indicators slowly dropped from CRITICAL toward elevated. Neutrality guards visibly relaxed half an inch. The observer looked like he’d just survived a traffic collision spiritually. Shammy leaned lightly against Ace’s shoulder afterward. Not weak. Anchoring. “You’re doing the thing again,” she murmured softly. Ace closed her eyes briefly. “…yeah.” Reyes exhaled slowly from across the room. “Jesus Christ.” Mai calmly resumed the signature sequence like the room had not nearly detonated into violence thirty seconds earlier. Which somehow made everybody even more nervous. The observer wisely said absolutely nothing afterward. Correct survival choice. --- Then Lena’s voice arrived through comms with horrifying timing: “Why is Shammy standing.” The entire room froze again. Shammy looked upward slowly. “…how do you KEEP DOING THAT.” “Sit down.” “I’m emotionally occupied.” “Sit. Down.” Ace quietly guided Shammy back toward the seating area automatically. And somehow that tiny domestic movement completely shattered the remaining tension in the room. One neutrality guard actually looked away trying not to laugh. Reyes physically folded over against the skyline window silently dying. Even Mai’s mouth twitched briefly. The observer stood there realizing with mounting horror that: - he had almost triggered a massacre - the terrifying sword gremlin had been calmed by gentle wrist contact - and somewhere out in Night City, an invisible caretaker voice controlled all of them remotely The exchange finalized thirty seconds later. Nobody spoke during the closing signatures. Nobody wanted to risk activating Ace accidentally again. --- # Chapter 10 — Mai Wins the Room The aftermath of the almost-incident spread through the lounge in complete silence. Which, in Night City, was infinitely louder than panic. Nobody openly discussed what had happened. But now: drinks arrived faster, security stood farther away, and absolutely nobody attempted conversational dominance near the Triad again. The neutrality atmosphere had changed. Not broken. Corrected. Ace sat beside Shammy now visibly trying very hard to behave like a normal person who had not nearly triggered a diplomatic bloodbath fifteen minutes earlier. Reyes continued suffering catastrophic amusement damage because of it. “You got emotionally leash-checked in front of corporate representatives,” she whispered. Ace stared straight ahead. “I hate you.” “That’s fair.” Shammy quietly pressed her forehead against Ace’s shoulder trying not to laugh again. Immediately over comms: “No laughing.” “I DIDN’T.” “That was pre-laughter posture.” “Lena has become omniscient.” “Correct.” --- Meanwhile the actual exchange complication still remained unresolved. Because the observer’s interference had damaged trust sequencing badly enough that two participating factions now wanted secondary verification. Meaning: everybody was smiling politely while preparing to accuse each other of manipulation. Mai finally stood. And the entire room subtly tracked the movement. Interesting. At some point during the evening she had become the unofficial structural center of the negotiation. Not because she demanded authority. Because everybody else kept failing visibly around her. Mai approached the central verification table calmly. “We are wasting time.” One broker folded his arms defensively. “Protocol integrity was compromised.” “Partially,” Mai corrected. “Visibility integrity was compromised. Different issue.” The observer visibly disliked that phrasing returning. Good. Mai expanded the route data above the table. Elegant. Precise. Terrifyingly organized. “Current evidence suggests opportunistic insertion, not transfer corruption.” She highlighted three timestamps instantly. “No asset deviation occurred. No seal interruption occurred. No custody break occurred.” Silence. People leaned in despite themselves. Mai continued: “The exchange remains structurally valid unless participants now choose to destabilize it emotionally.” Oh that was vicious. Even Reyes looked impressed. Because everybody in the room immediately understood what she’d done: she reframed further objections as insecurity. Beautiful. The observer attempted one final recovery. “You’re asking us to ignore procedural breach.” Mai looked directly at him. “No.” Tiny pause. “I’m asking whether your employers wish to become the only faction here publicly associated with delay behavior.” The room went dead silent. Absolute murder. Corporate murder. Social murder. Financial murder. But murder. The observer realized instantly he’d lost. Because neutrality spaces ran on one invisible currency above all else: reputation stability. And Mai had just positioned him one sentence away from becoming “the faction causing problems.” Which in Night City high-end circles translated directly into: future exclusion. The observer slowly exhaled. “…the transfer remains acceptable.” There it was. Surrender. Reyes actually muttered: “Holy shit.” Ace looked toward Mai with open admiration now. “You do violence differently.” Mai didn’t even glance back. “Correct.” --- The signatures finalized three minutes later. Asset transferred. Verification sealed. Neutrality preserved. Nobody dead. Several people still seemed emotionally unconvinced by that outcome. The neutrality coordinator approached cautiously afterward carrying the final confirmation tablet. “Congratulations,” he said carefully. “The exchange concludes successfully.” Ace immediately: “Can I have my swords back now.” The man blinked once. “…yes.” That was the happiest Reyes had seen Ace all evening. Not smiling. But spiritually rehydrated. --- The weapon return checkpoint became its own disaster. The security woman from earlier unlocked Ace’s containment case with visible professional caution. Then paused. “…there are more blades in here than before.” Silence. Everyone slowly turned toward Ace. Ace looked genuinely confused. “That’s impossible.” The security woman held up one tiny concealed knife between two fingers. Reyes physically collapsed against the wall. “ACE.” “I DIDN’T PUT THAT THERE.” Mai pinched the bridge of her nose. Shammy was now silently shaking trying not to laugh hard enough to medically disassemble herself. Over comms: “NO.” “I’M NOT EVEN MAKING SOUND.” “You’re vibrating again.” Ace stared at the mystery knife like it personally betrayed her. “…okay that one actually isn’t mine.” The security woman slowly looked toward Reyes. Reyes raised both hands immediately. “Oh no. Absolutely not. I would never sabotage a neutrality checkpoint for comedy.” Long pause. “…that sounded rehearsed,” Mai observed. “Unfair accusation.” Ace narrowed her eyes slowly. “…you planted emergency backup knives on me.” Reyes completely lost composure again. “YOU LOOKED NERVOUS WITHOUT THEM.” Even the security woman had to physically turn away at that point. And somewhere across Night City, Lena’s exhausted voice arrived through comms one final time: “I leave all of you alone for ONE evening.” --- # Chapter 11 — Exit Strategy The elevator ride down somehow felt even more dangerous than the trip up. Not because of violence. Because now Ace had her swords back. The atmosphere changed immediately after the weapon cases returned. Not aggressive. Balanced. Like the universe itself relaxed slightly once Ace stopped being artificially disarmed. Reyes noticed instantly. “Oh my god,” she whispered dramatically, “you actually needed emotional support katanas.” Ace held one transport case protectively against her side. “Correct.” “That is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.” “It’s also true,” Shammy murmured quietly. Ace looked betrayed again. “You too?” Shammy smiled faintly. “I support your emotional support weapons.” Over comms: “No sword hugging.” Ace blinked once slowly toward the elevator ceiling. “…Lena, respectfully, what the fuck.” “Victor explained your coping mechanisms.” “That feels illegal.” “Correct.” Mai stood near the elevator controls trying very hard not to visibly smile again. Unfortunately Reyes noticed. “Oh no. Mai’s doing tiny facial expressions again.” “I am not.” “You absolutely are.” “False.” “One day we’ll get a full smile out of you and the city will explode.” Mai considered this seriously. “Statistically possible.” --- The neutral-zone lobby remained painfully elegant even at near-midnight hours. Rain rolled down the towering glass walls outside while executive transports drifted silently through the streets below. And everywhere the Triad moved now… …people subtly moved aside. Not fear exactly. Recognition. That weird Night City understanding of: _those people bring consequences._ The neutrality coordinator approached one final time near the exit scanners. He looked exhausted. Emotionally damaged. And deeply relieved the building still existed. “Your professionalism tonight is appreciated.” Reyes immediately lost composure again. Ace looked upward like she was asking the universe for strength. Shammy quietly buried her face into Ace’s shoulder laughing silently. Mai answered politely. “We’re glad the exchange concluded without escalation.” The coordinator hesitated. Then: “…I’ll admit, there were concerns.” Ace narrowed her eyes slightly. “What concerns.” The man immediately regretted answering. “Well…” Tiny pause. “The short one.” Reyes physically folded sideways against the security rail. Ace looked offended beyond language itself. “I behaved.” “You absolutely did,” the coordinator said quickly. “Extremely well.” “That sounded surprised.” “…it was slightly surprised.” Fair. The man hesitated one final time. Then quietly added: “For what it’s worth… the room stabilized when your group stabilized.” Interesting. Mai noticed Ace hearing that immediately. Tiny shift. Because yes. That had been the entire hidden structure of the evening. Not intimidation. Not violence. Equilibrium. Even Night City noticed when the Triad breathed correctly again. The coordinator nodded politely and retreated before surviving instinct failed further. --- Outside, the rain felt colder. Cleaner somehow. The city lights smeared endlessly across flooded streets while the transport convoy prepared below the hotel awning. Reyes stretched slowly beside the armored vehicle. “Well,” she announced, “nobody died.” Ace nodded once. “Unexpected.” “Deeply.” Shammy leaned carefully against the transport door while Lena immediately spoke over comms: “Do not lean on unstable surfaces.” Shammy stared upward into the rain. “…you can’t prove this surface is unstable.” “It’s Night City. Everything is unstable.” That was annoyingly difficult to argue against. --- Then Kiro messaged the group chat. Immediately. Of course she somehow knew already. > heard the diplomacy mission survived > honestly disappointed nobody suplexed a corpo through a piano > proud of you though Reyes started laughing immediately. Mai sighed quietly. “How does she always know.” Ace checked the message. Then typed back with visible irritation. > nobody got stabbed Three seconds later: > growth Shammy physically folded laughing again. Immediate regret. “OW—” Lena detonated through comms instantly: “THAT’S IT.” Everyone froze. Even Ace. Lena continued with terrifying calm: “If this keeps happening, I am personally sending Victor permission to medically sedate Shammy for two weeks.” Silence. Then Reyes quietly whispered: “…Lena on the walls.” Ace nodded solemnly. “Lena on the walls.” And as the convoy pulled into rain-soaked Night City traffic, the entire vehicle dissolved into exhausted laughter all over again. --- # EPILOGUE — “Medical Tyranny” The safehouse door opened at 01:42 AM. And immediately — everyone inside knew the mission had succeeded. Not because of tactical reports. Because Reyes was laughing before she fully crossed the threshold. “—AND THEN THE SECURITY WOMAN FOUND ANOTHER KNIFE—” “I STILL DON’T KNOW WHERE THAT ONE CAME FROM,” Ace protested immediately behind her. “That somehow makes it worse.” Mai entered carrying enough exhausted professionalism for the entire group while Shammy followed more carefully beside Ace under approximately fourteen invisible Lena restrictions. The safehouse lights glowed warm. Rain tapped softly outside. And for the first time in weeks, the returning atmosphere felt genuinely light. Then Lena looked up from the couch. And immediately narrowed her eyes. “You overextended.” Shammy blinked once. “…hello to you too.” “You laughed too hard four separate times.” Reyes pointed instantly. “SHE COUNTED.” “Of course I counted.” Ace slowly removed the sword cases and leaned them beside the entry wall with visible emotional relief. Lena noticed that too. “…you really do calm down after getting those back.” Ace froze mid-motion. Everyone else looked toward her slowly. Reyes immediately collapsed against the kitchen counter laughing again. “Oh my god the emotional support swords are REAL.” “They are NOT emotional support swords.” Shammy quietly leaned toward Lena. “They absolutely are.” Ace looked betrayed by the entire social structure. “None of you are trustworthy.” “Correct,” Mai answered calmly. --- The post-mission medical inspection began approximately thirty seconds later. Lena somehow herded Shammy toward the couch recovery nest with the terrifying efficiency of someone who had long since accepted that direct force was occasionally necessary. “I’m fine.” “You limped entering the hallway.” “That was stylistic.” “That was nerve pain.” “…rude.” Lena pulled up Victor’s recovery chart while Shammy dramatically collapsed sideways into the cushions. Ace hovered nearby automatically. Lena noticed immediately. “…you too.” Ace blinked once. “What.” “You are hovering.” “I am observing.” “Hovering with combat posture.” Reyes physically made a dying noise laughing into the refrigerator door. Mai sat down at the table slowly removing gloves and finally allowing herself to visibly decompress for the first time all evening. Interesting. Even she looked lighter now. --- Then Lena checked the comm logs. Long silence. Very long silence. Then: “…why does the phrase ‘emotional stabbing’ appear seventeen times.” The entire safehouse froze. Reyes immediately folded in half laughing. Ace closed her eyes slowly like someone preparing for death. Shammy made one dangerous little wheezing sound and instantly regretted it. “OW—” Lena pointed immediately. “See? This is exactly the problem.” Mai tried — genuinely tried — to maintain composure. Failed catastrophically after approximately four seconds. Lena kept scrolling through the logs. Her expression became increasingly distant. “…what does ‘combat readiness critical’ mean.” Nobody answered. Lena looked up slowly. Ace immediately pointed toward Reyes. “She started it.” “FALSE,” Reyes shouted instantly. “You escalated naturally.” “You emotionally destabilized the checkpoint.” “You brought hidden knives.” “They were planted!” “That defense somehow sounds worse every time.” Shammy was now physically shaking trying not to laugh herself back into surgery. Lena finally lowered the holo tablet. Then very calmly: “I understand Victor now.” Silence. Everybody stared at her. Lena continued with the exhausted serenity of someone spiritually leaving their body. “If this continues, I’m approving the medical coma myself.” Ace looked genuinely alarmed. “That feels excessive.” “You almost triggered a neutrality collapse because somebody insulted Shammy.” “…in my defense—” “No.” Fair. Reyes leaned sideways against the counter wiping tears from one eye. “…you know what the worst part is?” Mai sighed quietly. “There are several candidates.” “The worst part is,” Reyes continued, “we actually behaved professionally tonight.” Long silence. Then everybody slowly realized: …she was right. Nobody died. The exchange succeeded. Neutrality held. No swords drawn. No bloodshed. Objectively? This had been one of the most controlled operations the Triad had performed in months. And somehow it still became complete psychological warfare for everyone involved. Shammy finally leaned back carefully into the couch nest smiling faintly through lingering pain and exhaustion. “I had fun.” Ace looked toward her immediately. The room softened with the movement automatically now. Natural again. Balanced again. Reyes noticed it. Mai noticed it. Lena noticed it too. Interesting. Very quietly, Lena exhaled through her nose and finally relaxed half an inch. Then: “…okay.” Tiny pause. “Maybe this was medically useful.” Victory. Immediate victory. Shammy raised one hand weakly from beneath blankets. “You all heard that.” “No celebrating,” Lena warned instantly. Too late. The entire safehouse exploded laughing one final time anyway. And somewhere across Night City, Victor Vektor probably developed another stress headache for reasons he could not medically explain.