## Chapter 1 — “Your Locks Are Garbage.” Reyes lasted exactly eleven seconds inside her apartment before deciding she hated it now. Not visibly damaged. Not ransacked anymore. No broken glass. No active threat indicators. Just… wrong. The hallway silence pressed too flat. The rooms felt too still. Every shadow looked slightly more intentional than before. Reyes stood in the entryway holding grocery bags while Ace and Mai moved through the apartment automatically behind her. Nobody speaking much. Checking. Not dramatically. Just professionally. Mai examined the front door first. Then immediately: “These locks are terrible.” Reyes looked offended on instinct. “They worked before.” Ace crouched near the lower frame and quietly ran fingers along the old breach marks. “No they didn’t.” Fair. Reyes dropped the grocery bags onto the kitchen counter harder than necessary. “I hate when you’re both competent together.” Mai checked the hallway camera feed. “This building security is mostly decorative.” “That’s rude.” “That’s accurate.” Ace straightened slowly near the doorframe. “She’s right.” “YOU are not helping.” --- The apartment itself wasn’t small. Compact by corpo standards maybe. Comfortable by Night City standards. But now that Reyes actually stood still inside it again… …the empty spaces echoed differently. Mai noticed her scanning rooms automatically. Interesting. Reyes noticed Mai noticing. “Don’t psychoanalyze me in my own kitchen.” “I wasn’t.” “Liar.” Tiny pause. “…a little.” Fair enough. --- Ace wandered toward the window overlooking the street below. Traffic rolled through wet neon while distant sirens drifted somewhere farther downtown. Normal Night City noise. Usually comforting. Tonight? Too much room between sounds. Interesting. Ace noticed it too. “This place is too quiet.” Reyes folded both arms immediately. “THANK you.” Mai glanced sideways. “You stayed at the safehouse too long.” “Apparently.” That answer landed softer than intended. Nobody pushed it further. --- Mai pulled up a building schematic overlay. “All right.” Ace immediately looked suspicious. “That tone means expensive.” “Correct.” Reyes narrowed her eyes. “No corpo panic-room bullshit.” Mai ignored that completely. “Biometric lock replacement.” “Secondary internal deadbolt.” “Encrypted hallway camera loop.” “Emergency override routing.” Reyes stared at her. “…you’re suggesting military-grade paranoia.” Mai didn’t even blink. “I’m suggesting competent access control.” Ace immediately: “Those are the same thing.” “TRAITORS.” --- The worst part? Reyes knew they were right. She hated that. Because this wasn’t really about the locks. It was about the moment somebody crossed into her space once already. Night City rule: once something happened, your nervous system remembered faster than logic did. Reyes walked slowly toward the bedroom doorway afterward. Stopped. Then quietly: “…I keep expecting somebody to still be here.” Silence. Tiny sentence. Huge honesty. Ace looked toward her immediately — not dramatic, not pitying. Just understanding. “Yeah,” she answered softly. “That happens.” Interesting. Because Ace said it like experience, not reassurance. --- Mai finally closed the schematic overlay. “I’ll order the replacement hardware.” Reyes rubbed one hand down her face slowly. “…fine.” Ace looked toward her. “That sounded painful.” “It WAS painful.” Mai already resumed planning routes and installation timing. Efficient as always. Reyes watched both of them move naturally through the apartment for a few more seconds. Then sighed. “…okay maybe the locks ARE garbage.” Ace nodded immediately. “Correct.” Reyes pointed toward her. “I’m still charging you emotionally for agreeing with Mai this fast.” “Reasonable.” --- # Chapter 2 — Biometric Solutions Installing the new security system immediately became an argument. Not because anybody disagreed the apartment needed upgrades. Because Mai approached residential security like she was fortifying a small nation-state. Reyes stood in the middle of the living room holding a cup of coffee while holographic overlays consumed half the apartment. “I said secure,” she complained. “Not orbital defense platform.” Mai adjusted one camera angle calmly. “This IS restrained.” “That sentence is upsetting.” Ace crouched near the entry frame installing the biometric lock assembly with terrifying focus. Too much focus maybe. Reyes narrowed her eyes. “…what exactly are you adding in there.” Ace didn’t look up. “Reinforced internal latch.” “That sounds illegal.” “It probably is.” Mai immediately: “It is.” Ace finally glanced upward. “Cowards.” --- The old locks came apart embarrassingly fast. That somehow made everything worse. Ace removed the final deadbolt component and stared at it for several seconds. “…this could’ve been bypassed with a screwdriver.” Reyes looked personally attacked. “You are dramatically overselling normal burglary.” “No,” Mai answered from across the apartment. “She’s underselling it.” Reyes slowly pointed between both of them. “You know what? I preferred ignorance.” Fair honestly. --- The apartment gradually transformed over the next two hours. Not into a bunker. Mai kept the upgrades subtle: - clean biometric access panel - hallway motion alerts - internal emergency lock - encrypted camera routing Invisible security. Professional security. Ace still tried escalating things anyway. “We could install a small automated shotgun.” “No.” “A medium automated shotgun.” “No.” “Motion-triggered floor spikes?” Reyes stared at her. “What century are you from.” Ace looked genuinely thoughtful. “Several emotionally.” Mai continued wiring the security relay without acknowledging any of this. Correct survival instinct. --- The comedy disaster arrived during biometric calibration. Because Reyes kept failing the scanner. “Hold still,” Mai instructed. “I AM still.” The scanner flashed red again. > AUTHORIZATION FAILED Ace leaned sideways from the hallway panel. “It thinks you’re suspicious.” “I AM suspicious.” “That’s the problem.” Reyes tried again. Red. Again. Red. Mai frowned slightly at the holo display. Interesting. “Your hand tremor exceeds the default tolerance threshold.” Long silence. Reyes folded both arms instantly. “I hate that sentence.” Ace looked toward the scanner. “Oh.” There it was. Not fear exactly. Residual adrenaline memory. The body still reacting before the brain caught up. Mai adjusted the threshold quietly without comment. Professional courtesy. Reyes noticed anyway. “…don’t.” Mai looked up. “I didn’t say anything.” “Yeah.” Tiny pause. “That’s worse.” --- Eventually the system accepted Reyes’s print. The apartment lights shifted softly as the new lock grid synchronized. > ACCESS CONTROL ACTIVE Silence settled briefly afterward. Not dramatic. Just… final. The apartment suddenly felt less open. Contained correctly again. Reyes noticed immediately. Interesting. Because her shoulders lowered half an inch without realizing it. Ace saw that too. Didn’t mention it. Good choice. --- Later, while Mai calibrated hallway cameras, Ace stood near the kitchen examining the final security overlay. “…still feels too exposed.” Reyes groaned loudly. “YOU are not allowed to define normal security standards.” “She’s right,” Mai answered calmly. “MAI.” “What.” “You’re enabling tactical paranoia.” “No,” Mai corrected. “I’m enabling survivability.” Ace nodded once immediately. “See.” Reyes stared at both of them. “…this friendship is a public health concern.” Fair enough honestly.