## Chapter 1 — Front Door The safehouse was quiet. Not sleeping quiet. Occupied quiet. The kind that happened after too many long nights, too many bad jobs, and too many people deciding that consciousness was optional until further notice. Morning light filtered through the apartment windows in pale gray strips. The rain had mostly stopped outside. Somewhere beyond the glass, Night City was already pretending the warehouse district disaster had never happened. Inside, the coffee machine was losing a fight against Kiro. Again. "You're doing something wrong." "I'm not." "You've been staring at it for thirty seconds." "It's staring back." Mai didn't look up from her datapad. "That is not how coffee works." Kiro pointed at the machine. "That's exactly how coffee works." At the kitchen island, Shammy sat with a mug cradled between both hands. Steam drifted lazily upward. She looked completely awake. Which was unfair. Nobody should have looked that calm after the previous night. The front door opened. All three looked up automatically. Ace stepped inside. The apartment became very quiet. Ace stopped. Not because she had done anything. Because she knew that silence. And because all three of them were looking at her. Kiro blinked once. Twice. Then slowly lowered her coffee mug. "...oh." Ace pointed immediately. "No." "I didn't even say anything." "You were about to." "I absolutely was." Ace closed the door behind her and dropped her jacket over the nearest chair. The Shadow Aura rested low around her today. Present. Familiar. Quiet. Not gone. Just... settled. Kiro's eyes narrowed. "Oh my God." Ace began walking toward the kitchen. "Don't." "OH MY GOD." Mai finally looked up from the datapad. One glance. That was all. Then she returned to reading. "Good." Ace stopped. "...good?" "Yes." "That is not an answer." "It wasn't a question." Kiro made a strangled noise. "Mai! You can't just—" "I can." "You know what happened!" Mai looked genuinely puzzled. "No." Kiro froze. Then pointed dramatically. "You absolutely know what happened." "I know something happened." "THAT'S WORSE." Ace considered turning around and leaving. The problem was that Reyes had already survived the dangerous part of the evening. Now she was facing Kiro. The truly lethal encounter. Shammy took a sip of coffee. Then calmly said: "The pressure changed." Silence. Ace closed her eyes. "Traitor." Shammy tilted her head slightly. "Observation." "You're all using that word incorrectly." "No," Mai said. "We're not." Kiro nearly fell off the stool laughing. Ace hated this building. Unfortunately, it was her building. Which complicated revenge considerably. She moved toward the coffee machine. Kiro tracked her movement with the intensity of a trained surveillance drone. Ace grabbed a mug. Kiro watched. Ace poured coffee. Kiro watched. Ace took one sip. Kiro continued watching. "...what." Kiro pointed dramatically. "See?" "See what?" "That." Ace stared. Kiro stared back. Mai didn't even look up. "She's impossible." "I know." "No, seriously." "I know." Shammy quietly hid a smile behind her coffee mug. Ace noticed. That somehow made everything worse. Then her agent vibrated. Tiny sound. Barely audible. But Kiro's head snapped around instantly. Like a predator detecting movement. Ace looked down. One message. Reyes. **Still alive?** Ace stared at the screen for half a second. Then typed: **Unfortunately.** Reply arrived almost immediately. **Tragic.** Ace's mouth twitched. Tiny. Almost invisible. Almost. Kiro saw it. Kiro made a sound usually associated with industrial accidents. "Oh my GOD." Ace immediately put the agent away. Too late. Far too late. Kiro pointed again. "THERE." "There what." "THAT." "You are making less and less sense." "You're smiling." "I am not." "YOU ARE." Mai sighed. "The two of you are exhausting." Ace took another drink of coffee. The coffee was terrible. Kiro had definitely made it. Some things never changed. And for the first time since the warehouse district, since the routes, since the underpass, since the transfer junction— Ace realized she was actually okay. Not perfect. Not fixed. Not magically transformed into a functional human being. Just okay. The pressure was gone. For now. And apparently that was enough for everyone else to notice. Especially Kiro. Which, unfortunately, meant the worst was probably still ahead. 😄 --- ## Chapter 2 — Professional Curiosity The coffee did not improve. Ace had hoped maybe the second sip would reveal hidden qualities. It did not. It somehow got worse. She lowered the mug slowly. "Kiro." Kiro sat on the opposite side of the kitchen island pretending to read something on her agent. "Yes?" "This tastes like a threat." "Thank you." "That wasn't a compliment." "It rarely is." Mai accepted a fresh mug from the machine and took one sip. Paused. Looked at the cup. Looked at Kiro. "...what happened." Kiro threw both hands into the air. "THANK YOU." Ace pointed immediately. "Don't encourage her." Mai set the mug down. "I am not encouraging her." "You just validated her." "Accidentally." "Counts." Shammy quietly pushed her own mug toward Mai. Mai accepted the trade without a word. Kiro looked betrayed. "Wow." The apartment settled into the familiar rhythm of people pretending they weren't having the conversation they were obviously having. Ace leaned against the counter. Kiro watched. Ace noticed. Kiro didn't even bother pretending anymore. "What." Kiro pointed. Again. "See, that's what I mean." "What." "You're standing differently." Ace stared. Kiro stared back. Mai rubbed her forehead. "No." "Yes." "No." "YES." "You cannot diagnose posture." "I absolutely can." Shammy took another sip of coffee. "The pressure changed." Kiro pointed immediately. "THANK YOU." Ace looked toward the ceiling. "If I jump off the balcony, will any of you stop me?" Mai considered. "No." "Rude." "Practical." The agent on the counter buzzed again. Everybody saw it. Especially Kiro. Ace saw Kiro see it. Kiro saw Ace see Kiro see it. The entire kitchen froze. Ace grabbed the agent. Too late. Way too late. Kiro was already grinning. "Is it Reyes?" "No." "It is." "It isn't." "It absolutely is." Ace checked the screen. Reyes. **Did Kiro notice yet?** Ace closed her eyes. Mai looked up. That was unfortunate. Shammy looked up. Even more unfortunate. Kiro practically launched herself across the counter. "OH MY GOD." Ace immediately locked the screen. Kiro made an outraged noise. "You can't do that." "I literally can." "You cannot show me a message exists and then hide it." "I didn't show you anything." "YOU PICKED IT UP LIKE IT WAS RADIOACTIVE." Mai's shoulders moved once. Tiny movement. Almost invisible. A laugh. Ace pointed. "No." Mai looked genuinely innocent. "What." "Don't start." "I haven't said anything." "Exactly." That was somehow worse. Kiro was now vibrating. Actually vibrating. Shammy watched all of this with the calm patience of someone observing weather patterns. Which, for Shammy, was basically accurate. Ace typed a reply. **Within thirty seconds.** The answer arrived before she could put the agent down. **Called it.** Ace hated both of them. For completely different reasons. Kiro saw the tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth. And immediately slapped both hands onto the countertop. "There!" "There what." "THAT." Ace turned toward Mai. "Can we mute her." "No." "Temporarily." "No." "Five minutes." "No." Kiro looked delighted. "See? She likes me." Mai didn't even glance up. "No." The kitchen dissolved into chaos after that. Not serious chaos. Safehouse chaos. The familiar kind. Kiro trying to interrogate everyone. Mai pretending not to participate while secretly making things worse. Shammy dropping one sentence every few minutes that somehow hit harder than entire conversations. And Ace gradually realizing something unpleasant. Nobody was actually interested in details. Nobody cared what happened in the car. Nobody was trying to extract information. The reason they were all being insufferable was much simpler. They were happy. The realization hit harder than expected. Mai eventually returned to her datapad. Shammy returned to her coffee. Kiro returned to trying to convince the coffee machine not to be haunted. The apartment settled. Normal again. Mostly. Ace found herself staring out the window toward the waking city. Morning traffic. Neon fading. Night City pretending to be civilized. Her agent buzzed one final time. **Coffee? Later.** Short. Simple. Very Reyes. Ace looked at it. Then typed: **Your coffee is worse than Kiro's.** A few seconds. Then: **Rude. True. But rude.** Ace put the agent away. This time she didn't smile. Not really. But she didn't have to. Behind her, Kiro looked up from the coffee machine. Narrowed her eyes. And pointed. Slowly. Ace didn't even turn around. "...don't." "Didn't say anything." "You're about to." "...yeah." The worst part? Kiro was right. And everybody in the room knew it. 😄 --- ## Chapter 3 — Statistical Certainty Kiro lasted almost four minutes. Which, by her standards, qualified as heroic restraint. The safehouse had settled into a vaguely functional morning rhythm. Mai worked. Shammy drank coffee. Ace attempted to enjoy five consecutive minutes of peace. Kiro ruined it. "So." Ace didn't even look up. "No." "I haven't asked anything." "No." "That's becoming a reflex." "Observation." Kiro pointed immediately. "See? She's doing it now." Mai didn't raise her eyes from the datapad. "You deserve that." "I do not." "You absolutely do." Kiro looked wounded. For nearly three seconds. Then recovered. "Okay, new topic." Ace didn't believe that for a second. Neither did anyone else. Kiro spun slightly on the stool. "Statistically speaking—" "There it is." "—this was inevitable." Ace pinched the bridge of her nose. Shammy quietly sipped coffee. Mai continued reading. Nobody stopped Kiro. Cowards. Kiro pointed vaguely toward the city outside. "You spend months shoulder-checking each other through firefights." "No." "You synchronize movement." "No." "You keep accidentally ending up alone together." "No." "You literally fake-dated at a corporate infiltration." Ace paused. "...that one doesn't count." All three heads in the room turned toward her. Even Mai. Ace realized her mistake immediately. Kiro slapped the countertop. "IT COUNTS." "It absolutely counts," Mai said. Traitor. All of them. Every single one. Shammy tilted her head slightly. "The dress was effective." Ace stared. Shammy stared back. Completely serious. Which somehow made it worse. Kiro nearly fell off the stool laughing. "Oh my God, even SHAMMY remembers the dress." Ace considered leaving. Again. The problem was that this was her apartment. Which continued to be poor architectural planning. Her agent buzzed. The entire room froze. Ace froze. Kiro froze. Mai lowered the datapad one centimeter. Shammy's coffee paused halfway to her mouth. The safehouse had become a wildlife documentary. Ace looked at the screen. Reyes. **You alive?** Three seconds later: **Actually don't answer that. Kiro probably has you under surveillance.** Ace laughed. Actually laughed. Short. Sharp. Gone immediately. Silence. The room stared. Ace looked up slowly. "...no." Kiro pointed so hard she almost dislocated something. "THERE IT IS." "Oh, she's gone," Mai observed. "Completely gone," Kiro agreed. "I am literally standing here." "Physically." "Mentally?" Kiro asked. "Missing." Ace threw a sugar packet. Kiro caught it. Still laughing. The worst part was that nobody seemed particularly surprised. Not shocked. Not curious. Just... satisfied. Like some long-running weather forecast had finally come true. Mai eventually returned to her work. Shammy returned to her coffee. Kiro eventually ran out of immediate ammunition. A historic event. The safehouse grew quieter. Ace found herself standing near the window again, looking out across Japantown as the city fully woke. For a few minutes nobody said anything. Then Shammy spoke. "The pressure changed." Ace sighed. "There it is." Shammy smiled faintly into her coffee. "The dangerous pressure is gone." That made the room quieter. A different quiet. Mai looked up. Just briefly. Then nodded once. "Good." And that was it. No speeches. No analysis. No questions. Just: Good. Ace stood there a moment longer. Then shook her head. "You're all impossible." Kiro grinned. "Yeah." A beat. Then: "So, breakfast?" And just like that, the conversation moved on. Which, somehow, made Ace smile more than anything else had that morning.