ACE 119 — FALSE SIGNATURE - World of Ace and Mai

# CHAPTER 1 — NOW Ace had one boot on. The other was somewhere under the couch. This was not, in itself, unusual. What made the situation unusual was that she could see the boot. It sat approximately forty centimeters beyond the edge of the couch, upright, perfectly visible, and somehow still outside the reach of every angle Ace had attempted during the last thirty seconds. She lay half upside down across the cushions, one leg hooked over the backrest, one arm extended toward the floor. Her fingers missed the boot by perhaps two centimeters. Again. “Fuck.” Mai looked up from the kitchen table. “You could stand up.” Ace stretched farther. “That would mean the boot wins.” Shammy, sitting on the floor near the window with a mug held between both hands, considered this carefully. “The boot does not know there is a competition.” Ace froze. “That is exactly what it wants you to think.” Mai returned her attention to the datapad in front of her. “Your footwear has achieved psychological dominance before breakfast.” “It’s almost eleven.” “That does not improve your position.” Ace managed another centimeter. Still not enough. She let her forehead drop against the couch cushion. “Mai.” “No.” “You don’t even know what I was going to ask.” “You were going to ask me to hand you the boot.” Ace turned her head enough to glare at her. “That is an outrageous accusation.” “You have been reaching for it for thirty-four seconds.” “You timed me?” “No.” A beat. “Kiro would have.” Ace pointed at her without lifting her head. “Exactly. This is why I love you more.” Mai’s eyes moved slowly over the top edge of the datapad. Shammy took a sip from her mug. “That statement contains dangerous assumptions.” Ace looked toward her. “Oh, don’t you start.” “I am not starting anything.” “You’re smiling.” “Yes.” Mai finally sighed, stood, crossed the room, picked up the boot and placed it directly on Ace’s stomach. Ace stared at it. Then at Mai. “You helped it.” “I ended the conflict.” “You negotiated with terrorism.” “I moved a boot.” “You always reduce my struggles.” Mai leaned down just enough to kiss Ace once on the forehead. “Yes.” Ace’s outrage survived approximately half a second. Then she grabbed the boot and sat up. The safehouse was quiet in the good way. Not silent. Never silent. Night City existed too aggressively outside the windows for silence to survive long. Traffic muttered beneath the building. Somewhere several blocks away, something heavy detonated with the distant flat thump of either construction, gang activity, or a vending machine losing an argument. A siren rose, changed direction, and vanished into Watson. Inside, the air smelled like coffee, warm electronics, and whatever Shammy had burned in the toaster fifteen minutes earlier. Ace had asked what it was. Shammy had said bread. Mai had said that answer was technically optimistic. The remains had been removed. No investigation had followed. Ace pulled on the second boot and leaned forward to fasten it. She was dressed for leaving without currently having any reason to leave: black cropped top, short fitted black shorts, loose black jacket thrown open, straps and hardware settled where they belonged, Triad collar cool against her neck. Mai had noticed. Of course Mai had noticed. “You are dressed.” Ace looked up. “Excellent observation.” “You have nowhere to go.” “I could develop somewhere to go.” “That is not how appointments work.” “It is absolutely how Night City works.” Shammy looked toward Ace’s jacket. “You were restless.” Ace paused. Only slightly. Mai noticed that too. Ace disliked living with people who had developed this much pattern recognition. “I was bored.” “You were cleaning both katanas at eight in the morning,” Mai said. “That was maintenance.” “You cleaned them yesterday.” “Preventive maintenance.” “You checked the edge alignment twice.” Ace narrowed her eyes. “Are you building a case?” Mai folded her arms. “I already have one.” Ace looked to Shammy for support. Shammy looked back with open sympathy. “You were restless.” “Traitor.” “Yes.” Ace finished fastening the boot. She stood, rolled her shoulders once, and went toward the kitchen. Nothing felt wrong. That was the irritating part. If something had felt wrong, Ace would have had something to push against. Instead there was only an itch under the skin. A vague lack of pressure where pressure should have been. Too much quiet between jobs. Too many hours where nothing had demanded anything. Which was good. Healthy, probably. Suspicious as hell. Mai turned the datapad slightly as Ace approached. Ace immediately leaned sideways. Mai shifted it away. Ace shifted farther. Mai moved it again. “You are behaving like a cat.” “I’m reading.” “You are failing to read.” “Because you keep moving it.” “Yes.” “That’s obstruction.” “It is privacy.” Ace looked offended. “We live together.” “That does not eliminate privacy.” “It should reduce the distance required to violate it.” Shammy made a soft sound into her coffee. Ace pointed at her. “Don’t laugh. This is serious relationship law.” Mai sat back. “Relationship law.” “Yes.” “Defined by whom?” “Me.” “Rejected.” “You didn’t even review the framework.” “I know the author.” Ace opened her mouth. Closed it. Then grinned. “Okay, fair.” Mai’s expression softened by a fraction. Ace reached past her and stole her coffee. Mai watched the theft happen. Did nothing. Ace took one sip. Stopped. Looked at the cup. Then at Mai. “This is mine.” “Yes.” “You made me coffee.” “Yes.” “And put it beside you.” “Yes.” “So I would steal it.” Mai’s mouth twitched. “No.” “You manipulated me into accepting care.” “I placed coffee on a table.” “That is exactly how it starts.” Shammy looked between them. “Would it be easier if you simply admitted you enjoy being taken care of?” Ace stared at her. “No.” “Why?” “Because then they’ll get ideas.” Mai took the cup back from Ace. “We already have ideas.” “That sounded threateningly plural.” “It was.” Ace looked delighted despite herself. Then Mai’s datapad chimed. Nothing dramatic. A small notification tone. Normal. Ace barely reacted. Mai did. Not much. A shift of the eyes. That was all. But Ace saw it because she had spent too many years learning what mattered in movements smaller than language. Mai picked up the datapad. The screen reflected briefly across her face. Ace saw the sender before the message. ROGUE. “Job?” Ace asked. Mai did not answer. The room changed. Not physically. Shammy lowered her mug. Ace’s amusement vanished. Mai read the message once. Then again. That second read mattered more than the first. Ace straightened. “What?” Mai turned the datapad. Two words. No context. No greeting. No contract identifier. No time window. No location because the location was implied by the sender. **Afterlife. Now.** Ace looked at it. Waited. There was nothing else. “That’s it?” “Yes.” Ace reached for the datapad. Mai gave it to her without resistance. That was worse. Ace reread the message. Rogue did not do this. Rogue could be abrupt. Rogue could be rude. Rogue could reduce a life-threatening operational problem to six words and a drink order. But Rogue gave time. Even when the time was insulting. Fifteen minutes. Thirty. One hour if she was feeling charitable. Enough to grab weapons, change clothes, get your head in the right place. Enough to understand there was a job before walking into the room where the job became real. Now meant something else. Now meant whatever had happened was already moving. Ace’s thumb hovered over the edge of the datapad. “Could be a fuckup.” Mai looked at her. “You do not believe that.” “No.” Shammy stood. The atmosphere around her changed so subtly that anyone else might have missed it. Ace did not. The safehouse lost warmth by degrees. Not temperature. Attention. Shammy set her mug down. “Rogue is afraid.” Mai looked toward her. “Are you sure?” Shammy shook her head once. “No.” That was more unsettling than certainty. “Pressure,” she continued. “Compressed. Not hers alone.” Ace handed the datapad back. “Fantastic.” Mai was already moving. Not panicking. Mai did not panic efficiently enough for outsiders to notice. She simply changed state. Datapad closed. Chair pushed back. Jacket collected. Weapon check. The room that had contained coffee and stolen boots thirty seconds earlier became a preparation space. Ace hated how quickly home could do that. She crossed to where her katanas rested. Both hands moved automatically. Hilt. Retention. Draw clearance. She did not pull them free. Did not need to. Shammy watched her. “You already checked them.” Ace looked over. “Preventive maintenance.” Shammy’s expression barely changed. “That joke was better ten minutes ago.” “Stress improves nothing.” Mai picked up her disruptor. Checked the charge. Checked it again. Ace noticed. “So we’re all being weird.” Mai looked at her. “We received an abnormal priority summons from Rogue.” “That’s what I said.” “You said weird.” “More emotionally precise.” Mai slipped the disruptor into place. Ace moved toward the door. Then stopped. Turned. “Do we call Reyes?” Mai answered immediately. “No.” “Kiro?” “No.” Shammy looked between them. “Why?” “Because Rogue summoned us,” Mai said. “Not the orbit. We find out what this is first.” Ace nodded. Correct. Still unpleasant. She reached for the door. Mai caught the back of her jacket. Ace stopped. Looked over one shoulder. Mai tugged the fabric once. “Zip.” Ace stared at her. “We’re going to Afterlife, not a monastery.” “You complain when the jacket catches on the katana harness.” “I complain recreationally.” “Zip.” Ace made a face but pulled the zipper halfway. Mai released her. Shammy watched this with quiet interest. Ace pointed at her. “Not a word.” “I said nothing.” “Your face did.” “My face is neutral.” “Bullshit.” Shammy smiled. Good. Tiny. But good. The banter still existed. That mattered. Ace opened the door. Watson air pushed in around them: city heat, old rain trapped in concrete, engine exhaust, food stalls, metal, too many people moving in too little space. Normal Night City. Nothing outside looked like an emergency. Ace stepped into the hall. Mai followed. Shammy pulled the door shut behind them. They made it six steps before Ace spoke. “If this is Rogue demanding we help someone move a couch, I’m charging double.” Mai did not look at her. “You will not.” “Triple.” “No.” “Emotional damages.” “No.” Shammy considered. “What if the couch is hostile?” Ace pointed immediately. “See? She understands contract law.” Mai pressed the elevator call. “If the couch is hostile, Ace may negotiate.” “With blades.” “Exactly.” The elevator doors opened. They stepped inside. Ace hit the ground-floor control. The doors closed. The cheap mirrored panel on the back wall caught all three of them. Ace. Mai. Shammy. Weapons hidden but not absent. Home still clinging to them in small traces. Ace’s jacket not fully zipped. Mai’s hair slightly imperfect from spending the morning at a table instead of in a briefing. Shammy without the outer layer she usually remembered only after someone reminded her. They looked like people who had been interrupted. They looked like themselves. Ace watched their reflection as the elevator dropped. The banter faded on its own. Not because anyone decided to stop. Because there was nothing left to joke against yet. Mai looked down at Rogue’s message again. Two words. Ace watched her face. “What are you thinking?” Mai took a second. “Rogue did not say urgent.” “No.” “She did not say problem.” “No.” “She did not say job.” Ace felt something cold settle beneath her ribs. “No.” Mai looked at her. “She only said now.” The elevator continued downward. Shammy’s voice came quietly from Ace’s other side. “Something already happened.” Nobody answered. The doors opened. Night City waited outside. Ace stepped out first. This time she was not restless. This time she had somewhere to go. --- # CHAPTER 2 — THE ROOM MOVES AWAY Afterlife was loud. That was the first thing Ace noticed. The second was that the loudness stopped around them. Not everywhere. That would have been theatrical. This was worse. The bar still carried the usual layered noise: music, glasses, boots against concrete, someone laughing too hard at something not quite funny, somebody arguing about payment near the far wall, the low mechanical throb of the place settling around too many bodies and too much chrome. But as Ace, Mai and Shammy came down the last steps and entered the main room, conversations nearest them changed shape. One cut off. Another dropped in volume. A merc Ace knew by face looked directly at her, then away too quickly. Someone farther in turned just enough to see the three of them and immediately leaned toward the person beside him. Ace kept walking. Her expression did not change. Inside, every instinct sharpened. This was not fear. Not exactly. Fear moved differently. Fear made people create distance fast. This was uncertainty. People were deciding whether distance was necessary. That was much uglier. Mai was half a step behind Ace. Shammy on the other side. Normal formation without looking like formation. Ace let her gaze travel across the room as if none of it mattered. The trick was not to stare at people who were staring at you. The trick was to let them know you had noticed anyway. At the bar, one of the regulars who had shared drinks with them less than a week earlier turned his glass slowly between both hands. Did not raise it. Did not nod. Did not smile. Ace filed that away. Another merc did nod. Too late. Too carefully. That was worse. Ace kept moving. “Okay,” she murmured. Mai did not look at her. “Yes.” “So I’m not imagining it.” “No.” Shammy’s voice came low. “They know something.” Ace’s jaw tightened. “Or think they do.” Nobody had openly challenged them. Nobody had reached for a weapon. Nobody had insulted them. That was almost comforting. Almost. Afterlife was not a place where people generally waited for formal certainty before behaving badly. If whatever rumor was moving through the room had already been accepted as fact, they would have known. This was the stage before that. The dangerous one. Ace glanced toward the nearest booth. A woman she vaguely knew from a Santo Domingo convoy job looked at Shammy, then at Ace’s collar. There. Not Ace’s face. The collar. Ace felt the shift inside herself instantly. Small. Cold. Specific. She did not touch it. That would have been too revealing. Instead she smiled at the woman. Not warmly. Not aggressively. Just enough. The woman looked away. Ace kept walking. Mai noticed. Of course she did. “Collar?” Mai asked quietly. “Yeah.” Shammy looked toward Ace. “More than one person?” Ace waited three steps. Another glance. Another set of eyes that dropped briefly to the emblem at her throat. “Yeah.” Mai’s expression flattened. That was bad. Ace preferred Mai angry. Mai angry still had edges. Mai when she went flat was building structure. And structures were usually for things that needed to be dismantled. They passed the bar. Nobody stopped them. Nobody offered them anything either. That was unusual enough that Ace almost laughed. Almost. Afterlife had rules that were not written anywhere. One of them was that somebody, eventually, always tried to talk to Ace. A job lead. A joke. A bad proposition. A good proposition. A challenge. An argument. A drink. Today the room let her pass. Ace hated that more than she would have hated being confronted. She glanced toward Mai. “You know what’s creepy?” “I have several candidates.” “Nobody has tried to fuck me yet.” Mai looked at her. For the first time since they entered, something moved in her expression. Very small. Very tired. “That is your diagnostic threshold?” “It is an extremely reliable system.” Shammy’s mouth twitched. Ace caught it. Good. “See?” Mai sighed once through her nose. “Your absence of unsolicited propositions is not admissible evidence.” “It fucking should be.” “Still not.” “Rogue could use me on retainer.” “For what?” “Atmospheric pressure.” Shammy said, completely straight, “That is usually my job.” Ace turned toward her. There it was. A tiny crack in the stress. “Goddammit.” Shammy blinked. “What?” “You know exactly what.” “I do not.” “You absolutely do.” Mai’s eyes closed for half a second. Not annoyance. Containment. Ace knew that look. She lowered her voice. “Okay. Fine. We’re still alive.” Mai opened her eyes again. “For now.” Ace’s grin vanished. There she was. The booth came into view. Rogue sat where Ace expected her to sit. Wakako did not. That stopped Ace harder than the room had. Not physically. Her stride stayed smooth. But every thought inside her reoriented at once. Rogue and Wakako together was not impossible. It was simply never casual. There were too many overlapping territories, too many histories, too many clients who preferred not to know how often fixers cooperated behind closed doors. If both of them were in the same booth waiting for the Triad, whatever had happened was not small. Rogue saw them approaching. No wave. No gesture. Wakako looked up. Her face gave nothing away. Ace felt the distance between the entrance and the booth expand. “Fuck,” she said quietly. Mai followed her line of sight. “Yes.” Shammy saw Wakako. “Oh.” Ace glanced at her. “That is not the sound I wanted.” “It was not intended to reassure you.” “Great.” They were close enough now to feel people watching them approach the booth. Ace could almost map the attention. Not every eye. Enough. Rogue knew it too. She did not seem surprised. That told Ace something else. The room’s reaction was not collateral. Rogue had expected it. Maybe not every stare. But the shape of it. Ace stepped into the booth first. Rogue’s eyes went to her collar. Just for a fraction of a second. That fraction was enough. Ace slid into the seat. Mai followed. Shammy took the position beside her. Nobody spoke immediately. Rogue had a drink in front of her. Untouched. Wakako had tea. Also untouched. Ace looked from one to the other. Then back to Rogue. “So.” Rogue said nothing. Ace waited. No one filled the silence. That was almost insulting. “Okay,” Ace said. “Either somebody died, or you two got married and this is somehow my problem.” Wakako looked at her. Rogue did not. Mai murmured, “Ace.” “What? Stress response.” Rogue finally spoke. “Several people died.” Ace’s expression changed before she could stop it. The joke collapsed. Shammy went still. Mai leaned forward slightly. “How many?” Rogue looked at Wakako. Wakako answered. “Enough.” Ace disliked the word instantly. Not because it was vague. Because Wakako had chosen it deliberately. Enough to matter. Enough to change the room. Enough to summon them now. Ace’s eyes moved to Rogue’s untouched glass again. “Your people?” Rogue’s jaw shifted. “Some.” Mai looked to Wakako. “And yours.” Wakako inclined her head once. Ace felt the first true piece of the situation fall into place. Not the whole thing. Just weight. Rogue and Wakako. Dead people. The room watching the Triad. Eyes on Ace’s collar. Ace sat back slowly. “No.” Rogue looked directly at her. Ace’s voice had gone flat now. “No fucking way.” Mai turned toward her. Ace did not look away from Rogue. “They think we did it.” Nobody answered. They did not need to. The silence did it for them. Ace laughed once. Short. Empty. “That’s fucking adorable.” Shammy looked toward her. Ace’s fingers had curled against her thigh. She forced them open. Mai noticed. Rogue noticed too. Wakako probably noticed because Wakako noticed everything worth charging for. Mai spoke. “What exactly happened?” Rogue reached beside her. A slim evidence shard sat on the table. Ace had not noticed it before. That annoyed her. Rogue touched it. The booth display activated. The first image appeared. Ace saw the body. Then the forehead. For one second, her brain refused to interpret the shape correctly. Lines cut into skin. Simple. Deliberate. Familiar. Too familiar. Ace did not move. The emblem from her collar had been carved into the dead courier’s forehead. Her own hand rose toward her throat before she could stop it. This time there was no hiding the reaction. Mai saw the movement. Shammy saw the image. Rogue watched all three of them. The room outside the booth suddenly felt very far away. Ace stared at the dead man. Then at the mark. Then at the edge of the image where dark scoring crawled across the floor in branching lines. Another display window opened beside it. A dead terminal. Burned internals. Another body. Blade trauma. Another forehead. Same emblem. Another branch of blackened concrete. Mai leaned closer. The blood had left Ace’s face. She could feel it. Rogue’s voice stayed quiet. “Now you understand the room.” Ace looked at her. “No.” Rogue’s expression hardened. Ace pointed at the screen. “No. I understand why they’re looking.” Her finger shifted toward the dead courier’s forehead. “But I don’t understand who the fuck decided to wear us like a costume.” Wakako finally lifted her tea. Did not drink. Her eyes stayed on Ace. “That,” she said, “is what you are going to explain.” Ace looked at her. Mai’s gaze stayed on the evidence. Shammy was staring at the branching burn pattern with an expression Ace could not read. Rogue reached forward. Changed the display. More photographs appeared. More dead. More signatures. Ace looked at the room outside the booth through the edge of the transparent screen. People were still watching. Now she knew why. And suddenly the distance they had created around the Triad did not feel uncertain anymore. It felt like the first draft of a verdict. --- # CHAPTER 3 — THE DEAD COURIERS Mai stopped looking at the bodies as bodies. Not because they did not matter. Because if she let herself look at them that way for too long, she would lose time. And time had already become expensive. The display filled the booth in layers. One victim. Then two. Then another angle. Then another location. Different walls. Different flooring. Different lighting. Same message. Blade trauma. The emblem. Dead electronics. Branching black scars burned into concrete, metal, tile. Ace sat beside her with one hand still near her collar. Not touching it now. Just close. Mai noticed. Filed it away. Later. Shammy had gone unnaturally quiet. Also later. Rogue watched them all. Wakako watched more carefully. Mai leaned forward. “Show me the scenes in chronological order.” Rogue’s eyes narrowed. Not in suspicion. Assessment. Then she changed the sequence. The first scene appeared. A narrow service corridor. Male courier. Face down when found. Rolled for documentation. Two deep blade injuries across upper torso. A third lower. Emblem carved after death or near enough to it that blood spread differently. Mai pointed. “Closer.” Rogue enlarged the forehead. Ace made a quiet sound beside her. Not words. Mai kept her own voice steady. “Again.” The image sharpened. The emblem was not exact. But it was close enough. Close enough that anyone who had seen Ace’s collar would recognize it immediately. Close enough that the mistake did not matter. That was the point. Mai looked at Ace. Ace’s eyes were fixed on the screen. “You want me to say it?” Mai said, “Not yet.” Ace’s jaw flexed. “Cool. Love being scheduled.” Rogue looked at her. Ace looked back. “What?” “Nothing.” “Your face says something.” “My face says you’re alive.” Ace gave her a thin smile. “Fuckin’ inspirational.” Wakako’s mouth moved by perhaps half a millimeter. Mai ignored all of them. “Next.” Second victim. Female. Parking structure. Similar wounds. Different strike angles. Same emblem. More electrical damage. Mai pointed to a terminal cabinet. “Internal diagnostic?” Rogue brought it up. Mai read. Then read again. Not enough. Something wrong. She could feel it, but feeling was not proof. “Next.” Third scene. Wakako courier. Rear access lane behind a pachinko hall in Japantown. Blood cleaned poorly by rain. The body had been recovered before full washout. Blade injury. Emblem. A broad branching scorch pattern spread from a metal utility frame across the wall. Shammy leaned forward. Finally. “Stop.” Rogue froze the image. Shammy stood slightly from the seat. Mai turned toward her. “What?” Shammy did not answer immediately. She looked at the burn pattern. Then at the wider scene. “Show the floor.” Rogue shifted the angle. Shammy’s eyes tracked the branching path. “Other side.” Another image. “Closer.” Another. Ace looked at Shammy. “You seeing something?” “Yes.” “What?” Shammy tilted her head. “I do not know yet.” Ace blinked. “That is an aggressively unhelpful answer.” Shammy glanced at her. “You asked what I see.” “I was hoping for the part after that.” Mai said, “Let her work.” Ace looked at Mai. “Fine. Everyone’s very professional today.” Wakako said, “A refreshing novelty.” Ace turned slowly toward her. “Oh, I like you.” “You have said that before.” “Still true.” Mai almost smiled. Almost. Then Shammy pointed at the wall. “This is wrong.” Rogue looked at her. “How?” Shammy frowned. Not uncertain. Searching. “The shape is right.” Ace leaned in. “That sounds bad.” “The shape is what someone would expect.” Mai’s attention sharpened. “Expected from what?” Shammy looked at her. “From stories.” Silence. Mai turned back toward the image. Now that Shammy had said it, the scene changed. Not physically. Conceptually. Expected. That word mattered. Rogue crossed her arms. “Explain.” Shammy gestured toward the branching black. “When discharge moves through a space, it responds to the space.” Wakako asked, “This did not?” “It did.” Shammy paused. “Too much.” Ace frowned. “That makes no fucking sense.” “It makes sense to me.” “Fantastic. I’m thrilled for you.” Mai looked at the damage again. “Designed branching?” Shammy nodded slowly. “Yes.” Rogue’s expression hardened. “Designed to look natural.” “No.” Shammy looked at her. “Designed to look like me.” That shut Ace up. For three full seconds. Mai noticed because three seconds was an eternity. Rogue brought up another murder scene. Then another. The same kind of branching discharge appeared at each. Not identical. But similar in emphasis. Too visually legible. Too dramatic. Too cooperative with the story someone wanted told. Mai felt something cold settle into place. This was not merely evidence. This was branding. Wakako tapped one nail lightly against her cup. “My people were not killed by theater.” “No,” Mai said. Wakako looked at her. Mai met her eyes. “They were killed by someone who also wanted an audience.” That landed. Rogue sat back slightly. Ace looked at Mai. “There she is.” Mai did not turn. “There who is?” “The woman who makes murder sound like a spreadsheet.” “Would you prefer interpretive dance?” “Yes.” “No.” “Coward.” Shammy’s mouth twitched again. Wakako actually took a sip of tea this time. Rogue stared at Ace. “How the fuck do you function?” Ace spread one hand. “Sex, caffeine, violence, emotional repression.” Mai said, “Mostly caffeine.” Shammy added, “The repression is inconsistent.” Ace looked wounded. “This is character assassination.” Rogue’s eyes moved to the corpse on the screen. “Interesting choice of phrase.” The booth went quiet again. Ace’s expression tightened. Mai hated Rogue for that. Only for a second. Because Rogue was right to do it. They did not get to joke their way around the dead. Not today. Mai leaned forward. “Show all victims. Full files.” Wakako looked to Rogue. Rogue looked back. A private exchange passed between them. Then Rogue transferred the files to the booth display. Mai counted. Not aloud. Rogue’s side. Wakako’s side. Enough to establish intent. Enough to be more than experimentation. Enough to create rumor. Ace noticed her count. “How many?” Rogue answered. “Three of mine.” Wakako said, “Two of mine.” Five. Mai stored it. Five trusted couriers. Five deliberate killings. Five scenes constructed to tell the same lie. Ace exhaled through her nose. “Five.” Nobody answered. Ace stared at the screen. “Motherfucker was busy.” Mai said quietly, “Not busy.” Ace turned. Mai looked at the dates. The gaps. The locations. The order. “Patient.” Killing dates were spread enough to avoid immediate clustering. Different districts. Different routes. Different times. No frantic acceleration. No obvious compulsion. No escalating loss of control. Whoever had done this had waited between murders. Prepared. Chosen. Ace’s eyes moved over the dates too. “Yeah.” Rogue picked up her glass. Still did not drink. “That bother you?” “Yes,” Mai said. “Why?” “Because impulsive people make mistakes quickly.” Wakako said, “And patient people?” Mai looked at the five dead couriers. “Make them earlier.” A quiet settled over the table. Not social quiet. Working quiet. Mai enlarged the victim routes. “Why these couriers?” Rogue answered first. “They were trusted.” “Trusted how?” “Sensitive packages. Sensitive information. Quiet jobs.” Wakako added, “People whose disappearance creates immediate attention.” Mai nodded. There. Not random. Not opportunity. Pressure selection. She opened the route data side by side. “No shared route.” “No,” Rogue said. “No shared client?” “Not across both groups.” “No shared district.” Wakako shook her head. Mai sat back. Ace watched her. “That face means something.” Mai said, “The common factor is not the couriers.” Ace looked at the bodies. Then at Rogue. Then Wakako. “Oh.” Shammy followed. “They belong to them.” Mai nodded. Rogue’s expression changed very slightly. She had already suspected it. Wakako too. Of course they had. Mai continued anyway. “He did not choose five couriers because they were easy to reach.” Rogue said, “He chose whose couriers.” “Yes.” Ace leaned back. “So kill people from two fixer networks, paint our shit all over them, and let Night City do the rest.” Mai looked at her. “That is the structure.” Ace’s voice sharpened. “Cute.” Shammy said softly, “No.” Ace looked at her. Shammy’s eyes were still on the dead. “No,” she repeated. “Not cute.” Ace’s face changed. The anger remained. The joke disappeared. “Yeah.” Mai looked back at the files. “Who found the first body?” Rogue answered. “One of my people.” “Who saw the scene before containment?” “Too many.” Mai looked at Wakako. “Yours?” “The first was quieter. The second was not.” Rogue said, “By the time we connected the scenes, the story was already moving.” Ace gave a humorless laugh. “Of course it fucking was.” Mai glanced through the booth wall. Afterlife beyond it. The looks. The distance. The collar. This had not started today. Today was merely when the Triad had been allowed into the room where the accusation became explicit. “How far?” Rogue looked at her. “The rumor?” “Yes.” “Far enough.” Mai hated vague answers. Rogue knew that. Which meant there was no useful precision yet. Wakako placed her cup down. “Your names have not become universal verdict.” Ace said, “Comforting.” “They have become a question.” “That’s worse.” Wakako looked at her. “Yes.” Ace’s eyes narrowed. Mai said, “Because questions spread.” Rogue finally drank. A small swallow. “Especially good ones.” Ace looked at the five bodies again. “What’s the question?” Rogue’s face stayed hard. “Did the Triad start killing couriers?” There it was. No euphemism. No diplomatic phrasing. Ace went still. Mai felt her own anger arrive at last. Not heat. Clarity. Five people dead. Their identities turned into evidence. Their reputation converted into weapon. Someone had not merely copied them. Someone had understood exactly where to place the copy. Ace’s fingers returned to her collar. This time she touched it. Thumb against the emblem. Mai let her. Wakako saw. “So,” she said. “Convince me.” Ace looked up. “Of what?” “That you did not kill them.” Rogue’s eyes shifted toward Wakako. Not warning. Not disagreement. Ace laughed once. Sharp. “You’re serious.” “Entirely.” “You think I carved this into five fucking foreheads?” Wakako’s expression did not change. “I think five dead people carry your symbol.” Ace leaned forward. Mai put two fingers against Ace’s wrist. Not restraint. Contact. Ace felt it. Stopped. Looked down. Then at Mai. Mai said quietly, “She is doing her job.” Ace’s jaw flexed. “I know.” “Then let her.” Ace held Mai’s gaze. Another second. Then sat back. “Fine.” Wakako waited. Ace looked at her. “If I wanted the city to know I killed somebody, I wouldn’t need arts and fucking crafts.” Rogue closed her eyes. Shammy looked down. Mai rubbed the bridge of her nose. Wakako’s eyebrow moved. Ace continued. “And if I did carve something into someone, it wouldn’t look like a drunk tattooist got into a fight with geometry.” Mai turned toward the enlarged emblem. There. Useful beneath the profanity. “What is wrong with it?” Ace looked at her. “Plenty.” “Specific.” Ace stared at the image. “The proportions.” Mai enlarged it further. Ace pointed. “That angle’s too wide.” Another point. “That junction is wrong.” Another. “And whoever did this copied the visible shape without understanding how the lines sit on the collar.” Rogue leaned forward. Wakako did too. Ace touched her own emblem. “Mine curves with the metal. This idiot flattened it.” Mai compared. Subtle. Not enough to clear them. But real. Ace gave Wakako a cold smile. “So no, grandma. I didn’t carve my fucking jewelry into your courier.” The booth froze. Rogue looked at Ace. Mai looked at Ace. Shammy looked at Ace. Wakako looked at Ace. Ace blinked. “What?” Mai said very softly, “Grandma?” Ace spread both hands. “Stress response.” Rogue put her glass down. Shammy’s shoulders moved once. A laugh. Tiny. Suppressed. Wakako watched Ace for another moment. Then said, “If you survive the next twenty-four hours, I may charge you for that.” Ace grinned despite everything. “There we go.” Mai’s attention snapped to the phrase. “Next twenty-four hours?” Rogue looked at her. The booth changed again. The smallest shift. But Mai felt it. They had reached the part Rogue had been waiting to say. Ace’s grin faded. Shammy went still. Wakako lifted her tea. Rogue folded her hands on the table. “Yes.” Mai stared at her. “Explain.” Rogue did not touch the display. Did not need to. Five dead people glowed between them. Five lies wearing their faces. Outside the booth, Afterlife continued pretending not to watch. Rogue looked at Ace. Then Mai. Then Shammy. “You have twenty-four hours.” Ace’s voice went flat. “For what?” Rogue answered. “To give me someone else to blame.” --- # CHAPTER 4 — TWENTY-FOUR HOURS Ace stared at Rogue. Then at the bodies on the display. Then back at Rogue. “For what?” Rogue answered. “To give me someone else to blame.” Ace’s expression did not change. That was how Mai knew the line had landed badly. Normally Ace reacted first and processed second. A grin. A curse. A joke sharp enough to cut around whatever had hit her. Now she simply looked at Rogue. Shammy’s attention shifted from the photographs to the woman across the table. Wakako folded her hands around her tea. Mai leaned forward. “Define twenty-four hours.” Ace looked at her. Rogue did too. Mai did not care. “From when?” “Now.” “Meaning?” Rogue checked the time. Then gave them the exact deadline. Tomorrow. Same hour. Mai stored it automatically. Twenty-four hours. No buffer. No interpretation. No soft edge. “What happens after?” Rogue’s gaze stayed level. “I stop holding the door shut.” Ace blinked. “What door?” Rogue looked at her. “The one with every mercenary in Night City standing on the other side.” Silence. Ace’s mouth opened. Nothing came out. That lasted perhaps half a second. Then: “Oh, fuck you.” Rogue did not react. Ace leaned forward. “No. Seriously. Fuck you.” Mai put one hand flat on the table. “Ace.” “No, I heard her.” Rogue’s voice remained quiet. “Good.” “You’re threatening to open contracts on us?” “I’m telling you what happens if I can’t stop them.” “That is not the same fucking thing.” “No.” Rogue leaned back. “That is why I chose the words I did.” Ace’s anger sharpened. “Then choose some better ones.” Mai looked at Rogue. “What contracts already exist?” “Nothing formal that I know of.” “Informal?” “People asking.” That was worse. Mai felt it immediately. Questions became offers. Offers became numbers. Numbers became contracts. Night City did not require certainty. Only enough money to make uncertainty profitable. Wakako spoke. “My people have heard similar questions.” Ace turned toward her. “And you?” “I have not opened anything.” “Yet.” Wakako’s gaze stayed on Ace. “Yet.” Shammy shifted slightly. Not tension. Weight. The word had landed there too. Mai asked, “If we fail to produce proof?” Rogue answered. “I stop telling people no.” Ace laughed once. Humorless. “Very fucking generous.” Rogue’s eyes hardened. “You think this is generous?” “I think five people are dead and somehow we’re the ones on a countdown.” “Yes.” Ace stared. Rogue leaned toward her. “Because five people are dead and every scene points at you.” Ace’s hand closed around the edge of the table. Rogue kept going. “You think I can walk out there and say, ‘Relax, I know them’?” “No.” “Good.” “You could say the evidence is bullshit.” “Can I prove that?” Ace said nothing. Rogue nodded toward the display. “Can you?” Ace’s jaw worked. Mai answered instead. “Not yet.” Rogue looked at her. “Exactly.” Wakako said, “Trust is useful in private.” Her gaze moved briefly toward the booth wall. “Reputation is public.” Mai understood. That was the trap. Rogue could believe them. Wakako could doubt the evidence. Neither mattered if the wider system did not. The psycho had not needed to convince Rogue. He had only needed to create enough doubt that Rogue could no longer protect them without appearing compromised. Mai looked at the five bodies again. “That was the objective.” Rogue nodded once. “Yes.” Ace looked toward her. Mai continued. “Not simply to frame us.” Shammy followed. “To isolate us.” Mai looked at her. “Yes.” Wakako said, “And to make our defense of you expensive.” Mai’s eyes shifted toward her. There it was. The complete shape. Dead couriers. Two major fixers. Three signatures. One accusation. Then pressure applied through Night City itself. Ace sat back slowly. “Okay.” Her voice had changed. The anger was still there. Now it had direction. “So whoever did this isn’t just some gonk with a hate boner.” Rogue’s mouth twitched despite herself. Mai said, “Apparently not.” Ace pointed at the murder images. “They know how this place works.” “Yes.” “They knew exactly which people to hit.” “Yes.” “They knew what would happen when the bodies were found.” “Yes.” Ace looked at Rogue. “And they knew you’d have to put a clock on us.” Rogue held her gaze. “Yes.” Ace smiled. There was nothing warm in it. “Now I’m interested.” Mai almost sighed. Shammy said, “You were already interested.” “I was offended.” “Is there a difference?” Ace looked at her. “Massive.” Wakako took another sip of tea. “Explain.” Ace gestured. “Offended means I want to kick somebody in the teeth.” A beat. “Interested means I want to know which teeth.” Mai closed her eyes briefly. Rogue rubbed one thumb over the rim of her glass. Wakako said, “A sophisticated distinction.” “Thank you.” “That was not praise.” “I’m taking it anyway.” Mai opened her eyes. “Rogue.” Rogue looked at her. “We need full access.” “You’ll get it.” “All raw scene material.” “Yes.” “Courier routes.” “Yes.” “Known enemies.” Rogue’s expression shifted. “That list is long.” “Give us all of it.” Wakako said, “Mine as well.” Mai looked at her. Wakako gave the smallest nod. Not trust. Authorization. Enough. “Witnesses,” Mai continued. Rogue nodded. “Available.” “Original device logs before anyone processed them.” “Yes.” “Bodies?” Rogue’s gaze hardened. “What about them?” “Ace needs wound geometry.” Ace looked at Mai. “I do?” Mai looked back. “Yes.” Ace considered. “Yeah. Okay. Fair.” “Shammy needs physical access to at least one scene with intact electrical damage.” Shammy nodded. “I do.” “Kiro needs the raw systems data.” Ace looked at her immediately. “So we’re calling Kiro.” “Yes.” “And Reyes.” Mai paused. Rogue noticed. Wakako noticed. Ace definitely noticed. Mai said, “Yes.” Ace’s expression softened by a fraction. Not enough for anyone except the people at this table to see. “Good.” Rogue asked, “Why Reyes?” Ace answered before Mai could. “Because she notices when somebody’s trying to kill us.” Rogue stared at her. Ace spread her hands. “What? She’s very observant.” Mai said, “She reads physical combat patterns differently than Ace.” Shammy added, “And differently from me.” Mai nodded. “She also gives us another field vector if this escalates before we identify the attacker.” Wakako looked at Rogue. “Five people.” Rogue looked back at her. “Still three names being framed.” Ace smiled. “Yeah.” Rogue looked toward her. “That funny?” “No.” Ace leaned back. “But whoever built this story around three people is about to have a really annoying afternoon.” That earned the smallest breath of amusement from Rogue. Gone almost immediately. Mai noticed anyway. Good. Pressure valve intact. Rogue shut down the public display and transferred the full files to a secure shard. She slid it across the table. Mai took it. “Twenty-four hours,” Rogue said again. Ace looked at the shard. Then at Rogue. “You enjoy repeating that?” “No.” “Could’ve fooled me.” Rogue’s eyes sharpened. “Ace.” Ace met them. Rogue’s voice lowered. “If this goes bad, do not assume everyone out there waits for the clock.” That killed the joke. Mai felt Ace go still beside her. Shammy’s expression changed. Wakako added, “Some will decide early.” Mai asked, “You have names?” “Not yet,” Rogue said. “Get them.” “I’m already doing that.” Ace looked through the booth wall. The room beyond. The eyes. The people pretending not to listen. Her voice went quieter. “So the twenty-four hours is the civilized version.” Rogue nodded. “Yes.” “And the uncivilized version?” Rogue looked at her. “You live here.” Ace gave a short laugh. “Right.” Mai rose. “We should go.” No one argued. Shammy stood. Ace remained seated one second longer. Looking at the bodies. Five people. Five messages. Five pieces of somebody else’s plan. Then she stood too. Before turning away, she looked at Wakako. “Twenty-four hours.” Wakako nodded. Ace smiled. “Try not to miss me.” Wakako looked at her over the rim of her cup. “I would not aim to miss.” Ace blinked. Then slowly grinned. “Oh.” Mai grabbed the back of Ace’s jacket. “No.” “I didn’t say anything.” “You were going to.” “Absolutely.” “Leave.” Ace let Mai steer her toward the booth exit. Shammy followed. Behind them, Rogue said: “One more thing.” They stopped. Ace turned first. Rogue’s gaze was on all three of them. “If you find whoever did this—” Ace raised one eyebrow. Rogue continued. “Bring me proof before you bring me a corpse.” Ace’s expression became almost innocent. “That sounds targeted.” “It is.” Shammy looked at Ace. Mai looked at Ace. Ace looked around at all of them. “What?” Rogue pointed toward the door. “Go.” Ace went. --- By the time they reached the safehouse, nineteen minutes of the twenty-four hours were gone. Mai hated that she knew exactly how many. The trip back had been fast. Not recklessly fast. Ace had suggested recklessly fast. Mai had ignored her. Shammy had supported Mai. Ace had accused both of them of cowardice and then spent seven uninterrupted minutes reviewing the murder photographs in silence. That had been more concerning than the reckless-driving suggestion. The safehouse door closed behind them. Mai locked it. Then locked the local network down to the internal secure profile. Ace dropped her jacket over the back of a chair. Shammy went straight to the larger display. Mai sent two messages. Short. No context. **SAFEHOUSE. NOW.** One to Reyes. One to Kiro. Ace saw. “Copying Rogue now?” Mai looked at her. “It was effective.” “Should I be worried about your originality?” “You should be worried about the clock.” Ace checked the time. “Twenty-three hours forty-one.” Mai looked at her. “You counted.” “You counted.” “I expected you not to.” “Why?” “Because you dislike clocks.” “I dislike clocks telling me what to do.” Ace dropped into a chair. “This one is threatening to have half Night City shoot us.” “Motivating?” “Deeply.” Shammy put the first crime scene on the main screen. The branching burn pattern spread across the wall. She stared at it. Ace watched her. “You really hate that.” “Yes.” “The fake lightning.” Shammy nodded. Ace leaned back. “Does it feel like someone forged your signature?” Shammy considered. “No.” Ace waited. Shammy looked at the black branching scars. “It feels like someone heard a story about me and decided that was enough.” Ace’s expression shifted. Mai looked toward her. That line had landed. Because the same thing had happened with the collar. Not Ace. A story about Ace. Not Shammy. A story about Shammy. Mai looked at the dead electronics. Her turn was coming. The door buzzer sounded. Ace checked the external camera. Reyes. She opened the door. Reyes stepped inside wearing a dark jacket, sidearm, and the expression of someone who had received an unexplained emergency summons and had already decided she disliked the explanation. She looked at Ace. Then Mai. Then Shammy. Nobody appeared injured. Her shoulders dropped perhaps two millimeters. Ace noticed. Of course she did. “Aw.” Reyes’s eyes narrowed. “What?” “You checked if I was bleeding.” “I checked if any of you were bleeding.” “But your eyes went to me first.” “No.” “They absolutely did.” Reyes walked past her. “Should’ve let the door stay closed.” Ace followed, grinning. “You love me.” “Currently undecided.” “Liar.” Reyes stopped at the display. Saw the corpse. The grin vanished from Ace’s face. Reyes took in the image. Forehead. Blades. Burned electronics. Branching scorch. Then she looked at Ace’s collar. “Fuck.” “Yeah.” “What happened?” Mai answered. “Someone killed five couriers belonging to Rogue and Wakako.” Reyes looked at her. “With your signatures.” “Yes.” Reyes looked back at the screen. “How long?” Ace said, “Twenty-three hours and change before Rogue stops telling people not to murder us for money.” Reyes turned. “She what?” Mai explained. Quickly. Cleanly. No dramatization. Rogue’s position. Wakako’s position. Rumor spread. Open contracts if they fail. Possibility people move before deadline. Reyes listened without interrupting. When Mai finished, Reyes looked at Ace. “Anyone touch you at Afterlife?” Ace smiled. “There it is again.” Reyes stared. Ace raised both hands. “No. Nobody touched me.” “Threatened?” “No.” “Followed?” “Not that we saw.” Reyes looked at Mai. Mai said, “We checked.” Reyes nodded. Accepted. Then turned back toward the screen. “All right.” Ace waited. Reyes did not elaborate. “What?” Reyes looked at her. “What what?” “That’s your response?” “Yes.” “Five murders, citywide framing, open-contract countdown, and you give us ‘all right’?” Reyes took off her jacket. “What do you want?” “I don’t know. Passion.” Reyes set the jacket down. “I came here armed.” Ace thought about that. “Okay, fair.” The buzzer sounded again. Kiro. Mai opened the door remotely. Kiro entered with a portable rig over one shoulder, hair slightly disordered, expression already irritated. She stopped inside. Looked around. “Who died?” No one answered. Kiro’s irritation disappeared. “Fuck.” Ace pointed at her. “See? Appropriate emotional range.” Kiro looked at the screen. Then at the five files Mai sent to her optics. Her eyes moved rapidly. “Rogue?” “Three,” Mai said. “Wakako?” “Two.” Kiro’s face tightened. “And somebody says you did it.” “Somebody says we did it very loudly,” Ace said. Kiro looked at Ace’s collar. Then the emblem cut into the victim. “Oh, that is fucking rude.” Ace pointed again. “Thank you.” Mai said, “Can everyone stop validating her?” Reyes answered, “No.” Shammy said, “Probably not.” Kiro dropped her rig onto the table. Ace looked at Mai with open satisfaction. “You’re outvoted.” “We are not voting.” “Authoritarian.” Mai ignored her. She enlarged the first set of technical logs. “Kiro. Electronics.” “Already looking.” “Raw data only.” “Obviously.” “Do not assume common origin yet.” Kiro looked offended. “I know how evidence works.” Ace leaned toward Reyes. “She’s cute when professionally insulted.” Kiro did not look away from the data. “I can hear you.” “I know.” Reyes said, “She knows.” Kiro’s eyes flicked toward them. “Is this going to be the whole twenty-four hours?” Ace smiled. “God, I hope so.” Mai put both hands on the table. “Enough.” The room stopped. Not completely. Ace still smiled. Reyes still looked unimpressed. Kiro still had something obscene ready behind her teeth. Shammy was probably suppressing another accidental contribution. But attention aligned. Mai looked at all four of them. “Five people are dead.” Silence. “The person who killed them wants Night City to believe Ace, Shammy and I did it.” Another beat. “We have less than twenty-four hours to prove otherwise.” She looked at Kiro. “Find me structure.” At Shammy. “Find me what is wrong with the lightning.” At Ace. “Find me what is wrong with the blades.” At Reyes. “Help Ace reconstruct the attacks. Ignore what the killer wants us to see.” Reyes nodded once. Mai looked across all of them. “We do not chase the story.” Ace’s smile disappeared. Mai tapped the first crime scene. “We break it.” Kiro pulled a chair closer. Shammy leaned toward the display. Reyes stepped beside Ace. Ace looked around at the four of them. Then at Mai. “Question.” Mai already regretted this. “What?” “If we clear this with, say, six hours left—” “No.” “You don’t even know the question.” “You are going to suggest sex.” Ace looked genuinely affronted. “I was going to suggest celebratory sex.” Kiro made a choking sound. Reyes looked at the ceiling. Shammy said, “That is still sex.” Ace pointed at her. “Thank you, Shammy.” “That was not support.” “Close enough.” Mai stared at Ace. Ace smiled back. “Stress response.” Mai held her gaze for several seconds. Then: “Six hours.” Ace blinked. “What?” “If we clear it with six hours left.” Mai sat down beside Kiro. “We can discuss your celebration.” Ace’s entire face lit up. Reyes muttered, “Jesus fucking Christ.” Kiro looked at Mai. “You realize she’s going to try to solve a murder faster now.” Mai opened the first file. “Yes.” Shammy considered this. “Efficient.” Ace drew one katana just far enough for the emerald edge to catch the room’s light. Her grin became sharp. “Best fucking management strategy I’ve heard all week.” Mai looked at the clock. **23:34:17** Twenty-three hours. Thirty-four minutes. And already running. “Work.” --- # CHAPTER 5 — WRONG LIGHTNING The first Wakako scene looked worse in person. Photographs had flattened it. The alley behind the Japantown pachinko hall was narrow enough that every hard surface seemed to lean inward: concrete walls, steel utility housings, service doors, exposed conduit, old drainage channels still damp from rain. At one end, a neon sign flickered through a ventilation grille and painted everything in unstable pink. At the other, Wakako’s people had sealed the access. Nobody questioned why the five of them were there. That bothered Ace. Usually somebody questioned something. Today people simply looked at her collar and stepped aside. The room moving away had followed them out of Afterlife. Ace noticed. Said nothing. Shammy stepped into the center of the alley. Stopped. Mai remained near the entrance with Kiro, already pulling raw site data from the local hardware. Reyes moved with Ace toward the marked body position. Nobody had brought the corpse back. Good. They had photographs, measurements, blood mapping, wound records. They did not need to turn a dead courier into furniture. Shammy looked up at the black branching scars across the wall. Ace watched her. No joke this time. The pattern began near a damaged utility frame at shoulder height, split across concrete in several directions, then jumped visibly toward a metal service panel. Some branches ended abruptly. Others forked again. Black. Brown. Glossy in places where heat had changed the surface. Photographs had made it look dramatic. In person it looked deliberate. Shammy moved closer. Not touching. Just looking. Mai glanced toward her. “Same reaction?” “Yes.” “Stronger?” “Yes.” Ace leaned against the opposite wall. “Helpful.” Shammy looked at her. “It is.” “To you.” “Yes.” Ace sighed. “Excellent teamwork.” Reyes crouched near the body marker. “You want her to guess fast or be right slow?” Ace looked down. “Why are those my options?” “Because you’re Ace.” “Rude.” “Accurate.” Ace gave her a look. Reyes ignored it. Shammy stepped sideways. Then again. Her eyes followed the burn pattern from different angles. Kiro watched her through the edge of her optics. “What are you looking for?” “How it moved.” Kiro nodded. “Electrical path?” “Not only.” Mai glanced at Shammy. “Environment?” “Yes.” Shammy raised one hand toward the wall. Did not touch. “This is what someone thinks lightning does.” Ace tilted her head. “Lightning does branch.” “Yes.” “That sounds dangerously like evidence against your argument.” Shammy turned toward her. “I have never used lightning this way.” Ace went still. Mai looked up from the local logs. Kiro stopped scrolling. Reyes stood. Shammy pointed toward the wall. “Never.” Her voice was calm. That made the word heavier. “I do not throw current into a wall and force it to crawl across surfaces until it looks dramatic.” Ace’s eyes shifted back to the black branches. Shammy continued. “When I use it, the discharge goes where the situation gives it somewhere to go.” She pointed toward one branch. “This crosses a surface it did not need.” Another. “This turns toward visible metal after passing a better path.” Another. “And this—” She stepped closer. “—splits where splitting makes the pattern easier to see.” Kiro moved beside her. “You’re saying somebody shaped the discharge.” “Yes.” “Hardware could do that.” “I know.” Kiro looked at the wall. “With directional emitters. Multiple points. Maybe sequential discharge.” Mai joined them. “Or one high-output system with path manipulation.” Kiro nodded slowly. “Depends how insane the power budget is.” Ace called from behind them. “We are investigating a obivious cyberpsycho.” Kiro glanced over. “Fair.” Mai looked at Shammy. “But the damage itself is real.” “Yes.” “Not painted.” “No.” “Not post-burn decoration.” “No.” Shammy’s gaze stayed on the wall. “Someone actually produced this.” Ace pushed away from the opposite side and came closer. “Using enough juice to kill somebody?” Shammy looked at her. “Yes.” That brought the dead courier back into the alley. The jokes disappeared. Ace looked toward the body marker. “Right.” Reyes crouched again. The courier had fallen near the service door. Blood mapping showed the first blade impact. Second. Collapse. Electrical event either immediately before or after. Mai said, “Order?” Kiro flicked through the local system records. “Still working.” Ace looked down at Reyes. “You seeing anything useful?” “Maybe.” “That word is spreading.” Reyes pointed at the ground. “Body wasn’t moving much when the electrical discharge happened.” Ace followed. “Because?” “No drag marks. No secondary blood shift consistent with convulsing across this much space.” Shammy looked over. “So the lightning was not primarily used to kill him.” Reyes stood. “Could’ve contributed.” Mai said, “But the visible environmental mark mattered more.” Kiro glanced at the system timestamps. “Yeah.” She enlarged a sequence. “Local grid damage happens after the terminal drops.” Mai stepped closer. “Show me.” Kiro projected the timeline. Terminal fault. Short pause. Large power event. Secondary failures. Mai read it. “Interesting.” Ace appeared beside her shoulder. “What?” Mai moved the display away before Ace could lean fully across her. Ace glared. “Still doing that?” “Yes.” “We’re solving murder.” “You are breathing directly into my optics.” “That sounds intimate.” Reyes said, “Please never say that again.” Ace turned. “Jealous?” “No.” “Liar.” Kiro didn’t look up. “She’s right, that was disgusting.” Ace smiled. “Thank you.” “That was not praise.” “I’m having a great morning.” Shammy said quietly, “Five people are dead.” Ace’s face changed immediately. “Yeah.” No irritation. No defense. Just acknowledgment. Shammy looked back to the wall. “The person who did this knows stories.” Mai watched her. “About you.” “Yes.” “Specific stories?” Shammy considered. “Probably many.” Ace folded her arms. “That narrows it down to everybody who’s ever had a drink in this city.” Reyes said, “Including you.” “I am an excellent source.” “You lie recreationally.” “I embellish.” Mai ignored them. “What kind of story produces this?” Shammy looked at the branches. “A simple one.” She pointed toward the pattern. “Shammy uses lightning.” Then toward the dead electronics. “Mai kills systems.” Then toward the body marker. “Ace uses blades.” Ace’s expression sharpened. Shammy looked at her. “That is enough if you do not know us.” Silence. There it was again. The shape underneath the evidence. Not imitation based on contact. Imitation based on reputation. Ace looked at the wall. “So somebody heard ‘Shammy does lightning’ and built whatever the fuck this is.” “Yes.” “They didn’t see you do it.” “Not like this.” Mai caught the distinction. “Could they have seen you use lightning before?” “Yes.” “But this does not reproduce observed behavior.” Shammy shook her head. “No.” Kiro looked between them. “It reproduces the headline.” Ace smiled without humor. “Cute.” Shammy looked at her. Ace stopped. “Right. Not cute.” “Thank you.” Reyes pointed at the wall. “So if I know nothing about her except stories, this looks convincing.” “Yes,” Shammy said. “And if I’ve actually seen her work?” Shammy looked at the pattern again. “It looks stupid.” Ace grinned. “There she is.” Shammy blinked. “What?” “That was mean.” “It was accurate.” “Still mean.” Mai almost smiled. Kiro absolutely did. Then her expression shifted. She moved closer to the damaged utility housing. “Wait.” Mai turned. Kiro crouched. Opened a diagnostic overlay. “What?” “There’s something underneath the discharge.” “Physical?” “Thermal.” Mai knelt beside her. Ace looked at Reyes. “This is where they start speaking machine.” Reyes nodded. “We could leave.” Ace considered. “Sex?” “No.” “Food?” “Maybe.” “See? Negotiation.” Mai said without looking back, “Stay.” Ace sighed. “Authoritarian.” Kiro expanded the thermal record reconstructed from nearby sensors. “Whatever generated this got hot.” Mai looked. “Very.” “Not normal arc equipment.” “No.” “Maybe compact system pushed far past duty cycle.” Shammy moved toward them. “How hot?” Kiro showed her. Shammy stared. “That is wasteful.” Kiro nodded. “Violently.” Ace leaned over anyway. Mai did not move the display this time. Ace frowned at the graph. “I understand none of this.” Reyes looked over her shoulder. “It got hot.” “Thank you. Finally, a professional.” Kiro pointed. “Hot enough that if this is body-integrated hardware, the user either has extremely aggressive cooling or does not give a fuck what it does to them.” Ace straightened. “Cyberpsycho.” Mai nodded. “Possible.” “Only possible?” “We do not know what platform produced it.” “Fine.” Ace pointed toward Shammy’s fake lightning. “But somebody carrying this around is not exactly buying it at a fucking vending machine.” “No.” Kiro’s expression became more focused. “I want material samples.” Wakako’s site technician, waiting beyond the cordon, looked toward them. Mai nodded once. Kiro called him over. While he prepared extraction points, Shammy walked farther down the alley. Ace followed this time. Quietly. Shammy stopped near the longest branch. Ace stood beside her. For several seconds neither spoke. Then: “Bothering you?” “Yes.” Ace looked at the wall. “Because it’s pretending to be you.” “No.” Ace waited. Shammy glanced at her. “Because someone killed a person to make other people think this is me.” Ace’s jaw tightened. “Yeah.” Shammy’s eyes dropped briefly to Ace’s collar. “And someone cut your mark into him.” Ace touched the collar once. “Yeah.” Neither said anything. The alley hummed around them. Somewhere beyond the service doors, pachinko machines chirped happily at people losing money. Night City remained offensively normal. Shammy said, “I do not like being reduced to lightning.” Ace looked at her. “No shit.” Shammy continued before Ace could turn it into a joke. “Because lightning is not the important part.” Ace watched her. “What is?” Shammy looked toward Mai. Then Kiro. Then Reyes. Back to Ace. “Knowing when.” Ace smiled. Small. Real. “Yeah.” Behind them, Kiro said: “Oh, fuck me.” Ace turned immediately. “Finally.” Kiro looked up. “No.” “You literally asked.” “It was an expression.” “Words have consequences.” Mai pointed at Ace. “Do not.” Ace grinned. “Stress response.” Kiro ignored her and enlarged the thermal data. “I found the discharge timing.” Mai came closer. “And?” Kiro looked at the scene. Then at Shammy’s fake lightning. “It wasn’t one discharge.” Mai’s eyes narrowed. “How many?” “Minimum three major pulses.” Shammy joined them. Ace and Reyes followed. Kiro showed the sequence. “First pulse establishes the primary path. Second reinforces and spreads it. Third creates most of the visible branching.” Mai stared. “Sequential shaping.” “Looks like it.” Shammy’s expression flattened. “Someone made the lightning pose.” Ace looked at her. That was such a Shammy sentence that she almost laughed. Did not. Because it was also exactly right. Mai looked toward the black marks. A killer had not simply discharged electricity. They had staged the discharge. Built the image. Made it hold still for the audience. Mai checked the clock. **19:57:42** Just over four hours gone. One signature down. Not disproven publicly. Not enough to save them. But wrong. Definitely wrong. Mai looked at Shammy. “Can you document exactly why you would never produce this pattern?” “Yes.” “Kiro, quantify everything she identifies.” “Already doing it.” “Reyes, Ace, finish physical reconstruction.” Reyes nodded. Ace looked at the corpse marker. Then at the wall. Her voice lost the last trace of amusement. “This fucker didn’t copy us.” Mai looked at her. Ace touched the emblem at her throat. “He copied what people say about us.” Shammy nodded. “Yes.” Mai looked at the dead terminal. The scorched concrete. The theatrical branching scars. The story written across the alley. “Then we stop reading the story.” Kiro closed one data layer. Mai looked toward the exit. “We find the machine that wrote it.” --- # CHAPTER 6 — WRONG DISRUPTOR Mai disliked damaged electronics. Not because they were difficult. Because dead systems lied. A living system could tell you what it had been doing. A dead one told you what survived. Those were not the same thing. The second site sat beneath a mixed-use block on the edge of Charter Hill, in a service level that smelled of coolant, old concrete and the faint metallic tang of recycled air. One of Rogue’s couriers had died there. The body was gone. Everything else remained. Rogue had apparently made several very persuasive phone calls. The maintenance staff had touched nothing beyond what was required to keep the building from catching fire. Mai appreciated that. Ace appreciated the vending machine. “This thing has noodles.” Reyes looked at her. “We’re at a murder scene.” “Yes.” “And you’re shopping.” “I contain multitudes.” “You contain poor impulse control.” Ace pressed one button. The machine considered her request. Rejected it. Ace stared. Pressed again. Nothing. “Motherfucker.” Mai walked past. “Perhaps it has standards.” Ace turned. “Excuse me?” Kiro dropped her equipment case beside the damaged access terminal. “She got you.” “Nobody got me.” “Machine did.” “The machine is compromised.” Reyes folded her arms. “By standards?” Ace pointed at all three of them. “I’m surrounded by assholes.” Shammy walked past her toward the far wall. “Yes.” Ace stopped. Looked at Shammy. “Et tu?” Shammy frowned. “I do not know what that means.” “It means betrayal.” “I agreed with an observable fact.” Kiro laughed. Mai almost did. Ace glared at the vending machine. “I’m going to remember this.” Reyes said, “Threatening appliances again?” “Only hostile ones.” Mai crouched beside the terminal. “Could everyone become useful?” Ace looked over. “I tried. Noodles refused.” “Someone murdered a courier.” Ace’s expression changed. Immediate. “Right.” She stepped away from the machine. The pressure valve closed. For now. Mai looked at the terminal. Outer casing intact. Internal hardware very much not. The first forensic team had already opened it. A row of blackened components sat behind the access plate. Some had ruptured. Others looked untouched until Kiro brought up the diagnostic overlays. Mai leaned closer. “Raw logs.” “Here.” Kiro pushed them across. Mai ignored the automated failure summary. Automated summaries were designed for technicians who wanted systems restored. Mai wanted to know how this one had died. She started at the last known stable state. Normal operation. Normal operation. Authentication request. Courier access. Door release. Then— Mai stopped. Kiro saw it. “What?” “Nothing yet.” Ace, now behind them: “That means something.” Mai did not turn. “It means nothing yet.” “That means more.” Reyes pulled Ace gently backward by the shoulder of her jacket. Ace looked at her. “What?” “Let the nerds mate.” Kiro’s head came up. Mai slowly looked over one shoulder. Ace stared at Reyes. Then her grin became enormous. “Oh, you beautiful bitch.” Reyes’s face remained perfectly straight. “I regret the wording.” “No you fucking don’t.” “I do now.” Kiro pointed at Reyes. “You don’t get to say shit like that and then act above it.” “I just did.” Shammy, examining a burned sensor housing nearby, said: “Would mating improve the analysis?” Silence. Ace made a strangled noise. Reyes closed her eyes. Kiro stared at Shammy. Mai felt the beginning of a headache somewhere behind her left eye. Shammy looked up. “What?” Ace bent forward, hands on her knees. “No. Nobody explain it. Please. I want to keep this forever.” Mai turned back to the terminal. “Work.” Ace was still laughing quietly. “Fucking worth it.” Mai rewound the sequence. Courier authentication. Door release. Then the security bus registered a short latency spike. Very short. Not enough for the building to flag as fault. Then two local sensors dropped. Then the terminal’s control layer failed. Not all at once. That mattered. Mai enlarged the timings. Kiro leaned closer. “Seeing it?” “Yes.” “Thought so.” Ace had recovered enough to approach again. “What?” Mai moved the display slightly. Ace stopped herself before leaning directly over Mai’s shoulder. Progress. “The terminal did not simply shut down.” Ace stared at the lines. “It looks shut down.” “Now.” “Insightful.” Mai pointed. “Here.” Ace looked. Nothing. Mai tried again. “This subsystem fails first.” “Yep.” “Then this.” “Sure.” “Then the security bus.” “I’m agreeing very professionally.” Reyes appeared beside Ace. “She has no idea.” “Absolutely none.” Mai looked at Reyes. “Would you like to explain it?” “No.” “Then stop helping.” “Gladly.” Kiro hid a smile. Mai expanded the sequence further. “The damage propagates.” Ace finally became serious. “Your disruptor doesn’t?” “Not like this.” Shammy looked over. Mai heard her own words echoed in the room before anyone said them. Wrong behavior. Right appearance. Mai stood. “Mine attacks the system state.” Kiro nodded. “This thing attacked components.” “Yes.” Ace frowned. “Difference for people who didn’t spend childhood licking circuit boards?” Kiro looked offended. “I did not—” Mai held up one hand. “Please do not answer that.” Ace brightened. “Oh, now I absolutely want—” “No.” Reyes said, “Focus.” Ace sighed. “Everyone hates joy.” Mai pointed at the damaged terminal. “When I fire, I am not simply putting excessive energy into electronics until they die.” Ace nodded. “Okay.” “I disrupt how the system functions.” “Okay.” “The visible failures are consequences.” Ace looked at the blackened components. “And this?” Mai’s mouth tightened. “This is someone forcing the consequences.” Kiro nodded. “Like Shammy’s wall.” Shammy came closer. Mai looked at her. “Yes.” That was the first moment Mai truly disliked what she was seeing. Not professionally. Personally. Someone had done to her exactly what they had done to Shammy. Taken the visible result. Ignored the mechanism. Built backward from the legend. Mai opened the second diagnostic set. A lighting controller. Same scene. Different hardware. The sequence was similar. Overvoltage. Control fault. Signal collapse. Thermal event. Dead. She opened a nearby camera node. Different again. Same general pattern. Kiro saw it too. “Fuck.” Ace leaned against the table. “Good fuck or bad fuck?” “Technical fuck.” “That category needs subdivisions.” “Bad.” “See? Easy.” Mai compared the three. “This was tuned.” Kiro nodded. “Yeah.” Reyes looked between them. “Tuned how?” Kiro pointed at the systems. “It doesn’t just blast everything equally.” Mai continued. “It produces failures selected to resemble a disruptor event.” Reyes looked at the dead terminal. “So whoever built it knows what the aftermath is supposed to look like.” “Yes.” “But not what actually causes it.” “Yes.” Ace’s expression hardened. “The headline again.” Mai looked at her. Ace pointed toward the terminal. “Shammy uses lightning.” Then toward Mai. “Mai kills electronics.” Then toward herself. “Ace uses blades.” Nobody said anything. Ace’s mouth twisted. “Fuck, I hate being predictable.” Reyes looked at her. “You’re not.” “That sounded almost nice.” “It wasn’t.” “There’s my girl.” Reyes rolled her eyes. Mai went back to the logs. The pattern was becoming clearer. The killer knew enough to be convincing. That was not the same as knowing enough to be accurate. And most of Night City would never see the difference. That was the real danger. Mai opened Rogue’s scene photographs side by side. Dead screens. Blackened circuitry. Security collapse. Anybody with passing knowledge of the Triad would see her name immediately. Disruptor. Mai. Case closed. She hated how effective it was. Kiro sat beside her. “Can we prove it?” Mai did not answer immediately. “Technically?” “Yeah.” “Yes.” Kiro waited. Mai looked toward the doorway. Toward a city already asking whether they had killed five people. “But proving this is not my weapon does not prove I was not here.” Kiro’s expression flattened. “Right.” Ace looked over. “What?” Mai turned the display toward the others. “We can demonstrate that the electrical damage is inconsistent with my disruptor.” Shammy nodded. “As mine was.” “Yes.” “But?” Mai looked at Ace. “A prosecutor does not need the real weapon if they can argue I used another one.” Ace stared. Then swore. “Fuck.” Reyes crossed her arms. “So each fake signature being wrong helps us.” “But doesn’t clear us,” Kiro finished. Mai nodded. “Not alone.” Ace looked irritated enough to attack the concept physically. “That is fucking bullshit.” “It is evidence.” “It is bullshit-shaped evidence.” “Still evidence.” “God, I hate you when you’re reasonable.” Mai raised an eyebrow. “Only when?” Ace paused. Then pointed. “Trap.” Mai turned back to the terminal. Kiro leaned toward her. “What are you thinking?” “Someone built this from observable effects.” “We know.” “No.” Mai enlarged the thermal data. “More specifically.” Kiro followed. Mai pointed at the sequence. “This is inefficient.” “Very.” “Hot.” “Yep.” “Damaging to the emitter if repeated.” “Probably.” “Power hungry.” Kiro’s eyes sharpened. “Definitely.” Mai pulled up the thermal signatures Kiro had taken from the false lightning site. Two windows. Side by side. Different events. Different systems. Kiro stopped breathing for a second. Ace noticed. “Ooh.” Mai ignored her. Kiro zoomed both graphs. “Wait.” Shammy came around the table. Reyes followed. Ace immediately inserted herself between them until Mai elbowed her aside. “Personal space.” “We’re all looking at the same thing.” “You are small enough to look around people.” “That is discrimination.” Mai pointed. “Here.” Kiro was already comparing. The lightning generator had produced extreme thermal spikes. The fake disruptor had done the same. That alone meant nothing. High-output hardware got hot. But— Kiro overlaid the cooldown slopes. Adjusted scale. Normalized for estimated output. Her mouth opened slightly. Mai felt it too. Not proof. Something. “What?” Reyes asked. Kiro raised one finger. “Give me a second.” Ace whispered loudly: “Nerd mating.” Kiro did not even look up. “Fuck off.” Reyes said, “I created a monster.” Ace looked delighted. “No, you fed an existing one.” Mai stared at the overlay. “Cooling behavior.” Kiro nodded. “Maybe.” “Same design family?” “Maybe.” “Same platform?” “Too early.” Ace pointed between them. “You both said maybe. I’m documenting this historical event.” Mai looked at her. “Ace.” “Working.” “You are not.” “I’m morale.” Reyes said, “You’re something.” Ace grinned at her. Mai let them have it. Five seconds. Then: “Kiro.” “Yeah.” “Pull component material analysis from both scenes.” “Already queued.” “Any common fabrication signatures?” “Could take a while.” “We have less than eighteen hours.” “I’m aware.” Mai looked at the clock. **17:42:09** Just under six and a half hours gone. The number felt obscene. They had found two false signatures. They still did not have a killer. Mai opened another data layer. Kiro suddenly swore. Not playfully. “Fuck.” Everyone looked at her. Ace did not make the obvious joke this time. Kiro enlarged a fragment from the camera node. “Look at this.” Mai leaned in. A tiny waveform. Power regulation noise. Barely above sensor threshold. Not part of the building. Not part of the terminal. A transient artifact recorded just before the system died. Mai frowned. “What am I looking at?” Kiro answered. “Something feeding the weapon.” “External power?” “Maybe internal conditioning.” “Portable?” “Has to be.” Ace said, “English.” Kiro pointed at the waveform. “The thing that killed this terminal has a heartbeat.” Ace became still. Mai looked at Kiro. “Careful.” “I know.” Kiro enlarged it. “It could be converter noise. Regulator cycling. Capacitor handling.” “Could be environmental contamination.” “Could.” “But you don’t think it is.” Kiro’s eyes stayed on the trace. “No.” Shammy looked toward the ruined hardware. “Did the lightning machine have one?” Kiro froze. Then immediately opened the Wakako site data. Mai moved beside her. The others crowded in. This time Mai did not complain. Kiro searched. Filtered. Removed local grid noise. Removed sensor artifacts. Nothing. Then— A trace. Faint. Different amplitude. Same kind of periodic irregularity. Kiro stared. Ace looked at her face. “That’s not a maybe face.” Kiro did not answer. Mai compared both. Not identical. Good. Identical would have been too easy. But related. A pulse spacing quirk. A regulation correction occurring slightly too late. Then compensating too hard. A design behavior. Perhaps. Mai felt the investigation shift under her feet. “Same power-management philosophy.” Kiro glanced at her. “That is the nerdiest possible way to say it.” “Am I wrong?” “No.” Ace raised a hand. “I have a translation.” Nobody invited her. She continued anyway. “Same asshole built both?” Kiro shook her head. “Not proven.” “Same asshole bought both?” “Also not proven.” “Same asshole is wearing both?” Kiro paused. Mai looked at her. There. The possibility. Heavy power. Thermal abuse. Portable systems. One technical philosophy beneath two different theatrical signatures. Mai said: “Do not jump.” Kiro nodded. “I’m not.” Ace looked between them. “You’re both visibly jumping while saying not to jump.” “We have a correlation,” Mai said. “Between?” “The systems generating Shammy’s signature and mine may share underlying architecture.” Ace’s eyes narrowed. “May.” “Yes.” “So fake lightning and fake disruptor might be coming from the same machine.” “Possibly.” Reyes looked at the scene. “Or the same person carrying two machines.” Mai nodded. “Yes.” Shammy said, “Someone who wanted three signatures.” The room quieted. Ace touched her collar. There was still one left. Blades. Mai looked toward her. Ace understood immediately. “My turn.” Reyes pushed away from the wall. “About fucking time.” Ace looked offended. “You say that like watching them flirt with dead electronics hasn’t been riveting.” Kiro said, “We were not flirting.” Ace stared. Then looked at Reyes. Then Shammy. Then Mai. “Oh, this is too easy.” Mai stood. “Do not.” Ace started counting on her fingers. “Hot hardware. Repeated pulses. Weird discharge. Aggressive power delivery—” Reyes grabbed the back of Ace’s jacket and steered her toward the exit. Ace kept talking while walking backward. “Come on, that shit writes itself.” Kiro packed the portable rig. “You’re twelve.” “I’m under stress.” “You’re horny under stress.” Ace grinned. “Now we’re doing science.” Shammy followed them. “That was already known.” Ace turned toward her. “Shammy, I fucking love you.” “Yes.” Reyes stopped. Ace nearly walked into her. Shammy blinked. “What?” Reyes looked at Mai. Mai looked at Kiro. Kiro looked at Shammy. Ace slowly smiled. Shammy frowned. “I said something again.” Ace wrapped one arm around Shammy’s waist as they headed for the exit. “Never change.” Shammy considered. “I was not planning to.” Mai followed. Despite herself, she smiled. Only briefly. Then she looked back at the murdered courier’s dead terminal. The smile vanished. Someone had built a weapon that could make a room look like Mai had passed through it. Not by understanding her. By reproducing the scars she left behind. And underneath those scars, perhaps, the same machine language already found beneath Shammy’s counterfeit lightning. Two signatures. One possibility beginning to form. Mai checked the clock again. **17:31:26** The city did not care that they were making progress. The clock certainly did not. She looked toward Ace and Reyes walking ahead. Ace was already talking with her hands. Reyes was already regretting whatever she had agreed to. Good. Mai wanted to know what the killer thought Ace looked like. More importantly— she wanted to know what he had gotten wrong. --- # CHAPTER 7 — WRONG BLADES Ace disliked autopsy photographs. Not because of blood. Blood was information. Bodies were information. Injuries were information. She had spent enough of her life around all three to stop pretending otherwise. What she disliked was stillness. Movement made sense. Still photographs took the part she understood best and removed it. The forensic room Rogue had arranged for them was clean, cold and offensively bright. One wall carried three-dimensional reconstructions of the attack. Another held wound mapping. The center table remained empty. The courier had already been released for burial. Ace was glad. She did not need him there. She needed the space he had occupied. Reyes stood beside her with both hands in her jacket pockets. Mai and Kiro had taken the technical files to a station in the corner. Shammy sat on the edge of another table, watching. Ace stared at the first reconstructed body. Three blade wounds. Two immediately serious. One probably fatal. No hesitation cuts. No wild hacking. No evidence of somebody losing control. Ace tilted her head. Reyes watched her. “Well?” Ace did not answer. She walked around the reconstruction. Stopped behind it. Moved back. Crouched. Reyes waited. Mai glanced over once. Did not interrupt. Ace raised one hand. “Show me the corridor.” Kiro pulled up the scene scan around the body. Walls appeared. Door. Utility piping. Blood placement. Foot impressions where preserved. Ace walked into the reconstructed space. Reyes followed. Ace pointed. “He comes from there.” Reyes looked. “Why?” “Angle.” “Could’ve pivoted.” “Could.” Ace moved three steps. Turned. Raised an imaginary blade. Then stopped. “No.” Reyes folded her arms. “No what?” “Too clean.” “That sounds like praise.” “It isn’t.” Ace reset herself. “Courier comes through the door.” She moved as the victim. “Sees him.” Paused. “Maybe half a second.” Reyes looked at the reconstructed blood. “Enough to react?” “Enough to know something’s wrong.” Ace shifted. “First strike comes high.” Her hand traced the line without touching the projection. “Then this.” Second line. “And this asshole—” She stepped back. Frowned. Reyes waited. Ace repeated it. First strike. Second. Third. Then again. Shammy said: “You made the same face three times.” Ace looked over. “What face?” Shammy demonstrated a surprisingly good approximation of Ace looking personally insulted by geometry. Ace stared. Reyes made a quiet sound. Ace pointed at her. “Don’t.” “I didn’t say anything.” “You were about to.” “I wasn’t.” “Your face was.” Reyes looked at Shammy. “Apparently faces can testify now.” Ace ignored them. Reset. Again. First. Second. Third. She stopped. “Oh, fuck off.” Mai looked over. “Discovery?” “Insult.” “Useful insult?” “Possibly.” Kiro turned in her chair. “We’re developing categories.” Ace pointed at the attack reconstruction. “He’s posing.” Reyes looked at it. “The killer?” “Yes.” “While murdering somebody.” “Yes.” Shammy frowned. “That seems inefficient.” Ace turned toward her. “Exactly.” She moved through the sequence again. “This first cut is good.” Reyes came closer. “How good?” “Very.” That mattered. Ace did not say very lightly when discussing blades. “He knows how to use them.” Mai stood and approached. “Professionally trained?” “Maybe.” “Military?” “Maybe.” “Street?” “Could be.” Mai’s eyebrow rose. Ace scowled. “Blades don’t come with fucking résumés.” Reyes said, “You’re very informative today.” “Fuck you.” “Better.” Ace gestured to the first wound. “This is efficient. Fast. Good angle. No wasted reach.” Then the second. “This is also good.” Then the third. “This is stupid.” Kiro joined them. “Why?” Ace stared at the wound mapping. “Because he doesn’t need it.” Reyes nodded slowly. “Victim’s already down.” “Probably.” “Threat neutralized?” “Almost certainly.” Mai looked toward the blood-position reconstruction. “But he makes another strike.” “Yes.” “Why?” Ace smiled without humor. “Because I use two fucking swords.” Silence. Kiro looked at the wounds again. Then at Ace. “Oh.” Ace spread her hands. “Yeah. Oh.” Shammy came closer. “There are three wounds.” “Three recorded.” “Then why two swords?” Ace walked backward to the killer’s likely position. “Because the second strike changes side.” She mimed the first blade. Then the second with her opposite hand. “Look at the entry angles.” Reyes came around her. “Could be one weapon switched hands.” “Could.” “You don’t believe that.” “No.” “Why?” Ace gestured at the timing reconstruction. “Too fast.” Mai said, “Twin weapons.” “Yep.” Kiro looked toward Ace’s hips. Her actual katanas rested there. “Oh, that is fucking theatrical.” Ace gave her a grim smile. “Now you get it.” She demonstrated. One strike. Second from the opposite side. Then the unnecessary finishing slash. Reyes watched her feet. Not her hands. Ace noticed. Kept going. Again. Reyes said: “Stop.” Ace froze. “What?” “Do it again.” Ace reset. First. Second. Third. Reyes frowned. “No.” Ace lowered her hands. “No what?” “That isn’t what the reconstruction says.” Ace’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.” Reyes stepped into the projected space. “You’re moving through him.” Ace stared. Reyes pointed to Ace’s position. “First strike, you’re already changing line.” She shifted. “Second happens because you kept moving.” Another shift. “Third—if you needed one—would come from wherever that movement put you.” Ace’s irritation vanished. Reyes pointed at the attacker reconstruction. “This guy stops.” Ace looked. Reyes moved into the estimated killer position. “First cut.” She stepped. “Second.” Then planted both feet. “Then he resets.” Ace’s expression hardened. Reyes mimed the final strike. “He wants the third one to come from here.” Ace stared. Because Reyes was right. She had been looking at blades. Reyes had been looking at the body carrying them. Mai saw it too. “He breaks his own momentum.” “Yes,” Reyes said. Ace walked through the reconstruction again. Slowly now. “He cuts.” Step. “Cuts.” Then stopped. Her face twisted. “And fucking presents.” Kiro blinked. “Presents?” Ace planted herself deliberately. Squared enough to create a silhouette. Raised both imaginary weapons. Reyes nodded. “That.” Shammy stared. “He pauses to look like you.” Ace’s eyes went cold. “Yes.” A beat. Then: “Badly.” Reyes almost smiled. Ace caught it. “Oh, eat my ass.” “There she is.” “You found a murderer insulting me aesthetically.” “I’m helping.” “This is deeply personal now.” Mai murmured, “As opposed to the emblem carved into dead people?” Ace paused. “Fair.” The humor fell away again. She looked at the reconstructed courier. “Fuck.” For several seconds nobody spoke. Ace walked around the body once more. Less performance now. More work. “Second scene.” Kiro changed the projection. Different courier. Different location. Different wounds. Ace started again. Reyes beside her. Mai and Shammy watching. Kiro controlling the reconstruction. First strike. The courier turned. Defensive wound. Second strike. Collapse. Ace followed the attacker’s line. Stopped. Backed up. Repeated. “Same shit.” Reyes said, “Not identical.” “No.” “Better here.” “Yes.” “More movement.” “Yeah.” Ace replayed it. Then pointed. “But there.” Reyes saw it. “Reset.” “Yep.” Mai said, “Again for appearance.” Ace nodded. “He knows enough not to copy the same sequence.” Kiro asked, “But he repeats the same mistake.” Ace looked at her. “Not a mistake to him.” That landed. Shammy said quietly: “He thinks it is part of you.” “Yes.” Ace stood inside the reconstruction. Looked down at where the victim had fallen. “He thinks the pause matters.” Mai crossed her arms. “Why?” Ace glanced toward her. “Because people remember pauses.” Kiro frowned. “Explain.” Ace shrugged. “A fast fight looks like nothing if you don’t know what you’re watching.” She drew one katana. Not threatening. Slowly. The emerald edge caught the forensic room’s white light. Everyone watched. Ace moved. One step. The blade turned. Stopped. Then she was somewhere else. Kiro blinked. Ace lowered the sword. “That.” Kiro looked annoyed. “I missed half of it.” “Exactly.” Ace sheathed the katana. “Witnesses remember the bits their brain can package.” She planted her feet dramatically. Spread her hands. “Little psycho sword goblin stands there with two glowing fucking blades.” Reyes said, “Goblin?” Ace looked at her. “Petite murder icon.” “Better branding.” “Thank you.” “That was not praise.” Ace smiled. Shammy said, “You do sometimes stand still after.” Ace looked at her. “Traitor.” “You do.” “Usually because the fight is over.” “Yes.” “Exactly.” Mai caught it. “The observer sees the end state.” Ace nodded. “And turns it into the technique.” Kiro said, “Like Shammy’s lightning.” Shammy nodded. “And Mai’s damaged systems.” Mai looked at the reconstructed attacker. “Visible outcome mistaken for mechanism.” Ace pointed at her. “Yes.” Then frowned. “I hate when you make my rage academically coherent.” “It saves time.” “Still hate it.” Reyes moved to the second body position. “There’s something else.” Ace joined her. “What?” Reyes pointed at the attacker's path. “He’s tall.” Ace looked at her. “Most people are.” Reyes ignored that. “Longer reach than you.” “Again, most fucking people.” “Ace.” “What?” “Stop being five feet of defensive statistics.” Ace stared. Shammy said: “Less.” Ace slowly turned. Shammy looked at her. “What?” Kiro coughed into one hand. Mai looked away. Reyes closed her eyes briefly. Ace pointed at Shammy. “That was malicious.” “No.” “That makes it worse.” Reyes touched Ace’s shoulder. “Focus, pocket apocalypse.” Ace looked up at her. “Pocket apocalypse?” “Want me to change it?” Ace considered. “No.” “Good.” Reyes returned to the attacker path. “His reach is longer. His stride is longer. But he keeps compressing both.” Ace became serious. She replayed the strike. There. “Fuck.” Mai leaned closer. “He is shortening his movement?” “Yes.” Reyes nodded. “Sometimes.” “To imitate Ace.” “Looks like it.” Ace’s face became genuinely offended. “Oh, fuck this guy.” Kiro laughed before she could stop herself. Ace turned. “No. Fuck you too.” “I’m sorry.” “You are not.” “I’m really not.” Ace stepped into the killer position and exaggerated a shortened stride. “That’s what he thinks I do?” Reyes said, “Apparently.” “I don’t move short because I’m short.” “No.” “I move exactly as far as I fucking need.” “Yes.” Ace stabbed a finger toward the reconstruction. “This asshole is cosplaying my inseam.” Kiro bent over the workstation. Shammy looked fascinated. Mai covered her mouth. Reyes remained almost straight-faced. Almost. Ace stared at all of them. “Five people are dead and somehow I’m still being bullied.” Mai recovered first. “You began the appliance dispute.” “That vending machine attacked me.” “Of course.” Ace turned back to the wounds. The humor drained naturally. Again. That was becoming the rhythm of the day. Laugh. Breathe. Look at the dead. Work. She studied the third scene. This one had the clearest blood geometry. Ace replayed. Stopped. Replayed. Reyes stood behind her now. Watching shoulders. Hips. Feet. Not blades. “Here,” Ace said. Reyes nodded. “Yeah.” Mai asked, “What?” Ace pointed at the final wound. “He changes grip.” Kiro said, “Can you tell that from the wound?” “Not alone.” Reyes added, “Foot position.” Ace glanced at her. “Yep.” Mai waited. Ace demonstrated. “He comes in conventional.” Strike. “Then rotates here.” Second. “Then switches because—” She stopped. Her face changed. Reyes saw it too. “Oh.” Kiro looked between them. “I hate when you two do that.” Ace barely heard. She repeated the sequence. Again. Then once more. “He wants the emblem visible.” Mai’s expression sharpened. “What?” Ace walked to the reconstructed corpse. The forehead marking had been added after the killing. She looked at the attacker’s likely position. “He finishes here.” Reyes stepped beside her. “Facing the body.” “Yes.” “That gives him access.” “Yes.” Kiro said, “You thought the emblem came later anyway.” “It did.” Ace crouched beside the projected head. “But look at how he ends the fight.” Mai understood. “He positions himself for the next act.” “Yes.” Shammy said, “Carving it.” Ace nodded. “He isn’t losing control.” Nobody joked. The room changed. Because that mattered. A lot. Ace rose. “The extra strike.” Reyes looked at her. “Not impulse.” “No.” “The reset.” “Deliberate.” “The positioning.” “Deliberate.” Mai looked across the three scenes. “No frenzy.” Ace shook her head. “No.” Kiro said, “Cyberpsycho does not always necessarily mean rage.” “No,” Mai said. “But people expect it.” Ace stared at the evidence. “This one doesn’t give a fuck what people expect him to act like.” Reyes crossed her arms. “He waits long enough to stage the body.” “Yes.” “He controls the fight.” “Yes.” “He controls himself.” Ace looked at her. “Yes.” There was something in Reyes’s expression now. Not recognition. Concern. A different kind. “We should stop assuming the mistakes are accidents.” Ace’s eyes narrowed. Mai asked, “Meaning?” Reyes pointed at the reconstructed attacker. “He copied Ace wrong.” Then toward the files from the previous scenes. “Copied both of you wrong.” Shammy corrected quietly: “Copied what he thinks we are.” Reyes nodded. “But everything he needed to do to create those wrong copies?” She looked around at them. “He did very fucking carefully.” Silence. That was the important distinction. The imitation was ignorant. The execution was not. Ace looked at the wounds again. “He’s good.” Mai asked, “How good?” Ace took longer this time. “Good enough that I don’t want any of us assuming the fake blades make him a fake swordsman.” Reyes nodded once. Mai stored that. Kiro returned to her workstation. “Can we connect the blades to the other hardware?” “Maybe,” Mai said. Ace looked at her. “Oh, there it is.” “What?” “The forbidden word.” Mai ignored her. Kiro opened the scene scans. “Blade dimensions first.” Ace gave estimates based on wound depth, entry width and attack geometry. Not exact. Enough. Kiro modeled. Two long deployable weapons. Likely forearm-mounted or tightly carried. Heavy enough to produce the wounds. Possibly powered extension. Ace stared at the model. “No.” Kiro stopped. “What?” “Make them longer.” “How much?” Ace adjusted. “There.” Kiro looked at the result. “That’s a lot of blade for integrated arms.” Mai stepped closer. “Unless the forearms are heavily modified.” Reyes said, “Like the power systems.” Kiro froze. Mai did too. Ace saw it. “Do the thing.” Kiro looked at her. “What thing?” “The nerd thing where you suddenly stop hearing normal people.” Kiro turned back to the model. Mai was already pulling up thermal-platform estimates. Shammy approached. Reyes looked at Ace. “You realize calling them nerds while desperately needing them is risky.” Ace nodded. “I trust our love.” Mai said from across the room: “Do not.” Ace grinned. Kiro overlaid likely blade housings against the estimated dimensions of the electrical equipment. Then fake-disruptor power demand. Then cooling requirements. The model became ugly very quickly. Large forearms. Reinforced shoulders. Central power handling. Thermal management. Capacitor volume. Actuator space. Armor. Reyes stared. “That’s not three toys.” Mai’s voice went quiet. “No.” Kiro rotated the model. “That could be one body.” Nobody spoke. Ace looked at the projected silhouette. Broad. Heavily modified. Both forearms capable of housing long deployable blades. Internal power architecture large enough to support brief high-energy discharge. Additional emitter structures possible. A body built around systems. Not systems added casually to a body. Shammy said: “He carries the story.” Ace looked at her. “Yes.” Kiro zoomed in. “If our power correlation is real, fake lightning and fake disruptor could be sharing the same internal bus.” Mai nodded. “And the arm modifications required for the blades provide physical volume for emitter systems.” Reyes said, “So one person walks into a scene.” Ace continued. “Kills with the blades.” Shammy: “Produces lightning.” Mai: “Destroys the electronics.” Kiro finished: “And leaves all three signatures.” The room became very still. Ace stared at the silhouette. Five murders had stopped looking like five scenes. They were becoming one machine. One person. One patient bastard carrying a counterfeit Triad inside his body. Ace touched her collar. The emblem at her throat felt suddenly heavier. Reyes noticed. She always noticed. “Hey.” Ace looked at her. Reyes nodded toward the projection. “That isn’t you.” Ace’s mouth twisted. “No shit.” “I know.” Reyes held her eyes. Ace understood what she actually meant. Not the blades. Not the emblem. Not the body count. The thing on the screen could collect every recognizable piece of her silhouette and still miss the person wearing it. Ace exhaled. “Yeah.” Then looked at the model again. “Also his footwork is fucking embarrassing.” Reyes smiled. There. Tiny. Perfect. “Feel better?” “Immensely.” Kiro checked the clock. Her expression soured. **15:58:11** Ace saw it. “Fuck.” Just over eight hours gone. Mai closed the technical overlays. “We have three signatures that are wrong in three different ways.” Shammy said, “But wrong for the same reason.” Mai nodded. “Observable result copied without underlying behavior.” Kiro gestured toward the body model. “And possibly one platform producing all of them.” Reyes looked at the murder reconstructions. “Still not enough.” “No,” Mai said. Ace’s jaw tightened. They could explain the trick. They could not yet name the magician. Mai looked at Kiro. “Take everything back to the safehouse.” Kiro nodded. “Cross-scene platform analysis.” “Yes.” “Materials too.” “Yes.” “Power-management traces.” “Obviously.” Ace raised one finger. “Nerd mating.” Mai looked at her. Ace lowered the finger. “Sorry.” Reyes stared at her. Ace whispered: “Not sorry.” “I know.” Shammy stepped beside the projected attacker. Its silhouette towered over her. “He studied Ace.” Ace looked at it. “Yeah.” Mai corrected: “He studied evidence about Ace.” Ace frowned. Kiro looked up. Mai’s gaze moved between the three counterfeit signatures. “Public footage. Witness descriptions. Scene reports. Rumors.” Reyes added, “Whatever people say after surviving long enough to drink about it.” Ace stared at the silhouette. Then smiled very slightly. Not humor. Recognition of the shape of the problem. “He doesn’t know how I fight.” Mai looked at her. “No.” “He knows how people describe watching me fight.” “Yes.” Shammy said: “He does not know how I use lightning.” Kiro nodded toward the dead systems. “He knows what people think her disruptor leaves behind.” Mai looked at all of it. Three imitations. Three misconceptions. One remarkable amount of preparation. “Then we have been asking the wrong question.” Ace turned. “What question?” Mai shut down the individual scene reconstructions. Only the projected body remained. A hypothetical platform carrying all three counterfeits. “We have been asking how someone learned our signatures.” Kiro’s eyes narrowed. Mai looked directly at the silhouette. “We should be asking how long he spent collecting the stories.” Ace's expression changed. Reyes saw it. So did Shammy. Patient. Controlled. No frenzy. Multiple murders spaced apart. Complex systems designed around observations gathered from the outside. Someone who could wait. Ace looked at Mai. “Safehouse.” Mai nodded. Kiro packed her rig. Reyes grabbed her jacket. Shammy stepped away from the projection. Ace remained for one second longer. Looking at the counterfeit body. Twin blades. Power. Lightning. Disruption. Everything a stranger might list if asked what the Triad was. Ace smiled at it. Cold. “You forgot four people.” Then she turned and followed the others out. --- # CHAPTER 8 — ONE PLATFORM Kiro had six screens open before anyone else had properly sat down. Seven by the time Ace reached the couch. Eight when Ace took one look at them and said: “That seems unhealthy.” Kiro did not look up. “So does your personality.” Ace stopped. Considered. “Fair.” She dropped onto the couch beside Reyes. Mai put the evidence shard on the main table. Shammy closed the safehouse door behind them. For several seconds there was only movement. Gear coming off. Weapons staying close. Water. Coffee. Data moving from portable systems into the isolated safehouse environment. Then Kiro stopped. “Food.” Mai looked toward her. “What?” “Everybody.” Ace raised one hand. “I support this initiative.” Kiro kept working. “I’m serious.” “So am I.” “You’ve had coffee and whatever you stole from Reyes’s bag.” Reyes looked at Ace. Ace immediately looked innocent. “You stole my food?” “Stole is an emotionally loaded word.” “My protein bar.” “You left it unattended.” “In my jacket.” “Dangerous neighborhood.” Reyes stared. Ace smiled. Kiro pointed at Mai without looking away from the screens. “You too.” Mai frowned. “I ate.” “When?” Mai paused. Ace leaned toward Reyes. “Got her.” Mai looked at Ace. “You are not helping.” “I’m witnessing.” Shammy opened the kitchen storage. “I will make something.” Ace brightened. “See? Functional household.” Reyes glanced around the safehouse. “Is this what you call functional?” “No.” Ace leaned closer. “But saying it makes Mai twitch.” Mai did not twitch. Which Ace found disappointing. Kiro finally looked away from the data. “We have almost sixteen hours left.” Mai corrected automatically. “Fifteen hours, fifty-two minutes.” Kiro stared at her. Ace pointed. “See? This is why she needs food.” Mai’s expression became dangerous. Shammy said: “Both of you need food.” Ace looked at her. “Betrayal continues.” “Yes.” Kiro turned back to her screens. The banter faded behind her. Not completely. It never completely disappeared with this group. But Kiro preferred it that way. Silence meant people had gone too far inward. Noise meant they were still talking. Talking meant they were still functioning. Mostly. She pulled the three investigation sets together. Wrong lightning. Wrong disruptor. Wrong blades. The temptation was obvious. Find the common thing. Everybody wanted the common thing. One manufacturer. One alloy. One serial pattern. One firmware quirk. One convenient piece of evidence that said: **HERE IS YOUR KILLER.** Night City rarely provided convenient evidence unless somebody had put it there deliberately. Kiro had learned to distrust gifts. She opened the electrical-discharge data first. Thermal profile. Pulse timing. Environmental sensor noise. Power-management artifact. Then Mai’s counterfeit disruptor. Same categories. Different values. Then Ace’s blades. That was harder. No power logs directly tied to the weapons. No surviving smart telemetry. No conveniently severed weapon component left at the scene. Just wounds. Movement. Material transfer so small it was almost useless. Almost. Kiro enlarged the forensic spectroscopy. Mai came around behind her. “Anything?” “Lots.” “Useful?” “Ask me in an hour.” Ace called from the couch: “We don’t have an hour.” Kiro turned. “Thank you, tiny clock.” Ace raised one finger. “Pocket apocalypse.” Reyes said, “Don’t encourage her.” “I like it.” “I know.” Kiro turned back. Mai stayed beside her. “What do you need?” “Nothing yet.” Mai did not move. Kiro glanced sideways. “You’re hovering.” “I am standing.” “Very analytically.” Mai stared. Kiro smiled faintly. “Go eat.” “You just told me you need an hour.” “And you staring at my ear will make it forty-five minutes?” “Possibly.” “That is disturbingly plausible.” Mai finally stepped away. Kiro worked. She began with things too small to matter. That was usually where patterns lived. Material transfer from the blade wounds showed a high-strength alloy. Nothing exotic. A dozen manufacturers used families close enough to it. Trace surface treatment suggested very high wear resistance. Still broad. Microscopic residue indicated active deployment surfaces might have been lubricated. Useful. Not decisive. She tagged it. Estimated blade length. Forearm housing volume. Actuator torque. Extension speed. The wound timing Ace had reconstructed imposed constraints. The blades could not unfold slowly. They needed to be available almost instantly. That meant stored mechanical energy, high-torque actuators, explosive microdeployment, or some hybrid system. All required power or bulk. Usually both. Kiro added those constraints to the model. The silhouette grew uglier. Ace wandered over carrying a bowl. She looked at the projection. “Still ugly.” “Yes.” “Good.” “You sound pleased.” “I don’t want my evil impersonator hotter than me.” Kiro slowly turned her head. Ace took another bite. “What?” “Nothing.” “That was judgment.” “It was awe.” “Acceptable.” Kiro pointed at the bowl. “You actually ate.” “Shammy threatened me.” From the kitchen: “I said you should.” Ace called back: “It was the tone.” Shammy appeared carrying another bowl. “I used my normal voice.” “Exactly.” She handed it to Kiro. Kiro looked down. Then at Shammy. “Thanks.” “Yes.” Shammy went back. Kiro watched her for a second. Ace leaned against the table. “She takes care of people like a weather system.” Kiro glanced at her. “What does that mean?” “No idea.” “Helpful.” “Thank you.” Ace wandered away again. Kiro ate while working. Slowly. Enough to stop Mai from policing her blood sugar. Probably. She overlaid the blade housing volume against the known electrical-system demands. The fake lightning needed substantial discharge capacity. Large capacitors or equivalent rapid-delivery storage. The fake disruptor needed controlled output shaping. Different function. Potentially same source. The blades needed fast mechanical action. Different function again. One body could support all three. That was not yet the same as saying one body did. She opened the murder timelines. Five scenes. Different days. Different districts. Different environmental conditions. Each scene contained all three signatures to varying degrees. Not always equally dramatic. That mattered. Kiro leaned closer. “Mai.” Mai was beside her almost immediately. Ace called from the couch: “She was waiting.” Mai ignored her. “What?” Kiro arranged the scenes chronologically. “Look at the intensity.” Mai read. “Lightning?” “All of it.” First murder. Blades dominant. Electronics clearly damaged. Electrical marks relatively small. Second. More electrical. Third. More sophisticated disruptor imitation. Fourth. Lightning visually stronger. Fifth. All three highly legible. Mai’s eyes narrowed. “He improved.” “Maybe.” Ace groaned. “There’s the fucking word again.” Kiro looked over. “Do you want incorrect certainty?” Ace thought. “No.” “Then live with maybe.” “Can I complain about it?” “Yes.” “Excellent.” Mai leaned closer. “Improvement could mean separate equipment refined over time.” “Could.” “Or one integrated platform iterated.” “Yes.” Kiro pulled up power artifacts. First scene had barely usable environmental data. Second had one trace. Third better. Fourth excellent. Fifth enough to compare. She normalized them. Different loads. Different outputs. Different noise. But something sat underneath them. Not an identical waveform. Not a serial number hidden in the electricity. Behavior. The same tendency to overshoot a correction. Then pull back. The same fractionally late response under sudden load. The same recovery curve trying to protect a system being pushed harder than good engineering would recommend. Mai saw it. “Control architecture.” “Maybe.” Ace shouted: “Drink.” Everyone looked at her. Ace was holding up her cup. “You say maybe, you drink.” Reyes looked at her. “When did this become a game?” “Now.” “You’re drinking water.” “I’m responsible.” Mai said, “Ignore her.” Ace drank anyway. Kiro smiled despite herself. Then pointed at the traces. “These could still be different systems built by the same engineer.” “Yes.” “Or same manufacturer.” “Yes.” “Or some aftermarket package.” “Yes.” “Or one central power system feeding multiple subsystems.” Mai nodded. “That is currently the cleanest physical explanation.” “Cleanest isn’t proof.” “No.” Reyes came over. “What’s the dirty explanation?” Kiro looked at her. “Three unrelated pieces of hardware independently happen to share several weird behaviors.” Reyes considered. “How likely?” “I don’t have a defensible number.” “Would you bet on it?” “No.” “Then keep going.” Kiro liked Reyes. Reyes generally understood uncertainty without requiring it to become decorative. Ace joined her. “So.” She pointed at the projected body. “One chrome asshole.” “Maybe.” Ace drank. Kiro flipped her off. Ace grinned. Shammy came closer. “Can I ask something?” “Yes.” “If the same body creates the lightning and the disruption…” She looked at the model. “…why do they both get so hot?” Kiro stopped. Mai looked at Shammy. Shammy frowned slightly. “If there is one central system, would it not be more efficient?” Kiro put her bowl down. “Not necessarily.” “But?” Kiro expanded the cooling model. “But if somebody built this intelligently from scratch, yes.” Ace looked at the hypothetical cyberpsycho. “Maybe he’s stupid.” Mai shook her head. “The murders argue otherwise.” Reyes nodded. “He’s methodical.” Shammy said, “Then perhaps he does not care if it hurts.” Silence. Kiro stared at the thermal estimates. That had been sitting in front of them since the alley. Extremely high heat. Hardware pushed beyond comfortable duty cycle. Aggressive power demand. The engineering was not necessarily poor. The priorities were. She changed assumptions. Removed conventional user-safety margins. Allowed higher transient temperatures. Allowed tissue-adjacent heat above what a sane implant designer would consider acceptable. Allowed shorter component lifespan. Allowed more violent discharge. The model changed. Significantly. “Oh.” Mai saw it. “What?” Kiro adjusted again. “You can make it smaller.” “How much?” “Enough.” Ace leaned over. “English.” Kiro rotated the body. “If you don’t give a fuck about protecting the person wearing it, you can pack this tighter.” Reyes’s expression hardened. “Meaning?” “Less insulation. Less thermal buffering. More aggressive current density. Shorter component life. Higher risk of burns, nerve damage, tissue damage, implant failure.” Shammy looked at the model. “He is part of the cooling system.” Kiro glanced at her. “In a very unpleasant sense, yes.” Ace made a face. “Ew.” Mai said, “Cyberpsychosis can correlate with extreme disregard for bodily damage, but do not use diagnosis as explanation.” Kiro nodded. “We don’t know his mental state.” Ace looked at the murder files. “We know he’ll cook himself to make fake lightning look prettier.” “Apparently.” “That feels diagnostic.” Reyes said, “Feels isn’t evidence.” Ace pointed. “You’ve been spending too much time with Mai.” Reyes shrugged. “Could be worse.” Mai looked at her. Reyes added: “I could spend more time with you.” Ace put one hand over her heart. “Cruel.” Shammy said, “You do.” Ace turned. Shammy looked mildly confused again. “What?” Reyes covered her face. Kiro laughed. Mai just said: “Work.” There was warmth in it this time. Tiny. But there. Kiro returned to the platform model. She had enough now to ask different questions. Not: Could these systems coexist? They could. Not: Could a single person carry them? Likely. The question was whether the murder scenes behaved as if one person had. She pulled timestamps from every site. Body position. Electrical event. Electronic failure. Blade strikes. Estimated intervals. At the best-preserved scene, the sequence was clear enough. Contact. Blade attack. System disruption. Electrical discharge. Emblem. At another: System disruption. Attack. Electrical event. Emblem. At another: Attack. Electrical and system events close together. Emblem. Reyes watched. “No second attacker.” Kiro glanced up. “Not from positioning evidence.” Ace came closer. “No defensive reaction toward another person.” Reyes nodded. “No split attention.” Shammy added: “No reason for multiple electrical operators to stand where the marks originate.” Mai looked through all five. “Could a remote accomplice produce part of it?” “Yes,” Kiro said. “Evidence for one?” “No.” “Evidence against?” “Not enough.” Ace sighed. “Maybe.” Kiro did not look over. “I will fucking bite you.” Ace brightened. “Promises.” Reyes grabbed her around the waist and physically pulled her backward. Ace laughed. “See? Morale.” Kiro pointed at Reyes. “Keep her.” “I’ve tried.” Ace stopped laughing for half a beat. Then looked up at Reyes. “Oh?” Reyes’s expression changed. Just slightly. Kiro realized exactly what she had stepped into. Shammy tilted her head. Mai looked intensely interested in the data. Reyes said: “Not now.” Ace’s grin became slow. “Definitely later.” Reyes released her. “Threat revoked.” “Too late.” Kiro cleared her throat. “Five murders.” Ace immediately sobered. “Right.” Again. The rhythm. Pressure. Release. Return. Kiro understood now why they did it. She went back to the timestamps. If multiple people had been involved, they had worked with extraordinary coordination. Possible. But unnecessary. If one platform had been involved, everything fit with fewer assumptions. One person enters. One body carries blades. One shared power system supplies at least two energy weapons. One cooling architecture explains correlated thermal behavior. One person controls staging. One person carves the emblem. One person leaves. Occam was not evidence. But he was useful. Kiro said: “I think it’s one.” Nobody joked. Mai looked at her. “How strongly?” Kiro considered before answering. “Strong enough to plan around.” “Not enough to tell Rogue as fact.” “No.” Ace stepped closer. “Explain it like I’m beautiful.” Reyes said, “That’s not how that phrase works.” “I improved it.” Kiro looked at Ace. “Your fake blades require big arm modifications.” “Yep.” “Fake Shammy requires high-output power.” “Yep.” “Fake Mai requires controlled high-output power.” “Yep.” “The power systems at multiple scenes behave like they share design logic.” “Yep.” “The cooling demands make sense if somebody is accepting serious risk to their own body.” Ace’s expression tightened. “Yep.” “No scene requires a second attacker.” Ace stopped nodding. Kiro pointed at the model. “And the order of events repeatedly looks like one person switching functions.” Ace looked at the silhouette. “One bastard wearing three costumes.” “No.” Shammy said it. Everyone looked at her. She stared at the projection. “One bastard wearing one costume.” Kiro smiled slightly. “Yeah.” Mai nodded. “That is more accurate.” Ace looked at Shammy. “Okay, that was good.” “Thank you.” “You knew that one.” “Yes.” Ace put a hand to her chest. “She’s learning.” Shammy looked at her. “I have always known how to speak.” “Debatable.” Mai cut across them. “Kiro. Build the strongest defensible one-platform case.” “Already am.” “Separate observed facts from inference.” “Yes.” “Mark confidence.” “Yes.” “Identify what would falsify it.” Kiro looked at her. Mai raised an eyebrow. Kiro smiled. “Now who’s mating?” Ace inhaled sharply. Mai froze. Reyes turned away. Shammy looked delighted purely because everybody else had reacted. Kiro realized what she had done. Ace slapped both hands onto the table. “YES.” “No,” Mai said. “You walked directly into it.” “Kiro.” “I’m sorry.” “No, you’re fucking not,” Ace said. Kiro started laughing. The safehouse dissolved for six seconds. Maybe seven. Mai trying to retain authority. Ace triumphant. Reyes refusing to participate while visibly participating. Shammy smiling because Kiro was laughing. Then Mai looked toward the clock. The laughter stopped on its own. **14:36:53** Less than fifteen hours. Kiro exhaled. “Okay.” She rebuilt the screens. Facts on the left. Inference on the right. **FACT: Twin blade wounds consistent with paired weapons.** **FACT: Estimated weapon dimensions require substantial housing or external carriage.** **FACT: Fake lightning demonstrates high-energy sequential discharge.** **FACT: Fake disruptor demonstrates controlled component-targeted energy delivery.** **FACT: Multiple scenes contain related power-management behavior.** **FACT: Thermal profiles indicate extreme load and aggressive recovery.** **FACT: Scene reconstruction does not require multiple attackers.** Then inference. **LIKELY: Multiple counterfeit systems share power architecture.** **LIKELY: Systems are body-integrated or tightly body-mounted.** **LIKELY: User accepts unusually high thermal/mechanical risk.** **HIGH CONFIDENCE: Single heavily modified attacker is sufficient to produce all three signatures.** Mai read it. “Good.” Ace read the last line. “Single heavily modified attacker.” She frowned. “That sounds boring.” “It is a forensic assessment.” “Can we call him Counterfeit Cunt?” “No.” Kiro said, “Internally?” Mai looked at her. Kiro looked innocent. Reyes said: “I vote yes.” Mai turned toward Reyes. “There is no vote.” Ace pointed excitedly. “She did it again.” Shammy asked: “Is Counterfeit Cunt technically accurate?” Mai closed her eyes. Kiro lost control first. Reyes followed. Ace leaned against Shammy, almost crying. Mai waited. Patiently. Dangerously. When everyone had recovered, she opened her eyes. “We are done.” Ace wiped at one eye. “With the nickname?” “With this conversation.” “Coward.” Mai ignored her. Kiro saved the model. One platform. One attacker. Still no identity. Still no proof strong enough to end the threat. But the search space had changed. Dramatically. She turned to another screen. Now she could look for a person capable of carrying the machine. Large-scale cybernetic modification. High-output integrated weapon systems. Unusual cooling requirements. Actuator architecture for twin arm blades. Someone technically competent enough to maintain it. Someone who had been refining it over time. Someone willing to hurt themselves to make the imitation convincing. And someone patient enough to kill five people one at a time. Kiro began searching old incident records. Mai noticed. “What are you doing?” “Looking for hardware.” “Where?” “Everywhere we can legally, illegally and questionably access in fourteen hours.” Ace leaned over the couch. “I like this plan.” Kiro shook her head. “No.” “What?” “That’s exactly what he wants us to do.” Mai stopped. Ace’s expression shifted. “What?” Kiro stared at the hypothetical body. “If we search for someone who has all this chrome now, we’re searching for the finished product.” Reyes came closer. “And?” “Finished products have prototypes.” Mai understood first. “Development.” Kiro nodded. “Install complications. Power accidents. Cooling failures. illegal ripper work. Equipment purchases. Component theft. Test incidents.” Shammy looked at the murder chronology. “And before the murders?” “Yes.” Kiro opened the timeline farther back. Weeks. Months. Years. Ace looked at it. “How far?” Kiro did not answer immediately. Because Mai’s last question from the forensic room was still sitting in her head. How long had he spent collecting the stories? Kiro widened the search again. “Far.” Mai watched. Kiro began pulling public and underground data feeds. Then stopped. A different thought. “No.” Ace groaned. “What now?” “We’re still assuming he got information somewhere.” Mai frowned. “He did.” “Obviously. But we keep talking like there’s a source.” Kiro began listing what the killer knew. Ace uses paired blades. Public. Ace’s collar emblem. Visible. Mai’s disruptor leaves dead systems. Known. Shammy associated with lightning. Rumor. Triad operates together. Very known. Approximate visual combat effects. Witnesses. After-action stories. Footage. Kiro looked at the list. Nothing on it required a breach. Nothing required a mole. Nothing required access to their private data. Mai saw the list too. Her face changed. Ace noticed. “Fuck.” Kiro nodded slowly. “Yeah.” Reyes asked: “What?” Kiro turned the screen toward them. “We might be looking for a leak that never happened.” Silence. Shammy read the list. “All of this is outside.” “Yes.” Mai came closer. “Not together.” “No.” “Which is why we assumed aggregation from privileged access.” “Yes.” Ace looked at the screen. “But somebody could just…” She gestured. “…collect it.” Kiro nodded. “For long enough.” Reyes’s expression hardened. “Witness stories.” “Yes.” “Old scenes.” “Yes.” “Merc gossip.” “Yes.” “Footage.” “Yes.” Shammy said: “Stories.” Kiro looked at her. “Exactly.” Mai stared at the list. One person. One platform. Three counterfeit signatures. And perhaps no betrayal at all. The killer did not need to get inside their world. He only needed to stand outside it long enough. Watch. Listen. Collect. Build. Ace looked toward Kiro. “So how do we prove there wasn’t a leak?” Kiro sat back. “That’s the fun part.” Ace stared. “Your definition of fun is horrifying.” “Yes.” Mai checked the clock. **14:21:08** The next problem had arrived. Not finding the breach. Proving there was none. Kiro opened a fresh workspace. She titled it: **SOURCE MAP** Ace read it. “No cute name?” Kiro looked at her. “I considered NERD MATING.” Mai said: “Kiro.” Kiro smiled. “Source Map.” Ace looked delighted. Reyes shook her head. Shammy sat beside Kiro. “What do you need?” Kiro began populating the first column. “Everything anybody outside this room could have known about you.” Ace looked around. “That’s going to be a long fucking list.” “Yes.” Mai pulled a chair beside Kiro. Shammy moved closer. Reyes took the opposite side. Ace remained standing for a moment. Looking at the four of them around the table. Then she dragged over the smallest chair. Reyes stared at it. Ace sat. “What?” “Nothing.” “Say it.” “Fits you.” Ace pointed. “Fuck you.” Reyes smiled. Kiro opened the first search. The clock kept moving. But for the first time since Rogue had said **Now**, they were no longer chasing three killers. They were hunting one person. And the shape of the hunt had just changed again. --- # CHAPTER 9 — NO LEAK Kiro hated proving negatives. Finding something was easy. Relatively. A packet existed or it did not. A file had moved or it had not. A credential had been used somewhere it should not have been. A door had opened. A database had answered. Something happened. You followed the scar. Proving that nothing had happened was different. Nothing did not leave logs. Nothing did not authenticate. Nothing did not announce itself. Nothing just sat there and made you look like an asshole for insisting it mattered. Kiro stared at the words on her central screen. **SOURCE MAP** Ace leaned over her shoulder. “So.” Kiro did not turn. “So.” “How do you find nothing?” “I’m considering murder.” Ace nodded thoughtfully. “Already topical.” Reyes grabbed the back of Ace’s shorts and pulled her away from Kiro. Ace made a deeply offended sound. “Excuse me.” “You were breathing into her ear.” “I was supervising.” “You were being a parasite.” “A sexy parasite.” Reyes let go. “Debatable.” Ace slowly turned toward her. “Oh?” Reyes had already walked away. Ace followed. “Come back here and defend your thesis.” Kiro looked at Mai. Mai was reading the source map. “You live with that.” “Yes.” “Voluntarily.” Mai looked up. “Yes.” Shammy sat on the floor beside the table with a cup between both hands. “I do too.” Kiro looked at her. Shammy smiled slightly. Kiro returned to the screen. “Right.” The easy theory was a leak. It was always the easy theory. Someone had acquired confidential information about the Triad. Maybe fixer files. Maybe operational reports. Maybe intercepted communications. Maybe somebody inside an old job had sold data. Maybe some corp had quietly accumulated footage and technical analysis. Maybe one of the endless anonymous databases that Night City built about dangerous people had become less anonymous than advertised. All plausible. All unpleasant. All searchable. Kiro had started there. She had searched Rogue’s known operational repositories. Wakako’s relevant courier records. Old job shards they could identify. Public bounty archives. Security incident packages. Merc boards. Corporate threat assessments acquired through sources nobody needed to discuss. She had mapped accesses around every recognizable piece of information used in the counterfeit signatures. Nothing. Not literally nothing. Night City did not contain clean data. There were old breaches everywhere. Credential theft. Partial dumps. Corrupted archives. Resold footage. Scraped snippets. But no common event. No central theft. No single package containing the necessary pieces. Kiro opened another result. Rejected it. Another. Rejected. Mai stood behind her. “How many?” “Candidate breaches?” “Yes.” “Forty-seven initially.” “And now?” “Three worth looking at.” Ace appeared again. Reyes immediately said: “No.” Ace stopped. “I’m six feet away.” “Stay there.” “You’re controlling.” “Yes.” Ace smiled. “I like it.” Reyes stared at her. Ace sat on the arm of the couch. “See? Obedient.” “No one has ever used that word about you.” “Mai has.” Mai did not look away from Kiro’s screen. “Not sincerely.” Ace put a hand over her heart. “Betrayal everywhere.” Shammy drank from her cup. “Yes.” Ace looked at her. “You’re really enjoying that word today.” “Yes. Very much.” Kiro opened candidate one. “Old corp threat package. Contains references to Ace’s blades and Shammy’s electrical effects.” Mai leaned closer. “And your disruptor?” “No.” “Could have been added separately.” “Sure.” Kiro opened its access history. “Package was breached nineteen months ago. Widely enough that we should assume anybody determined could have found it.” Mai nodded. “Possible source.” “Partial.” “Candidate two?” “Merc-net scrape. Footage references all three of you.” Ace raised her eyebrows. “What footage?” “Mostly garbage.” “Define garbage.” Kiro opened one still. Night City security footage. Bad angle. Ace crossed the frame as a blur. A bright emerald streak followed. Several meters away, something electrical flashed. The recording glitched. Then Mai appeared briefly behind cover. Ace stared. “That’s us?” Kiro looked at her. “Apparently.” “I look fantastic.” “You’re twelve pixels.” “Strong twelve pixels.” Reyes said, “One of them is probably a dumpster.” Ace squinted. “Fuck you, I know my silhouette.” Shammy came closer. “Which one is me?” Kiro pointed. Shammy studied the image. “That could also be a streetlight.” Ace made a choking sound. Mai looked at the footage. “When?” “Twenty-two months ago.” “Access?” “Publicly scraped after the local security company folded.” Mai frowned. “So anyone.” “Anyone sufficiently obsessive.” Ace looked at the awful footage again. “Somebody built murder weapons from this?” “No.” Kiro closed it. “Not from this.” “Good.” “From this plus everything else.” Ace’s smile disappeared. Kiro opened candidate three. “Independent scene-analysis archive.” Mai read. “After-action reports?” “Unofficial.” “Source?” “Mercs. Medtechs. scavenged security packages. Gossip with citations.” Reyes came over. “That sounds reliable.” “It isn’t.” Kiro looked at her. “That’s why it matters.” Reyes frowned. Kiro opened several entries. Ace. Descriptions of speed. Two swords. Short. Emerald blade effects. Unusually aggressive positional changes. Some accurate. Some ridiculous. One claimed Ace had once decapitated nine people without touching the ground. Ace read it. “Finally, journalism.” Mai said, “You have never done that.” “Not nine.” Reyes looked at her. Ace paused. “Probably.” Mai stared. Ace shrugged. “Busy years.” Kiro switched. Mai. Disruptor descriptions. Electronics dying. Weapon discharges followed by system cascades. Rumors that Mai could erase cyberware by looking at it. Mai stared at the line. Ace brightened. “You should do that.” “I cannot.” “Work on it.” Kiro switched again. Shammy. Lightning. Atmospheric anomalies. Power failures. Electrical attacks. One report confidently claimed Shammy could summon thunderstorms indoors. Shammy read it. “No.” Ace looked over. “Could you?” “No.” “Have you tried?” “No.” “Should we?” “No.” Mai said, “No.” Ace sighed. “Scientific curiosity is dead.” Kiro watched Shammy. “Does any of this describe what you actually do?” “Parts.” “Enough for someone to build what we saw?” Shammy considered carefully. “Yes.” Mai’s expression tightened. Kiro nodded. Exactly. She closed the archive. “None of these contain everything.” Mai said, “But everything exists somewhere.” “Yes.” “Independently.” “Yes.” “No privileged access required.” “No.” Reyes folded her arms. “Then why are we still talking about a leak?” Kiro looked at her. “Because I hate this answer.” Ace’s expression changed. “What answer?” Kiro leaned back. “That there isn’t one.” Silence. Ace looked at the screens. Mai did not move. Shammy set down her cup. Reyes asked: “How sure?” “Not yet.” Kiro pulled up the larger source map. Nodes covered the screen. Hundreds. Some tiny. Some broad. Old scene images. Dead merc-board discussions. Security captures. After-action chatter. Fixer rumors. Combat eyewitness accounts. Public photos. Archived local news. Bounty comments. Forum arguments. Anonymous BD fragments. Weapon speculation. Posts claiming Ace was four feet tall. Posts claiming Ace was six. Ace pointed. “Delete the six-foot one.” Kiro ignored her. Mai stared at the network. “This is not a source map.” Kiro looked at her. “No.” “It is an ecosystem.” “Yes.” Mai stepped closer. Kiro began highlighting pieces used by the counterfeit. Twin blades. Dozens of sources. Green/emerald visual association. Many. Short stature. Everywhere. Triad collar emblem. Public photography. Shammy and lightning. Rumors across years. Mai and electronics. Combat reports. Descriptions of the Triad arriving together. Merc stories. Descriptions of Ace pausing after fights. Witness memory. None complete. All sufficient in aggregate. Kiro said: “If he had one stolen intelligence package, I’d expect consistency.” Mai nodded slowly. “Better accuracy.” “Or at least the same kind of error.” Reyes looked at the map. “But the errors are different.” “Yes.” Kiro pointed. “Shammy is copied from folklore-level simplification.” Another. “Mai is copied from external technical aftermath.” Another. “Ace is copied from witness perception and visible fighting style.” Ace’s eyes narrowed. “So he used different kinds of sources.” “Exactly.” Shammy said: “He used whatever existed.” Kiro nodded. “Yes.” Mai looked at her. “How long?” Kiro did not answer. She changed the source-map display. Sorted by date. Oldest relevant material first. The timeline stretched. Months. A year. Two. More. Ace stood. The humor left her entirely. “Fuck.” Kiro highlighted sources whose specific misconceptions appeared in the murders. A discussion about Ace’s twin blades. Seventeen months old. A merc recounting Shammy “throwing lightning across a wall.” Twenty-six months. Kiro opened it. The account was obviously second-hand. Shammy read it. “That did not happen.” Kiro looked at her. “Anything close?” Shammy thought. “There was a discharge. Outside.” “Wall?” “No.” Ace leaned in. “So somebody already turned it into bullshit before our guy even got it.” “Yes.” Kiro highlighted a technical argument about Mai’s disruptor. Fourteen months. The poster had accurately described the visible sequence and completely misunderstood the mechanism. Mai read it twice. “That is almost exactly his error.” Kiro nodded. No one spoke. The story had become older. Not the murders. The preparation. Kiro highlighted another. Ace fight footage. Bad, distant, incomplete. Three years old. Ace watched herself move across the recording. Very little visible. Enough to create a story around it. Reyes looked at her. “He could’ve started anywhere in here.” “Yeah.” Kiro zoomed out. Hundreds of fragments. Different dates. Different places. Different observers. No central leak. No single theft. No betrayal. Just accumulation. Mai said quietly: “He built us from sediment.” Ace looked at her. Kiro felt something cold settle behind her ribs. “Yes.” Shammy stared at the screen. “Story on story.” “Yes.” “Until he believed it.” Kiro looked at her. “Maybe.” From the couch: Ace lifted her cup. Nobody laughed. She lowered it. “Not funny anymore.” “No,” Kiro said. It wasn't. Because a leak could be closed. A compromised account could be killed. A traitor could be found. A database could be burned. This? This was Night City remembering them. Badly. Forever. And somebody had spent years listening. Reyes broke the silence. “So we’re not looking for somebody who got inside.” Kiro nodded. “We’re looking for somebody who never needed to.” Mai’s eyes remained on the timeline. “He observes.” “Yes.” “Collects.” “Yes.” “Compares.” “Yes.” “Builds.” “Yes.” Shammy said, “Tests.” Kiro looked at her. The murder chronology appeared in her mind. First signature crude. Later signatures improved. “Yeah.” Ace looked toward the hypothetical platform model still open on another display. “He fucking iterated.” Kiro pulled the murders into the same timeline. Five markers appeared at the far right. The source history stretched years behind them. The murders suddenly looked tiny. Just the visible end of something much longer. Mai saw it. “That is the wrong scale.” Kiro nodded. “We thought the case started with the first courier.” Reyes stared at the years of material. “It didn’t.” “No.” Ace swore softly. The killer had not woken up one morning and decided to frame the Triad. He had assembled an idea of them. Piece by piece. Story by story. Built hardware to match. Tested it. Improved it. Then chosen people whose deaths would make the imitation matter. Mai pulled up the victim list. “Recheck the couriers.” Kiro frowned. “We did.” “Not for common clients.” Kiro understood. “For observation opportunity.” “Yes.” Reyes came closer. “Places they went?” “Routes,” Mai said. “Bars. handoff points. waiting areas. jobs adjacent to ours.” Ace’s expression hardened. “Somebody watching us could’ve seen them too.” Kiro started the query. Five courier histories. Years of movement. Too much data. But now they did not need a direct link. They needed proximity. The first broad match appeared. One courier had used a Charter Hill transfer point eighteen months earlier. Triad had worked two blocks away that week. Weak. Another had regularly visited an Afterlife-adjacent bar. Meaningless. Another had been present at a merc exchange where stories about the Triad circulated. More interesting. But still nothing. Kiro stopped. “No.” Mai looked over. “What?” “We’re doing it again.” “Explain.” “We’re trying to make the couriers part of his observation history.” “Possibly.” “But they don’t have to be.” Reyes understood. “He chose them later.” Kiro nodded. “The observation target was you.” Ace’s face tightened. “The couriers are props.” Shammy corrected softly: “Victims.” Ace looked at her. Then down. “Yeah.” A beat. “Victims.” Kiro looked at the five names. They mattered. Not because they were keys to the killer. Because they had been selected to move Rogue and Wakako. The killer had studied one system— the Triad. Then weaponized another— Night City’s fixer network. Mai said: “He understood the social outcome.” Reyes nodded. “Knew who to kill.” “Exactly.” Ace paced once across the room. “Which means he didn’t just listen to stories about how we fight.” “No,” Kiro said. “He watched how the city reacts to us.” “Yes.” “And Rogue.” “Yes.” “And Wakako.” “Probably.” Ace stopped. “That is fucking creepy.” Reyes looked at her. “Now?” Ace stared. “Yes, now.” “You were fine with murder cosplay.” “I was offended.” “And this?” Ace’s voice went quieter. “This is someone sitting outside our life taking notes.” That killed the banter again. Reyes watched her. Ace did not look back. Mai said: “He cannot know the inside.” Ace turned. “What?” Mai pointed at the errors. “He cannot.” She moved to the Shammy sources. “He does not know what her lightning actually is.” Then her own. “He does not understand the disruptor.” Then Ace. “He cannot reproduce your movement.” Ace stared. Mai looked at all three. “He has extraordinary breadth.” A beat. “And poor depth.” Kiro felt it lock into place. “Yes.” She stood. Opened a fresh board. Wrote: **NO CENTRAL LEAK** Below it: **PUBLIC / SEMI-PUBLIC OBSERVATION** **LONG-TERM COLLECTION** **MULTIPLE SOURCE TYPES** **EXTERNAL MODEL** Ace read the last line. “External model.” Kiro nodded. “That’s what he built.” “Of us.” “Yes.” Shammy said: “A model that thinks it is us.” Nobody answered immediately. Mai looked at the counterfeit platform. Then the source map. Then the murder timeline. Her eyes went distant in the way they did when pieces were locking into structure. “He does not know us.” Ace looked at her. Mai turned. “He studied us.” Silence. There. Not dramatic. Not shouted. Just true. Ace looked back at the source map. Years of stories. Mistakes. Witnesses. Bad footage. Good footage. Merc gossip. Technical speculation. Five dead people. A body full of counterfeit weapons. “He doesn’t know us,” Ace repeated. Shammy looked toward her. Ace smiled. Cold again. “He studied us.” Reyes walked to the table. “So what kind of person does that for years?” Kiro sat back down. “Patient.” Mai nodded. “Technical.” Shammy: “Obsessive.” Reyes: “Controlled.” Ace looked at the murder chronology. “Not impulsive.” Mai added: “Comfortable waiting.” Kiro opened older unsolved incident records. Heavy cyberware. Unusual violence. Cases where witnesses expected rage and got something else. No filter yet. Too many. Reyes watched the results populate. “We’re looking for a psycho who doesn’t act like one.” Mai glanced at her. “We are looking for a highly modified individual whose behavior may be consistent with cyberpsychosis but who retains significant planning and self-control.” Ace stared at Mai. “That is the least sexy way anyone has ever said psycho.” Mai did not blink. “Thank you.” “That was not praise.” “I am taking it anyway.” Kiro smiled. There. Still functioning. She refined the search. Patient attacks. Heavy chrome. Integrated weapon incidents. Electrical anomalies. Long observation patterns. Unresolved cases. The list shortened. Not enough. Yet. Kiro checked the clock. **12:43:36** Ace saw it. “Eleven hours.” Mai corrected: “Eleven hours, forty-three minutes.” Ace looked at her. “Do you have to?” “Yes.” Reyes said, “Apparently.” Shammy looked at the clock. “We are still ahead of dying.” Ace turned toward her. “That is the most optimistic thing anyone has said all day.” “I meant the deadline.” “I know.” Kiro looked back at the search results. “No leak.” No relief came with the words. Only a different kind of threat. Mai stood beside her. “No betrayal.” “No.” Ace looked toward the safehouse windows. Somewhere outside, Night City carried thousands of stories about them. Most wrong. Some close. All available to anyone patient enough to collect them. “Great,” she said quietly. Reyes glanced at her. Ace gave the city beyond the glass a thin smile. “So our stalker did his homework.” Kiro stared at the narrowing list of old incidents. “Yeah.” One result moved higher. Then another. Then a third. Controlled. Heavily modified. Violent. Strangely patient. Ace looked over Kiro’s shoulder. “What?” Kiro did not answer yet. Mai noticed. “Kiro.” Kiro opened the first old case. Read. Then the second. Read. Something uncomfortable stirred in the room. Not recognition. Not yet. But shape. Behavior. A person who had once waited seventeen minutes in full view of an armed response team before moving. Another report where six people had expected a charging cyberpsycho and instead got an ambush. Another where the attacker disengaged rather than pursue a wounded target because the environment had changed. Ace stopped breathing for half a second. Reyes saw it. “What?” Ace stared at the reports. “Nothing.” Mai looked at her. “Ace.” Ace shook her head. “No. Not nothing.” Kiro opened another record. No name. Unresolved. The suspect had disappeared. Highly modified. Patient. Wrong in exactly the way cyberpsychos were not supposed to be wrong. Ace stepped closer. “I remember this.” Mai’s attention snapped to her. “From where?” Ace stared at the old incident. Her voice dropped. “We’ve met this before.” --- # CHAPTER 10 — THE PATIENT ONE “We’ve met this before.” Nobody answered immediately. Ace kept staring at the old incident summary Kiro had opened. Not because she recognized the file. She recognized the feeling. Mai stepped closer. “What do you remember?” Ace frowned. “Big guy.” Kiro glanced at the old material. “That narrows it down beautifully.” “Fuck you.” Reyes folded her arms. “Keep going.” Ace pointed toward the report. “Big. Heavy chrome.” Mai’s expression shifted. Small. Enough. Ace saw it. “You remember.” Mai did not answer at once. Then: “Yes.” Shammy had gone very still. Ace looked at her. “You too.” Shammy nodded. “Yes.” Kiro looked between all three of them. “Same incident?” Mai answered: “Yes.” No hesitation. That settled the room differently. Reyes looked at Shammy. “You were in it too?” Shammy nodded. “I was there.” Ace leaned one hip against the table. “Not exactly front-line.” Shammy looked at her. “No.” Mai said: “You were keeping the situation from becoming worse.” Shammy considered. “Yes.” Ace smiled faintly. “Pressure valve.” Shammy nodded. “That is accurate.” Reyes looked at her. “What did that mean?” Shammy thought before answering. “I watched.” Ace said: “She watched everything.” “I helped where needed.” Mai added: “And prevented us from overcommitting.” Ace looked at Mai. “That sounds diplomatic.” “It is.” “You mean she stopped me from doing stupid shit.” Shammy looked at Ace. “Sometimes.” Reyes smiled. Ace pointed. “Traitor.” Shammy continued calmly. “You were angry.” “I am often angry.” “Yes.” “That doesn’t narrow anything down.” “No.” Kiro almost smiled. Then looked back at the old incident. “What made this one memorable?” Ace answered immediately. “He didn’t lose it.” Silence. Mai looked at the report. Shammy looked at Ace. Reyes frowned. “Explain.” Ace pushed away from the table. “You know how everybody hears cyberpsycho and expects one thing.” “Rage,” Reyes said. “Yeah.” Ace gestured with both hands. “Charge. Overcommit. Hit harder because something hit back.” Mai nodded. “Escalation.” “Exactly.” Ace looked at the old summary. “He didn’t.” Kiro glanced at the file. “Not at all?” Ace shook her head. “No. He reacted.” Mai corrected: “But remained controlled.” “Yes.” Shammy added: “He waited.” That word landed. Kiro looked at her. “For what?” Shammy’s gaze moved toward the old material. “Until moving was useful.” Ace looked at her. There. That was the memory. Not the location. Not the weapon. Not some miracle technical marker. That. Ace nodded. “Exactly.” Reyes studied all three of them. “So the part that stuck wasn’t that he was heavily modified.” “No,” Mai said. “Or large.” “No.” “Or even dangerous.” Ace gave her a look. “He was very fucking dangerous.” “I assumed.” Mai continued: “What made him unusual was discipline.” Shammy nodded. “Pressure did not make him hurry.” Kiro looked toward the current murder timeline. Five couriers. Spacing. Preparation. Improvement. Waiting. She said: “Fuck.” Ace turned. “Technical fuck?” “No.” “Bad fuck?” “Yes.” “See? Subcategories.” Kiro ignored her. She opened the current chronology beside the old incident. “No impulsive acceleration.” Mai looked. “No.” “No obvious emotional escalation.” “No.” “Each murder increases the framing effect.” Reyes came closer. “He’s not killing faster because he likes killing.” Kiro nodded. “He’s moving when the next step helps the plan.” Shammy looked at the five victim names. “He waits until it matters.” Ace’s expression hardened. “Yes.” That was the same wrongness. Not proof. But rhythm. Mai looked at Kiro. “Do not call it identity.” “I wasn’t going to.” Kiro opened a fresh note. **BEHAVIORAL COMPATIBILITY** Ace read it. “Sexy.” Kiro continued typing. “Old subject: male. Large build. Heavy cybernetic modification.” Mai: “Exceptional self-control.” Shammy: “Patient under pressure.” Reyes: “Long-term planning.” Ace: “Annoying as fuck.” Kiro looked at her. “No.” “Coward.” Kiro typed: **RETTAINS CONTROL UNDER STRESS** Ace stared. “That sounds even more insulting.” “Good.” Mai looked at the old summary. “What else?” Shammy answered first. “He did not react just because something happened.” Kiro looked at her. “Meaning?” Shammy searched for the words. “If the situation changed, he noticed.” A beat. “But he did not immediately answer the change.” Mai nodded. “He evaluated first.” “Yes.” Ace pointed at Shammy. “That.” Reyes looked at her. “You remember that specifically?” Shammy nodded. “Yes.” Ace smiled faintly. “Of course you do.” Shammy looked at her. “I was watching.” Ace’s smile faded. “Yeah.” That was exactly why Shammy belonged in the memory. Not as the biggest source of force. As the person watching pressure move through the room. Ace and Mai had remembered the danger. Shammy had remembered the control. Kiro stared at the current murders. “He’s doing that here.” Mai said: “Possibly.” Ace looked at her. “Come on.” Mai did not soften. “Possibly.” Ace sighed. “Fine.” Mai pointed at the chronology. “The similarity is strong.” “Thank you.” “It is still behavioral.” “I know.” “No unique technical continuity.” “I know.” “No confirmed identity.” “I fucking know.” Reyes looked at Ace. “Growth.” Ace turned. “Don’t you start.” Kiro began comparing the old behavioral summary against the new case. Current killer: Patient. Deliberate. Controls timing. Improves over multiple iterations. Uses violence instrumentally. Stages evidence. Waits between events. Measures effect. Does not appear driven by immediate gratification. Old subject: Large. Heavily modified. Controlled. Patient. Long-term thinker. Did not collapse under pressure. Did not confuse action with advantage. No miracle. No smoking gun. But the shape fit. Too well to ignore. Kiro said: “If this is the same person—” Mai looked at her. “If.” “Yes.” Kiro nodded. “If.” Then continued: “Years would explain the development.” Ace looked at the counterfeit platform. “More chrome.” “Yes.” “Better hardware.” “Yes.” “More time.” “Yes.” Shammy looked at the source map from Chapter Nine. “And more stories.” Silence. Ace followed her gaze. Years of public fragments. Rumors. Bad footage. Witness descriptions. Technical misunderstanding. A person who could wait. A person who had waited before. Mai saw the same line. “He would not need one major breakthrough.” Kiro nodded. “No.” “Just accumulation.” “Yes.” Reyes looked at Ace. “You think it’s him.” Ace did not answer immediately. Then: “I think whoever did this thinks like him.” That was better. Mai nodded. “Yes.” Shammy looked at Ace. “And if it is him?” Ace stared at the counterfeit body. “Then he got worse.” Mai said: “More capable.” Ace looked at her. “Same fucking thing.” “No.” “Yes.” “No.” Reyes said: “Not the time.” Ace looked at her. “I know.” A beat. “Still true.” Kiro kept working. “Any reason it cannot be him?” Mai said: “Do not phrase it that way.” Kiro glanced over. “Why?” “Because absence of contradiction is not evidence of identity.” Kiro smiled faintly. “You really do make murder sound like accounting.” Ace pointed. “I told you.” Mai ignored both. Kiro corrected. “Anything in the old record that directly conflicts with the current candidate?” They checked. Physical size. Compatible. Sex. Compatible. Heavy modifications. Compatible. Behavior. Compatible. Current systems far more advanced. Not conflict. Time had passed. There were too many unknowns to say more. Kiro leaned back. “No direct contradiction.” Ace nodded. “Good.” Reyes looked at her. “You sound disappointed.” “I’m not.” “You look disappointed.” Ace stared at the old file. “I don’t want it to be him.” Reyes waited. Ace continued. “I also don’t want us pretending it isn’t because that feels nicer.” Reyes nodded once. “Good.” Mai looked at Ace. Ace caught it. “Don’t.” “What?” “That proud face.” “I do not have one.” Shammy said: “You do.” Mai turned. Shammy looked completely serious. Ace grinned. “There.” Mai closed her eyes for half a second. Kiro laughed. Reyes looked away before she joined. For a few seconds, the pressure dropped. Then Rogue sent another message. Short. No greeting. **QUESTIONS ARE TURNING INTO NUMBERS.** The safehouse went still. Ace read it. Her smile disappeared. Reyes stepped closer. “What does that mean?” Mai answered. “People are discussing prices.” Shammy looked at her. “Contracts.” “Yes.” Kiro checked the clock. **11:26:41** Ace saw it. “Fuck.” Reyes looked at her. “No.” Ace turned. “I didn’t say anything.” “You thought something.” “That is not yet illegal.” “Give Night City time.” Ace almost smiled. Almost. Mai stared at Rogue’s message. “This is exactly what the killer wanted.” Kiro nodded. “The rumor is becoming actionable.” Shammy looked at the current timeline. “Then he knows how long to wait.” Nobody answered. That was worse than the message. Ace looked toward her. Shammy continued: “If this person thinks like the one we met…” She paused. “…he will not hurry because we are running out of time.” Mai nodded. “He will expect us to.” Reyes looked at Ace. Ace immediately said: “I know.” Reyes raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything.” “You were about to.” “Your face testified?” Ace pointed. “See? Educational continuity.” Kiro stared at them. “Are you two flirting through homicide analysis?” Ace looked at Reyes. “Yes.” Reyes said: “No.” Ace smiled. “Needs work.” Mai brought the room back. “What changes operationally?” Kiro looked at the old profile. “We stop expecting a recent break.” “Yes.” “We stop looking for somebody who suddenly became unstable.” “Yes.” “We look for long-term modification.” Shammy added: “Long-term preparation.” Mai nodded. Reyes: “Someone who can sit on an advantage.” Ace: “Someone who doesn’t need to win right now.” That one mattered. Kiro typed it. **PRESERVES FUTURE OPTIONS** Ace read the line. Made a face. “I hate that.” Reyes looked at her. “Why?” “Sounds like Mai.” Mai raised an eyebrow. Ace pointed at her. “You know it does.” Mai said nothing. Ace looked at Reyes. “See?” Reyes nodded. “Terrifying.” Mai ignored both. Shammy looked at the old record. “He can stop.” Kiro looked at her. “What?” “He can stop doing something before it feels finished.” Ace’s expression changed. Mai nodded. “Yes.” Reyes understood. “No need for the last hit.” “No,” Mai said. “No need for the last word.” Ace looked at her. “Now you’re just being unrealistic.” Reyes snorted. Shammy continued: “If leaving is better, he leaves.” Kiro typed another line. **DISENGAGES WITHOUT EMOTIONAL COMMITMENT** Ace stared. “Jesus.” Mai said: “Again, useful.” “That sounds like a breakup guide.” Reyes looked at her. “Personal experience?” Ace smiled. “Trying to create some.” Mai said: “Ace.” “Stress response.” Shammy said: “Consistent.” Ace looked at her. “You are becoming dangerous.” “Obiviously.” Kiro went back to the current case. The old encounter did not identify their killer. It did something more useful. It changed the assumptions around him. If this was the same man, or even merely the same type of mind, baiting him through anger would be unreliable. Cornering him would not guarantee recklessness. Pressure would not necessarily accelerate him. Threats might simply make him wait. And waiting was exactly what they could no longer afford. Kiro said: “We need where.” Mai looked at her. “Yes.” Reyes stepped beside the platform model. “What does the body need?” Kiro started listing. “Power.” Mai: “Cooling.” Kiro nodded. “Fabrication.” Shammy: “Testing.” Reyes: “Privacy.” Ace: “Enough room for him to swing his shitty katana impression around.” Kiro looked at her. “Annoyingly, yes.” Ace smiled. “Contribution.” Mai continued: “Maintenance.” “Definitely.” “Storage.” “Yes.” “High-current equipment.” “Yes.” “Precision actuators.” “Yes.” Shammy looked at the counterfeit platform. “He cannot build himself nowhere.” Kiro smiled faintly. “No.” Ace looked around. “Workshop.” Nobody disagreed. Kiro opened a new search. Industrial spaces. Abandoned fabrication sites. Illegal machine shops. Closed ripper facilities. Unregistered power anomalies. High-output equipment thefts. Cooling systems. Precision actuator stock. Gray-market supply chains. Results multiplied immediately. Ace leaned closer. Reyes grabbed the back of her jacket. Ace turned. “What?” “Breathing.” “I am allowed.” “Somewhere else.” Ace stared. Then looked at Kiro. “You started this.” Kiro did not look up. “How?” “Existing near me.” “That sounds exhausting.” “It is.” Shammy said: “For everyone.” Ace slowly turned. Shammy looked back. “Pressure valve.” Ace burst out laughing. Even Mai smiled at that one. Briefly. Then Kiro found a cluster. Stopped. Mai saw it immediately. “What?” “Maybe nothing.” Ace raised her cup. Kiro pointed at her. “Do not.” Ace lowered it. “You trained me.” “I regret everything.” Kiro expanded the data. An old fabrication unit. Officially empty. Power disconnected on record. Property ownership buried under dead holding companies. Nothing conclusive. But intermittent unexplained load appeared in the surrounding grid. Short. Heavy. Irregular. Mai leaned closer. “How recent?” Kiro checked. “Four days.” Reyes came around the table. “Enough power for our platform?” “Potentially.” Shammy looked at the thermal model. “Enough heat?” Kiro nodded slowly. “Potentially.” Ace’s expression sharpened. “Component links?” “Indirect.” “Meaning?” “Some equipment compatible with our requirements passed through gray-market channels tied to warehouses in the same industrial corridor.” Mai said: “Not identity.” “No.” “Not proof.” “No.” “Workshop candidate?” Kiro looked at the map. Then the platform. Then the power anomalies. “Medium.” Ace exhaled. “Finally, a word with a spine.” Mai ignored her. “Trap probability?” Kiro smiled without humor. “If it belongs to the person we think it might?” Mai waited. “High.” Reyes checked her weapon. “Good.” Ace looked at her. “You keep saying that about traps.” “I like known problems.” Ace smiled. “That’s hot.” “No.” “Still needs work.” Mai stood. “We approach as if the site was meant to be found.” Kiro nodded. “Agreed.” Shammy looked at the old behavioral profile. “And as if he knows pressure will make us hurry.” Mai looked at her. “Yes.” Ace checked both katanas. “Controlled.” Mai looked at her. Ace sighed. “Yes, mother.” Mai’s expression changed. Ace immediately held up both hands. “Figure of speech.” Shammy looked between them. Reyes covered her mouth. Kiro made a sound somewhere between a cough and laugh. Mai stared at Ace. Ace slowly backed toward the door. “Moving.” “Good.” “Very controlled.” “Less talking.” “Impossible.” Reyes passed her. “I can help.” Ace grinned. “Promises.” Reyes kept walking. Ace followed. Kiro packed the portable rig. Shammy stood beside Mai for a moment. Her gaze went back to the old incident. Not to the size. Not to the chrome. To the behavioral notes. Mai noticed. “What?” Shammy thought. Then: “He did not make the room quieter.” Mai frowned slightly. Shammy continued. “He made everyone else louder.” Ace stopped at the doorway. Kiro looked up. Reyes turned. Shammy looked at them. “People became impatient because he was not.” Silence. Ace stared at her. Then slowly nodded. “That’s exactly what it felt like.” Mai looked at Rogue’s countdown. At the workshop candidate. At the five murdered couriers. At Night City beginning to put prices beside their names. “He is doing it again.” Kiro’s expression tightened. “Maybe.” Ace lifted the cup. Kiro did not even look. “Fuck you.” Ace smiled. “Still functioning.” Mai headed for the door. Five people followed. The old cyberpsycho file stayed open behind them. No technical miracle. No retroactive answer. Just three people who remembered the same thing from different angles. Ace remembered the danger. Mai remembered the discipline. Shammy remembered the pressure. And all three remembered the man who had refused to lose control simply because everyone around him expected him to. Now someone had spent years building a counterfeit Triad. If it was the same man, he had changed. If it was not, the distinction might not matter enough. Because whoever waited at the end of this investigation had learned the same lesson: Patience made other people hurry. And hurried people made mistakes. --- # CHAPTER 11 — THE WORKSHOP The building looked dead. That was the first problem. Night City did not do dead cleanly. Abandoned buildings sagged. They leaked. They attracted scavengers, squatters, gangs, graffiti, jury-rigged power, broken shutters, somebody cooking something illegal in a back room. This one just sat there. Old fabrication unit. Two stories. Reinforced loading access. No external signage left. No obvious occupation. No visible power. No obvious cameras. No visible guards. Ace stood across the street and stared at it. “I hate it.” Reyes stood beside her. “You hate most buildings.” “This one deserves it.” Kiro crouched behind the remains of a delivery terminal with her portable rig open. Mai watched the building through optics. Shammy stood farther back, eyes half-lidded, feeling the space rather than looking at it. Ace glanced toward her. “Well?” Shammy did not answer immediately. Ace waited. That alone said enough. Finally: “It is quiet.” Ace frowned. “Bad quiet?” Shammy considered. “Prepared quiet.” Reyes looked toward her. “That is somehow worse.” “Yes.” Mai lowered the optics. “No movement on visible access.” Kiro said: “Visible being the important word.” Ace looked at her. “Any active systems?” “Something.” “What kind?” Kiro frowned at the readings. “Very low-power local mesh.” Mai came over. “Surveillance?” “Maybe.” Ace looked at the building. “Maybe is getting fucking crowded today.” Kiro ignored her. “Not broadcasting. Not tied to city infrastructure. Could be environmental controls. Could be sensors. Could be dead equipment whispering to itself.” Reyes checked the side alley. “Could be bait.” “Yes.” Ace smiled thinly. “Finally, a category I understand.” Mai looked at her. “Controlled.” Ace sighed. “I know.” Shammy looked toward the roofline. “He wants people to look for the obvious things.” Mai turned. “What do you see?” “Nothing.” Ace stared. Shammy added: “That is the point.” Kiro looked at the building again. Mai nodded slowly. No external defenses. No visible motion. No obvious security. Too little. Not reassuring. Curated. Reyes said: “Back access?” Kiro brought up the site map. “Service alley here. Roof hatch here. Old materials loading door on west side.” Ace looked. “Front?” “Too obvious.” Ace smiled. “Which makes it maybe not obvious.” Reyes looked at her. “No.” “What?” “We are not doing recursive stupidity.” Ace looked offended. “That was tactical sophistication.” “That was you trying to justify using the front door.” “Same family.” Mai ignored them. “Kiro.” “Yes?” “Can you tell whether the mesh is monitoring entry points?” “Not without touching it harder.” “Risk?” “Alerting whoever left it.” Mai looked at the building. “Assume already alerted.” Kiro glanced over. Mai continued: “If this site belongs to him and if it was intended to be discoverable, then our presence nearby may already be part of the expected sequence.” Ace looked at the blank windows. “Cheerful.” Reyes said: “Useful.” Ace looked at her. “You two are becoming disturbingly compatible.” Mai and Reyes both answered: “No.” Ace grinned. Shammy looked at them. “Very compatible.” Ace pointed. “Thank you.” Mai exhaled through her nose. Then: “West loading door.” Reyes nodded. “Least exposed.” Kiro packed the rig enough to move. Ace drew one katana. Mai looked at the blade. Ace shrugged. “What?” “Subtle.” “He carved my fucking collar into five foreheads.” Mai held her gaze. Ace’s expression flattened. Then she sheathed it again. “Fine.” Reyes murmured: “Growth.” Ace turned. “Keep talking and I’ll regress.” They crossed the street. No one stopped them. That was problem two. The west loading door had been welded shut once. Then cut open. Then repaired. Then cut again. Reyes touched the edge. “Recent.” Mai looked at her. “How recent?” “Not today.” “Helpful.” Reyes looked back. “You want metallurgy, ask the nerds.” Kiro said: “I heard that.” “I know.” Ace smiled. “Nerd mating, industrial edition.” Kiro stopped walking. Mai looked at Ace. Shammy said: “Would industrial mating require protective equipment?” Reyes closed her eyes. Ace made a strangled sound. Kiro stared at Shammy. Shammy looked around. “What?” Mai pinched the bridge of her nose. Ace whispered: “I fucking adore you.” Shammy nodded. “Yes.” Reyes shook her head. Then the door moved. Everyone stopped. Not opened. Moved. Barely. Reyes looked down. A pressure shift. Mai pointed. “Trap.” Ace froze. Kiro crouched. Found the thin sensor contact. Not explosive. Not obvious. Just a tell. A simple magnetic state monitor buried in the frame. Kiro stared. “Fuck.” Mai asked: “Triggered?” “Yes.” Ace looked into the dark gap beyond the door. “Meaning?” Kiro stood. “Meaning if anyone is listening, they know this door changed state.” Reyes said: “And if nobody is listening?” “Then it recorded us.” Ace looked at the building. “Cute.” Mai said: “No.” Ace glanced over. “No?” “Not cute.” Ace smiled. “See? Pressure.” Shammy looked at the door. “He wanted to know when.” Silence. Ace’s smile vanished. There it was again. When. Not whether. When. Mai nodded. “Proceed.” They entered. The air smelled wrong. Not rotten. Not abandoned. Metal. Dust. Old coolant. Ozone. Cleaning solvent. Ace stopped just inside. Reyes almost walked into her. “What?” Ace looked down. Floor. Sweep marks. Not clean. Maintained. There was a difference. Reyes saw it. “Someone cleared traffic paths.” Mai looked. Yes. Not recently enough to leave fresh polish. But enough to keep debris from accumulating where someone walked regularly. Kiro scanned. “Power traces ahead.” Shammy looked up. “Heat used to be here.” Ace glanced toward her. “How long?” “I do not know.” “Recent?” Shammy thought. “Not warm.” Ace smiled faintly. “Excellent technical unit.” Kiro muttered: “Shut up.” They moved deeper. The first room had been fabrication. Heavy tables. Tool mounts. Empty racks. One dismantled industrial arm. Several cabinets left open. Not smashed. Opened. Cleared. Mai stopped. “He packed.” Reyes looked around. “Fast?” Mai shook her head. “No.” Ace went still. Kiro saw it too. No scattered tools. No abandoned personal junk. No half-drunk container. No emergency mess. No hurried escape. The absence had structure. Ace said: “He fucking cleaned.” Mai nodded. “Selective removal.” Kiro walked to the first cabinet. Labels remained. Fasteners. Actuator seals. Thermal interface compounds. Nothing sensitive. Nothing identifying. Reyes looked into another. “Left the boring shit.” “Exactly,” Mai said. Ace stared at the room. “So he expected company.” Shammy said: “Yes.” No one argued. They moved on. The second room changed everything. Ace entered first. Then stopped so hard Reyes had to sidestep her. The wall opposite was covered in blade marks. Hundreds. Different heights. Different angles. Different spacing. Some deep. Some shallow. Some paired. Some single. Ace said nothing. Mai came beside her. Kiro stared. Reyes looked at Ace instead of the wall. Shammy entered last. The marks continued across reinforced panels. Measured grids had been painted beneath them. Foot-placement lines on the floor. Movement lanes. Distance markers. Ace slowly walked forward. “Oh.” Reyes heard the tone. Not funny. Not yet. Ace touched one of the cut lines with two fingers. Deep. Too deep for a light test. She moved to another. Paired. Opposite directions. Reset. Then another. Different. More fluid. Ace’s expression became hard. “He practiced.” Mai nodded. “Repeatedly.” Kiro started photographing. Local only. No outbound transmission. Reyes looked at the floor. “Movement marks.” Ace followed. Scuffs. Heel turns. Toe loading. Repeated stance positions. She crouched. Looked. Then stood. “Early ones are wrong.” Mai came closer. “How?” Ace pointed. “Too wide.” Another. “Too square.” Another. “He keeps ending planted.” Reyes looked at the later marks. “And those?” Ace moved. Traced the foot positions. Her jaw tightened. “Less wrong.” Silence. Kiro looked at her. “He improved.” Ace did not answer. Shammy stood near the earliest strike wall. “He learned from trying.” Mai looked around. “And from new observation.” Ace moved deeper into the room. Another set of marks. Lower. Faster transition. Still not Ace. But closer. That was the problem. Closer. Reyes watched Ace’s shoulders. Tension building. She said: “Hey.” Ace looked over. Reyes nodded toward the wall. “Still not you.” Ace stared at her. Then exhaled. “Yeah.” Mai looked at Reyes. Stored it. Ace returned to the marks. “Still ugly.” Reyes almost smiled. “There she is.” Kiro found the arm rig. Not intact. A test fixture. Heavy reinforced mount. Two actuator tracks. Thermal scoring. Mai came over. “This housed the blades.” Kiro nodded. “Or prototypes.” Ace looked at the track length. “Long.” “Yes.” “Current model long?” Kiro measured. “Close.” Mai said: “Do not assume final dimensions.” “I’m not.” Ace looked at the scoring. “These were deployed under load.” Kiro nodded. “Repeatedly.” Shammy looked at the wall. “Enough to hurt the room.” Ace smiled coldly. “Good.” Reyes looked at her. “Why good?” “Because I’m tired of being the only one insulted.” Reyes shook her head. They found the disruptor testing room next. It had not survived gracefully. Rows of dead electronics. Old boards. Industrial controllers. Cyberware shells. Power management units. Vehicle subsystems. Cheap devices. Expensive devices. Some burned. Some ruptured. Some apparently intact. Mai entered. Stopped. The humor left her face completely. Ace looked at her. “Bad?” Mai did not answer. Kiro went straight to the nearest bench. Mai followed. The remains had been arranged. Chronologically? Maybe. By test family? Probably. Labels had been stripped. But the failure patterns told their own story. Mai picked up a damaged controller. Looked inside. Set it down. Another. Then another. Kiro understood. “Early.” Mai nodded. “Crude.” Ace stood back. For once not interfering. Mai moved farther down the bench. Failures changed. Less explosive. More selective. Components taken out in sequence. Still wrong. Still forcing consequences. But evolving. Kiro said: “He was learning how to make the lie cleaner.” Mai’s expression hardened. “Yes.” Shammy came closer. “Not how your weapon works.” Mai shook her head. “No.” “How people recognize it.” “Yes.” Ace leaned against the doorframe. “Headline engineering.” Kiro looked over. Ace shrugged. “You started it.” Mai found a final test article. Burn pattern. Dead systems. Minimal collateral. Still technically false. Visually persuasive. She stared at it. Then said: “He got very good at being wrong.” Nobody laughed. Because that was exactly what it was. Kiro documented everything. Not just images. Failure sequencing. Power traces. Component damage. Thermal residue. Enough to compare later. Enough to tell Rogue what they had found. Not enough yet. Not proof of identity. But proof of deliberate counterfeit development. The next room belonged to Shammy. Everyone knew before she said anything. The floor had black branching scars. Walls too. Metal plates. Concrete. Ceramic. Glass. Some patterns beautiful. Some violent. Some absurd. Shammy entered slowly. Ace stayed beside her. Not touching. Just there. Shammy looked at the first test area. “This one is bad.” Ace glanced around. “They all look bad.” Shammy shook her head. “No.” She pointed. “Bad imitation.” Kiro came closer. Shammy followed the branch. “It spreads because the emitter cannot decide.” Mai looked. “Instability?” “Yes.” Another. “This one forces branching.” Ace frowned. “For the look?” “Yes.” Another. Later. Cleaner. More deliberate. Shammy crouched near a glassed section of concrete. Touched beside it. Not on. “He changed the surface.” Kiro asked: “Material?” “No.” Shammy looked at the pattern. “The way he hit it.” Mai understood. “To reproduce the visible scar.” “Yes.” Ace stared at the wall. “So he practiced making lightning pose.” Shammy looked at her. “Yes.” The phrase returned like something unpleasant crawling home. Someone made the lightning pose. Here. Literally. Repeatedly. Shammy stood. “He improved.” Mai nodded. “Again.” Shammy looked at the latest test section. The branching pattern was disturbingly close to what had been photographed at the murder scene. Not true. Not hers. But close enough for everyone outside the room. Shammy said: “He learned what people expect to see.” Ace looked at her. “Not what you do.” “No.” “Good.” Shammy looked back. “That is not reassuring.” Ace sighed. “I know.” Reyes stood near the doorway. Watching all three of them. Three rooms. Three counterfeit systems. Not theoretical anymore. One place. One development cycle. One person or one workshop team. Kiro said: “This is enough to strengthen single-platform.” Mai nodded. “Substantially.” Ace looked at her. “Can we finally say one asshole?” Mai considered. “One primary developer or tightly unified development effort.” Ace stared. Reyes said: “She physically cannot.” Kiro laughed. Ace pointed at Mai. “Someday.” Mai ignored her. Then they found the emblem room. And nobody joked. It was small. Too small. A side room. Concrete wall. One chair. One table. Synthetic skin sheets. Some cheap. Some medical training grade. Some mounted over curved skull analogs. Ace stood in the doorway. Stopped. Reyes saw her hand go to the collar. The emblem had been cut over and over. Too shallow. Too broad. Wrong proportions. Then closer. Cleaner. Again. Again. Again. Until the final practice marks looked like the one carved into the couriers. Ace did not move. Mai came behind her. Shammy stayed back. Kiro lowered her rig. Even she stopped documenting for several seconds. Reyes stepped beside Ace. Not in front. Beside. Ace stared at the closest practice head. The emblem was almost perfect. Her fingers tightened around the collar at her throat. Reyes said quietly: “Hey.” Ace looked at her. Reyes did not say it again. That isn’t you. She did not need to. Ace understood. Her hand dropped. “Document everything.” Kiro nodded. Work resumed. That helped. Mai examined the cutting tools left behind. Cheap. Replaceable. Clean. No identifying residue. “He removed the actual implement.” Ace said: “Of course he did.” Shammy looked at the wall. “Why leave this?” No one answered immediately. Then Mai did. “Because he wants the development seen.” Ace turned. “Why?” Mai looked toward the three testing rooms behind them. “Because once we see this, we stop arguing whether the signatures were accidental similarities.” Kiro nodded. “He gives us certainty on the counterfeit.” Reyes frowned. “Why help us?” Mai’s face hardened. “Because this is not help.” Silence. Ace looked around. The workshop had been cleared. Sensitive equipment gone. Identity traces gone. Current hardware gone. But the story of the build remained. Exactly enough. Kiro said: “He decides what we learn.” Mai nodded. “And when.” Shammy looked toward her. “When.” Again. Ace swore softly. They moved deeper. The last major room was larger. And worse. Not because of weapons. Because of them. Screens covered one wall. Most physically dead. Storage removed. But printed stills remained. Old-fashioned. Deliberate. Ace. Mai. Shammy. Years. Different places. Different image quality. Public shots. Security captures. Merc footage. Bad screenshots. Afterlife-adjacent photos. Street images. Combat stills. Some zoomed until useless. Some annotated. Ace stared. “Oh, fuck this.” Mai walked toward the wall. Kiro moved slowly. Reyes did not. She stopped. Because she was there too. Barely. One image. Ace and Reyes leaving a location together. Reyes partly obscured. No annotation beyond: **RECURRENT** Another. Reyes near Ace. Different month. **PROXIMITY** Kiro found herself next. Tiny. At the edge of a market image with Mai. One annotation. **SIGNAL ASSOCIATE?** Kiro stared. Ace saw it. “Oh.” Reyes looked toward her own photographs. Then toward Ace. The difference was immediate. Ace had pages. Movement diagrams. Height estimates. Stride estimates. Weapon assumptions. Collar studies. Behavioral notes. Mai had technical outcome trees. Positioning. Observed weapon effects. Shammy had environmental diagrams. Electrical events. Stories cross-referenced against images. Reyes? Three photographs. Kiro? Four. Sparse. Peripheral. Poorly integrated. Mai saw it. “He does not understand you.” Reyes looked at the wall. “Good.” Kiro nodded. “Very good.” Ace turned. “He forgot four people.” The line from Chapter Seven came back. Not arithmetic. Not literally. Meaning. Reyes looked at her. Ace looked at Kiro. Then back to the wall. “He still thinks the three of us are the system.” Mai nodded slowly. “Yes.” Shammy looked at Reyes’s sparse notes. “He sees people near us.” Then Kiro’s. “But not why.” Kiro felt something click. “He categorizes by visible function.” Mai looked at her. “Explain.” Kiro pointed at herself. “He has me as signal support.” Then Reyes. “Reyes as proximity or recurring combat adjacency.” Reyes’s mouth tightened. “That sounds romantic.” Ace looked at her. “I think it is.” “No.” Kiro continued. “He doesn’t model relationships.” Shammy looked at the wall. “He cannot see them from outside.” Mai said: “Exactly.” Ace stared at years of observation. The killer had watched. Collected. Built. Mapped. Measured. And still missed the actual architecture. Not weapons. People. Decision flow. Trust. Who moved because someone else moved. Who stopped Ace. Who gave Mai confidence to hold. Who saw pressure. Who created timing. Who broke patterns. The wall had data. An extraordinary amount. And no understanding. Ace smiled. This time it was real. Small. Cold. Dangerous. Reyes noticed. “What?” Ace looked at the wall. “He still doesn’t know us.” Mai followed her gaze. “No.” Kiro said: “He knows more.” Ace nodded. “Still doesn’t know us.” Shammy looked at the sparse Reyes and Kiro notes. “He has not studied the spaces between.” Nobody spoke. Mai looked at her. Shammy continued: “He studied what each person appears to do.” She pointed toward Ace. “Blade.” Mai. “Disruption.” Herself. “Lightning.” Then Reyes. “Nearby.” Kiro. “Signal.” Shammy lowered her hand. “He does not have the parts that happen because someone else is there.” Ace stared. That was it. Again. Simple. Terrible. Useful. Kiro opened a fresh local note. **MODEL FAILURE: RELATIONAL / ADAPTIVE NETWORK** Reyes looked at it. “Sexy.” Kiro glanced toward Ace. “Apparently contagious.” Ace smiled. “Proud of you.” Mai examined the wall further. Something was wrong. Not missing. Placed. She stepped closer. One sequence of images. Ace fighting. Mai covering. Shammy behind. Old. Then newer. Then much newer. Annotations became denser. But stopped. Abruptly. Kiro came over. “What?” Mai pointed. “No current week.” Kiro checked. “Nothing from the murders.” Reyes frowned. “Why?” Ace looked around. “Because he’s done studying?” Mai shook her head. “Or because the workshop was already abandoned before the killings.” Silence. Kiro checked physical dust patterns. Equipment removal. Power timeline. Recent anomaly four days ago. But the newest observation material was older. Not by much. Enough. Kiro said: “He stopped developing here before the final operation.” Mai nodded. “This is not his active base.” Ace looked at the room. “We knew that.” “No.” Mai turned toward her. “We suspected it.” Ace sighed. “Fine.” Mai continued: “He left this place before the framing phase completed.” Reyes looked at the walls. “Then why the power four days ago?” Kiro’s expression changed. She moved. Fast. Back toward the entry systems. Mai followed. Ace drew both katanas this time. No objection. Kiro reached the first junction box. Opened it. Stared. “What?” Reyes came up behind. Kiro looked at the power controller. Then laughed once. No humor. “That motherfucker.” Mai said: “Explain.” Kiro pointed. The high-load events were artificial. Not entirely fake. Real power had been drawn. But not for fabrication. A resistive load bank. Heating elements. Old motors. Nothing useful. Enough to create the signature of active industrial work. Ace stared. “He made the fucking building look occupied.” “Yes.” “Four days ago.” “Yes.” Mai went cold. “So the lead was manufactured.” Kiro nodded. “Partially.” Reyes looked around. “He wanted us here.” Shammy stood in the corridor. Very still. Ace looked at her. “What?” Shammy’s eyes moved toward the ceiling. Not fear. Listening. “The building is not quiet anymore.” Everyone froze. Kiro grabbed her rig. “What changed?” Shammy looked toward the walls. “Us.” A beat. “We changed it.” Mai understood first. “Not environmental.” Shammy shook her head. “No.” Ace looked around. “The pressure.” “Yes.” Kiro checked the local mesh. Her expression changed. “Traffic.” Mai snapped: “Source?” “Internal.” “Destination?” Kiro stared. “None.” Reyes frowned. “What does that mean?” “It means sensors are talking to each other.” Ace looked toward the exit. “Triggered by us?” “Yes.” “How much?” Kiro’s face tightened. “Enough to reconstruct movement.” Mai said: “He wanted the route.” Kiro nodded. “Entry time. Room sequence. dwell time.” Reyes stared. “He’s studying the investigation.” Silence. That was worse than a bomb. A bomb ended one thing. This collected another. Ace said: “Kill it.” Kiro was already moving. “No central off-switch.” “Of course not.” “I can blind sections.” “Do it.” Kiro attacked the mesh locally. Not hacking the building into obedience. Cutting eyes. One at a time. Small windows. Shammy watched the pressure. Mai watched timing. Reyes watched doors. Ace watched everything. Kiro said: “West corridor blind for twelve seconds.” Mai: “Move.” They moved. Another node. Kiro forced it noisy. “Seven seconds.” Reyes first. Ace behind. Shammy. Mai. Kiro last. No panic. No rushing. Because that was what he wanted. Pressure making them hurry. Mai said: “Slow enough to think.” Ace nodded. “Fast enough not to become a fucking documentary.” Reyes said: “Best tactical briefing today.” They reached the main fabrication room. Kiro killed another sensor path. “Twenty seconds.” Mai looked toward the wall of blade marks. All that practice. All that observation. And now this. A workshop abandoned deliberately. A false power trail. Evidence curated for discovery. Sensors left not to defend the place— to watch whoever came to understand it. Kiro looked at the local storage core. Small. Embedded. “Got you.” Ace turned. “What?” “Local sensor buffer.” Mai came over. “Can we take it?” “Yes.” “Safely?” Kiro stared. “Define.” “No.” Ace said: “Take it.” Mai looked at her. Ace pointed. “We need what he recorded.” Kiro nodded. “And if it’s booby-trapped?” Reyes said: “Then we stop calling that a known problem.” Kiro almost smiled. She isolated power. Waited. Checked. Then physically removed the storage module. No explosion. No purge. No obvious transmission. Kiro held it up. Ace looked disappointed. “What?” “I expected more drama.” Reyes said: “You complain when things explode.” “I contain multitudes.” Shammy looked toward the entrance. “We should leave.” Mai nodded. “Agreed.” They moved. No running. No hesitation. Outside, the street looked exactly as it had before. Dead fabrication building. Empty road. No shooter. No drone strike. No cyberpsycho waiting on the roof. Nothing. Ace hated that more. Kiro checked the module. “Local record survived.” Mai looked at her. “How much?” “Enough.” “Any outbound?” “Not from the storage unit.” “From the building?” “Unknown.” Ace looked back at the windows. “So maybe he knows exactly what we did.” Kiro nodded. Likely. Reyes looked at Ace. Ace smiled without humor. “Don’t.” “I didn’t say anything.” “You were going to tell me not to get angry.” “No.” “What?” Reyes checked the street. “I was going to tell you he wants you angry.” Ace went still. Then exhaled. “Fuck.” Mai looked back at the building once. “He gave us the workshop.” Shammy nodded. “The old one.” “Yes.” Kiro held the sensor module. “And maybe took notes while we read it.” Reyes looked toward the wall behind which her own three pathetic photographs remained. “But he still left something useful.” Mai turned. “What?” Reyes looked at Ace. Then Kiro. Then Shammy. Then Mai. “He thinks he knows who matters.” Silence. Ace smiled. There it was. Not relief. Opportunity. Kiro nodded slowly. “He modeled the Triad.” Shammy said: “He did not model us.” Mai’s eyes narrowed. Ace looked back at the building. Years of study. Three counterfeit weapons. Three external signatures. Three people analyzed until myth became hardware. And two more people reduced to footnotes. Ace touched the hilt of one katana. “Good.” Reyes looked at her. “You keep saying that.” Ace turned. This time the smile had teeth. “He wants data?” Mai watched her carefully. Ace continued: “Then next time we give him the wrong fucking lesson.” Kiro checked the countdown. **08:46:12** Nobody needed Mai to correct it. Less than nine hours. The workshop had given them evidence. A stronger platform model. A development history. A map of what the killer understood. And something better. A map of what he did not. Mai looked at all five of them. “He expected three.” Ace nodded. “Then we make sure he gets five.” --- # CHAPTER 12 — THE COMBAT MODEL Kiro waited until the workshop was six blocks behind them before saying: “He recorded everything.” Ace looked across the vehicle. “Define everything.” “No.” Ace stared. Kiro had the removed storage module isolated inside a shielded reader on her lap. “No?” “I’m not defining that while we’re moving.” “Why?” “Because I would like to know whether this thing contains data, malware, a bomb, a personality construct, or forty-seven terabytes of you scratching your ass.” Reyes looked at Ace. Ace pointed at her. “Don’t.” “I didn’t say anything.” “You were going to.” Reyes looked toward Kiro. “Forty-seven seems high.” “Fuck you both.” Mai drove. Shammy sat beside her, looking out through the windshield. The workshop had disappeared behind industrial concrete and advertising light. Nothing followed. Nothing visible. That meant nothing. Mai said: “We do not take it to the safehouse.” Kiro nodded. “Already assumed.” Ace looked forward. “Where?” “Secondary analysis site.” Reyes glanced at Mai. “We have one?” Mai answered: “Yes.” Ace leaned back. “Of course we have one.” Mai looked at her through the mirror. “You have been there.” Ace paused. “Oh.” Reyes smiled. Ace frowned. “It was dark.” “It was daytime.” “Emotionally dark.” Kiro looked down at the module. “Please keep doing this.” Ace glanced over. “Why?” “It keeps me from thinking about the fact somebody spent years building murder cosplay around three people I know.” Shammy turned from the window. “It is not cosplay anymore.” Silence. Kiro nodded once. “No.” It wasn't. That had been easier when it was abstract. A fake signature. An imitation. A cyberpsycho reproducing external effects. The workshop had removed the distance. He had stood in those rooms. Practiced. Failed. Adjusted. Practiced again. Ace’s movement. Mai’s aftermath. Shammy’s scars. Her collar emblem. Years compressed into hardware. Reyes looked at Ace. Ace noticed. “What?” “Nothing.” “That’s twice today.” “Maybe I’m learning.” “Terrible habit.” Reyes kept watching her. Ace knew why. The emblem room. Her hand going to the collar. The synthetic heads. Reyes did not mention it. That helped. Mai turned off the main road. “We assume the workshop sensors transmitted nothing?” Kiro looked at the module. “No.” Mai waited. Kiro corrected: “We assume nothing about transmission.” “Better.” “I hate you.” “No.” Ace looked between them. “Very compatible.” Both ignored her. Shammy said: “Yes.” Mai sighed. --- The secondary site was beneath an old commercial storage block. No signage. No windows. Two exits. Independent power. Enough shielding that Kiro visibly relaxed when the inner door closed. Ace noticed. “There. Nerd nest.” Kiro put the isolated module on the central table. “Touch anything and I remove your fingers.” Ace held up both hands. “Hostile work environment.” Reyes sat on the edge of another table. “You have swords.” “Decorative.” Everyone looked at her. Ace smiled. “Fine.” Mai began laying out what they had physically recovered from the workshop. Images. Measurements. Environmental samples. Test patterns. Copies of the observation wall. Kiro connected the storage module through two layers of sacrificial hardware. Shammy watched. “What happens if it attacks?” Kiro pointed at the first device. “That dies.” Then the second. “That probably dies.” Then her own isolated terminal. “And if it gets through both?” Kiro looked at Ace. “I blame her.” Ace nodded. “Reasonable.” Reyes folded her arms. “Why her?” “Statistically.” “Again, reasonable.” Ace looked at Mai. “You hearing this abuse?” “Yes.” “And?” Mai sat down. “I support research.” Ace stared. Shammy smiled. The first reader came alive. Nothing happened. Kiro waited. Five seconds. Ten. Thirty. Ace opened her mouth. Kiro raised one finger. Ace closed it. Reyes looked impressed. Ace whispered: “Growth.” Kiro’s eyes stayed on the diagnostics. “No active execution.” Mai asked: “Encrypted?” “Partially.” “Can you read it?” “Eventually.” Ace looked at the clock. Kiro said: “Do not.” “I was looking.” “You look loudly.” Shammy came closer. “What is readable?” Kiro opened the raw structure. “Sensor event logs.” Mai moved beside her. “Movement?” “Probably.” “Probably?” Kiro pointed. “Door contacts. floor pressure. local short-range ranging. thermal presence. room dwell. motion vectors.” Reyes frowned. “He really did record how we moved through it.” “Yes.” Ace looked at the copied workshop layout. “Why?” Nobody answered immediately. Kiro began reconstructing. Five paths appeared. Rough. Incomplete. Door entry. Stops. Movement between rooms. Time spent. Positions. Ace recognized herself first. “Oh, fuck off.” Her track wandered farther than everyone else. Reyes looked. “You did touch everything.” “I investigated.” “You poked.” “With expertise.” Mai ignored them. “Kiro. Can the system distinguish identity?” “Not directly.” “Then how did it separate us?” “It didn’t.” Kiro pointed at the reconstruction. “I am.” Mai nodded. “Based on?” “Height. movement speed. path sequence. where I know we were.” Ace pointed at her own track. “Height?” “Yes.” “Delete that.” “No.” “Security risk.” “You are visibly small.” Shammy looked at Ace. “Very.” Ace slowly turned. “Et tu.” Shammy blinked. “That is not my name.” Reyes folded over laughing. Even Mai lost the fight for a second. Ace stared at Shammy. Then pointed both hands at her. “This. This is why I can never fucking win.” Shammy looked at Kiro. “Was I incorrect?” “No,” Kiro said. Ace groaned. “Back to murder.” That worked. Kiro reconstructed the remainder. The workshop had watched how they entered each room. Who stopped first. Who stayed near whom. How long they examined each system. When their movement accelerated. When it slowed. It had captured their exit sequence. Not thoughts. Not conversation. But behavior. Mai stared at the tracks. “He wanted response order.” Kiro nodded. “That would be my guess.” Reyes looked at the map. “To what?” “Discovery.” Mai pointed. “Ace enters blade room first.” Ace looked. “Yes.” “Kiro moves to technical apparatus.” “Yes.” “Shammy slows significantly in the electrical room.” Shammy nodded. “Yes.” “Reyes stays close to Ace in the emblem room.” Nobody joked. Reyes looked at her own track. “Yes.” Mai pointed again. “And when the sensor mesh activates?” The paths changed. Tighter. Faster. Ordered. Kiro pulled up timestamps. “He got our response to being observed.” Ace’s face hardened. “So we fed him.” “Yes.” Reyes looked at Kiro. “How much?” Kiro did not answer immediately. Mai noticed. “Kiro.” “Useful data.” Ace swore. Kiro looked at her. “Not enough.” Ace stopped. “Not enough for what?” Kiro enlarged the tracks. “He sees positions.” She pointed. “He sees sequence.” Another. “Maybe some movement characteristics.” Another. “He sees that when the site becomes active, we stop wandering and form an exit structure.” Reyes nodded. “He sees who went first.” “Yes.” “Who covered rear.” “Yes.” “Who stayed center.” “Yes.” Mai asked: “What does he not see?” Kiro looked at the map. “Why.” Silence. Shammy smiled slightly. “There.” Kiro nodded. “He doesn’t have comms.” Mai: “Correct.” “He doesn’t know who called the movement.” “Correct.” “He doesn’t know whether the order was planned or improvised.” “Correct.” “He doesn’t know what information each person had.” “Yes.” Reyes leaned closer. “So he has output again.” Kiro looked at her. Exactly. “Yes.” Ace stared at the tracks. “Another headline.” Mai nodded. “Five people entered. Five people left in an organized pattern.” “But not the mechanism.” “No.” Shammy looked at the reconstruction. “He watches the shape.” Ace looked toward her. “Not the pressure.” Shammy nodded. “Yes.” Kiro leaned back. The storage module became less frightening. Not harmless. Never harmless. But limited. A measurement device. Another external observer. Another machine recording consequences. Ace looked at the screen. “He just made the same fucking mistake again.” Mai immediately said: “Do not become comfortable.” Ace looked over. “I’m not.” “Good.” “He made the same mistake.” “Yes.” Mai’s gaze stayed on the reconstruction. “But with more data.” Ace nodded. “Yeah.” That was the problem. Wrong did not mean stupid. Wrong did not mean harmless. Wrong could get very close. Kiro finished isolating the data. “No outbound destination stored.” Mai asked: “Meaning?” “Meaning exactly that.” Ace lifted a finger. Mai said: “No.” Ace lowered it. Kiro continued. “The mesh could have transmitted through hardware he removed. Could have dumped through a burst relay. Could be fully local and intended for later physical retrieval.” Reyes frowned. “Would he come back?” Kiro looked at the module in her hand. “Not for this one.” Ace smiled. “We stole his notebook.” “No.” “Tiny notebook.” “No.” “Surveillance lunchbox.” Kiro stared. Reyes said: “That one’s not bad.” Kiro looked betrayed. Ace pointed at Reyes. “Growth.” Mai stood. “Assume he received the data.” That killed the joke. Kiro nodded. “Yes.” Mai moved to the copied observation material. “We need to determine what he believes it confirms.” Reyes looked at her. “About us.” “Yes.” Ace stood too. “Three weapons.” Mai nodded. “Start there.” Kiro brought up the reconstructed model from the workshop. Not the killer. The Triad. Or what he thought the Triad was. Ace. Fast close-range blade pressure. Mai. Electronic disruption and ranged control. Shammy. High-energy environmental attack. Three functional nodes. Kiro stared at it. “This is ugly.” Ace looked. “Thank you.” “I mean conceptually.” “Less thank you.” Mai studied the diagrams. The killer’s notes were incomplete, but the structure was obvious now. He had categorized. Reduced. Simplified. Not crudely. Efficiently. Ace created immediate physical pressure. Mai broke systems and controlled space. Shammy introduced high-energy uncertainty. Three threats. Three response families. Reyes and Kiro barely existed. Ace looked at Reyes’s few notes. “Nearby.” Reyes gave her a flat look. “Don’t.” Ace smiled. “Proximity.” “No.” “Recurring.” “Ace.” “Romantic combat adjacency.” Reyes stood. Ace immediately moved behind Shammy. Shammy looked at her. “Why are you here?” “Pressure management.” Reyes pointed. “Move.” Ace hugged Shammy from behind. “No.” Shammy considered. “This is not helping pressure.” Ace looked over her shoulder. “It helps mine.” Mai said: “Enough.” Ace released Shammy. “Oppression.” Kiro was still staring at the model. “He built responses.” Mai turned. “What?” Kiro enlarged one section. The workshop photographs had included handwritten geometry around several Ace movement diagrams. Not merely observation. Prediction. Kiro aligned them. “Look.” Mai came closer. So did Reyes. Ace stayed back half a second longer. Then joined them. Lines. Angles. Estimated entry paths. Expected attack transitions. Mai’s likely positions relative to Ace. Shammy’s likely spacing. Kiro said: “This isn’t just descriptive.” Mai’s face changed. “No.” Reyes looked. “He’s planning counters.” “Yes.” Ace stared. The diagrams were not perfect. But they were good. Very good. If Ace entered from this angle, predicted blade sequence. If Mai held this distance, expected disruptor vector. If Shammy occupied open space, expected electrical attack geometry. Not fixed choreography. Probability. Branches. Alternate responses. Ace said: “That fucker.” No humor. Kiro flipped through more captures. The notes became denser. **PRESSURE RESPONSE** **RANGED SUPPORT SHIFT** **ELECTRICAL DENIAL** **BLADE COMMIT** Mai read silently. Then: “He has a combat model.” Reyes looked at her. “Of three people.” “Yes.” Shammy came closer. “How accurate?” Nobody answered quickly. Ace looked at Kiro. Kiro looked at Mai. Mai looked at the diagrams. “Enough.” Ace’s jaw tightened. “That is not a number.” “No.” “Good enough to hurt us?” “Yes.” Silence. Reyes looked at Ace. Ace did not joke. Mai continued: “He does not need to reproduce our actual decision process.” Kiro nodded. “He only needs useful prediction.” “If Ace usually responds to a particular opening in one of several ways, he can prepare for all of them.” Ace stared at the movement branches. “And force me toward the one he wants.” “Yes.” Shammy looked at her own section. “If I create space…” “He expects where,” Kiro said. Shammy nodded. “Not why.” “No.” Mai studied her own diagrams. “He predicts external function.” Ace looked at her. “But he can still shoot the external function in the fucking face.” “Yes.” Nobody liked that. Kiro began rebuilding the model digitally. Not trusting the killer’s labels. Just geometry. Observed tendencies. Likely counter-responses. The more she reconstructed, the worse it became. He had spent time. A lot. Ace’s model was deepest. Mai’s was more technical. Shammy’s had wider uncertainty. But all three were substantial. Reyes stood behind Kiro. “How does he beat it?” Kiro did not answer. Mai did. “He does not.” Reyes frowned. Mai pointed at the model. “This is not a victory plan.” Ace looked. “It sure as fuck looks like one.” “No.” Mai shook her head. “It is a decision-reduction plan.” Kiro understood. “Oh.” Ace looked between them. “English.” Mai pointed to Ace’s branches. “He cannot predict every movement.” “No one can.” “So he narrows them.” Another section. “He creates conditions where your useful choices become fewer.” Ace stared. Then understood. “Funnels.” “Yes.” Kiro nodded. “He doesn’t need to know what you’ll do if he makes only two things worth doing.” Reyes swore softly. Shammy looked at her model. “And if he knows both.” Mai nodded. “He prepares for both.” Ace stepped closer. “Patient.” “Yes.” There it was again. Not a monster trying to overpower them. A man willing to build the room before the fight. Reyes looked at the model. “How much of this depends on his hardware?” Kiro started separating assumptions. “Good question.” Ace looked at Reyes. “That was hot.” Reyes ignored her. Kiro built three columns. Blades. Disruptor-like emitter. Lightning generator. Then common infrastructure. Power. Cooling. Control. Mai pointed to the electrical systems. “We know both energy weapons run hot.” “Yes.” “Shared central architecture probable.” “Yes.” “Not proven.” Kiro stared at her. “I know.” “Say it.” “Shared central architecture probable, not proven.” “Thank you.” Ace looked at Reyes. “She enjoys this.” Mai said: “I hear you.” “Good.” Kiro continued. “Blade actuators also draw hard during deployment and recovery.” Reyes frowned. “So everything competes?” Kiro looked at her. “Potentially.” Mai immediately: “Do not oversimplify.” “I wasn’t.” Ace whispered to Reyes: “She was.” Kiro pointed at Ace without looking. “Die.” Ace smiled. Kiro brought up the workshop thermal evidence. “His systems appear designed around extreme short-duration output.” Shammy nodded. “Then recovery.” “Yes.” Mai looked closer. “Not cooldown in the simplistic sense.” “No.” Kiro adjusted. “Power stabilization. thermal redistribution. actuator reset. capacitor recovery. whatever his specific architecture requires.” Reyes said: “Windows.” Kiro nodded. “Small ones.” Ace’s eyes sharpened. “How small?” “Don’t know.” “Useful?” “Maybe.” Ace opened her mouth. Kiro pointed. “Not crowded.” Ace closed it. Shammy asked: “Could he use all three at once?” Kiro looked at the evidence. “Probably not at full output.” Mai nodded. “Agreed.” Ace looked between them. “That sounds useful.” “It is.” Kiro enlarged the model. “But not an off switch.” “No.” “Not a shutdown.” “No.” “Not even necessarily predictable in fixed intervals.” Mai nodded. “He may deliberately vary output.” “Exactly.” Reyes looked at Kiro. “So what can you do?” Kiro thought. Not hack him. Not seize the systems. Not turn the body off from across a room. That would be convenient. Convenient was bullshit. “I can watch.” Ace looked at her. Kiro continued. “If I can see enough telemetry indirectly—field emissions, power signatures, heat, control traffic if he exposes any—I can call transitions.” Mai nodded. “Likely availability.” “Yes.” “Recovery pressure.” “Yes.” “Maybe where he is borrowing power from one system to support another.” Kiro looked at the reconstructed architecture. “If the model is close.” Reyes said: “And if it isn’t?” “I swear professionally and update.” Ace smiled. “There she is.” Shammy looked at Kiro. “You create timing.” Kiro nodded slowly. “Yes.” Not control. Timing. That fit. Mai turned to Reyes. “And you.” Reyes raised an eyebrow. “What about me?” The room looked at the wall copy. Three photographs. **RECURRENT** **PROXIMITY** That was nearly everything the killer thought he knew. Reyes stared back. Then smiled. Not warmly. Ace saw it. “Oh, I like that face.” Reyes ignored her. Mai said: “He has insufficient model depth.” Reyes nodded. “Meaning?” Ace answered. “He knows you’re near me.” “Yes.” “He knows you fight.” “Probably.” “He doesn’t know how.” Reyes looked at her. “Some footage exists.” “Sure.” Ace shook her head. “But he hasn’t built you.” That mattered. Reyes looked toward Kiro. “And her?” Kiro pointed at **SIGNAL ASSOCIATE?** “I’m apparently decorative.” Ace smiled. “Hot decorative.” “Shut up.” Mai looked at both of them. “He has prepared to fight three known functions.” Shammy said: “And noticed two additional people.” “Yes.” Reyes folded her arms. “So don't make us additional.” Silence. Mai looked at her. Reyes continued: “Make us part of the problem.” Ace’s smile appeared slowly. Kiro looked at the combat model. Then added two nodes. Not outside. Inside. Five. The diagram became ugly immediately. Lines multiplied. Interactions. Ace to Reyes. Reyes to Mai. Kiro to Shammy. Mai to Ace. Shammy to everyone. Not fixed roles. Not a formation. A network. Kiro said: “Oh.” Ace looked at her. “Good oh?” “Very.” Mai came closer. The original model had clean branches. Three functional threats. Counter one. Counter two. Counter three. The five-person model did not. Because Kiro was not simply a fourth weapon. Reyes was not a fifth. They changed what the first three could safely do. Reyes could take a lane the killer expected Ace to occupy. Kiro could call a recovery window before Mai committed. Shammy could delay instead of discharge because Kiro saw power building elsewhere. Mai could hold fire because Reyes had already changed the physical angle. Ace could refuse an opening because someone else could exploit it. One person’s available choices altered another’s. Again. Again. Again. The branches exploded. Ace stared. “That looks like shit.” Kiro smiled. “Yes.” “Good shit?” “Beautiful shit.” Shammy looked at it. “He cannot reduce it the same way.” Mai held up one hand. “Careful.” Kiro nodded. “He can.” Ace frowned. “What?” “He can adapt.” The smile faded. Kiro pointed at the growing network. “He is patient. Observant. Technically capable. If he sees us operate as five, he will start learning.” Reyes nodded. “During the fight.” “Yes.” Mai looked at the model. “So the advantage decays.” Kiro nodded. “Fast, maybe.” Ace stared at the five nodes. “Then we don’t give him enough time.” Mai looked at her. Ace immediately added: “Not by rushing.” Mai said nothing. Ace smiled faintly. “Growth.” Reyes murmured: “Debatable.” Ace looked at her. “Still flirting.” “No.” Shammy said: “Yes.” Reyes stared at Shammy. Shammy smiled. Pressure dropped. Briefly. Then Kiro found something else. “Wait.” Mai turned. “What?” Kiro reopened photographs of the observation wall. Not the obvious diagrams. Margins. Partial sheets. Pieces near the edges of images. She zoomed. One note. Then another. Tiny. Reyes came closer. “What?” Kiro read: “Unexpected intervention.” Ace’s expression tightened. “Where?” Kiro traced the source. An old fight observation. Ace visible. Mai visible. Shammy visible. Someone else entered frame. Not Reyes. Not Kiro. Unknown merc. The killer’s note classified the intervention separately. **EXTERNAL VARIABLE** Another. A civilian vehicle altered movement. **ENVIRONMENTAL DISRUPTION** Another. Security response appeared unexpectedly. **MODEL CONTAMINATION** Mai went still. “He already understands uncontrolled variables.” Kiro nodded. Reyes looked at the five-person network. “So he’s not going to stare at me like I grew out of the floor.” “No.” Ace frowned. “Rude.” Kiro continued. “He has procedures for unknowns.” Mai looked at the notes. “Contain.” “Yes.” “Separate.” “Yes.” “Reclassify.” “Likely.” Shammy said: “Learn.” Kiro looked at her. “Yes.” Again, no miracle. Reyes and Kiro were an advantage. Not invisibility. Not immunity. The killer had not modeled them deeply. But he was built to deal with surprises. Ace stared at the copied notes. “That’s more like him.” Mai nodded. “Yes.” Patient. Never expecting perfection. Planning for the model to fail. That made him worse. It also made the answer clearer. Reyes said: “We cannot just arrive as five.” Mai looked at her. “No.” “We need to use five faster than he can turn us back into categories.” “Yes.” Kiro closed several screens. The combat model remained. Three clean nodes on one side. Five ugly interdependent ones on the other. Ace stared at them. “So that’s the game.” Mai looked toward her. “No.” Ace rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.” “Yes.” “What do you call it?” Mai studied the five-person diagram. “A counter-model.” Ace smiled. “Sexier.” Kiro checked the clock. **07:18:33** Seven hours. A little more. Not much. Reyes looked at it. “We still don’t know where he is.” “No,” Kiro said. Mai looked at the recovered data. “We know what he built.” Shammy: “What he expects.” Kiro: “What his systems probably cannot do continuously.” Reyes: “What he does not understand about us.” Ace looked at all four of them. “And what he does when surprised.” Mai nodded. “Yes.” Ace drew one katana. This time no one told her to put it away. She looked at the five-node model. Three people he had spent years studying. Two he had reduced to notes. A system he thought was made of weapons. Ace turned the blade once in her hand. “He expects a Triad.” Reyes looked at her. Kiro smiled. Shammy understood first. Mai did too. Ace sheathed the blade. “Let’s disappoint him.” --- # CHAPTER 13 — FIVE The first rule was simple. Nobody got to be themselves too predictably. Ace stared at Mai. “That sounds personally offensive.” “It is operational.” “Worse.” Reyes leaned against the table. “I support it.” Ace looked at her. “Of course you do.” Kiro did not look up from the combat model. “You’re the easiest one to predict.” Ace turned. “Excuse me?” “Fastest mover.” “That is not the same thing.” “Most aggressive opening tendency.” “Still not the same thing.” “Strong preference for solving geometry by entering it.” Reyes nodded. “That one.” Ace stared at both of them. “I hate this team.” Shammy said: “No.” Ace looked toward her. Shammy smiled. “You are very attached.” Ace pointed. “Not helping.” Mai stepped between the argument and the model. “We are not trying to behave randomly.” Kiro nodded. “Random is just another pattern if you watch long enough.” Reyes frowned. “And sloppy.” “Yes.” Mai pointed at the five-node network. “We change ownership.” Ace’s expression sharpened. That was different. “Meaning?” “The person who appears to own a problem does not necessarily solve it.” Reyes straightened slightly. Kiro looked up. Shammy nodded once. Mai continued: “If he creates an opening for Ace, Ace may refuse it.” Ace made a face. “Painful.” “If he pressures Kiro, Reyes may answer.” Reyes nodded. “If he expects Shammy to control open space, she may hold.” Shammy: “Yes.” “If he expects me to disrupt a system, Kiro may instead call its recovery and I do nothing.” Kiro smiled faintly. “Now that one I like.” Ace looked between them. “So everybody gets to steal everybody else’s homework.” Reyes said: “You never did yours.” Ace stared. Mai continued before it could become worse. “The point is not surprise for its own sake.” Kiro brought up the killer’s branching combat model. “His model is efficient because function and person are tied together.” Ace. Blade pressure. Mai. Disruption. Shammy. Electrical control. Kiro added: “If function moves between people, his prediction tree gets wider.” Reyes looked at the screen. “And if it gets wider?” “He has to observe longer.” Shammy said: “And decide later.” Kiro nodded. Ace smiled. “Patient bastard finally gets punished for patience.” Mai looked at her. “No.” Ace sighed. “What now?” “He is good at waiting.” “I know.” “So forcing more observation does not automatically hurt him.” Ace leaned back. “Can I have one optimistic sentence today?” Reyes answered: “No.” Ace pointed at her. “This relationship is abusive.” Reyes raised an eyebrow. “Relationship?” Ace paused. Kiro looked up. Shammy looked over. Mai became extremely interested in the tactical display. Ace recovered instantly. “Operationally.” Reyes smiled. “Coward.” Ace’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, fuck you.” “Later.” Silence. Kiro slowly turned toward Reyes. Shammy blinked. Mai closed her eyes. Ace’s mouth opened. Nothing came out. Reyes realized what she had said. A beat. Then: “Operationally.” Ace slapped both hands onto the table. “NO. Absolutely fucking not. You do not get to steal my recovery line.” Kiro bent over laughing. Shammy looked between them. “Was that flirting?” “Yes,” Ace said. “No,” Reyes said. Shammy nodded. “Yes.” Mai waited for the noise to collapse. It took longer than necessary. Then she said: “This is exactly why the model works.” Everyone looked at her. Ace stared. “You’re using my sex life as tactical theory now?” “No.” “You hesitated.” “I did not.” Kiro wiped at one eye. “She didn’t.” Ace looked betrayed. Mai pointed at the network. “Relationships alter decisions.” That stopped the room. Not completely. But enough. Reyes looked at Ace. Then away. Kiro looked back at the screen. Shammy smiled faintly. Mai continued: “He has built functions.” She pointed to Ace. “But Ace does not move only because of geometry.” Then Reyes. “Reyes does not intervene only because of target value.” Kiro. “Kiro does not create timing in isolation.” Shammy. “Shammy changes pressure based on what everyone else is doing.” Then herself. “And I do not hold or fire only because a system is available.” Ace looked at the diagram. “Because we’re people.” “Yes.” Kiro nodded. “And because we know each other.” “Yes.” Reyes folded her arms. “So the mistake isn’t three instead of five.” Shammy looked at her. “No.” Reyes continued: “It’s thinking five people means five functions.” Mai nodded. “Exactly.” Ace smiled. “That’s better.” Kiro changed the label. **FUNCTIONAL MODEL FAILURE** Then underneath: **RELATIONAL DECISION DEPENDENCE** Ace read it. “Absolutely no one is getting laid after writing that.” Kiro looked at her. “You say that like you have authority.” Ace grinned. “See? Progress.” Mai tapped the table. “Focus.” Ace looked innocent. “I am.” “No.” “Emotionally.” “No.” Reyes said: “Hopeless.” Shammy: “Consistent.” Ace looked at all of them. “You’re fucking welcome.” The second rule was harder. No rescue reflex. Reyes disliked that one immediately. “No.” Mai looked at her. “We need to define it.” “I already hate the definition.” Ace glanced toward her. Mai continued: “If one of us appears compromised, the nearest person does not automatically break position.” Reyes’s expression hardened. Ace noticed. So did Mai. Kiro stopped touching the controls. Shammy went quiet. Reyes said: “You’re assuming he’ll bait attachment.” Mai nodded. “Yes.” Ace looked at the killer’s model. “He probably will.” Reyes looked at her. Ace shrugged. “He’s watched us.” “Badly.” “Still watched.” Mai said: “He does not understand the relationships deeply.” Kiro added: “But he knows proximity.” Reyes’s eyes moved toward the workshop photograph. **RECURRENT** **PROXIMITY** Her jaw tightened. Ace saw it. “Hey.” Reyes looked at her. Ace’s voice softened. “Rule isn’t don’t help.” Mai nodded. “It is do not become automatic.” Reyes looked at Mai. Mai continued: “If Ace is hit, we do not assume Reyes moves first.” Ace’s mouth twitched. Reyes said nothing. “If Kiro is pressured, we do not assume Mai shifts.” Kiro glanced toward Mai. Mai ignored it. “If Shammy is isolated, we do not all collapse inward.” Shammy nodded. “We choose.” “Yes.” Ace looked at Reyes. “That I can live with.” Reyes kept her gaze on the model. “Choose.” Mai said: “Every time.” Reyes nodded once. “Fine.” Ace smiled faintly. “Hot.” Reyes looked at her. “Don’t.” “There she is.” The third rule belonged to Kiro. She stood and drew a line through the center of the model. “No fixed calls.” Ace looked at her. “Explain.” “If I say ‘two seconds’ every time I see a recovery dip, he learns that two seconds means we commit.” Mai nodded immediately. “So timing information cannot become choreography.” “Exactly.” Reyes said: “Then what do you call?” Kiro thought. “State.” Ace frowned. “Sexy.” “No.” “Trying.” Kiro ignored her. “Hot.” Mai looked at her. Kiro pointed toward the theoretical power graph. “Means thermal load rising.” Another. “Thin.” “Power availability constrained.” Another. “Open.” “Short window where multiple systems are recovering or repositioning.” Reyes nodded. “Simple.” “Yes.” Mai asked: “Direction?” Kiro added: “Left-heavy. right-heavy. center-loaded.” Shammy looked at the terms. “You are describing weather.” Kiro paused. Then smiled. “Fuck.” Ace saw it. “Oh, she likes that.” Kiro ignored her. Shammy continued: “Not commands.” “No.” “Conditions.” “Yes.” Mai nodded. “Better.” Kiro’s face changed slightly. It fit her. Not hacking. Not controlling. Reading. A field. Signals. Pressure. Timing. She added one more. “Broken.” Ace looked. “What does that mean?” “I don’t know yet.” Reyes stared. “Excellent.” Kiro looked at the model. “It means something in his expected rhythm is wrong.” Mai nodded slowly. “Useful.” Ace smiled. “Technical fuck?” Kiro looked over. “Very.” Ace pointed. “Continuity.” Shammy nodded. “Yes.” The fourth rule belonged to Shammy. She did not write it. She just said: “Do not fill silence.” Everyone looked at her. Ace frowned. “What silence?” “The one he creates.” Mai’s expression changed. Shammy looked at the combat model. “If he stops.” She paused. “We stop deciding that stopping means weakness.” Reyes nodded slowly. “He waited before.” “Yes.” Kiro looked at the old behavioral profile. “Preserves future options.” Shammy nodded. “If he disengages, we do not chase because the room feels unfinished.” Ace sighed. Everyone looked at her. “What?” Mai raised an eyebrow. Ace pointed. “I know why you’re all looking at me.” Reyes smiled. “Do you?” “Yes.” Shammy said: “You dislike unfinished things.” Ace stared. “That sounds filthy.” Shammy thought. “It was not intended that way.” Kiro whispered: “Pressure valve.” Ace covered her face. Mai continued: “If he creates distance, we evaluate.” Ace dropped her hands. “Yes.” “Not pursue automatically.” “Yes.” “Even if it feels like he is getting away.” Ace’s jaw tightened. “Yes.” Shammy looked at her. “He may want the chase.” Ace exhaled. “I fucking know.” Reyes looked at her. Ace turned. “What?” “Nothing.” Ace narrowed her eyes. “You’re doing that too often.” Reyes shrugged. The fifth rule took the longest. Because it was not tactical. It was evidence. Kiro brought the compact drone out of her bag and set it on the table. Ace looked at it. Then at Kiro. Then back at the drone. “What is that?” Kiro stared. Ace smiled. “I know what a drone is.” “Progress.” “What kind?” “Compact video relay.” Reyes leaned closer. “Combat?” “No.” “Good.” Ace looked disappointed. Kiro pointed at her. “No weapons.” “Coward.” “Evidence.” Mai stepped closer. “Live?” “Yes.” “To whom?” Kiro looked at her. “Rogue.” Silence. Ace’s expression changed. “Direct?” “Yes.” Mai nodded slowly. “And local recording.” Kiro tapped the side of the unit. “Separate buffer. If uplink dies, recording doesn’t.” Reyes looked at the drone. “Can he interfere?” “Probably.” Ace smiled. “Kiro vocabulary.” Kiro ignored her. “I’m expecting packet loss, jamming, dirty spectrum, maybe deliberate false traffic.” Mai asked: “Can you maintain feed and still read his systems?” Kiro did not answer immediately. That mattered. Finally: “Yes.” Mai waited. Kiro corrected: “Probably.” Ace pointed. “There.” Kiro glared. Mai said: “Explain load.” Kiro opened the drone architecture. “Drone handles video capture and local buffer autonomously.” “Navigation?” “Simple follow profile. I don’t pilot it unless something goes wrong.” “Uplink?” “Directional burst relay when stable. adaptive pathing when not.” Mai nodded. “And you?” “I watch signal environment and his system behavior.” Reyes looked at her. “So the drone is not your job.” Kiro smiled faintly. “It is luggage with eyes.” Ace looked at the drone. “I like it now.” Kiro continued: “If feed goes bad, local record survives.” Mai nodded. “That is essential.” Ace looked toward her. “Because?” Mai’s face went cold. “Because Reyes could shoot him in the head afterward and Rogue could still claim the recording was constructed.” Reyes looked at Mai. A beat. Ace looked between them. Then: “Oddly specific.” Mai did not react. Reyes said: “Still practical.” Ace smiled. Kiro looked at the drone. “The point is real-time receipt.” Mai nodded. “Exactly.” Ace understood. “Oh.” Reyes did too. Not evidence delivered later. Not edited. Not filtered. Not some neat forensic packet after the blood dried. Rogue sees it happen. Kiro said: “If he deploys all three counterfeit systems in the same confrontation—” Mai finished: “Then the framing collapses before the fight is over.” Shammy looked at the drone. “And Wakako?” Mai looked at her. Silence. Ace smiled slowly. “Oh, fuck yes.” Kiro looked between them. “What?” Mai said: “Rogue should not receive it alone.” Kiro understood immediately. “Wakako.” “Yes.” Reyes nodded. “Both fixers.” “Yes.” Ace leaned back. “Put them in the same fucking room.” Mai’s eyes narrowed. “Afterlife.” That landed. Shammy looked at her. “Rogue will already be there.” “Yes.” Kiro thought. “And Wakako can go to her.” Mai nodded. Ace smiled. “Imagine that booth.” Reyes looked at her. “Focus.” “I am focused. I’m imagining two terrifying women silently judging our survival technique.” Kiro said: “Accurate.” Shammy: “Yes.” Mai ignored them and called Rogue. No ceremony. No preamble. Rogue answered. “What?” Mai said: “We have enough to build a confrontation plan.” A pause. “How much enough?” “Enough to move.” Another pause. Rogue’s voice hardened. “Talk.” Mai looked at Kiro. Kiro activated a secure direct route. “Workshop was genuine development history but deliberately abandoned.” Rogue said nothing. Mai continued: “The killer built and tested all three counterfeit signatures in one location.” “Proof?” “Strong physical evidence. Not identity.” “Keep going.” “He also built a combat model of Ace, Shammy, and me.” That got silence. Rogue finally said: “How good?” Mai looked at Ace. Ace smiled without humor. Mai answered: “Good enough to be dangerous.” Rogue exhaled. “And?” “He under-modeled Reyes and Kiro.” Rogue immediately said: “Don’t assume that saves you.” Ace pointed toward the comm. “I like her.” Mai said: “We do not.” “Good.” Kiro looked at Mai. Mai continued: “Kiro will stream the confrontation live.” Rogue went quiet. Then: “To me.” “To you and Wakako.” Longer silence. Ace smiled. Reyes watched Mai. Rogue said: “You want Wakako at Afterlife.” “Yes.” “And you want the feed unfiltered.” “Yes.” Another pause. Then: “Fine.” Ace blinked. Kiro looked surprised. Rogue continued: “But if your signal dies, I don’t call that proof.” Kiro leaned toward the comm. “It records locally.” “Good.” Mai said: “We expect interference.” “You should.” Rogue paused. Then: “I’ll get Wakako here.” Ace grinned. “Tell her dress code is hostile elegance.” Mai looked at her. Rogue said: “Was that Ace?” “No,” Mai said. “Yes,” Ace said. Rogue disconnected. Ace stared at the dead channel. “She loves me.” Reyes said: “No.” Shammy: “Possibly.” Ace looked at her. “Thank you.” Mai looked at Kiro. “Feed only to Rogue and Wakako.” Kiro nodded. “For now.” Mai caught the wording. “For now?” Kiro looked toward the Afterlife schematic. “If Rogue wants more witnesses, she controls that.” Ace frowned. “What do you mean?” Kiro shrugged. “Her room.” Reyes understood first. “She might put it on the screens.” Silence. Ace stared. Kiro nodded. “She might.” Mai’s expression went unreadable. Shammy looked at Ace. Ace slowly smiled. “No.” Reyes raised an eyebrow. “No?” Ace shook her head. “That would be fucking horrible.” Kiro smiled. “Yes.” “And perfect.” “Yes.” Mai said: “We do not plan around it.” Ace looked at her. “Obviously.” Shammy said: “Obiviously.” Ace made a sound of pure delight. Kiro bent over the table. Reyes covered her face. Mai stared at Shammy. Shammy looked calm. Ace pointed at her. “You did that on purpose.” Shammy thought. Then: “Possibly.” Ace had to walk away. The pressure dropped again. Just enough. Then the clock came back. **04:11:52** Nobody laughed. Four hours. The rules were on the wall. No predictable ownership. No automatic rescue reflex. State, not command. Do not fill silence. Evidence live. Five people. No fixed formation. No fixed hero. No fixed sequence. Mai looked at the network. “We still need him.” Kiro nodded. “Working on it.” Reyes checked her weapon. Ace looked at her. “You’re doing that more.” “Yes.” “Nervous?” “No.” Ace smiled. “Liar.” Reyes looked at her. “I’m checking the magazine.” “You check it when you’re thinking.” Reyes stared. Ace’s smile softened. “See?” The moment held. Small. Personal. Then Reyes looked away. “Fuck you.” Ace grinned. “Later.” Kiro groaned. Mai ignored them. Shammy looked at the combat model. “He expects us to hurry now.” Mai nodded. “Yes.” “He expects pressure to make us narrower.” “Yes.” Shammy looked at all five of them. “Then we should become wider.” Ace smiled. Kiro looked up. Reyes nodded. Mai’s gaze stayed on the network. Not five weapons. Five people. More important: Five people who changed what the others could do. Ace drew both katanas. Not dramatically. Just checking weight. Familiar. Real. Across the room, Kiro’s drone lifted a few centimeters from the table. Silent. Steady. Reyes watched Ace. Mai watched the model. Shammy watched everyone. Kiro looked at the clock. Then at the search running across her screens. “Got something.” Every head turned. Ace smiled. “Good something?” Kiro stared at the result. “No.” Ace’s smile widened. “Perfect.” --- # CHAPTER 14 — CONVERGENCE “Got something.” Every head turned. Ace smiled. “Good something?” Kiro stared at the result. “No.” Ace’s smile widened. “Perfect.” Mai was already moving toward the display. “What?” Kiro opened three windows. Then a fourth. Then a fifth. Ace looked at them. Saw maps. Power traces. Traffic metadata. Industrial registries. Something about thermal load. Something else about municipal maintenance. She looked at Reyes. “Nerd weather.” Reyes nodded. “Looks stormy.” Kiro pointed at both of them. “Shut up.” Shammy came closer. “What changed?” “Nothing.” Ace frowned. “You said something.” “I found overlap.” Mai leaned in. “Between?” Kiro enlarged the first map. “Intermittent high-current draw.” Second. “Illegal coolant disposal.” Third. “Precision actuator transport.” Fourth. “Short-range encrypted burst traffic.” Fifth. “Municipal camera outages.” Reyes looked at the five layers. “And?” Kiro overlaid them. Nothing dramatic happened. No glowing red circle. No giant arrow. No convenient answer. Just a piece of Night City turning slightly uglier. A half-abandoned industrial zone east of Arroyo. Several blocks. Old processing facilities. Warehouse shells. One decommissioned cargo exchange. Mai looked at the overlap. “Confidence?” “Low individually.” “And together?” Kiro exhaled. “Annoyingly higher.” Ace smiled. “Technical?” “Yes.” “Fuck?” “Yes.” “Good.” Kiro ignored her. Mai pointed to the power trace. “Explain.” “Not enough for sustained fabrication.” “Current operations?” “Maybe.” Ace opened her mouth. Kiro glared. Ace closed it. Kiro continued: “Short high-load spikes. Could be charging. Could be thermal cycling. Could be nothing.” Mai: “Coolant?” “Three unauthorized chemical disposal events in fourteen days.” Reyes frowned. “Near?” “Within two blocks.” “Same source?” “Unknown.” Mai looked at the actuator transport. “Recent?” “Six days.” “Destination?” “Warehouse account that technically does not exist anymore.” Ace smiled. “Night City’s favorite kind.” Kiro nodded. “And the account received another shipment eleven months ago.” Mai’s expression sharpened. “Same class?” “Similar.” Shammy looked at the map. “Long preparation.” “Yes.” Kiro opened the burst traffic. “Then there’s this.” Ace leaned closer. Reyes grabbed the back of Ace’s jacket. Ace turned. “What?” “Space.” “I have space.” “You’re in Kiro’s neck.” Ace looked. She was. She backed up half a step. “Fine.” Kiro continued: “Very short encrypted transmissions.” Mai: “To where?” “That’s the irritating part.” Kiro drew several vectors. “They don’t go anywhere stable.” Ace frowned. “What does that mean?” “Burst relays. temporary routing. disposable nodes. maybe directional.” Reyes said: “Someone avoiding a permanent network shape.” “Yes.” Mai looked at the timing. “When?” Kiro brought up the workshop visit. Three bursts. One before they entered. One while they were inside. One after they left. Silence. Ace stopped smiling. Reyes leaned forward. “That’s not low-confidence.” Kiro shook her head. “By itself it still is.” Mai understood. “Because we do not know content.” “Yes.” “Could be unrelated.” “Yes.” “Could be ordinary criminal comms.” “Yes.” Ace looked at Kiro. “But.” Kiro nodded. “But the directionality is ugly.” She overlaid the industrial zone. Two bursts intersected there. Not exact. Close. Too close. Shammy looked at the map. “The workshop spoke outward.” Kiro looked at her. “Maybe.” Shammy nodded. “Maybe.” Ace watched the overlap. “He’s there.” Mai immediately said: “We do not know that.” Ace looked at her. “I know.” Mai waited. Ace sighed. “Likely.” Kiro looked at her. “Actually, yes.” Ace pointed. “HA.” Mai ignored her. Reyes said: “What about cameras?” Kiro opened the last layer. “Three city cameras in that zone have experienced intermittent faults.” Ace frowned. “Sabotage?” “Could be shit maintenance.” Reyes nodded. “Very Night City.” “Exactly.” Kiro zoomed. “But the faults happen during the same overnight windows as some of the power spikes.” Mai went still. “Now that is useful.” Kiro nodded. “Still not proof.” Ace stared at Mai. Mai stared back. Ace smiled. “You’re rubbing off on her.” Kiro said: “She’s contagious.” Shammy looked at Mai. “Technically?” Ace made a choking sound. Reyes started laughing. Mai closed her eyes. Kiro looked toward Shammy. “Please never change.” Shammy smiled. Then the clock on the wall rolled. **03:47:09** Nobody laughed anymore. Mai looked at the industrial zone. “If he is there, why there?” Kiro opened old property records. “Cargo exchange was built for heavy equipment.” “Power?” “Independent industrial feed.” “Access?” “Multiple.” “Vertical space?” “Yes.” “Shielding?” “Some sections reinforced.” Reyes came closer. “Escape routes?” Kiro brought up service tunnels. Ace whistled. “That’s disgusting.” Reyes nodded. “Too many.” Mai looked at the map. “Or exactly enough.” Shammy watched her. “For him.” “Yes.” Ace traced one of the tunnel lines. “He can disengage.” Mai nodded. “And re-enter elsewhere.” Reyes said: “Preserves future options.” Kiro looked at her. “Exactly.” Ace leaned back. “So either this is him—” Mai: “Or someone who has accidentally assembled an extremely convincing imitation of his logistical preferences.” Ace stared. “Do you hear yourself?” “Yes.” “I love you.” Mai ignored her. Reyes looked at Ace. “Dangerous sentence.” Ace smiled. “Different relationship.” Shammy said: “Still accurate.” Mai looked at Shammy. Shammy smiled. Ace pointed. “Pressure valve.” Kiro checked the feed architecture. “Need Rogue.” Mai nodded. “Not yet.” Ace looked at her. “Why?” “Because if we tell her we have a likely location, we increase external movement.” Reyes understood. “People start reacting.” “Yes.” Kiro looked at the burst traffic map. “And he watches reaction.” Mai nodded. “No external mobilization.” Ace frowned. “Just us?” “Yes.” Reyes said: “Five.” “Yes.” Shammy looked at the clock. “And the drone.” Kiro reached for it. “Yes.” Ace watched the tiny unit lift off the table. It hovered. Turned. Followed Kiro. Ace smiled. “Still cute.” “It’s evidence.” “Cute evidence.” “No.” Reyes looked at the drone. “Does it have a name?” Kiro stared. “No.” Ace’s eyes lit. “No.” Kiro pointed at her. “No.” “Witness Bitch.” “No.” Reyes snorted. Shammy considered. “That is descriptive.” Kiro looked horrified. Mai walked toward the equipment rack. “We are not naming the drone.” Ace followed. “Too late.” Kiro muttered something obscene. The five-person model disappeared from the main screen. Replaced by the industrial zone. Routes. Potential entry points. Thermal blind spots. Signal dead zones. Mai looked at them. “Primary entry?” Reyes pointed to a maintenance corridor feeding the southern side. “Too obvious.” Ace smiled. “Now you sound like me.” Reyes looked at her. “Don’t ruin it.” Kiro pointed elsewhere. “East utility bridge.” Mai nodded. “Exposure?” “Moderate.” Shammy looked at the map. “Noise?” Kiro checked. “Constant background machinery from adjacent recycling.” Shammy nodded. “Better.” Reyes said: “Roof?” Kiro shook her head. “Too much open sky.” Ace frowned. “You think he has overhead sensors?” “I think he has everything until proven otherwise.” Ace smiled faintly. “Healthy.” Mai pointed at the utility bridge. “Approach there.” Reyes nodded. Kiro asked: “Vehicle?” Mai shook her head. “Not close.” Ace looked at the map. “Walk the last section.” “Yes.” Shammy watched the routes. “He will know.” Mai looked toward her. “Possibly.” Shammy shook her head. “No.” The room went quiet. Shammy looked at the industrial zone. “If this is him…” She paused. “…he will know someone is coming.” Ace frowned. “Because we found the workshop.” “Yes.” Mai nodded slowly. “He may not know exactly when.” Shammy looked at the countdown. “But he knows we have a deadline.” Reyes swore softly. Kiro stared at the map. “So he can predict the window.” “Yes.” Ace looked at Mai. “Then stealth is bullshit.” Mai answered: “Perfect stealth, yes.” Ace smiled. “Thank fuck.” Mai continued: “Operational ambiguity is not.” Ace’s smile died. “Of course.” Kiro nodded. “He may know somebody is coming. He still may not know route, exact timing, composition.” Reyes looked at the five-node plan. “Or whether it’s five.” Mai nodded. “That remains our best advantage.” Ace checked both katanas. Shammy watched. “You are doing that more.” Ace looked at her. “What?” “Checking them.” Ace paused. Then smiled. “Stress response.” Shammy nodded. “Consistent.” Reyes looked at Ace. Ace saw it. “Don’t.” “I didn’t say anything.” “You were going to.” “I was.” “What?” Reyes checked her own pistol. “That I’m doing it too.” Ace looked. Then smiled. “See?” Reyes sighed. “Shut up.” Kiro packed the drone relay. Mai looked at everyone. “No improvisational heroics.” Ace opened her mouth. “No.” Ace closed it. Mai looked at Reyes. “No revenge decisions.” Reyes’s expression shifted. Barely. Then: “Fine.” Ace glanced toward her. Reyes did not look back. Mai turned to Kiro. “No direct contest with his systems.” “I read. I call.” “Yes.” Then Shammy. “No filling silence.” Shammy nodded. “Yes.” Mai looked at Ace last. Ace spread both hands. “Why do I feel singled out?” “Because you are.” “Rude.” Mai held her gaze. Ace’s expression settled. “No chase.” “Yes.” “No taking a bait because it insults me personally.” “Yes.” “No solving geometry with my face.” Reyes smiled. Mai said: “Correct.” Ace nodded. “Fine.” Then: “If he calls me short, all rules are suspended.” Reyes laughed. Kiro groaned. Shammy said: “That would be tactically effective.” Ace stared at her. “Et tu again.” Shammy frowned. “That is still not my name.” Mai walked out. Ace followed. “Someday I’m teaching you Latin.” Shammy said: “I know Latin.” Ace stopped. Everyone else kept walking. Ace stared after her. “What?” Shammy looked back. “I know Latin.” Ace pointed. “You’ve been letting me do that?” “Yes.” Reyes nearly walked into the wall laughing. Even Kiro lost composure. Mai stopped at the door. Turned. Looked at Shammy. Then at Ace. Then decided not to ask. Ace looked betrayed at a spiritual level. “You absolute bitch.” Shammy smiled. “Yes.” Ace put a hand over her heart. “I have never been more proud.” Then they left. --- The last kilometer was on foot. No conversation. No jokes. Not because the pressure had won. Because now silence belonged to them. The industrial district rose around them in layers. Broken conveyors. Old concrete. Steel frames. Half-lit service roads. The distant orange glare of waste processing. Kiro’s drone stayed close and low. No active broadcast yet. Local recording only. Reyes moved slightly left of Ace. Not attached. Not distant. Shammy held center. Mai behind enough to see all four. Kiro slightly rearward. Five people. No formation that stayed still longer than necessary. The utility bridge came into view. Rust. Pipework. Cable trays. A maintenance path barely wide enough for two. Kiro stopped. Raised one hand. Everyone froze. Ace looked toward her. Kiro stared at her portable readout. “Traffic.” Mai spoke quietly. “External?” “Maybe.” Ace’s eyes narrowed. Kiro corrected: “Likely.” Mai nodded. “Source?” Kiro turned slightly. “Forward.” Reyes looked across the bridge. Nothing. Shammy’s gaze shifted. “He knows.” Ace looked at her. Shammy did not elaborate. Kiro watched the spectrum. One burst. Gone. Another. Different frequency. Gone. Then nothing. Ace whispered: “Bait?” Kiro shook her head. “Could be handshake traffic.” Mai: “Between systems?” “Yes.” Reyes looked at the cargo exchange ahead. “Wake-up?” Kiro stared. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” Mai said: “Drone.” Kiro activated the relay. The small unit rose. Barely. Its indicator changed. “Local recording active.” A beat. “Encrypted live path building.” Another. “Rogue?” Kiro listened. Then: “Connected.” Mai said: “Wakako?” “Rogue says present.” Ace smiled faintly. “Terrifying booth achieved.” No one answered. Kiro looked at the drone. “Feed stable.” Mai nodded. “From now on, assume witnessed.” Reyes checked her pistol. Ace looked toward her. Reyes noticed. “What?” “Nothing.” Reyes almost smiled. “Growth.” Ace grinned. Then the lights across the utility bridge turned on. One by one. Not all. Just enough. A path. Shammy whispered: “He is inviting us.” Mai looked at the lights. Ace said: “Fuck him.” Reyes nodded. “Yes.” Kiro stared at the spectrum. “Power spike.” Mai: “Hot?” “Not yet.” Another system came alive. Then another. Different signature. Ace felt it before she understood it. Not Shadow. Not magic. Recognition. The thing they had reconstructed on screens. Power routing. High-current activation. Multiple subsystems. One body. Somewhere ahead. Kiro’s face went still. “Three signatures.” Everyone looked at her. Kiro swallowed. “Same source.” Mai asked: “Confidence?” Kiro stared at the live read. “High.” Ace drew both katanas. The sound of metal was quiet. Real. Reyes moved half a step. Not toward Ace. Into a better lane. Shammy’s posture changed. Mai raised the disruptor. Kiro’s drone floated above and behind them. The lights across the bridge remained on. Invitation. Trap. Proof. All at once. Kiro touched the relay. “Rogue has feed.” Mai nodded. “Move.” They crossed. Halfway over, the first blade deployed in the dark ahead. Not Ace’s. Longer. Heavier. Mechanical. A second followed. Then the figure stepped into the light. Large. Broad. Chrome buried into a body built to carry too much power. No rage. No twitching. No theatrical breathing. He simply stood there. Waiting. Ace stopped. For one impossible second, years collapsed. The old encounter. The patience. The pressure. The refusal to hurry. The man looked at Ace. Then Mai. Then Shammy. His gaze passed over Reyes. Over Kiro. Not dismissive. Evaluating. Updating. Ace smiled. Small. Cold. “Hi.” The man said nothing. Kiro watched her readout. “Hot.” Mai held. The man’s eyes shifted toward her. Ace noticed. He had heard the call. Learned one word. Already. Shammy said quietly: “Do not fill it.” Silence settled. Not his. Theirs. The man waited. So did they. For the first time, his stillness did not make anyone else hurry. Then Kiro whispered: “Open.” And all five moved. --- # CHAPTER 15 — COUNTERFEIT Kiro whispered: “Open.” And all five moved. The first mistake would have been to think the blades came first. They did not. The blades were simply what the eye noticed. The real attack began with power. Kiro saw the spike. “Center-loaded.” Mai shifted before the discharge came. A white-blue arc tore across the bridge where she had been standing. Not Shammy’s lightning. Too direct. Too hard. Too deliberate. It struck the railing and exploded into branching scars across steel. Ace heard metal scream. Shammy watched the pattern. “Made.” The man moved. Fast. Far too fast for his size. Both blades came out together. Not swung. Deployed into movement. Ace met the first. The impact ran through her arms. Heavy. Wrong balance. Mechanical reinforcement behind it. She let the force slide instead of contesting it. Second blade came immediately. Reyes fired. Not at the man. At the angle. The shot forced his shoulder fractionally inward. Ace disappeared through the gap. Not where he expected. His blade cut empty air. Kiro said: “Hot.” Shammy held. The man’s head turned toward her. Expected discharge. Expected escalation. Shammy did nothing. For half a second, his model waited for lightning. That half second belonged to Mai. Her disruptor fired. The hit caught his left-side systems. Not shutdown. Not even close. His body jerked once. Power routing changed instantly. Kiro saw it. “Left thin.” Ace was already there. One katana flashed low. The man moved his leg before the cut completed. Too early. Ace felt the realization hit colder than fear. He knew that attack. Not exactly. But enough. His right blade rotated down. Ace aborted. Reyes fired again. This time at him. The round struck reinforced torso plating. He barely moved. Reyes swore. Ace landed beside her. “He’s reading me.” Reyes looked at the man. “Then stop being you.” Ace grinned. “Romantic.” The man attacked Reyes. Not Ace. That changed everything. He had updated. Fast. One step. Blade extended. Reyes moved backward. Not enough. Ace started to intercept. Mai said: “Hold.” Ace stopped. Every instinct screamed otherwise. Reyes saw the blade. Saw the shoulder. Saw the hip. Saw the weight shift. Not swordsmanship. Body. That she understood. She stepped inside the expected retreat. The blade passed behind her. Reyes drove the muzzle of her pistol into the seam beneath his arm and fired twice. The man turned. Too late. Ace came from the other side. One katana struck the opposite shoulder joint. Not deep. Enough. The man disengaged instantly. No anger. No retaliation. Three steps back. Reset. Silence. Ace did not chase. His head tilted slightly. Kiro watched the spectrum. “He expected pursuit.” Ace smiled. “Fuck him.” Shammy said: “Yes.” The man’s attention moved to her. Ace whispered: “You’re getting predictable.” Shammy looked at her. “Obiviously.” Ace almost laughed. Then the floor died. Not lights. Systems. Every active panel along the bridge snapped out at once. Emergency controls. Rail sensors. Maintenance indicators. The disruptor-like pulse spread outward. Kiro felt her equipment stutter. “Dirty.” Mai’s head turned. “He’s forcing the environment.” The drone dipped. Kiro caught the relay before it failed. “Feed unstable.” Mai: “Local?” “Recording.” Another pulse. The drone shivered. Kiro swore. “Rogue still has us.” Ace heard that. Good. Evidence was alive. The man raised one arm. Kiro saw power build. “Right-heavy.” Mai moved. Wrong. The lightning did not go toward her. It went into the bridge. A brutal discharge hit the maintenance structure beneath them. Steel flashed. The entire walkway jumped. Ace lost half a step. That was enough. The man was already moving. Twin blades. One high. One low. Not trying to hit Ace. Trying to narrow her. Mai saw it. “Funnel!” Ace saw the exit. Exactly one useful line. Exactly what he wanted. She refused it. Jumped onto the railing instead. The low blade passed beneath her. The high blade changed angle. Prepared for that too. Fuck. Ace kicked off the rail. Not away. Toward him. His head shifted. That one was less expected. She crossed both blades against his right arm and used his own momentum to turn herself around him. Not enough leverage to move him. Enough to move herself. Reyes fired past Ace’s shoulder. The man ducked. Shammy moved for the first time. Not lightning. She stepped into the space he had just abandoned. Pressure changed. Ace felt it. Mai felt it. Reyes did too. Nobody could have explained it in time. They simply adjusted. The man turned toward Shammy. Expected electrical attack. Shammy looked at him. Still did nothing. Kiro saw his power distribution change. “Thin.” Mai fired. The disruptor hit his back. A visible tremor ran through the chrome. He pivoted. Ace attacked. He caught her. Both blades met. One against one. Second against second. For one terrible instant they were locked. The man looked directly at her. Close enough that Ace could see the modifications around his eyes. No rage. Recognition. Calculation. Then he changed pressure. Not stronger. Laterally. Ace’s feet shifted. Exactly where one of the workshop diagrams had predicted. Her stomach dropped. “He’s got the reset!” Reyes moved. The man released one blade. Turned. The free arm came toward Reyes. Kiro shouted: “Hot!” Reyes dropped. Lightning tore over her. Too close. Her hair lifted in the field. The discharge struck the far wall. Branching black scars. Perfect headline. Shammy looked at them. Angry now. Not loud. Worse. “That is ugly.” Ace twisted free. “Finally, something we agree on.” The man stepped away. Again. Not finishing. Not chasing. Resetting. Learning. Kiro stared at the telemetry. “His recovery changed.” Mai looked at her. “How?” “Shorter.” “Because?” “Unknown.” Ace breathed hard. “Technical fuck?” “Yes.” The man moved again. This time toward Kiro. Everyone saw it. Everyone knew why. He had learned enough. Signal support. Peripheral. Weakest physical node. Category. Kiro saw him coming. “Fuck.” Ace moved. Reyes moved. Mai moved. Too many. Kiro shouted: “No!” They stopped. The man had expected convergence. His lightning emitter was already charged. Kiro saw it. “Spread!” They did. The discharge hit empty center. He had baited the rescue reflex. Mai’s face went cold. “He is testing us.” Reyes looked at Kiro. “You good?” “Busy.” The man closed the distance anyway. Kiro backed toward a support column. No chance of outrunning him. No intention of trying. She watched her screen. His right-side power climbed. Blade actuator active. Left-side thermal rising. Disruptor system recovering. Lightning not ready. Maybe. She trusted maybe. “Broken.” Ace heard it. So did everyone else. The man did not know the word yet. Reyes moved first. Not toward Kiro. Across the man’s rear line. He turned to track her. Mai fired at the floor beside him. Not his body. The disruptor pulse killed the local maintenance panel. Emergency barriers dropped halfway from the ceiling. The man shifted. Shammy finally discharged. Not at him. Into the metal structure above. Real lightning. Different. Alive in the space. It crawled where it wanted. Not where a machine had painted it. The man’s sensors reacted. For the first time, Kiro saw his systems hesitate. Not fail. Compensate. Too many environmental variables. Ace came through the hanging barrier. Small. Fast. Wrong lane. Both katanas struck the same arm. The first cut armor. The second reached actuator housing. The man jerked away. One blade retracted halfway. Stuck. Ace landed. Smiled. “That one’s mine.” The man looked at the damaged arm. Then at Ace. No anger. He changed. Immediately. Weight redistributed. Single-blade stance. Lightning system increased priority. Disruptor cycling faster. Kiro stared. “Fuck me.” Reyes glanced over. “Later.” Kiro looked at her. Ace barked a laugh. Even Mai’s mouth twitched. The man attacked during it. Of course he did. Single blade now. Different rhythm. Less imitation. More himself. That was worse. He had stopped trying to look like Ace. Ace understood instantly. “He dropped the cosplay.” Mai said: “Yes.” Shammy watched him. “He is learning.” Reyes fired. He moved before the shot. Not because he predicted Reyes. Because he had learned the sound of her commitment. Kiro saw the shift. “Left-heavy.” Mai held. Ace did not attack. Shammy moved right. The man waited. Nothing happened. For the first time, his model received no answer. Then Reyes kicked a loose maintenance cart down the bridge. It slammed into his leg. Not damaging. Ridiculous. Effective. His attention flicked down. Ace was already behind him. One katana struck the damaged actuator housing. The stuck blade tore loose from its track and fell. Metal hit concrete. Silence for half a heartbeat. Ace looked down. Then at him. “One.” The man drove an elbow backward. Ace barely slipped it. Reyes fired twice into the exposed housing. The arm spasmed. Kiro shouted: “Hot!” The warning was too broad. Everything spiked. Mai saw it. “Down!” All five dropped. The man discharged lightning and disruptor together. The bridge became white. Not bright. White. Every metal edge lit. The air punched. Kiro’s drone spun wildly. Her relay vanished. “No feed!” Mai looked toward her. “Local?” “Yes!” Good enough. For now. Ace heard Shammy make a sound. Not pain. Recognition. The counterfeit lightning had gone wrong. Not weak. Wrong. The discharge crawled through the structure, forced into branching paths by raw power. Too much. The man’s own body took part of it. Kiro saw thermal alarms everywhere. “Red!” Mai looked. “Meaning?” “I made that one up!” Ace laughed despite herself. “Useful!” Kiro stared at the readout. “He’s cooking.” Reyes looked at the man. “He care?” “No.” That was the answer. He did not. Heat poured from vents along his torso. Synthetic skin around one implant seam darkened. He moved anyway. No hesitation. No pain response that mattered. Shammy stood. Slowly. The man looked at her. She looked at the black scars his discharge had left. Then at him. “You do not know what lightning is.” Ace whispered: “Oh, fuck.” The man raised his emitter. Shammy did not. He fired first. Shammy moved. Not away. Sideways. The discharge followed the path he had forced. Shammy’s did not. Her response came a heartbeat later. It hit steel far to his left. Jumped. Changed. Reached toward grounded structure. The entire electrical field warped. The man’s sensors tried to follow both realities. Counterfeit expectation. Actual environment. Kiro saw his targeting layer bloom with corrections. “Broken.” This time she knew what it meant. His rhythm was wrong. Ace moved. Reyes moved. Mai held. Shammy held. Kiro called: “Open.” Ace did not attack. The man expected her to. His blade came across early. Empty. Reyes stepped through instead. Close. Too close for a swordsman to like. She fired into the torso seam. Once. Twice. The man turned on her. Mai fired. Disruptor. Hard. The impact stopped his rotation for one fraction. Shammy shifted pressure. Ace entered. Both katanas. One high. One low. Not her usual sequence. Because Reyes was there. Because Mai had held him. Because Shammy had changed the field. Because Kiro had called the moment. The man blocked one. The second cut across the remaining blade actuator. Metal screamed. The blade stayed deployed. But its movement lagged. Kiro saw it. “Right thin.” Reyes moved left. Ace moved right. Mai did nothing. Shammy did nothing. The man chose Ace. Of course he did. Deepest model. Most data. Years. He attacked. Ace met him. And for several seconds, his model worked. Too well. He gave ground exactly when she expected resistance. Ace adjusted. He had that branch. He rotated his shoulder before her second strike. Had that too. She changed level. He compressed stance. Workshop. Less wrong. Too close. Ace broke away. He followed once. Only once. Then stopped. Ace stopped too. They stared at each other. No one hurried. Kiro watched. “He’s cooler.” Mai frowned. “That quickly?” “Not cool. Cooler.” Reyes looked at his torso vents. “He’s using the pause.” Kiro nodded. “Thermal redistribution.” Shammy said: “He makes silence useful.” Ace looked at him. “So do we.” The man’s gaze shifted. Reyes. Kiro. Mai. Shammy. Ace. Different now. No longer three primary targets and two variables. Five. He understood that. Not the relationships. Not yet. But the number. The problem. Kiro saw new traffic inside his systems. “Updating.” Mai looked at her. “How fast?” “Too fucking fast.” Reyes checked her magazine. Ace noticed. Again. The man noticed too. His gaze flicked to Reyes’s weapon. Then back to Ace. Ace saw that. He was collecting everything. The banter. The calls. The rescue restraint. Who moved when. Who did not. He had years of bad history. Now he had minutes of good data. And he was learning. Mai said quietly: “Advantage is decaying.” Kiro nodded. “Yes.” The man stepped backward. Once. Then again. Toward the dark beyond the bridge. Ace felt the pull immediately. Escape. Disengage. Preserve future options. Every part of her wanted to close the distance. Shammy said: “Do not fill it.” Ace stopped. Reyes stopped. Mai held. Kiro watched. The man took another step. Nothing. For the first time, he seemed uncertain. Not afraid. Not confused. Recalculating. Ace smiled. “No chase.” Mai nodded. “No chase.” The man looked at them. Then turned. Not fleeing. Moving deliberately toward the deeper facility. Kiro stared at the map. “There are three routes from there.” Reyes looked at her. “Which one?” “Don’t know.” Ace sheathed one katana. Everyone looked at her. “What?” Mai said: “Why?” Ace smiled. “Because he expects two.” Reyes’s expression changed. Kiro looked at the killer’s retreat path. Then at Ace. “Oh.” Shammy understood. Mai did too. The man disappeared into the dark. Ace rolled one shoulder. One blade still in hand. The other away. Different silhouette. Different movement. Different story. She looked at all four of them. “He wants to update?” Reyes smiled. Kiro checked the drone. Local recording still running. Mai raised the disruptor. Shammy watched the darkness. Ace’s grin widened. “Let’s make his data fucking expensive.” --- # CHAPTER 16 — BAD DATA The dark swallowed him. Ace did not follow. That was the first insult. The second came from somewhere ahead. “You learned restraint.” His voice was calm. Male. Low. Not distorted enough to hide the person underneath. Ace stopped. Reyes looked toward the corridor. Kiro’s eyes went to the spectrum. Mai did not move. Shammy listened. Ace smiled. “Oh, good.” The voice came again. “I expected profanity.” Ace called into the dark: “You waited too fucking long.” A beat. Then: “Better.” Reyes glanced at her. Ace shrugged. “He started it.” Kiro checked the drone. “Relay trying to rebuild.” Mai said: “Do not prioritize it.” “I’m not.” The corridor opened into the old cargo exchange. Wide interior. Multiple levels. Catwalks. Loading platforms. Dead cranes. Concrete pillars. Too many sight lines. Too many places to disappear. The man’s voice moved with the acoustics. “You changed formation.” Ace looked around. “No shit.” “You also reduced predictable rescue behavior.” Reyes’s face hardened. Ace saw it. So did he. “You.” His voice shifted direction. Reyes looked left. “Proximity became participation.” Reyes smiled without humor. “Observation became obsession.” Silence. Ace whispered: “Oh, nice.” Reyes did not look at her. The man answered: “Accurate.” That was worse. Not defensive. Not offended. Interested. Kiro murmured: “Traffic forward. upper level.” Mai raised her weapon slightly. The man spoke again. “Signal associate.” Kiro looked up. Ace’s smile widened. “Oh, he found your name tag.” Kiro said: “Fuck off.” The man continued: “You call weather because you cannot control it.” Kiro stared into the dark. Then: “And you built lightning because you don’t understand it.” Shammy looked at Kiro. Ace mouthed: _Fuck._ A quiet metallic sound came from above. Maybe movement. Maybe laughter without warmth. Then: “Better.” Kiro whispered: “I hate him.” Reyes said: “Get in line.” The drone indicator changed. Kiro looked down. “Feed.” Mai: “Stable?” “Ugly.” “Rogue?” “Yes.” “Wakako?” “Yes.” Kiro listened. Then frowned. Ace looked over. “What?” Kiro stared at the relay. “Rogue opened routing.” Mai’s eyes narrowed. “To?” Kiro looked toward her. “Afterlife internal display system.” Silence. Ace blinked. “Oh, she actually fucking did it.” Reyes looked at the drone. “The whole room?” “Looks like it.” Shammy said: “They are watching.” Mai said: “Then give them truth.” The man’s voice came from above. “An audience.” Ace looked up. “You wanted one.” “No.” His tone stayed almost conversational. “I wanted doubt.” Ace’s smile disappeared. There. Finally. Not confession. Not exactly. But close enough to shape motive. Mai answered: “You have it.” “Yes.” “And now you are losing it.” A pause. Then: “Possibly.” Kiro looked at Mai. Ace whispered: “Oh, fuck him for that.” Mai almost smiled. The man continued: “You still believe you are deciding the tempo.” Mai looked toward the upper platform. “No.” Silence. “I’m measuring yours.” Kiro saw it. “Hot.” Mai fired. The disruptor struck the railing above. The man moved half a second before impact. Not enough. The pulse clipped his torso. He dropped from the platform. Hard. Landed on both feet. One blade active. The damaged arm still lagging. Lightning system glowing along shoulder hardware. Ace grinned. “Hi again.” He looked at her. “You changed your silhouette.” Ace glanced at the sheathed katana. “You noticed.” “Yes.” “Cute.” “No.” Reyes snorted. Ace pointed at him. “See? No sense of humor.” His gaze moved to Reyes. “Her responses are more efficient.” Ace put a hand to her chest. “Ouch.” Reyes said: “He means compared to you.” “I know.” The man stepped forward. “Correct.” Ace looked at Reyes. “I’m going to kill him.” Mai said: “Not for criticism.” “Counterpoint—” The man attacked. No warning. Single blade sweeping low while the lightning emitter charged high. Kiro called: “Right-heavy.” Shammy moved left. Mai held. Ace did not take the obvious opening. Reyes did. She fired twice. The man rotated. One shot deflected from plating. The second hit a damaged actuator seam. He changed direction toward Reyes. Ace said: “Hey, chrome dick.” His head moved. Just enough. Reyes stepped out. Ace’s katana came in from the opposite side. He blocked. “Crude.” Ace smiled through the impact. “Still looking at me.” Mai fired. He twisted. The disruptor grazed him. Kiro laughed once. “Good.” The man disengaged. Ace did not pursue. He looked at her. “You use language to redirect attention.” Ace shrugged. “You use murder.” “Effective.” “Bit dramatic.” His eyes shifted to Shammy. “You disappoint me.” Shammy looked at him. “Good.” A pause. He tilted his head. Ace whispered: “I fucking love her.” The man looked at Shammy. “You could produce more force.” “Yes.” “You choose not to.” “Yes.” “Why?” Shammy looked at the others. Then back at him. “Because I am not alone.” Something changed in his face. Tiny. Not emotion. Calculation. Kiro saw his power routing shift. “He heard that.” Ace said: “Hope he took notes.” The man answered: “I did.” Reyes muttered: “Creepy bastard.” He looked at her. “You compensate toward Ace.” Reyes went still. Ace heard it. Mai heard it. Kiro’s eyes snapped toward Reyes. The man continued. “Your left shoulder enters first when she is threatened.” Reyes smiled. Cold. “You watch me a lot for somebody who labeled me proximity.” Ace looked at her. “Oh, that was hot.” Reyes ignored her. The man said: “I corrected the label.” Kiro whispered: “Updating.” Mai: “We knew.” The man stepped laterally. “Reyes.” First name. That was new. Reyes’s expression changed by less than a millimeter. He noticed. Of course he did. “Better.” Ace’s voice went flat. “Don’t.” His eyes returned to her. “Protective response.” Ace smiled. Wrong kind. “Try me.” Mai said: “Ace.” Ace exhaled. There. Choice. Not automatic. She stepped back half a pace. The man watched. “Improved.” Ace laughed. “You know, you’re a lot more annoying when you talk.” “Useful.” “Not what I said.” “It was what you meant.” Ace looked at Reyes. “He really does think he knows me.” Reyes said: “Embarrassing.” The man attacked again. This time with no blade opening. Disruptor first. A dirty pulse slammed into the cargo exchange controls. Doors moved. Not fully. Enough. Heavy loading barriers dropped from the ceiling. Kiro shouted: “Split!” They moved. Not apart by instinct. By choice. Ace and Shammy one side. Mai and Reyes the other. Kiro center rear. The man had expected Ace/Mai/Shammy geometry. He got something else. Lightning hit the floor between Ace and Shammy. Forced branch. Shammy stepped through the field after it passed. Not attacking. Watching. Ace went low. The man blocked. Expected. Ace stopped. He had already committed the counter. Nothing was there. Reyes shot him from across the divide. The round hit his side. He turned. Mai did not fire. Kiro called: “Thin.” Still nothing. The man hesitated. Tiny. Ace saw it. “So fucking needy.” He looked at her. “You are trying to make me commit.” “Is it working?” “No.” He attacked her immediately. Ace laughed. “Sure.” The blade came hard. She met it. He changed angle. She changed first. He had that. She reversed. He had that too. The man spoke between impacts. “You repeat under pressure.” Ace parried. “So do you.” “No.” “You keep talking.” His blade locked hers. “Because it changes you.” Ace smiled. “You wish.” He shifted pressure. Ace moved. Not where he wanted. Reyes fired past her. The man stepped away. “Her again.” Ace said: “Jealous?” “Yes.” That shut Ace up for half a second. Reyes barked a laugh. The man looked at her. “Useful.” Reyes raised her pistol. “Keep talking.” He did. “Kiro.” Kiro looked up. “You trust incomplete information.” “Yes.” “Dangerous.” “So is pretending complete information exists.” The man’s head tilted. “Good.” Kiro’s readout spiked. “Hot.” Shammy moved. The man fired lightning toward where she should have gone. Shammy did not. The discharge hit empty steel. Shammy looked at the scar. “You are still making it pose.” His gaze snapped toward her. Ace attacked. He blocked late. Her blade bit armor. Not deep. Enough to make him step. Ace smiled. “Good sentence.” Shammy said: “Thank you.” The man looked at Ace. “You respond to praise.” Ace grinned. “Only from women.” Reyes choked. Kiro made a strangled sound. Even Mai’s composure cracked. The man did not laugh. Ace pointed her blade. “See? That one was fucking funny.” His answer came instantly. “You use sexual provocation when threatened.” Ace spread her free hand. “I use sexual provocation when ordering breakfast.” Reyes said: “Confirmed.” Kiro: “Strong evidence.” Shammy: “Yes.” Mai: “Focus.” Ace looked delighted. The man’s eyes moved across all five. Something in his model changed again. The banter was not noise anymore. He knew that. Maybe he had always known. But now he saw the function. Pressure regulation. Attention shift. Mutual checking. A way of hearing who still sounded like themselves. He said: “You stabilize each other through vulgarity.” Silence. Ace slowly smiled. “Oh, sweetheart.” Reyes muttered: “He really has been taking notes.” Kiro said: “That one was annoyingly good.” Mai raised the disruptor. “Then give him bad data.” Ace moved first. Too obvious. Deliberately. The man took the bait. Blade toward Ace. Mai shifted. He expected disruptor. Nothing. Kiro called: “Left-heavy.” Shammy moved right. He turned toward her. Nothing. Reyes crossed behind him. He started to rotate. Ace stopped. Everything stopped. For one impossible fraction, the man had four predicted responses and none occurred. Kiro said: “Broken.” Reyes fired. Three rounds. Two struck torso plating. One hit beneath the shoulder. The man moved toward her. Mai fired. Hard. His right leg faltered. Ace entered. One katana. Not two. The man blocked. Shammy discharged behind him. Not into him. The field changed. His targeting system corrected. Kiro saw the load. “Hot. Hot. Center thin.” Mai: “Hold.” Ace kept him occupied. One blade against one. Fast. Close. He was stronger. She was smaller. Quicker. He had studied that. He had diagrams for that. He started speaking again. “You lose efficiency when emotionally occupied.” Ace blocked high. “Everybody does.” “Your variance is greater.” “Sounds sexy.” “Reyes increases it.” The blade came low. Ace avoided. Barely. He continued: “She makes you careless.” Reyes’s face went cold. Ace laughed. “No.” He attacked again. “You look toward her after impact.” Ace parried. “Because she’s hot.” Reyes said: “Jesus Christ.” The man’s blade changed direction. Ace saw it. Too late to counter cleanly. She gave ground. Exactly one step. Kiro called: “Thin.” Reyes moved. The man disengaged. Again. He had been testing. Not attacking. Ace felt it. “He’s mapping Reyes through me.” Mai said: “Yes.” Reyes raised her pistol. “Then stop helping.” Ace looked at her. Reyes held her gaze. No apology. No softness. Ace smiled. “Hot.” “Fuck you.” “Later.” The man said: “Predictable.” Both women turned toward him. Together. Reyes: “Shut the fuck up.” Ace: “Seriously.” Kiro laughed. The man almost smiled. Almost. Then the drone stuttered. Kiro looked up. “Jamming.” Mai: “Feed?” “Degrading.” Kiro moved toward a better angle. The man saw it. Of course. He attacked Kiro. Not physically. Signal. A burst flooded the local spectrum. Kiro’s screen became garbage. “Fuck.” The drone dipped. “Rogue losing video.” Mai: “Local?” “Still recording.” The man said: “Your witness is blind.” Kiro worked. “No.” “Signal collapse.” “Temporary.” “Optimistic.” Kiro looked up. “You built a jammer that screams every time you use it.” The man paused. Kiro smiled. “You’re loud.” Mai looked at her readout. Kiro already had it. The jammer itself was a beacon. Not location. Load. Timing. Power. “Center-loaded.” Mai fired. The man moved. Shammy fired first. Real lightning hit the structural rail beside him. He corrected away from it. Exactly where Mai’s disruptor was going. The hit caught him full. His body locked for a fraction. Reyes fired. Ace moved. He recovered. Too fast. But not untouched. Kiro’s drone stabilized. “Feed back.” Ace grinned. “Hi, Afterlife.” The man looked toward the drone. Reyes said: “Smile.” He attacked the drone. Ace intercepted. Blade against blade. Hard. The impact forced her sideways. He spoke close to her. “You value being seen.” Ace’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, you have no fucking idea.” She twisted. Used the lock. Kicked his knee. Not enough to damage. Enough to change stance. Reyes fired at that leg. The man moved. Mai said: “Open.” Ace dropped instead of retreating. Shammy’s discharge crossed above her. The man blocked electrically. Wrong decision. Kiro saw the surge. “Hot!” Mai fired. The disruptor hit his chest. Hard. He staggered. First real stagger. Ace rose into it. Both blades now. She had drawn the second without anyone seeing when. The man’s gaze changed. “Two.” Ace smiled. “Miss me?” He blocked one. The other struck the damaged arm. Metal tore. The remaining actuator screamed. His blade dropped six centimeters. Ace cut again. He rotated. Too fast. She stopped herself. No chase. Reyes crossed to the opposite side. He tracked her. Kiro called: “Right thin.” Mai held. Shammy held. The man looked from one to another. His voice remained calm. “You are improving.” Ace laughed. “Performance review?” “Yes.” “Do I get a raise?” “No.” “Then fuck your metrics.” He looked at Mai. “She controls less than you allow her to believe.” Mai answered: “You still think control is ownership.” A beat. “That is why you copied weapons.” The man went still. Not much. Enough. Shammy looked at him. Mai continued: “You saw results.” Her disruptor remained trained on him. “You copied consequences.” His eyes stayed on her. “You saw Ace move and built blades.” Ace smiled. “You fucked those up.” “You saw Shammy’s lightning and built an emitter.” Shammy said: “Ugly.” Kiro added: “Hot.” Reyes: “Loud.” Ace: “Compensating.” The man’s attention moved. Too many voices. Mai continued: “You saw my weapon kill systems and built something that forces systems to die visibly.” His face remained controlled. But he listened. Mai said: “You copied what happened.” A pause. “Not why.” The man answered: “Why is irrelevant if the result is reproducible.” Shammy said: “No.” He looked toward her. She smiled faintly. “That is why you are losing.” He moved. Fast. Not rage. Decision. Straight toward Shammy. Kiro saw power. “Left-heavy.” Ace started forward. Stopped. Reyes moved instead. The man adjusted. He had expected Ace. Reyes went low. Not attacking the weapon. Body. Hip. Weight. She slammed into his compromised leg from the angle his armor did not help. Not enough to drop him. Enough to tilt him. Shammy stepped away. Mai fired. He twisted. Disruptor missed center mass. Glanced shoulder. Kiro called: “Open.” Ace entered. He had the branch. Of course. His blade was already there. Ace changed. He changed with her. Reyes fired. He changed again. Shammy moved. He corrected. Mai held. Kiro called: “Broken.” The man stopped. Everyone stopped. Silence. His eyes moved. Ace. Mai. Shammy. Reyes. Kiro. Then he spoke. “You are not difficult.” Ace smiled. “No?” “You are expensive.” Kiro frowned. “What does that even mean?” Mai understood. “He needs more computation.” Reyes looked at him. “Poor baby.” The man looked at Kiro. “More observation.” Kiro shrugged. “Subscription fee.” Ace laughed. The man continued: “More energy.” Shammy looked at the vents along his torso. “You are paying.” That landed. The man’s temperature was rising again. Kiro saw it. “He’s running hotter.” Mai nodded. “Because he is adapting.” “Yes.” Ace looked at him. “So we’re literally cooking your ass.” The man said: “Temporarily.” Ace’s grin sharpened. “That’s what everybody says.” Reyes looked at her. “Everybody?” “Not now.” Kiro groaned. The man attacked Ace. Again. Deepest model. Most practiced target. But now it felt different. Less testing. More pressure. He had made a decision. Ace understood. He needed to break the network. Not defeat all five equally. Break one connection. Make someone automatic. Make someone rescue. Make someone hurry. He attacked Ace because everyone watched Ace. Because years of study told him that. Because minutes of better data had confirmed it. Ace met him. One strike. Two. Three. Fast. Hard. The man spoke between them. “You are the hinge.” Ace blocked. “No.” “Everyone turns when you move.” “Bad observation.” “Reyes does.” Reyes fired. The man had expected it. He rotated Ace into the line. Reyes did not shoot. Choice. The man’s blade came across. Ace ducked. He said: “Mai does.” Mai held. Choice. Lightning charged. Shammy did not answer. Choice. Kiro called: “Hot.” Nothing. Choice. The man stepped back. Ace did not follow. His eyes narrowed. For the first time. Not uncertainty. Frustration? Maybe. Ace smiled. “You keep trying to pull strings.” He said: “You keep pretending there are none.” Ace’s smile changed. “Of course there are.” That surprised him. Tiny. Ace continued: “That’s the fucking point.” Reyes moved behind him. He heard. Turned. Ace attacked. He blocked. Mai shifted. Kiro called: “Thin.” Shammy changed the field. The man corrected. Again. Again. Again. His systems screamed louder. Heat. Power. Actuators. Targeting. Five people refusing to stay in their boxes. The cargo exchange filled with motion. Not choreography. Conversation. Physical. Immediate. Constant. The man was still keeping up. Barely. And that made him terrifying. Ace saw an opening. Small. Real. Right shoulder late. Weight too far forward. Damaged arm not recovering cleanly. She had seen the same shape twice already. Kiro said: “Open.” Ace moved. That was the mistake. Not stupid. Not reckless. Not emotional. The timing was good. Almost perfect. The man had made it almost perfect. He had shown her the same recovery twice. The third was different. His damaged arm did not recover. He abandoned it. Dumped power. Shifted weight. Used the failure itself. Ace realized half a heartbeat too late. “Oh, fuck—” The strike did not cut her. The blade never touched skin. His forearm and shoulder hit her side like a moving wall. Low ribs. Flank. Torso twisted while her feet were still committed forward. Something inside her side pulled violently. Too far. Too fast. Pain arrived white. Ace left the floor. Hit concrete. Rolled once. Stopped. Reyes saw it. Everything in her face disappeared. Not fear. Not anger. Nothing. Mai fired. Immediate. No hesitation. The disruptor hit the man full through already overheated systems. His entire body seized. One leg collapsed. The remaining blade dropped. Lightning hardware flashed once. Died. He hit his knees. Then the floor. Alive. Disabled. Paralyzed enough that even the fingers of his active hand barely moved. Kiro stared at the readout. “Systems down—” Reyes was already walking. Ace drew breath behind her. It hurt. Badly. Shammy moved toward Ace. Mai looked from the psycho to Reyes. “Reyes—” Reyes kept walking. The man’s eyes tracked her. Nothing else could. His voice came weaker. Still calm. “Automatic response.” Reyes stopped in front of him. Looked down. Her pistol came up. The man watched her. Maybe expecting a question. Maybe expecting hesitation. Maybe collecting one last point. Reyes said: “You hit wrong person, asshole.” Then she emptied the magazine into him. Point-blank. No pause between shots. No warning. No one had time to stop her. The first rounds destroyed what remained of torso armor. The rest made sure there would be no recovery. No reboot. No second iteration. The pistol locked open. Silence. Reyes stood there for one second. Magazine empty. Threat dead. Only then did she turn. Only then did she go to Ace. Fast. Not running. Almost. Ace was on one elbow. Shammy already beside her. Mai crouched on the other side. Kiro looked once at the dead man. Then at her drone. The feed indicator was still live. Afterlife had seen everything. All of it. Counterfeit blades. Counterfeit disruptor. Counterfeit lightning. The actual Triad fighting them. Reyes’s walk. Her words. Every shot. Kiro swallowed. “Rogue still has feed.” Mai looked at her. “Good.” Ace sucked in a breath. Immediately regretted it. “Fuck.” Reyes dropped beside her. Hands already moving. Not touching the injured side yet. Reading. Position. Breathing. Guarding. How Ace was holding herself. “Don’t move.” Ace stared at her. “Bossy.” “Shut up.” Ace smiled despite the pain. “Definitely hot.” Reyes’s jaw tightened. There. Something. Finally. Not cold anymore. “Can you breathe?” “Yes.” “Deep?” Ace tried. Stopped halfway. “Fuck you.” Reyes nodded. “Good.” Mai looked at Ace’s side. “No penetration.” Shammy said: “No blood.” Ace looked at all three. “Thrilling.” Reyes put one hand behind Ace’s shoulder. The other at her hip. Not the injured side. “Do not twist.” “I gathered.” “Then stop doing it.” “I’m lying on the fucking floor.” “Badly.” Ace stared. Then laughed. One sharp breath. Immediate pain. “AH—fuck you!” Reyes’s face almost broke. Almost. “You’re an idiot.” Ace breathed shallowly. “You shot him like twelve fucking times.” “More.” Kiro said from behind them: “Definitely more.” Reyes looked back. Kiro raised both hands. “Evidence.” Ace looked at Reyes. “You didn’t even check if I was okay.” Silence. Reyes met her eyes. “No.” Ace understood. So did Mai. So did Shammy. Reyes looked toward the dead man. Then back at Ace. “He hit you.” Nothing else. No apology. No justification. Ace stared at her. Pain still white along her side. Breathing careful. Body unwilling to rotate. And somehow she smiled. Small. “Yeah.” Reyes looked down. “Don’t make that face.” “What face?” “That one.” Ace’s smile widened. “Can’t help it.” Reyes looked furious. Relieved. Terrified. All at once now. The cold was gone. Kiro approached. “The feed is still live.” Mai stood. “Cut combat audio. Keep visual record.” Kiro nodded. Before she did, Rogue’s voice came through. Only four words. “Evidence received. Get out.” Mai closed her eyes for half a second. That was enough. No speech. No absolution. No applause. Just fact. Evidence received. The deadline no longer mattered. Kiro killed the live uplink. The drone continued recording locally. Shammy looked toward the dead man. His counterfeit systems were silent. Finally. No lightning posing. No electronics forced into somebody else’s signature. No blades pretending to be Ace. Just broken hardware around a dead body. Ace followed Shammy’s gaze. Then looked at Reyes. “Hey.” Reyes looked down. Ace breathed carefully. “You know what’s really annoying?” Reyes stared. “What?” “He was right about one thing.” Mai said: “Do not encourage this.” Ace ignored her. Reyes frowned. “What?” Ace smiled. “You do compensate toward me.” Reyes stared at her. Then: “Shut the fuck up.” Ace laughed. Immediately folded around the pain. “FUCK—” Reyes caught her before she twisted. “Idiot.” Ace wheezed. “Worth it.” “No.” Shammy said: “Yes.” Mai looked at Shammy. Shammy smiled. Kiro stood over the dead counterfeit Triad and shook her head. “Unbelievable.” Ace looked up. “What?” Kiro pointed at all of them. “This.” Reyes adjusted Ace carefully. “What about it?” Kiro looked at the body. Then at the five of them. “He spent years studying you.” Ace nodded. Kiro looked at Reyes. “And you shot the model.” Reyes answered: “No.” She looked down at Ace. “I shot the asshole.” Ace smiled. “Better.” --- # CHAPTER 17 — NOT BROKEN The ride out hurt more than the fight. Ace discovered that within forty seconds. Not because the injury had worsened. Because fighting had given her something else to do. Now there was only movement. Vehicle suspension. Turns. Acceleration. Braking. Every small change pulled at the same place along her side. Not sharp enough to feel like a knife. Worse in some ways. Deep. Hot. Tight. Like somebody had reached inside her torso, grabbed a handful of muscle and twisted. Ace sat very still. Reyes noticed. Of course she did. “You’re guarding.” Ace looked at her. “I’m sitting.” “Badly.” “You said that already.” “Still true.” Mai drove faster than normal. Not recklessly. Just without wasting anything. Shammy sat beside Ace. Close enough to support if needed. Not touching unless Ace moved toward her. Kiro sat opposite with the compact drone shut down between her boots. Its local recording remained intact. Evidence. Everything else could wait. Reyes looked at Ace’s hands. One resting on her thigh. The other drifting toward her side every time the vehicle turned. Ace caught her looking. “What?” “Stop touching it.” “I’m not.” “You are.” “I’m hovering.” “That’s touching with commitment issues.” Kiro looked up. Ace stared at Reyes. Then: “That was almost funny.” Reyes ignored her. Ace smiled faintly. Then the vehicle took another corner. Her expression changed. Tiny. Reyes saw it. “Breathing?” “Still doing it.” “Deep.” Ace glared. “No.” Reyes’s jaw tightened. Mai looked back through the mirror. “How bad?” Ace answered first. “Annoying.” Reyes said: “Moderate to severe with rotation and deep inspiration.” Ace slowly turned toward her. “Did you just translate my fucking injury into corpo?” Reyes looked at Mai. “Pain increased with vehicle movement. guarding right side. avoiding torso rotation.” Mai nodded. Ace stared. “Traitor.” Reyes looked at her. “You want useful or nice?” Ace considered. “Can I have filthy?” “No.” Kiro said: “Probably medically contraindicated.” Shammy looked at her. “Why?” Kiro opened her mouth. Stopped. Ace smiled despite herself. “Go on.” Kiro pointed at Shammy. “You know exactly what you’re doing now.” Shammy smiled. “Yes.” Ace laughed once. Pain hit immediately. She folded forward. “FUCK.” Reyes caught her shoulder before she twisted farther. “Don’t.” Ace sucked air. “Apparently.” Reyes kept one hand there until Ace settled. Then removed it. No fuss. No stroking. Just support until not needed. Mai saw that too. Stored it. The clinic was not Victor’s. Too far. Too visible. Mai used a private trauma service they had used before. Discrete. Competent. Expensive enough to ask fewer questions. The medtech took one look at the group and decided not to ask why one woman had fresh combat residue, another had electrical scoring on her jacket, another carried a signal rig, and Reyes still had powder residue on her hands. Ace sat on the examination table. Reyes stood beside it. The medtech looked at her. “Family?” Ace answered: “Annoying.” Reyes said: “No.” The medtech paused. Mai said: “She stays.” That settled it. The scan started. Ace hated scans. Not because they hurt. Because they required stillness. Reyes noticed that too. “Stop moving.” “I’m not moving.” “Your left foot is.” Ace looked down. It was. “Fuck.” Reyes leaned against the wall. “Professional diagnosis.” Ace looked at her. “You enjoying this?” “No.” “Liar.” Reyes did not answer. The medtech ran imaging across ribs. Soft tissue. Abdominal cavity. Lung field. Nothing dramatic appeared. No fracture. No internal bleed. No puncture. No collapsed lung. No organ damage. Mai’s shoulders lowered almost invisibly. Shammy noticed. So did Kiro. Ace saw none of it because the medtech pressed along her side. “Here?” “No.” Lower. “Here?” “No.” Back. “Here?” Ace flinched. “Fuck.” Reyes looked immediately. The medtech pressed more carefully. “Here.” Ace swore again. “Yes.” “Deep breath.” “No.” The medtech looked at her. Reyes said: “Do it.” Ace glared. “Who hired you?” “No one.” Ace inhaled. Halfway. Stopped. Pain tightened around the flank. She hissed. The medtech nodded. “Muscular.” Ace looked at him. “That sounds insultingly small.” “It doesn’t feel small.” “No.” “Likely strain with partial fiber tearing through the lateral torso.” Reyes’s expression changed. Professional now. “How extensive?” The medtech glanced toward her. “You medical?” “Sports massage.” “Former.” Reyes did not correct him. Ace noticed that. The medtech continued: “Imaging doesn’t suggest major rupture. No detached section. But enough tissue insult that she’s going to know about it for several days.” Ace looked toward Reyes. “Several?” Reyes ignored her. “What movements?” “Rotation. lateral flexion. deep breathing. reaching overhead. sudden extension. probably getting out of bed.” Ace stared. “That’s most of my fucking life.” The medtech nodded. “Yes.” Kiro said: “Good news, sitting still remains available.” Ace looked toward her. “You are walking home.” Shammy smiled. The medtech continued. “No active combat.” Ace looked offended. Reyes said: “Obviously.” Ace turned. “You stay out of this.” “No.” “Whose side are you on?” Reyes looked at her. “Yours.” That shut Ace up. Only for a second. Then: “Manipulative.” Reyes almost smiled. The medtech gave Ace anti-inflammatory medication, short-term analgesia, and movement restrictions. Nothing heavy enough to disconnect her from herself. Ace preferred that. Reyes read the instructions over his shoulder. Ace saw that too. “You planning to invoice?” “No.” “Then stop stealing his job.” Reyes looked at the instructions. “He’s writing generic recovery guidance.” The medtech looked at her. Reyes added: “Which is fine.” He looked amused. “You want to take over?” “No.” Ace said: “Yes.” Reyes looked at her. Ace grinned. “See?” The medtech finished. “First forty-eight hours, protect it.” Reyes nodded. “No deep tissue work.” “Correct.” “No aggressive stretching.” “Correct.” “Comfortable position. short movement. pain-limited.” “Exactly.” Ace stared at both of them. “This is becoming extremely erotic.” Both answered: “No.” Kiro laughed. Shammy said: “Very compatible.” Mai closed her eyes. Ace pointed. “There.” Reyes looked at Shammy. “Stop helping.” Shammy smiled. The medtech checked Ace once more. “If pain changes character, breathing gets worse, dizziness, abdominal symptoms, or anything new—come back.” Mai nodded. “We will.” Ace looked at Mai. “I also exist.” Mai looked at her. “Yes.” “Good.” Reyes said: “Debatable.” Ace stared. Then smiled. “Back.” The medtech did not understand. No one explained. --- The safehouse stairs were the first humiliation. Ace reached the third step. Stopped. Not dramatically. Just stopped. Reyes was behind her. Mai ahead. Shammy and Kiro carrying equipment. Ace looked upward. Then downward. Then upward again. Reyes said: “Need help?” “No.” “Okay.” Ace took another step. Pain tightened. She adjusted. Too much weight through one side. Reyes saw it. “Don’t.” Ace looked back. “What?” “You’re hiking the hip.” “I’m climbing stairs.” “You’re compensating.” “I am compensating for being stabbed by a fucking building.” “He didn’t stab you.” “You know what I mean.” Reyes stepped up beside her. Not touching. “Shorter step.” Ace stared. “Excuse me?” “Shorter.” Ace tried. Less pull. She hated that immediately. Reyes saw her expression. “What?” “Nothing.” “Worked.” “Fuck you.” Reyes smiled. “Good.” Ace climbed. Slowly. Shorter steps. No twisting. By the top, she was furious. Not at Reyes. At her own body. That was different. Mai opened the safehouse door. Ace walked inside. Then stopped because reaching to remove her jacket hurt. Reyes saw that too. Ace tried again. Pain. Small. Sharp enough. Reyes stepped closer. “Arm.” Ace looked at her. “I can do it.” “I know.” Ace stared. Reyes held out one hand. “Arm.” Ace sighed. Raised it only as far as comfortable. Reyes took the jacket off carefully. No flourish. No tenderness performance. Just knowing where the fabric would pull and avoiding it. Ace watched her face. Concentrated. Calm. The same face that had walked toward the psycho. The thought arrived before Ace could stop it. Reyes noticed her staring. “What?” Ace smiled slightly. “You’re weird.” Reyes hung the jacket. “You’re short.” Ace’s mouth fell open. Kiro made a sound from across the room. Shammy looked delighted. Mai turned away. Ace pointed at Reyes. “You motherfucker.” Reyes smiled. There. Tiny. Then gone. Ace sat down. Carefully. Too carefully. Reyes watched. “You’re twisting.” Ace froze. “I’m sitting.” “Badly.” Ace looked toward the ceiling. “Does this ever end?” “No.” Kiro walked past. “Seven-day subscription.” Ace stared at her. “You too?” Kiro shrugged. “Strong early reviews.” Shammy sat beside Ace. Not on the injured side. Mai put water on the table. Ace looked at it. Then at Mai. “I can reach that.” Mai said: “I know.” Ace paused. Looked at Reyes. Reyes looked back. Ace pointed between them. “No.” Mai raised an eyebrow. “You two are doing the same fucking thing.” Reyes sat opposite. “Yes.” Ace looked at Shammy. “Help me.” Shammy considered. Then moved the water two centimeters closer. Ace stared. Shammy smiled. Ace grabbed the glass. “Betrayal everywhere.” The safehouse settled around them. Weapons unloaded. Gear checked. Kiro copied the drone recording twice. Then three times. Mai sent Rogue the local evidence package. No one discussed Reyes’s magazine. Not yet. It sat in the room anyway. Invisible. Heavy. Ace drank. Looked at Reyes. Reyes was cleaning her pistol. New magazine beside her. Methodical. Ace watched. Reyes felt it. “What?” Ace said: “You really didn’t know.” The room changed. Kiro stopped moving. Shammy looked toward Ace. Mai stayed still. Reyes knew exactly what she meant. How badly Ace had been hurt. Before the shots. Reyes looked down at the pistol. “No.” Ace nodded. Reyes continued: “I saw you go down.” “Yes.” “I saw him still moving.” “Barely.” “I know that now.” Silence. Mai spoke. “He was disabled.” Reyes looked at her. “Yes.” “Not tactically necessary.” “No.” Mai held her gaze. Reyes did not look away. Ace watched both. Mai said: “I understand why.” Reyes’s jaw tightened. “That doesn’t make it right.” Mai answered: “I did not say it did.” Silence again. Good silence. Not his. Theirs. Reyes looked at Ace. “I made the decision.” Ace nodded. “Yes.” “No excuses.” “I know.” “I’m not asking for one.” “I know.” Reyes looked at the pistol again. Then: “He hit you.” Ace’s expression softened. Reyes saw it and immediately looked annoyed. “Don’t.” Ace smiled. “What?” “That.” “You keep saying that.” “Because you keep doing it.” Ace shifted. Pain pulled. Her face tightened. Reyes was on her feet immediately. Ace raised one hand. “Ah.” Reyes stopped. Choice. Not automatic. Ace saw it. So did Reyes. That mattered. Ace adjusted herself slowly. “Just moved wrong.” Reyes watched. “You’re protecting too far forward.” Ace stared. “What?” “You’re rotating around the pain.” “English.” “You’re making your back do what your side doesn’t want to.” Ace sighed. “And?” “And tomorrow your back will hurt too.” “Excellent.” Reyes walked closer. Stopped. “Can I?” Ace looked at her. There it was. Not assumption. Not ownership. Choice. Ace nodded. “Yes.” Reyes put two fingers lightly against the muscle beside Ace’s spine. Not the injury. Checking tension. Then her hip. Then shoulder position. Ace stayed still. Reyes stepped back. “Yeah.” Ace looked at her. “Yeah what?” “You’re compensating.” “I hate you.” “No.” “Little bit.” Reyes looked toward the couch. “Lie down.” Ace stared. Shammy smiled. Kiro looked interested. Mai did not even pretend not to listen. Ace pointed at all of them. “Not one fucking comment.” Nobody spoke. Ace looked at Reyes. “Which way?” Reyes indicated. “Uninjured side. Pillow support.” Ace moved. Slowly. Reyes corrected one angle. Then another. No massage. No digging into damaged tissue. Just position. Ace settled. Her breath came easier. Immediately. She hated that too. Reyes saw it. “Better.” Ace closed her eyes. “Fuck you.” “Good.” Shammy looked at Mai. Mai looked back. Kiro smiled. Reyes sat in the chair beside the couch. Ace opened one eye. “You staying?” Reyes looked at her. “For a while.” Ace smiled. “Do you actually have a home?” “Yes.” A beat. “Been visiting yours.” Ace looked at her. Reyes looked away. Shammy smiled. Mai did too. Ace closed her eye again. Pain still there. Deep. Hot. Restricting. But breathing easier. Body supported. Safehouse around her. Mai rested one hand loosely around Ace’s ankle, contact quiet enough not to ask for a response. Shammy settled her palm between Ace’s shoulder blades, warm and well clear of the damaged side. And Reyes still sitting beside the couch. The same woman who had emptied a magazine into the man who hit her. Now refusing to touch the injury because touching it too soon would make it worse. Ace smiled into the pillow. Reyes noticed. “Stop.” Ace’s eyes stayed closed. “No.” For once, Reyes let her have it. --- # CHAPTER 18 — COMPENSATION Ace woke up angry. Not because she had slept badly. She had actually slept surprisingly well. That was part of the problem. For almost five seconds after opening her eyes, she forgot. Then she tried to roll over. Pain reminded her. “Fuck.” The word came out into the pillow. Mai, already awake beside her, opened one eye. “Good morning.” “No.” Shammy, somewhere on the other side, said: “It is morning.” Ace stared into the pillow. “Traitors.” Mai sat up carefully. “How bad?” Ace remained face-down. “Manageable.” Mai waited. Ace sighed. “Annoying.” “That is not a scale.” “It is my scale.” Shammy said: “Yesterday was also annoying.” “Different annoying.” Mai looked at her. Ace rolled slowly onto the uninjured side. Stopped halfway. Corrected. Mai noticed the correction. Ace noticed Mai noticing. “Don’t.” Mai said nothing. “That was worse.” Mai smiled. Ace pushed herself upright. Too fast. Her right hand immediately went toward her side. She stopped it halfway. Mai saw that too. Ace looked at her own hand. Then at Mai. “Fuck.” Mai leaned closer. “Reyes was right.” Ace looked offended. “Do not say that before coffee.” Shammy sat up. “She was right before coffee too.” Ace stared at her. “You are becoming intolerable.” Shammy smiled. “Yes.” Ace got her feet on the floor. Stood. Slowly. Not bad. Actually— Pretty good. She straightened. No sharp pain. Breathing easier than last night. Ace smiled. Mai watched her. “What?” “Nothing.” “That means something.” “It means nothing.” Ace stretched one shoulder. Carefully. Still fine. She looked smug. “I’m healing.” Mai nodded. “Yes.” “Fast.” “Possibly.” Ace pointed. “Don’t start.” Mai smiled. Ace walked toward the kitchen. Normal. Almost normal. Tiny stiffness. Nothing dramatic. She reached for a mug. Stopped. The mug was on the second shelf. Not high. Normally irrelevant. Ace lifted her arm. Pain tightened along her side. Not terrible. Just enough to make her shoulder compensate. She rose slightly onto one foot. Reached with more arm than torso. Got the mug. Victory. Then a voice from behind her said: “No.” Ace froze. Slowly turned. Reyes stood in the doorway. Coffee in one hand. Jacket half-open. Ace stared. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Reyes took a sip. “Morning.” “How long have you been standing there?” “Long enough.” Mai walked past. “Coffee?” “Yes.” Reyes handed her the second cup she had apparently brought. Ace stared harder. “You brought her coffee?” “Yes.” “What about me?” Reyes looked at the mug Ace was still holding. “You seem resourceful.” Ace’s mouth opened. Shammy appeared behind her. Reyes handed Shammy another cup. Ace looked betrayed. “You brought everyone coffee except me?” Reyes looked at her. “You already had one.” Ace looked down. Empty mug. No coffee. She looked back up. Reyes smiled. Small. Ace pointed. “You’re evil.” “Sit.” “No.” Reyes looked at how Ace was standing. Then: “Sit.” Ace sighed. “I feel better.” “I know.” “Much better.” “I know.” “So—” “You’re compensating.” Ace closed her eyes. Mai took a drink. Shammy watched with open interest. Ace opened her eyes again. “No, I’m not.” Reyes walked closer. “You lifted the right hip to reach.” Ace frowned. “I reached.” “You rotated left to avoid loading the side.” “That sounds made up.” “You’re holding your right shoulder two centimeters higher.” Ace looked at Mai. Mai looked at Ace’s shoulder. Then at Reyes. “Yes.” Ace stared. “You two are fucking unbearable.” Shammy said: “Three.” Ace looked at her. Shammy smiled. Ace turned back to Reyes. “I am walking normally.” “No.” “I literally just walked.” “You shortened your right stride.” Ace stared. Reyes took another sip of coffee. “You’re also not letting the arm swing.” Ace looked down. Her right arm was closer to her body. Fuck. Reyes watched the realization. “Sit.” Ace sat. Angrily. Reyes nodded. “Good girl.” Ace pointed at her. “I hate how much you enjoy being right.” “I don’t.” “Liar.” Reyes set down her coffee. Then crouched slightly in front of Ace. “Pain now?” “Three.” “Your scale?” “Yes.” “What was it getting out of bed?” “Four.” “Reaching?” “Five.” “Deep breath?” Ace inhaled. Carefully. Not full. “Four.” Reyes nodded. “Better.” Ace smiled. “See?” “Not healed.” Ace’s smile disappeared. “Rude.” Reyes looked at her. “Can I check?” Ace nodded. “Yes.” Reyes placed one hand lightly against Ace’s lower back. The other near the opposite side of the torso. Not pressing into the injury. She asked Ace to rotate left. A little. Then right. Right stopped early. Not because Ace could not go farther. Because her body had already decided not to. Reyes felt it before Ace did. “There.” Ace frowned. “What?” “You stopped.” “I’m injured.” “You stopped before pain.” Ace looked at her. Reyes guided her back to neutral. “Your nervous system is protecting it.” “That sounds useful.” “It is.” “Then why are you complaining?” “Because it becomes a problem if you teach the rest of your body to move around it.” Ace sighed. “So I’m doing recovery wrong.” “No.” Ace blinked. Reyes continued: “You’re doing exactly what bodies do.” Ace looked suspicious. “That was almost kind.” “Don’t get used to it.” There she was. Ace smiled. Reyes looked at her shoulder. “Raise the arm.” Ace did. Stopped at the first pull. Reyes nodded. “Good.” Ace frowned. “Good?” “You stopped before forcing it.” “I learn.” “Slowly.” “Fuck you.” “Later.” There was a silence. Kiro walked in. Stopped. Looked at Reyes. Looked at Ace. Looked at Mai. Then: “Did I miss something?” Ace smiled. “Oh, no.” Reyes looked at Kiro. Kiro narrowed her eyes. Shammy said: “Operationally.” Mai turned away with her coffee. Kiro stared. “Fuck all of you.” Ace laughed. Pain tightened. She hissed. Reyes immediately looked back. Ace pointed at her. “Don’t.” Reyes held both hands up. Choice. Ace settled. The moment passed. Kiro walked toward the kitchen. “Rogue sent confirmation.” Mai’s expression changed. “Public?” “Not public-public.” Ace looked over. Kiro continued: “Afterlife internal circulation is done. People who saw the feed are talking.” Reyes asked: “About the framing?” “Yes.” “And?” Kiro looked at her. “And you.” Reyes’s face did nothing. Ace smiled. “Popular.” Kiro poured coffee. “Depends on definition.” Mai said: “Rogue?” “Statement is simple.” Kiro looked toward her terminal. “She considers the evidence sufficient. Wakako does too.” Ace exhaled. Not relief exactly. Something close. Kiro continued: “No open contracts.” Mai nodded once. That mattered. A lot. Shammy looked at Reyes. “What are they saying?” Kiro hesitated. Reyes noticed. “Say it.” Kiro shrugged. “Half think it was terrifying.” Ace smiled. “Correct.” “Half think it was romantic.” Reyes stared at her. Ace lit up. “Oh my fucking god.” Kiro held up a finger. “And almost everyone agrees you looked extremely calm.” Ace looked at Reyes. “Also correct.” Reyes closed her eyes. “I’m leaving.” Ace immediately said: “No.” Reyes opened her eyes. Ace froze. Automatic. There it was. Both of them heard it. Ace looked away. Reyes did too. Then Reyes said: “I was joking.” Ace nodded. “Good.” Mai watched. Said nothing. Shammy watched too. Also nothing. Kiro, wisely, drank coffee. The silence softened. Then Reyes looked back at Ace. “Lie down.” Ace stared. “Excuse me?” “We can do a little more today.” Ace’s expression changed. “Bodywork?” “Assessment first.” Ace smiled. “Sounds suspiciously like foreplay.” Reyes looked exhausted. “Not yet.” Kiro leaned against the counter. Ace looked at her. “Don’t you have nerd mating to do?” Kiro almost choked. Shammy said: “Would it improve recovery?” Mai put her cup down. Ace laughed. Immediately regretted it. “FUCK.” Reyes pointed. “Couch.” Ace obeyed. Still swearing. --- Reyes did not touch the injury first. That surprised Ace. She started with everything around it. Back. Hip. Opposite side. Shoulder. The places doing extra work because the damaged tissue was refusing. Ace lay on her uninjured side with a pillow supporting the torso. Reyes sat behind her. Hands professional. Warm. Precise. Nothing rushed. Ace had expected pain. There was some. But mostly she felt how much tension had already collected elsewhere. Reyes pressed into the lower back. Ace inhaled. “Jesus.” “Too much?” “No.” Reyes adjusted pressure anyway. Less. Ace noticed. “You didn’t believe me.” “I believed your answer.” “Then why—” “Because your body answered differently.” Ace went quiet. That landed harder than expected. Reyes worked slowly along the compensating muscles. No deep pressure near the tear. No stretching into pain. Just reducing everything else that had started bracing around it. Ace breathed. Longer now. Easier. Reyes moved to the shoulder. Ace flinched. Reyes stopped instantly. “Pain?” “Not injury.” “Tension?” “Yes.” Reyes nodded. Continued lighter. Ace closed her eyes. “Okay.” Reyes said nothing. Ace opened one eye. “That was a compliment.” “I know.” “You could acknowledge it.” “No.” Ace smiled. Reyes found another tight spot. Ace’s smile vanished. “OH, fuck you.” “Good.” “That is not good.” “You’re breathing through it.” “I’m swearing through it.” “Same function.” Ace laughed carefully. “See, now you’re getting it.” Reyes’s thumb shifted a fraction. Ace swore again. Kiro called from across the room: “You alive?” Ace shouted: “NO.” Reyes said: “Yes.” Shammy said: “Mostly.” Ace looked toward them. “Why is everyone here?” Mai answered: “This is our home.” Ace stared. “Technicality.” Reyes continued working. Ace’s breathing gradually slowed. The right shoulder dropped. The left side stopped doing quite so much. The hip relaxed. Reyes noticed. “Better.” Ace murmured: “Mm.” Reyes stopped. Ace opened her eyes. “Why’d you stop?” “Because that’s enough.” Ace frowned. “I’m fine.” “Exactly.” “What does that mean?” “It means we stop while your body still thinks this was useful.” Ace considered. “Annoyingly sensible.” “Yes.” Reyes helped her sit without twisting. Ace took the offered forearm. Not hand. Forearm. Stable. Controlled. She stood. Reyes watched. Ace took a few steps. Stopped. Then walked back. Her stride was still shortened. But less. The arm swung more naturally. Ace looked down at herself. Then at Reyes. “Fuck.” Reyes smiled. “Good.” Ace narrowed her eyes. “You’ve weaponized that word.” “Yes.” Mai walked over. “How does it feel?” Ace rotated very slightly. Stopped before pain. “Looser.” Reyes nodded. “Not stronger.” Ace looked at her. “I know.” Reyes raised an eyebrow. Ace sighed. “I know.” Shammy smiled. Ace looked at Reyes again. “You coming tomorrow?” The question came out too quickly. Everyone heard it. Reyes did not answer immediately. Ace’s expression changed. Tiny. Reyes saw that. “Yes.” Ace relaxed. Also tiny. “Good.” Reyes picked up her jacket. Ace smiled. “Do you actually have a home?” Reyes looked at her. “Yes.” A beat. “Still visiting yours.” Ace smiled. This time Reyes let her. ---- # CHAPTER 19 — BETTER IS NOT DONE Reyes came back the next day. Ace had been waiting. She absolutely refused to describe it that way. She was merely in the safehouse. At the same time Reyes happened to arrive. Fully dressed. Coffee already finished. Hair done. Sitting casually at the kitchen counter. For forty-three minutes. Mai had noticed. Shammy had noticed. Neither had said anything. Which was worse. The door opened. Ace immediately looked toward it. Then deliberately looked away. Reyes walked in. “Morning.” Ace shrugged. “Hey.” Reyes stopped. Looked at her. Ace looked back. “What?” “You’re sitting differently.” Ace’s expression brightened before she could stop it. “Better?” Reyes took off her jacket. “Yes.” Ace smiled. Then remembered herself. “Obviously.” Reyes approached. “Walk.” Ace stared. “No hello?” “I said morning.” “No flowers?” “No.” “Chocolate?” “No.” “Sex?” Reyes stopped. Mai looked up from the table. Shammy smiled. Ace waited. Reyes said: “Walk.” Ace sighed. “Coward.” She hopped down from the stool. That was mistake one. Not painful. Just too quick. Reyes’s eyes narrowed. Ace saw it. “Don’t.” “I didn’t.” “You thought something.” “Yes.” Ace walked across the room. Normal pace. Turned. Walked back. Reyes watched her feet. Hips. Shoulders. Arm swing. Breathing. Ace stopped in front of her. “Well?” “Better.” Ace smiled. “Ha.” “Still compensating.” “Fuck.” “Less.” Ace considered. “I’ll take it.” Reyes nodded. “Good girl.” Ace froze. Mai’s eyes slowly lifted. Shammy looked delighted. Reyes walked past Ace toward the kitchen. Ace turned. “You did that intentionally.” Reyes poured water. “Yes.” Ace stared. “Bitch.” Reyes took a drink. “Yes.” Shammy said: “She is learning.” Ace pointed at Shammy. “Do not encourage her.” Mai said: “Too late.” Ace looked between all three. “This household has collapsed.” Mai passed behind her on the way back to the table, caught Ace lightly under the chin and kissed her once. Ace leaned into it, fingers closing briefly around Mai’s wrist. When Mai released her, the amused glare returned to Reyes exactly where it had left off. Reyes waited until Mai sat down again. Reyes set down the glass. “Deep breath.” Ace inhaled. Almost full. A pull. Not sharp. She finished it anyway. Reyes noticed. “Pain?” “Two.” “Actually?” “Two and a half.” Reyes nodded. “Rotation.” Ace rotated left. Fine. Right. Better than yesterday. Still restricted. Reyes held up a hand before Ace could push farther. Ace stopped. “Didn’t hurt yet.” “I know.” “Then why stop?” “Because you were about to turn it into a test.” Ace looked offended. “I like tests.” “You like winning.” “Same thing.” “No.” Ace sighed. Reyes pointed toward the couch. “Today we can work closer.” Ace’s eyebrows rose. “How close?” Reyes stared. Ace smiled. “Sorry. Reflex.” “No, you’re not.” “No.” --- Reyes began the same way. Everything around the injury first. Back. Hip. Shoulder. Opposite side. But there was less resistance now. Ace noticed it. So did Reyes. “You’ve been moving better.” Ace closed her eyes. “That sounded like praise.” “It was data.” “Fuck data.” Kiro called from the table: “Rude.” Ace opened one eye. Kiro was working through the copied drone footage. “You still doing nerd shit?” “Yes.” “Any mating?” Kiro looked at Reyes. Reyes looked at Kiro. Ace saw it. So did Mai. Kiro immediately looked back at her screen. “No.” Ace smiled. Interesting. Reyes pressed along Ace’s lower back. Ace’s smile vanished. “Fuck.” “Still there.” “No shit.” “Less.” Ace breathed through it. Reyes moved upward. Then stopped. Her hand came to rest near the edge of the injured area. Not on it. Ace felt the pause. “You’re thinking.” “Yes.” “Dangerous.” “Very.” Ace waited. Reyes said: “Tell me before it becomes pain.” Ace nodded. Reyes began with almost no pressure. Not massage. Contact. Reading. The tissue beneath her hand was still guarded. Still warmer. Still unwilling to lengthen normally. Ace’s breathing changed. Reyes stopped. “Pain?” “No.” “Pull?” “Yes.” “Where?” Ace indicated. Reyes adjusted by less than an inch. The pull decreased. “There?” “Better.” Reyes continued. Slow. Small movements. Nothing deep. Nothing aggressive. She followed the boundary instead of entering it. Ace stayed quiet longer than usual. Reyes noticed. “Still alive?” Ace murmured: “Thinking.” “That’s dangerous.” Ace opened one eye. “You stole that.” “Yes.” Ace smiled. Then Reyes found a point where surrounding tissue had tightened hard around the injury. Ace inhaled sharply. “There.” Reyes immediately reduced pressure. Ace swore. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” “Pain?” “Three.” “Sharp?” “No.” “Pull?” “Yes.” Reyes held. Did not push. Waited. Ace’s breathing gradually lengthened. The tissue softened slightly under her hand. Ace exhaled. “Oh.” Reyes moved away. Ace frowned. “Why?” “Enough.” “You keep doing that.” “Yes.” “You find the horrible bit and then leave.” “Yes.” “That seems ethically questionable.” “It isn’t.” Ace shifted carefully. “Feels better.” “I know.” “You could look more smug.” “I could.” “You should.” “No.” Ace rolled onto her back with Reyes guiding the movement. Reyes watched the rotation. Cleaner. Less protective. Ace saw her expression. “What?” “Again.” Ace rolled back. Then returned. Reyes nodded. “Better.” Ace smiled. Reyes added: “Still not done.” Ace’s smile disappeared. “You ruin everything.” “Yes.” --- By day four, Ace had become dangerous. Not combat dangerous. Recovery dangerous. The kind of dangerous produced when pain dropped far enough that common sense became optional. Reyes discovered this when she arrived and found Ace standing in the middle of the safehouse with one katana. Mai stood opposite her. Not fighting. Apparently discussing something. Reyes stopped in the doorway. “No.” Ace turned. “Hello to you too.” “What are you doing?” “Nothing.” “You’re holding a sword.” “Yes.” “That’s not nothing.” Ace looked at the katana. “This weighs almost nothing.” Reyes stared. Ace corrected: “Relative to me.” Reyes walked in. Mai looked innocent. Reyes looked at her. “You allowed this?” Mai answered: “She wanted to check grip transitions.” Reyes stared harder. Mai added: “Without striking.” Reyes looked back at Ace. Ace smiled. “See?” “No.” Ace sighed. “I’m not fighting.” “You’re rotating.” “Barely.” “Show me.” Ace blinked. “What?” “The transition.” Ace looked suspicious. Then demonstrated. Slowly. Katana changing from one guard position to another. Feet stable. Shoulders turning. Torso following. Reyes watched. First transition clean. Second clean. Third— There. Tiny. Ace shortened the rotation on the injured side and compensated through shoulder and hip. Reyes said: “Again.” Ace did. Same. Reyes walked closer. “You’re cheating.” Ace looked scandalized. “I have never cheated at anything in my life.” Mai coughed. Shammy looked away. Kiro laughed from the couch. Ace glared at everyone. Reyes pointed at Ace’s hip. “You’re opening this early.” Ace looked down. “Am not.” “Again.” Ace performed the transition. Reyes touched two fingers lightly against Ace’s hip before she moved. Ace stopped. “Oh.” Reyes nodded. “Exactly.” Ace handed the katana to Mai. “Fuck.” Reyes smiled. “Good.” “I hate that word.” “No, you don’t.” Ace looked at her. Reyes’s smile grew by a fraction. Ace narrowed her eyes. “Dangerous.” Shammy said: “Very.” Ace turned. “Stop helping.” --- Day five was worse. Because Ace woke up feeling almost normal. Almost. That was the trap. She dressed without help. Reached overhead without thinking. Twisted to grab something behind her. Nothing happened. No sharp pain. No sudden pull. Just a faint stiffness. She grinned. Mai saw. “What?” “I’m back.” Mai immediately said: “No.” Ace stared. “You don’t even know what I mean.” “Yes, I do.” Shammy walked past. “You mean you believe one low-pain morning has overruled tissue healing.” Ace looked at her. “You two have been talking to Reyes too much.” Shammy smiled. “Yes.” Ace deliberately rotated. Fuller than before. Still fine. She raised both arms. Fine. Bent sideways. Small pull. Nothing important. Ace smiled. “See?” Mai said: “I see.” “Victory.” “No.” Ace sighed. Then the door opened. Reyes walked in. Ace spread both arms. “Behold.” Reyes looked at her. “No.” Ace dropped her arms. “FUCK YOU.” Reyes smiled. “Morning.” “I’m fine.” “Walk.” Ace walked. Normal. Reyes watched. Ace turned. Normal. Came back. Normal. Ace stopped. Smug. Reyes nodded. “Good.” Ace’s smile became enormous. Then Reyes said: “Reach down and pick up your boot.” Ace frowned. “What?” Reyes pointed. One of Ace’s boots sat near the couch. Ace walked over. Bent. Picked it up. Easy. Straightened. Reyes said: “Again.” Ace stared. “Why?” “Other hand.” Ace put it down. Bent. Reached across slightly with the other hand. Her torso rotated. Then stopped. Tiny hesitation. Right before the final reach. Ace froze. Reyes said nothing. Ace slowly stood. “Fuck.” “Good.” “You knew.” “Yes.” “You walked in here already knowing.” “No.” Ace looked at her. Reyes pointed at Ace’s body. “You told me.” Ace stared down at herself. “I hate when you say shit like that.” “No, you don’t.” Ace looked up. Reyes was smiling. Not teasing now. Warm. Ace’s expression softened. “Maybe a little.” Reyes nodded toward the couch. “Today we work movement.” Ace sat. “What does that mean?” “It means I stop doing some of the work for you.” “That sounds terrible.” “Yes.” Reyes moved in front of her. “Stand.” Ace stood. “Turn.” Ace turned. “Again.” She turned back. Reyes put one hand lightly against the side of Ace’s lower ribs. Not pressing. Reference. “Now turn without leaving my hand behind.” Ace frowned. Tried. Her body started the familiar compensation. Reyes’s hand stayed where it was. Ace stopped herself. Reset. Tried again. Slower. Hip and shoulder moved together. The injured side lengthened slightly. Pull. Not pain. Ace breathed. Reyes watched. “Good.” Ace finished the movement. Something felt different. Not looser. Connected. “Again.” Ace did. Better. Again. Better. Reyes removed her hand. “Now without me.” Ace rotated. Clean. Not full range. But clean. She stopped. Looked at Reyes. Reyes nodded. Ace smiled. “Okay.” “Again.” “You could celebrate.” “No.” “Little kiss?” “No.” “Good girl?” Reyes looked at her. Ace waited. Reyes said: “Do it correctly first.” Ace’s mouth opened. From across the room, Kiro made a choking sound. Mai looked directly at the ceiling. Shammy smiled serenely. Ace stared at Reyes. “You cannot fucking say that and then expect biomechanics.” Reyes folded her arms. “Apparently I can.” Ace pointed. “You planned that.” “Yes.” “Absolute cunt.” “Turn.” Ace turned. Clean. Reyes watched. “Again.” Ace did. Cleaner. “Again.” Ace did. Almost normal. Reyes smiled. “Good girl.” Ace stopped dead. Closed her eyes. Then quietly: “Fuck you.” Reyes nodded. “Later.” Kiro dropped something. Everyone looked at her. Kiro was staring very hard at the drone footage. “Nothing.” Ace slowly looked from Kiro to Reyes. Reyes slowly looked toward Kiro. Shammy looked between them. Mai said: “No.” Nobody had asked her anything. Ace’s grin spread. “Oh, this is going to be fun.” Mai pointed at her. “You are injured.” Ace looked down at herself. Then back up. “For now.” Reyes shook her head. But she was smiling. Ace saw it. More importantly, Ace stood differently now. Both feet taking weight. Shoulders level. Right arm hanging naturally. No unconscious hand protecting the side. Not finished. Not ready. But closer. Reyes noticed all of it. She always did. Ace noticed Reyes noticing. And this time she did not ask. She simply smiled. Reyes gave the smallest nod. Better. Not done. Enough for today. ---- # CHAPTER 20 — BULLSHIT On day six, Reyes was late. Eleven minutes. Ace knew because she had checked. Once. Possibly four times. She was not counting. Mai was. “You checked the time again.” Ace looked away from the window. “No.” “You did.” “I looked at a clock.” “Four times.” “There are clocks everywhere.” Shammy looked around the safehouse. “There are three.” Ace pointed at her. “You are not helping.” “I know.” Kiro was stretched across one end of the couch with a datapad balanced against one knee. “Maybe Reyes has a life.” Ace looked at her. “That seems unlikely.” Kiro smiled. “Maybe she has another tiny injured girlfriend.” Ace stared. Mai stopped typing. Shammy looked interested. Ace slowly walked toward the couch. Kiro lowered the datapad. “You are injured.” “Less every second.” “You cannot murder me during recovery.” “I can improvise.” The door opened. Ace immediately turned. Reyes walked in. Kiro smiled. “Saved by sports massage.” Reyes stopped. “What?” “Nothing.” Ace looked at Reyes. “You’re late.” Reyes looked at the time. “Eleven minutes.” “I wasn’t counting.” Mai said: “Four times.” Ace spun toward her. “FUCK YOU.” Reyes smiled. “Miss me?” “No.” “Good.” Ace looked offended. “That was your opportunity.” “I know.” “Wasted.” “No.” Reyes took off her jacket. Ace watched. Then deliberately did something she had been waiting all morning to do. She stretched. Both arms overhead. Full extension. No hesitation. No protective curve. Then she rotated right. Fuller. Left. Back. She bent sideways. Straightened. Spread her arms. “Behold.” Reyes watched. Ace waited. “Very impressive.” Ace’s eyes widened. Mai looked up. Shammy looked up. Kiro lowered her datapad. Ace pointed at Reyes. “Say that again.” “No.” “You said impressive.” “Yes.” “Everyone heard it.” Kiro nodded. “Recorded.” Ace grinned. Reyes walked toward her. “Pain?” “Zero.” Reyes stopped. “Zero?” Ace considered. “Fine. Half.” “Where?” “Only at the very end of lateral stretch.” “Breathing?” “Nothing.” “Getting out of bed?” “Nothing.” “Reaching?” “Nothing.” “Dressing?” “Nothing.” Reyes nodded. “Good.” Ace smiled. Reyes looked at her for another second. Then: “Turn around.” Ace’s smile faded. “Why?” “Turn around.” Ace turned. Reyes looked at her back. “Walk.” Ace walked. Turned. Came back. “Again.” Ace did. Reyes watched. No shortened stride. No raised shoulder. Arm swing normal. Pelvis level. Breathing easy. Ace stopped. “Well?” “Looks good.” Ace stared. “You feeling okay?” “Yes.” “You haven’t insulted me.” “Yet.” Ace smiled. “Progress.” Reyes stepped closer. “Can I?” Ace nodded. “Always.” Reyes paused. Ace caught it. “Okay. Usually.” Reyes smiled. “Better.” Her hands checked Ace’s shoulders. Level. Lower back. Relaxed. Hip. No obvious guarding. Then the edge of the injured side. Light pressure. Ace did not react. Slightly more. Nothing. Reyes moved around to face her. Ace looked unbearably smug. “Say it.” “No.” “Say I’m healed.” “No.” “Say I’m amazing.” “No.” “Say good girl.” Reyes stared. Ace smiled. Reyes said: “Not yet.” Ace’s smile became something else. Kiro made a noise from the couch. Mai looked at her. Kiro raised both hands. “I said nothing.” Shammy said: “You made a sound.” “I regret it.” Reyes stepped back. “Okay.” Ace blinked. “Okay?” “Okay.” “That sounded suspicious.” “It wasn’t.” Ace narrowed her eyes. “What are we doing?” “Nothing.” “That is extremely suspicious.” Reyes walked toward the kitchen. Ace turned to follow. Reyes said: “Catch.” And tossed her keys. Not hard. Not fast. Not toward Ace’s hands. Slightly behind her right shoulder. Ace reacted. No thought. No preparation. Her right foot planted. Torso snapped around. Arm reached back. She caught the keys. And froze. There. Not pain. Not really. A tiny hitch. A fraction of protective shortening through the injured side. So small nobody who was not Reyes would have cared. Reyes cared. Ace slowly turned back. Reyes held out her hand. Ace walked over. Dropped the keys into it. “Fuck.” Reyes nodded. “Bullshit.” Ace stared. “That was dirty.” “Yes.” “You tricked me.” “Yes.” “You deliberately threw them wrong.” “Yes.” Ace pointed at her. “You manipulative cunt.” “Yes.” Kiro was laughing. Ace turned. “This isn’t funny.” “It’s extremely funny.” “I caught them.” Reyes said: “That isn’t the point.” Ace turned back. “I caught them perfectly.” “You protected the side.” “For maybe a fucking millisecond.” “Yes.” “That doesn’t count.” “It counts.” Ace looked at Mai. Mai had the unmistakable expression of someone trying very hard not to smile. “Don’t.” Mai said: “Nothing.” Ace looked at Shammy. Shammy smiled openly. “You compensated.” Ace threw both hands up. “EVERYBODY can fuck off.” Reyes waited. Ace glared at her. Then: “How bad?” “Almost nothing.” Ace blinked. Reyes continued: “That’s why I needed you not to know.” Ace’s anger disappeared a little. “If I’d told you what I was testing, you would have moved correctly.” Ace sighed. “Because I’m fucking excellent.” “Yes.” Ace stopped. Looked at her. Reyes realized what she had said. Ace smiled slowly. “There it is.” Reyes closed her eyes. “Fuck.” “Say it again.” “No.” “Good girl?” “No.” Ace laughed. No pain. That registered too. Reyes opened her eyes. Ace noticed. “What?” “Nothing.” “Bullshit.” Reyes smiled. “Good.” Ace stared. “You are impossible.” “Yes.” --- The bodywork was different that day. Less recovery. More preparation. Reyes worked the remaining tension around Ace’s side, but the injury itself no longer dictated everything. Ace could lie comfortably in positions that had been impossible five days earlier. Could breathe fully. Could rotate without the whole body trying to protect one place. Reyes used firmer pressure now. Still controlled. Still listening. Ace lasted almost three minutes before: “FUCK.” Reyes smiled. “There she is.” “You enjoyed that.” “A little.” Ace lifted her head. “You admitted it.” “Lie down.” “You fucking admitted it.” Reyes pressed into a stubborn band along Ace’s back. Ace’s head dropped immediately. “OH, YOU BITCH.” “Breathe.” “I AM.” “You’re yelling.” “I can multitask.” Kiro called from the table: “Strong evidence.” Ace lifted one hand and gave her the finger. Shammy said: “Movement appears improved.” Ace gave her the finger too. Mai looked over. Ace raised the other hand. Mai smiled. “Efficient.” Reyes laughed. Actually laughed. Ace went still. Reyes noticed. “What?” Ace turned her head enough to look at her. “You laughed.” “No.” “You fucking did.” Kiro said: “Confirmed.” Shammy nodded. Mai said: “Clearly audible.” Reyes looked around the room. “I hate this place.” Ace smiled into the cushion. “No, you don’t.” Reyes’s hands resumed. “No.” Ace went quiet. That one word sat differently. Warm. Simple. True. Reyes worked farther along the recovering side. Ace breathed through it. Then Reyes found the last stubborn protective band. Ace’s entire vocabulary collapsed. “FuckfuckfuckFUCK—” “Breathe.” “I am going to fucking bite you.” “No.” “Why not?” “Professional boundary.” Ace turned her head. “You shot a cyberpsycho in the face for me.” “Yes.” “But biting violates professional ethics.” “Yes.” Ace considered. “That is fucking fascinating.” Reyes pressed. Ace swore. Shammy asked: “Would biting interfere with the treatment?” Reyes answered without looking up. “Yes.” Shammy nodded. “Then later.” Reyes stopped. Ace went completely still. Kiro covered her mouth. Mai closed her eyes. Ace slowly lifted her head. Shammy smiled. Reyes stared at her. Shammy looked innocent. “What?” Ace collapsed back onto the cushion laughing. This time nothing hurt. Nothing pulled. She laughed until she had to breathe deeply. Still nothing. Reyes’s expression changed. Ace felt it. Stopped laughing. “What?” “Do that again.” Ace stared. “Laugh?” “Deep breath.” Ace inhaled. Full. Held it. Exhaled. No pain. Reyes nodded. “Again.” Ace did. Nothing. Reyes moved one hand lightly to the injured side. “Rotate.” Ace rotated. Clean. “Other way.” Clean. “Reach.” Ace reached. “Again.” Clean. Reyes stepped back. Ace sat up. “Now say it.” “No.” “Reyes.” “No.” “Please?” Reyes stared at her. Ace widened her eyes. Reyes remained unmoved. Ace added: “I’ll suck your—” Mai said: “Ace.” Ace looked at her. “What?” Mai raised an eyebrow. Ace sighed. “Fine.” Reyes smiled. “Tomorrow.” Ace looked back. “What tomorrow?” Reyes picked up her jacket. “Gym.” The room quieted. Ace’s expression changed instantly. Not playful now. “You mean it?” “Yes.” “Spar?” “Assessment.” “With punching.” “Possibly.” Ace stood. “You’re going to fight me.” “Light.” Ace smiled. “Coward.” “Controlled.” “Coward.” Reyes put on her jacket. “If movement stays clean, we increase.” Ace’s smile widened. “How far?” “Until I see something I don’t like.” Ace looked at her. “And if you don’t?” Reyes paused. Then: “We find out.” Ace stood very still. That mattered more than she wanted to show. Reyes saw that too. Of course she did. Ace walked closer. No limp. No guarded side. No shortened stride. Stopped in front of her. “You really think I’m that close?” Reyes looked down at her. “Yes.” Ace smiled. Small this time. “Okay.” Reyes nodded. “Tomorrow.” Ace looked toward the others. Kiro was smiling. Shammy was smiling. Mai was watching Ace with quiet warmth. Ace looked back at Reyes. “Your gym?” “Yes.” “You know a gym?” Reyes stared. Ace grinned. “Sorry. Stupid question.” “Yes.” “Do they have height restrictions?” Reyes looked her up and down. “Probably.” Ace’s mouth opened. Kiro folded over laughing. Mai covered her face. Shammy said: “That was good.” Ace pointed at Reyes. “You are fucking dead tomorrow.” Reyes opened the door. “That’s the idea.” She stepped through. Ace called after her: “GOOD GIRL.” Reyes’s hand appeared around the edge of the doorway. Middle finger raised. Then the door closed. Ace stared at it. Smiling. Mai came beside her. Her fingers settled briefly at the back of Ace’s neck below the Triad collar. Ace leaned into the familiar contact without looking away from the closed door. “You know she is going to make you work for it.” Ace looked up. “I know.” “You cannot bluff her.” “I know.” “She knows exactly what your movement looks like when you are protecting something.” Ace’s smile softened. “I know.” Mai watched her. Ace looked at the closed door. Six days ago, Reyes had watched her body hit concrete. Had seen one wrong movement. One failure in timing. Then had spent every day since learning every tiny way Ace’s body tried to hide what that impact had done. Tomorrow Reyes would stop helping her move. Tomorrow she would try to hit her. Ace smiled. “Good.” Mai looked at her. Ace rolled both shoulders. Easy. Clean. Ready enough to find out. “About fucking time.” --- # CHAPTER 21 — FINALLY Reyes’s gym was exactly the kind of place Ace expected Reyes to know. Which meant it looked like nobody had spent money on anything that didn’t need to survive being hit. Old mats. Heavy bags with repairs over repairs. Free weights. A narrow ring. No corporate branding. No decorative lighting. No wall-sized motivational slogans telling anyone to become their best self. Ace looked around. “Romantic.” Reyes dropped her bag beside the ring. “No.” “It has ambiance.” “It has floor drains.” Ace smiled. “See?” Mai came in behind her. Shammy followed. Kiro last. Ace turned. Stopped. Looked at all three of them. “Oh, fuck off.” Kiro blinked. “What?” “You’re staying.” “Yes.” “This was supposed to be intimate.” Reyes started wrapping her hands. “It is.” Kiro made a noise. Mai looked at her. Kiro immediately looked somewhere else. Ace pointed. “There.” Mai said: “No.” “I didn’t even say anything.” “You were going to.” “I was going to say she has excellent taste.” Reyes looked at Ace. “No.” Ace grinned. “See? She knows me.” Shammy looked around the gym. “This room smells like old sweat.” Reyes nodded. “Yes.” “And disinfectant.” “Yes.” “And blood.” Reyes looked at one corner. “Probably.” Ace clasped both hands in front of herself. “I love it here.” Reyes pointed toward the mat. “Warm up.” Ace’s smile sharpened. There it was. Not sit. Not breathe. Not turn. Not let me check. Warm up. Ace stepped onto the mat. Started moving. Easy first. Shoulders. Hips. Ankles. Light footwork. Rotation. Reyes watched. Not staring at the injured side. Watching everything. Ace knew the difference now. Mai leaned against the wall. Kiro sat on a bench. Shammy remained standing. Nobody talked. Ace noticed that too. She bounced lightly on the balls of her feet. Shifted left. Right. Changed level. Turned through the torso. Nothing pulled. Nothing caught. No tiny warning from the side. Reyes said: “Again.” Ace rotated. “Faster.” Ace did. “Other side.” Clean. Reyes walked toward her. “Pain?” “Zero.” “Actual zero?” Ace looked offended. “Yes.” “Good.” Ace smiled. “Say it.” “No.” Ace’s smile widened. “Coward.” Reyes stepped onto the mat. “No blades.” Ace blinked. “What?” “No blades.” “I know.” “You looked toward your bag.” “I was checking if it was still there.” “You touched the left strap.” Ace stared. Reyes stared back. Kiro said quietly: “She really does know you.” Ace looked at her. “Do not encourage her.” Reyes raised her hands. Not quite a boxing guard. Not quite anything formal. Practical. Balanced. Ace looked at her. Then at the space between them. “You’re really going to hit me.” “If you let me.” Ace smiled. “That sounded filthy.” Reyes sighed. “Ready?” Ace’s expression changed. The joke stayed. But moved aside. “Yes.” Reyes stepped in. Slow. A testing jab. Ace slipped it. Clean. Reyes watched her feet. Second strike. Ace moved. Third. Different angle. Ace parried. No pain. No hitch. Reyes stepped back. Ace bounced once. “Well?” “Again.” Ace smiled. “Still coward.” Reyes came in faster. Ace moved. Not full speed. Not even close. But quicker. Reyes attacked high, then low. Ace turned away from the second line and felt the side stretch. Nothing. Reyes saw it. “Good.” Ace’s eyes flashed. “There it is.” “Don’t get excited.” “Too late.” Reyes changed rhythm. Ace immediately adapted. A feint. A real strike. Ace ducked. Pivoted. Came around behind Reyes. Tapped two fingers against her back. “Dead.” Reyes turned. “Cute.” Ace grinned. “Say good girl.” “No.” Kiro covered her mouth. Mai said: “Do not.” Kiro lowered her hand. “I didn’t—” “Yes, you did.” Shammy said: “She did.” Reyes looked at Ace. “Faster.” The room changed. Just a little. Ace felt it. This was no longer mobility work. Reyes wasn’t checking whether Ace could move. She was checking what happened when Ace had to decide. Ace settled. “Okay.” Reyes attacked. Real speed now. Not full. Enough. Ace slipped outside. Reyes followed. Ace turned through the recovering side. Perfect. Reyes closed distance. Ace redirected. Reyes caught one wrist. Ace rolled through it. No guarding. No shortcut. No cheating around the side. Reyes released. Backed away. Ace smiled. Breathing harder now. Still easy. “Again.” Reyes nodded. They went again. This time Reyes changed the entry. Ace read it. Reyes changed halfway through. Ace still read it. They moved across the mat. Nothing theatrical. No giant exchanges. No show. Reyes tested. Ace answered. Reyes increased. Ace matched. At the wall, Ace shifted off-line and lightly kicked Reyes’s thigh. Reyes looked down. Ace smiled sweetly. “Clinical assessment.” Reyes looked at her. “Again.” Ace laughed. “Fuck, I missed this.” That made Reyes pause. Only a fraction. Ace saw it. So did Mai. Reyes raised her hands. “Again.” Ace smiled. They moved. Harder now. Reyes made Ace turn. Made her reach. Forced lateral movement. Forced quick recovery. Forced sudden changes of direction. Everything that had been wrong six days ago. Ace gave her nothing. No shortened rotation. No raised shoulder. No protective hand. No hesitation before extending. Reyes drove her backward. Ace changed level and escaped beneath her arm. Kiro leaned forward. Shammy’s attention sharpened. Mai didn’t move at all. Reyes attacked again. Ace blocked. Countered. Reyes caught it. Ace laughed. “Good?” “Better.” Ace looked scandalized. “Better?” “Yes.” “I survived cyberpsychos for this?” “Yes.” “Fuck you.” “Later.” Silence. Kiro’s head turned. Slowly. Reyes realized. Ace realized Reyes realized. Ace’s grin became unbearable. Mai closed her eyes. “No.” Shammy said: “You said it again.” Reyes pointed at Ace without looking away from Kiro. “Her fault.” Ace put both hands on her hips. “How?” “You started it.” “I started nothing.” Kiro said: “Strong evidence otherwise.” Ace turned toward her. “You’re enjoying this too much.” Kiro smiled. “Maybe.” Mai opened her eyes. “No.” Kiro looked at her. “You cannot keep saying that forever.” Mai’s expression stayed perfectly calm. “Yes, I can.” Ace started laughing. Reyes moved. Ace reacted instantly. The strike came from her blind side. Ace twisted. Slipped. Countered. Stopped her fist a centimeter from Reyes’s ribs. Both froze. Ace’s smile faded. Reyes looked down at the fist. Then at Ace. Ace slowly lowered her hand. “You sneaky bitch.” “Yes.” “You used Kiro.” “Yes.” Kiro looked delighted. “I contributed.” Mai said: “No.” Kiro threw both hands up. “Oh, come on.” Reyes watched Ace. Not the joke. The movement. “That was clean.” Ace’s expression shifted again. “Yeah?” “Yes.” The room settled. For a second there was no banter. Ace stood in the middle of the mat. Breathing. Balanced. Nothing guarded. Nothing hidden. Reyes looked at her. Then said: “Full.” Ace stared. Mai straightened slightly. Kiro stopped smiling. Shammy’s attention narrowed. Ace looked at Reyes. “You sure?” “Yes.” That mattered. Reyes had spent six days saying no. No combat. No full rotation. No unnecessary load. No pretending better meant done. Now: Yes. Ace rolled her shoulders. Once. Then smiled. “Okay.” Reyes lifted her hands. Ace settled. Different now. No bouncing. No teasing. No exaggerated readiness. Still. Reyes watched. Ace watched back. Then Reyes moved. Fast. Ace moved with her. The first exchange snapped through the room. Reyes attacked high. Ace slipped. Low. Ace turned. Reyes stepped across her escape. Ace changed direction. Reyes followed. The second exchange was faster. Ace no longer thought about her side. That was the difference. Not that it didn’t hurt. It didn’t. Not that she trusted it. She had stopped thinking about trusting it. Her body simply moved. Reyes drove in. Ace pivoted. Reyes caught the shoulder. Ace rolled through. No protection. No compensation. Reyes attacked again. Ace was already gone. Kiro breathed: “Fuck.” Shammy smiled. Mai did not. But her eyes warmed. Reyes increased again. So did Ace. Now there was no recovery assessment left in it. There was only movement. Reyes threw a real combination. Ace slipped the first. Redirected the second. Stepped outside the third. Reyes turned quickly and caught Ace with the edge of a forearm against the shoulder. Ace laughed. “Got me.” “Barely.” “Counts.” “Yes.” Ace came in. Reyes defended. Ace changed. Reyes read it. Ace changed again. Reyes still read it. For three seconds they matched. Then Ace disappeared from the pattern. Not literally. Just completely. One step that looked like another step until it wasn’t. A drop in level. A pivot. Reyes turned— —and Ace was behind her. Two fingers touched the center of Reyes’s back. “Dead.” Reyes went still. Ace withdrew her hand. Waited. Reyes turned slowly. Looked at her. Ace’s smile was cautious now. Almost hopeful. “Well?” Reyes looked at the way Ace stood. Feet natural. Shoulders level. Breathing hard but clean. No guarded side. No compensation. No delay. Nothing. Reyes smiled. Small. “Ah.” Ace’s eyes narrowed. Reyes raised her hands again. “Finally got your speed back.” Ace stopped. Just for a heartbeat. Then smiled. Not the filthy grin. Not the challenge. Something quieter. “Yeah?” Reyes nodded. “Yeah.” Ace looked toward Mai. Mai smiled. Shammy smiled. Kiro lifted both thumbs. Ace turned back. Reyes was already moving. Ace laughed. The strike came fast. Clean. Exactly where Reyes expected Ace’s head to be. Ace wasn’t there. Reyes’s fist cut empty air. Ace slipped underneath, turned through the once-injured side without even knowing she had done it, and came up laughing behind Reyes. Reyes turned. Ace raised her hands. “Again.” Reyes smiled. “Good girl.” Ace froze. Kiro made a strangled noise. Mai covered her face. Shammy said: “That was intentional.” Reyes’s smile widened. Ace stared at her. Then pointed. “You absolute fucking bitch.” “Yes.” Ace settled back into stance. Grinning now. Completely. Reyes raised her hands. Ace moved first. And this time, nothing in her body remembered being hurt.