Changeling Part 5 to 11 (RR 3.1 to 3.9), (Patreon)

AN: Cleaned a little and gathered for your viewing convenience.

3.1

“Mmmflgr?”

“It’s 9AM. Why are you still sleeping?” the modified voice asked in the burner.

Nestra almost asked if it was Gorge before — miracle of miracles — her brain caught up with her mouth for once.

“I was busy. What’s up?”

“What do you mean, what’s up? You asked me to call you.”

“Ah yes. Wasn’t sure if using keywords in a text was a good idea or not.”

“Our conversations are encrypted. Only Central could decode it and then we’d be fucked anyway. What do you have?”

“An artifact.”

Nestra heard a noise, something like a clatter. It took two seconds for Gorge to reply.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes. D-class, obviously. A spear. Looks cursed.”

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“Yes for fuck’s sake I’m absolutely sure.”

“It’s just… Wow. Look, selling lizard skins to students was a thing but an artifact? This is big league stuff.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“No. I know a guy. And you shouldn’t help. Can’t risk it.”

Nestra sat up on her bed and called to the demon skin. Yesterday, she’d experimented a bit with it. It turned out that the skin was a sort of symbiote who, if she understood it correctly, fed off her body heat and a little bit of blood. It was barely smarter than the average dog and spent most of its time sleeping. She nudged it and received the mental equivalent of an annoyed groan but the symbiote complied. A tough substance covered her arms, looking like a nylon sleeve. She could thicken it a bit but for now, there was simply not enough of the creature to achieve more than a rather skimpy skin suit. The distraction gave her the courage to ask the question burning her mind right now. She wasn’t scared of Gorge. She just wanted to avoid the verbal shitstorm he could unleash if he felt offended.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you were kind of, you know, law-abiding…”

Nestra struggled to articulate her thought,

“You wanna know why I’m doing illegal shit?”

“Yeah. I mean fencing low grade crystals is a thing. An artifact…”

“Look, scale is not the thing here. At least not for me. If you steal an egg or a fucking car, you’re still a thief to me. It’s about who we’re stealing from. And here, we’re stealing from corpos. Did I ever tell you what I thought about corpos?”

“In lengthy, rude detail.”

“Well then I’ll have you know that within limits, I’m happy fucking them over even if it means pairing up with a highborn reject like you. And before you foam at the mouth, you’re not so bad for a silver spoon cunt.”

“Nice compliment. Much obliged.”

“I’ll take ownership of the goods then.”

The call cut and Nestra used this opportunity to measure herself, which required her some creativity because her measuring apps glitched when looking at her. In the end, she flash ordered some measuring ribbons from a fancy tailor supplier then sent the results to Gorge. Her demon form was now 1.86 meters tall, eight centimeters more than her mortal form. That meant she was still growing quickly! Nestra celebrated by stuffing her face with the remaining popcorn and mana fruits before ordering a large salad. After polishing off enough food for a family of four, she was ready to face the day.

First, some more training.

***

The first step was to test her new ability. Wielding her sword, she simply called to it. It was just like flexing a muscle she never knew she had. A link formed in her mind between the warehouse’s training dummy and the tip of her sword. A single strike and the two met, her blade finding its target with uncanny precision. Even without coating, the dummy was heavily damaged. It was not a magical magnet effect so much as her mind working overtime to make sure her muscles would follow. Although dangerous, the ability was physically and mentally tiring. She would have to be careful. Next was another necessary exercise.

In the past week, Nestra had obtained more abilities and benefits than most raiders did over six months. Her rate of progress was astonishing, a probable sign it wouldn’t last. It also brought with it a series of problems. Mostly, she’d outgrown her technique.

Nestra had spent over a decade refining her swordsmanship until she was certain she was at the top of the baseline world, but now she was no longer a baseline, and so her new physique made her movements a little more awkward. There were times when she believed she could hit much harder, or faster, than her muscle memory allowed. The most defining issue was movement and positioning.

While before, she was confident in how long it would take her to reach a point, now between her speed and the traversal ability brought by momentum, her understanding of the battlefield was no longer valid. The first test was to understand exactly how momentum worked. She practiced in her warehouse, simply moving from one side to another. The first discovery should have been obvious, in retrospect. The distance traveled depended on her speed when casting, so the faster she was running, the farther she would go. An hour of practice later, she was confident she could at least land where she meant to land in a straight line.

As for combining both abilities, her head hurt before she could even start.

She decided to pause the ability training because she was getting tired. She went through her forms instead and stopped in the early afternoon. There would be another raid tonight. She couldn’t afford to exhaust herself.

While waiting for her lunch, Nestra checked the news. There were a few promo pieces of Fifteen in Gidung’s media arm, mostly stating that Gidung would live true to its commitment to be a pillar of mankind etc etc with a shining image of the dashing Hong Wang at the forefront. Reading between the lines, they were basically saying they would build new heavy industry assembly lines they couldn’t easily set up inside of their arcology. She suspected pollution, weight, or heat might be a factor. Gidung promised to ‘develop the district and form its population’ which probably meant a few hundred town-required ‘jobs’, mostly janitors and security screen watchers. Space was at a premium in Threshold so all in all, that would be a great operation for the asshole who’d come up with the plan. Nestra’s jaw clenched when she finished the article. They still didn’t say which specific branch would benefit most from the new territory. Knowing that would help her narrow down who was behind it all. She was about to turn off her visor when a headline caught her attention.

“Shinran is back in town…”

Nestra wasn’t sure where the A-class healer disappeared off to when he wasn’t healing incurable diseases. Maybe raiding. The interesting point was the timing.

The raider’s vivid blue eyes seemed to stare at her from the screen with a disturbing intensity. Her benefactor had said they would be busy.

Could they be Shinran?

Or were they afraid of that powerful raider?

There was no real way for her to know, at least not yet. Even her family’s influence wouldn’t be enough to get her close to him right now. He was that famous. And busy. Only the greatest and the neediest could hope to fit in his busy schedule.

As the afternoon progressed, Nestra decided to take it easy with stretching and online de-escalation courses. It was then she received a message. It was from an unknown number.

“Hello, Miss Palladian. I am sorry for bothering you. I am Shinoda Yuuji, your future partner. I was hoping that we could meet before we start working together, if it pleases you. Please let me know if you are available.”

He was being very polite despite being her elder. Nestra sent back a reply, making sure to use the appropriate honorifics. It was important to give a first great impression so she could later ruin it with quips and aggressive comebacks and still keep a modicum of goodwill. She called it the Nestra special. Once done, she prepared for the night with her usual twilight nap.

***

This time, the portal was in an actual indoor swimming pool hidden away at the back of a bar closed for renovation. Nestra easily made her way inside by breaking an upper window, dodging a camera as she went. There were a couple of movement detectors but those didn’t seem to pick up her presence. The pool was still full and clear when she arrived, the portal hovering at the back next to a pair of folding chairs. She breathed in the pleasant radiance before setting up. She would only wear the skin this time, no armor. Maybe the sale of the spear would allow her to purchase a shield, at least.

There was something inherently satisfying about her nightly routine. Explore an exotic location. Encounter new fauna. Kill it, then cook it. Oh, loot and sell some stuff, she guessed. It was simple, it was primal, and it was the sort of no nonsense rhythm she really needed in her life right now. For this reason, she fully expected something to go dokkaebi-shaped in the near future. For now, she would keep enjoying her life for the first time in almost a decade. Live rather than survive. She didn’t need grand plans besides getting stronger and finding out who’d condemned her squad to death. How far she could progress would also dictate what she could eventually do anyway. Nestra was smart enough to realize her limits and her limits were that she wasn’t too smart and she was socially an idiot. That really limited the extent of what she could do.

So yeah, just go with the flow for now.

With a happy sigh, she pushed her way through the portal.

***

The sky was low, cloudy, and the acid green of a fresh lime. It smelled strongly of brine and water. A thick mist covered everything, limiting a visibility provided by whatever little light pierced through. Strange pillars as broad as redwood trunks surged from the rocky ground to incredible heights. Mossy growth turned them into the grasping tendrils of some massive being, frozen in time as it reached for the heavens. Some may have found the vista oppressive but Nestra was loving it. This place was new and fresh and she was getting curious as to how the hell it all worked. The temperature was nice. Her naked feet sank into mud, a feeling that might have scared her normally, but it also felt very nice having the soft sand under her soles. The lukewarm water was just pleasant and without socks to get soaked, it just felt like bathing her feet after a day of walking. She stretched her toes, then arched her back. Falling droplets of water provided a pleasant background chime but otherwise, it was rather quiet here. She also didn’t have to worry about pesky raiders disturbing her rightful enjoyment of their unfairly monopolized portal so she could just take her time.

Nestra walked around the pillars and basically explored the place. She was careful not to touch the moss or the strange fluorescent yellow flowers letting out a soft glow, just in case. Eventually, she reached the limits of the portal world when the next passage between two pillars could not be crossed no matter how many steps she took. Some exploration showed it was shaped as a tube, a normal setup for a portal world this size.

Nestra kept walking until she came across a tree with strange fruits. Portal worlds often had hidden goodies. They were just seldom worth the effort. For example, one might mine an underground portal and find ore but the required efforts meant that it was more profitable finding another one. She took the unknown fruits but didn’t sample them. Couldn’t risk it. Her steps led her back to the main path continuing alongside a deeper stretch of water. She glared at the pond. Ponds were never safe.

“Come on, you might as well —”

Something surged out of the waters. Nestra dodged to the side, avoiding a blue bubble. It exploded with a loud pop. Mana-compressed water. Her foe dove back into the water.

Nestra slowly blinked.

She had absolutely no idea what that thing was. It looked like a translucent, beagle-sized crustacean with diaphanous wings. A quick search confirmed that the database had nothing similar.

“I name thee: Shrimpus Floatus Wateribus.”

Another creature — or perhaps it was the same — rose from the lake, flapping about with grace. Multiple black eyes glared at her while Nestra walked to the side. Suddenly, it cast a spell and Nestra was forced to sidestep it.

The creature floated around while Nestra glared. It was a stalemate. Or was it? She moved backward and dodged a third projectile. Those were pretty slow. Nestra backpedalled a little until the creature approached the edge of the pond… and then she used momentum to close the distance and slashed.

The creature dematerialized, teleporting a few paces away. It cast again which forced Nestra to collapse on herself. She watched the bubble pass overhead on a background of clouds. When she looked up, the creature was hovering over the pond just out of reach of her sword.

“Ok you are Shrimpus Floatus Annoyingis.”

The newly dubbed beast dove back into the pond. Nestra jumped to where it was gone, then she placed her blade in the water and pushed the button.

Normally, this was considered a bad move according to her training but how bad could it get?

Three of the shrimps rose from the pond, shaking from the jolt they’d received.

Ok so maybe it wasn’t the best idea, however the Stalk of the Scorn Crescent whispered what to do next. She used momentum to rush to a shrimp before it could recover then sliced using coated mana. The blade decapitated the beast which fell at the edge of the water. She dodged two bubbles in quick succession as she sprinted towards the next. It teleported to her side as it cast. So Nestra used the precision ability.

She could see where it would reappear.

Her muscles screamed as she twisted on herself, catching the beast with the extreme tip of the blade. It severed enough back nerves that the beast fell, wings shivering and spell dispersing. The last creature hovered at the back of the pond with furious motions, sending bubbles as fast at it could. It dove back in and returned to shoot more which led Nestra to think that maybe they had some sort of reserve that refilled when they were immersed. In any case, she wasn’t waddling through all that muck just to get at the last one.

“You know what? Fuck you.”

Nestra drew her gun and used accuracy again. It worked. The beast practically exploded mid-air.

Power infused her and she felt energy seep into her chest. A sensation like quenched thirst soon made her shiver in pleasure. The shrimps didn’t reinforce any physical attributes. They were feeding her mana, and a lot of it.

Giddy, Nestra carefully used her sword to drag the two mostly intact shrimp to the edge of the pond. D-Class worlds seldom had intense environmental hazards but she didn’t want to step on an urchin or something like that. Although, urchins were delicious as well. With the two shrimp carcasses firmly secured, she was ready to depart with the secret hope she could rename the creatures Shrimpus Floatus Deliciosa.

Maybe they were an undiscovered species. The odds were low but… maybe she could get a lot of money selling new specimens. The problem was that this would come with a lot of questions. No, it was much safer to eat them.

Nestra wiped the drool off her face. There were definitely similar species she’d have to sample. Garlic and lemon for this one? A gumbo? Teriyaki?

“Ok, focus.”

Nestra kept going, encountering another smaller pond. When a shrimp appeared, she used momentum to jump over the water, catching it off guard. Sadly, she couldn’t recover that one without going into the water.

Weaker D-rank worlds were often like that, linear with a first major battle then a few skirmishes until a final conflict. Nestra took her time to explore more and found the first ‘loot’, red stones that burnt to the touch. Ever-fires. Those were really prized outside the walls as an endless source of heating but inside of the city, they were made redundant by multiple fusion reactors. She still pocketed one for later use.

The next pond saw another shrimp cut mid-air, but when it fell, the body was swallowed by some sort of salamander. The beast refused to resurface, even with electricity, and Nestra couldn’t be arsed trying to lure it out so she let it be.

Less shrimp for poor Nestra.

“I don’t deserve this. I killed the shrimp. Why am I being robbed of my justly deserved bounty by some bottom feeder that doesn’t even really need it?” she asked the green heavens, but they ignored her. The world was cold and uncaring and shrimpless.

Fucking thief.

Maybe the salamander could be provoked…

“No, enough time wasted. I have to pick my battles.”

Nestra walked some more, finding one last pond and one more crustacean to add to her growing collection.

It was clearly a world where range fighters would shine. It would also test their ability to shoot twice in quick succession which most raiders were trained to do anyway. Once more, Nestra wondered how she would compare with D-class raiders. She was not eager to try, however. She was still getting used to everything, including her abilities. She was having a good run. She had no reason to rush it right now.

Nestra stopped, her feet sinking in the muck.

She was just considering murder for the sake of progress. Well, not really murder. There were plenty of gleams who deserved to die but didn’t because they were covered by their guilds. Immorality and impunity led to some pretty fucked up situations she’d heard of while in the force.

Maybe…

But no, at least not now. There was a step between selling illegally acquired artifacts and killing for power and she was unwilling to take it. Where would it stop? It’s not because she looked like a demon she had to act like one.

Nestra shook her head. A portal world was no place for introspection. The lack of difficulty was making her complacent.

As she went on, the ground grew drier and rose at a gentle slope. The pillars grew wider and sparser. Larger growths formed tufts of dense vegetation between the rocks. The place was strangely deserted. A part of her felt like there should be life among the tall ferns but portal ecosystems were often stunted. Vines clung to the pillars, producing huge leaves that reduced the available light. A yellow bolt streaked through the cloud cover, followed by the powerful roar of thunder.

Something shifted in the distance.

Nestra frowned. There was a clearing ahead with the usual altar. This was it.

She looked up again.

Something was stalking her, she was sure of it. She walked to the center of the open ground with slow steps, making sure to keep her guard up.

It happened very fast.

Another bolt flashed over her. In that background of light was a dark shape falling towards her. She used momentum to get out of the way and an instant later, her foe dug four talons where she used to be.

Another flash. Humanoid shape, dark beady eyes. No neck. Long arms ending in twin curved talons. Short white fur. Powerful, lean muscles. It jumped and swung at her as she anticipated. She dove and struck, coated blade biting into a biceps. Despite the coating, it failed to sever the arm. The power sent her reeling but the creature’s screeches gave her a moment. Fast, almost too fast for her. Very wide attacks. Lots of power but telegraphed motions. It charged again.

Nestra moved up then stepped back, avoiding the tip of claws trying to gut her by a few fingers. The next strike came as she predicted. The beast’s attacks were relentless.

Using precision, she attacked the claws. Her blade slid between the talons and hit the bone of its hand, eliciting a crack but the tips still hit her side, the upper rib cage.

“Oof.”

Winded. Lots of power. Shouldn't try to block head on. Deflect instead. Dance better.

The beast screamed again, revealing a wide maw covered in layers of inward-curving fangs. The sound was disturbingly close to human. She used momentum to close in which surprised it. Her blade slid against the thick fur of its chest and dug deep, much deeper than the cut on its arm. Red blood flowed and the creature did as expected. It kept swinging.

Nestra stepped into and under the attack, hitting the knee which cracked ominously. She jumped over the second attack and hit the shoulder, discharging electricity this time. The beast roared and did something she didn’t expect. It grabbed her with its two arms.

Trapped. Two furry arms around her. No time to dodge. She lifted her blade above her head just as the appendages closed around her to crush her spine. She grabbed the blade with one hand, the handle with the other.

Precision guided her strike.

“Rah!”

Her sword’s edge slammed into the beast’s left eye, then she moved it to the side. The gray, coated surface sliced cleanly. Blood and vitreous spilled over Nestra. The creature dropped her, grabbing its wounded face. Nestra landed nimble on her feet and used one last coated attack for an upward strike.

This one was devastating and she finally understood what was going on. The simian being used mana like humans did, reinforcing its body. It was either running out of it or losing focus. In any case, the beast was wounded and covered in blood. It wailed and jumped away.

Nestra knew it would attack again because portal monsters only regrouped for long enough to resume their attack. She wasn’t going to give it satisfaction. Using momentum, she jumped after it just as it reached the nearest pillar.

She felt the flesh give in under her. The sword pinned the simian creature against it like a butterfly, blade easily stabbing into flesh and the stone beneath it. More blood gushed from every wound. The creature shuddered one last time, then it collapsed, only kept upright by the blade slammed into its heart.

Nestra shivered when power rushed into her, confirming her victory. Strength. A lot of it. Maybe something more.

Good.

Nestra quickly checked her only wound to find it sealed close. Even her ‘skin’ looked unharmed though she felt a little tender. It was as if she’d never been hurt.

Very useful, that.

It had been a great battle, really fun. And now for the loot. Nestra went over her database and found absolutely nothing, which didn’t mean much. If Gorge gave it to her for free then it was probably kind of shit, so there was still a high chance this type of world was well known and the guild that had produced the compendium just never had access to it.

Fortunately, there were always safe bets when it came to creatures like that. The first was talons. Those could be used in special gauntlets designed to help subclasses of brawlers punch people in the face harder. The second was the skin which she did her best to remove correctly and failed miserably. The third were special organs.

Nestra basically emptied the creature only to find disappointingly mundane organs. Well, they were different of course but none felt like they were soaked with mana or shining or of a vivid color. It also smelled atrocious even though she was sure she hadn’t pierced an intestine. Vile thing. She still decided to cut a haunch, just in case. Primates were a little… difficult to eat considering they looked a little human but this one was too weird to hurt her sensibilities. Thus loaded with food, Nestra approached the altar. On top of two crystals, she also found a bar of some sort of metal that was dark and cold to the touch. After that, she moved back.

Threshold’s abandoned swimming pool welcomed her back. There were no packages this time, just as the benefactor had warned her. It felt a little disappointing but she’d live.

***

Nestra shoved the garlic soy sauce strand of shrimp into her molars and bit down. Those were not molars anymore, of course, since all her teeth were serrated. The shrimps had turned out to have a real name and it was much less cool than Shrimpus Floatus Deliciosa so fuck those scientists. She frowned when her phone vibrated. It was Gorge.

“Sold your spear, your share’s 63k.”

Nestra shuffled in her couch.

That was an enormous sum for her. It was also pocket change for a good raider.

“It was worth three times that amount but I had to compromise for safety.”

“What did it do?” Nestra typed back.

“Some sort of berzerker effect. Can’t say more than that and can’t tell you who bought it. I’ll buy the crystals at the usual rate and I’ll auction the new goodies. You want the chit?”

Nestra thought about it. Sitting on money could be useful. Spending that money was better. The problem was that she had no idea what she should get in terms of gear. She had potions, a ranged option, and a nice sword. Armor sets would only fit her for a little while. Survival gear wouldn’t become relevant for a while. What should she get?

Wait, she knew exactly what she could get.

“Send me 30k in a chit and for the rest, I want food. Specifically, mana food.”

There was a delay in the answer this time.

“Food? Are you serious?”

“Enclave goodies, fishery surplus, corpo special reserves. Whatever.”

There was a longer pause and this time, Nestra enjoyed a small miracle. After almost half a shrimp (and some rice), she had achieved a state of zen contentment.

She was full.

“Holy Riel I never thought the day would come again.”

A quick check revealed she’d grown by another centimeter. It was likely she was heavier as well but her scale had some issue when she stepped on it in demon form. Not that she cared. Just had to make sure her stairs wouldn’t collapse by just stepping on them.

A girl was growing so a girl had to eat.

“I can get you food but it’s ‘fallen off the truck’ as one of my cousins used to say. That means they ain’t cheap. I can get you up to four dozen fresh oysters for two hundred credits each, ten mana squid tentacles for a hundred and twenty apiece, wagyu at six hundred a slide…”

The list went on.

Nestra’s smile bloomed. She had the perfect answer.

“Yes.”

“Yes to what?”

“Yes.”

“You want everything?”

“Yes. Spread over the next three days. Do you have any veggies with that?”

“Veggies are cheap and even us dregs can buy them, why do you need me?”

“Because I’m going to order a lot and I’d love a discount.”

“Fine.”

***

The puddle was a pond.

In the dream space, Nestra watched the shimmering surface with exultation. Mana was the power to make reality… flexible. It came with the gates. It infused everything. It changed wildlife and humans alike. It condemned those who could wield it to the crucible and those who could not to a reality of walls and the hanging doom of the hapless prey. Electric mana was better against single targets at lower levels, as well as self-buff. There was plenty for her to learn and now she had the tools to use it. She just needed some practice.

As expected, the strength sphere had increased in size again, and was for now the largest one around. The simian being had also yielded a bit of physical resistance, not much but enough to make a difference. She was getting stronger. And hungrier. Things were looking up. Satisfied, she returned to sleep.

***

Part 6

3.2

For their first meeting, Shinoda picked a classical izakaya nestled between two small office buildings deeper in the city. There was no place to park around so Nestra was forced to walk quite a bit through narrow streets dominated by electric bikes and the occasional heavy delivery drone. The Japanese influence in the district bled through the old-school neon signs advertising products from the homeland. The izakaya itself welcomed her with the smell of grilled meat and warm amber colors reflected in the ubiquitous wooden panels. At that time, the small restaurant was almost deserted, which made spotting Shinoda easy enough. He was currently sitting at the counter facing the kitchen, chopsticks picking at sliced cucumber.

Shinoda was a baseline, possibly in his fifties, which he was wearing quite well. Graying hair tempered the harsh lines of a face that spoke of an ascetic lifestyle, but there was something wrong with him, a certain gauntness of the cheeks and paleness evoking deeper trouble. He wore an antiquated trench coat over wide shoulders like some archaic movie detective. The stooped posture conflicted with the steely intensity with which he was reading a document on his datasheet. Truly a study in contrasts.

Nestra came to stand by his side and he turned with the smooth timing of someone who’d seen her come in. She bowed very slightly, which he returned. He gave her a welcoming smile.

“Ah, you must be Palladian-san. Please, sit, sit. Be welcome. Have you eaten yet? I recommend the tonkotsu ramen.”

Shinoda’s voice was deep and warm. Caring. A little at odds with his appearance.

“Yes. I’ll have that and some gizzard.”

Nestra ordered and survived through the obligatory ‘hajimemashite’ introductions, the small talk, and the careful questions about her qualifications. Shinoda was a soft-spoken man who interjected ‘ne’ and other Japanese particles in his English. His accent was quite strong, right to stressing the last syllable in a sentence.

“So you were a MaxSec officer. Support?”

“Close Quarter specialist.”

“Hontou desu ka? Really? Ah, forgive me. I did not mean to question your skills.”

“No harm done. Most people are surprised. How about you? Your file was rather light with details.”

“Hah,” he replied with a smile. “I started in vice and made it to captain, then I joined the juvenile criminality department in district thirty-eight. I am technically retired but Officer Kim asked me to rejoin. As for why I came, I do not wish to bother you with too many details.”

Polite translation: yes I admit I have a history. No, I won’t tell you. Mind your own biz. Fine by Nestra.

“May I ask why you chose to accept this position?” he asked.

“Several MaxSec people died there and I don’t want their sacrifice to be for nothing. If I can help people while I do so, then so much the better.”

Shinoda’s expression was unreadable.

“Yes. Regarding the people we are meant to protect... I assume you have gone over the preparatory file?”

Nestra blinked.

“You… have not,” Shinoda said in a voice that carried wounded disappointment.

“I haven’t received anything yet. I’ll ask Kim. Maybe she forgot?”

“Oh? I see, I see. Then have you done any preparations?”

“I’ve almost completed the basic online course on de-escalation. I’ve also gathered non-lethal armament and some scouting capabilities.”

It was difficult to read Shinoda but Nestra was feeling judged. The fact he was twice her age didn’t help.

“Yes. The de-escalation course is an excellent initiative. Although, your profile is, how to say…”

“Not suitable for the mission?”

“Ah, that is not what I mean. My deep apologies, Palladian-san. You have clearly prepared.”

“To be honest, Kim said my job was to back you up and keep you alive, nothing more.”

Shinoda sustained her gaze and the facade of pleasant courtesy cracked to reveal the calculating mind underneath.

“Ah, Kim-san… I suppose it is best said now. I, right now, only retain around 40% of my lung’s capabilities.”

That… wasn’t enough for anything strenuous. Not at all. And yet he was here.

“Ah, and…”

“I cannot afford replacement lungs.”

Silence hung between the two of them. Everyone could afford replacement lungs provided they agreed to serve their new corpo overlords and someone with Shinoda’s profile would be sought after by any private security company that aimed at being more than just hired goons. Someone who’d made captain could probably afford the upkeep off their own pockets as well. Once again, he was omitting quite a lot of stuff and once again, Nestra didn’t push because it would be a terrible faux pas.

“You will have to be our running legs. As for the ‘less-lethal’ weapons, I hope we can resolve most issues without them.”

“Sure,” Nestra said with a shrug.

They exchanged a glance which conveyed that Shinoda knew Nestra would draw on a fucker if she thought there would be a problem and that Nestra didn’t believe Shinoda could always calm things down.

“In any case, our mission is to, ah, the expression would be managing hearts and minds. Yes, that. We are to patrol a large hab block in Fifteen and maintain a presence, as well as assist in counter-insurgency measures.”

“Such as?”

“Gidung will install amenities so water and electricity are provided for free to anyone in the vicinity for a duration of one year, courtesy of the municipality. For supplies, eeeto ne, please look at this.”

Shinoda used his datasheet to show a rotation 3D view of their planned hunting grounds. Nestra followed his explanations while slurping her noodles. Basically, they would patrol and solve disputes over four large hab blocks centered around a central plaza that hosted a sort of low level trading hub, mostly a food market. A few warehouses would be repurposed by Gidung early in the operation.

“There’s gotta be at least two thousand people living there. No way two of us would be enough.”

“In truth, less than thirteen hundred. Many of the habs are empty or were converted into anything from workshops to greenhouses. Gidung will not interfere with their activities and there will be no taxation for a year. The city hopes to slowly convert the workforce to more legal activities. Also, our primary task is not policing. We are here to be seen and to listen. Additional security will be present when Gidung distributes supplies. A field hospital will also be built. We will have a pair of Gidung users on standby to assist in case of emergencies.”

“So we’re bait.”

“Yes. There is no doubt the local toughs will test us but the real issue is the gangers. Neither Gidung nor the city has the resources to send enough troops to secure more than a few hab blocks.”

That was bullshit. They were not willing to spare those resources. Nestra thought she should consider herself lucky that the entire district wasn’t methodically emptied and its inhabitants dispersed across poor districts. Because the city could do that and no one would stop them, especially with precious gleam time being wasted on low dregs. All those fight-capable gleams flying around were not instead raiding easy portals across the island for crystals and resources, a terrible cost of opportunity.

“... so they wish to lure them out of hiding. That is not something we can control, ne? If it happens, it happens. We will do our best to bring normalcy back to Fifteen and make sure no one ‘redirects’ the city’s efforts.”

“Fine by me. You do the talking.”

“And I am in your care for the running.”

***

Officer Kim had not forgotten Nestra’s file. She was merely finishing it by adding additional data. Shinoda could take a look at one report and get the gist of it but Nestra had MaxSec training which meant she knew seven different ways to snap someone’s wrist and couldn’t tell how to secure a crime scene except by the old saying: ‘don’t touch nuthin’. She was never meant to do field investigations, so Kim had someone create a more complete image. It was pretty much what Shinoda had explained with more data on where the workshops were, the VIPs, and the troublemakers and so on. The overachieving administrator also included a collection of mugshots to upload to her visor since some of the known gangers had escaped.

Kim gave her until the end of the week before her starting date which was considered ‘rushed as hell’ in the industry. Sitting on her couch while munching on a homemade mana banana (or bamana, if you will) sundae, Nestra considered her situation.

There was nothing she could do that would help with being a better cop, not on that timeline. Much better to follow Shinoda around to learn the ropes. What she could do, however, was prepare for trouble.

Now, she wasn’t really scared of dying because her mask was just that, a mask. If her human form were to be destroyed, she was pretty sure she would revert back to her true self. Maybe with some damage. Now that was obviously still a huge problem in itself, but fortunately, she had a solution.

While demon Nestra was growing like mushrooms on a pile of politicians’ promises, human Nestra remained conveniently same-sized. Nestra knew that because she’d checked her human condition with great care in case it degenerated without food or exercise, and it didn’t. That meant that she could invest in gear that would fit her for more than two weeks! And she could even do it legally by drawing from her end-of-contract bonus, which would nicely separate demon black market Nestra from human law enforcement Nestra. Perfect.

“Ok, let me see the best of the best!” She announced to herself as she sat comfortably with her visor, ready to prowl the internet for some juicy stuff.

“Ok I need to scale down my expectations,” she added exactly thirty seconds later.

It took three hours and quite a few cross-checks to find the good offer she wanted. It was fine for Nestra. Like finding a cheap deal on nice shoes. She settled for a small treasure she found on a lost page selling Wellington military surplus to security companies. Her perfect find was a scout armor made for baselines to survive in the New Zealand wilderness for extended periods of time. Wellington equipped workers and researchers with it and it had quite a few nice features. The armor offered decent ballistic and excellent blade protection. It also had a helmet that looked like a cowl on the upper back until activated, then it would snugly cover the head. Even better, the helmet would protect against flashbang effects and gas which was what Nestra was most concerned about. Like all Wellington goods, it sported the corp’s signature metal ink EMP shielding and minimum electronics to function. There were a few drawbacks like the weight but the most defining feature was the appearance. The model Nestra ordered just looked like an outdoorsy hiker set which would allow her to fit in more than riot armor. It even had cooling features! Nestra’s only regret was the relatively ugly pair of combat boots but she guessed it would be okay.

From Gorge, she ordered a few more gizmos like EMP charges and door breaching explosives she could reasonably explain having, then she was ready.

Protective gear: set. Drone surveillance: delivered by Stib and operational. Non-lethal weapons: holstered and ready. Extra-lethal weapons: hidden around where they would hopefully stay unused. The only things missing were her thermos and snacks which she packed eagerly.

***

Nestra was now ready except for the whole ‘completely unqualified for the job’ part. She left on Monday at 8:30AM with a fresh, renewed hatred for a schedule that messed with her weird sleep cycle. There was a message on her doorstep with new coordinates written.

“There better be Kero nuts this damn time!” she protested.

The drive to Fifteen was short and uneventful. She arrived at the newly rebuilt district precinct and passed through several thorough security checks. Shinoda was waiting for her by the coffee machine next to the huge meeting room where the weekly briefings would take place. Nestra usually enjoyed those because they were relaxing. She could drink her java in peace and pretend to pay attention, except the part where whoever spoke reminded everyone to be mindful of the social realities and then glared daggers at her specifically. The gathered officers were not what she was used to here. MaxSec had been a gathering of lean, fit men with an attitude, at least at first. Here, the group was eclectic as could be. There were a couple of quirkies and quite a few augs, some old men with wrinkled scowls, some fat men with keen eyes, young women with guarded expressions, and young guys with hungry smiles. There were Malays, Pinays, Viets and Anglos, Koreans, Japanese and Chinese and even a lone black guy who looked old enough to have been here since the city’s inception.

Nestra wasn’t sure where the city had found all those people but they were clearly not picked at random, because if there was one thing they all displayed besides covert curiosity, it was distrust. Everyone stuck in pairs and looked around like they were five seconds away from a massive shootout. Paranoia was the name of the game. It was the perfect crowd for this place and Nestra was now even more convinced Kim knew what she was doing.

The briefing was given by a prim lady in a uniform so flawless it looked drawn on. She was pretty much a Kim clone to the point Nestra wondered if they shared the same plastic surgeon. There was a mold to upper middle management and she fit to the last sheen of perfectly combed hair, a sign Threshold was sending their best. There were no pieces of information to be gleaned here that weren't already in her file, so she only listened with one ear. There would be events throughout the weeks, mostly convoys of humanitarian aids and mobile hospitals installations. The rest were reminders to behave and keep their eyes open which no one here really needed. After they were done, her visor pinged to show a message from Aunt Claire.

“Hey there Nes! The celebration is set for Saturday, so make sure you complete your revenge so you can ditch the pigs and come meet the family! ACAB babyyyyyyyy ;P”

Nestra flinched at the various emotes and gifs that followed. Aunt Clecle was just trying to get a rise out of her.

“Like that’s going to happen,” she sent back. “But I’ll be there. It’s my day off.”

“You’d better. If some bureaucrat asshole gives you overtime, I’ll smack them on the way to nab you. And you can quote me on that.”

This was concerning as Aunt Claire had at least two separate citations for smacking bureaucrats on her way to do something. That Nestra knew of. That woman was a menace.

Nestra’s relatively good mood lasted right until Shinoda and her reached the motor pool. All bait pairs were assigned a refurbished Touhei cruiser from ten years ago, which was actually a pretty good surprise considering they were some of the best cars ever designed according to her brother Ulysses. All she knew was that they were good all around as well as extremely reliable, with a grid covering the reinforced glass that could stop heavy machine gun fire. That was where the good news stopped, because leaning on their new rides were a trio of gleams in Gidung uniforms.

Shinoda stopped and tensed at a short distance which the assholes immediately picked up with knowing sneers. Nestra recognized their types immediately from the erratic mana pulsing through their bodies. Lack of discipline or lack of skill, often both, forced some raiders to the bottom of the totem pole. It was not enough to want to hurt and be ready to get hurt to be a good raider. One needed the brains to do so smartly, and the resilience to train every day. The portals didn’t suffer fools gladly and those guys had it painted all over their beings from messy hair to stubble to barely lit iris to frumpy uniforms to languid postures and everything in between. Nestra knew she had to take the initiative with a step forward and a bit of diplomacy.

“What are you corpo goons doing in our garage? Shouldn’t you be out working instead of playing tourist?”

The demeanor of the trio changed immediately. From mocking, they grew aggressive which would have happened no matter what when their demands would not be met. Now they looked like a pack of wolves and Nestra was a perfectly seared slice of medium-rare rib-eye steak with garlic green beans on the side aaaaaaand she was hungry again. Which made her bare her teeth… which incidentally gave the gleams pause. Now they were curious. One of them, a thick-set south east guy, leaned and whispered excitedly in the middle gleam’s ear, a Korean guy with dark hair and a poorly chosen mustache. Meanwhile, Shinoda had also moved forward to be right by her side and he was doing something with an old-school cellphone he was hiding behind his back in one hand. Nestra picked their words easily with her slightly enhanced senses. They’d recognized her.

“Well if it’s not the Palladian reject. You know, you kind of feel like you’re on the verge of something. If you ask nicely, maybe I could give you some mana so you could experience what it feels to be a quirkie instead of a drab? At least for a little while?”

“But then we’d both be quirkies,” Nestra deadpanned.

Oooh they didn’t like that. Gleams like them knew they were shit gleams but a drab wasn’t supposed to tell them they had so little mana they were on the verge of failing. The third guy, a tall anglo with a weaselly look, even took a step forward but the middle one held him back. There were cameras here, and the other officers were already gathering in quiet, judgmental clumps. They had witnesses. Probably what Shinoda was going for.

“Oh, feisty. Real shame you can’t play nice since, you know, we’re supposed to be your overwatch.”

Tall anglo guy smirked in a gotcha moment, as if Nestra could count on those clowns to save anything if the situation hit the fan.

“We just wanted to get acquainted. Much better to know the person as it would… motivate us to perform better and all that.”

So bribes.

“Oh that’s great, we’ll be sure to tell you if your assistance is required…” Nestra kept going.

She knew at this stage that pissing them off no longer served a purpose but she couldn’t resist. Guarding cops in a shit district was as much a punishment detail as it was possible to get for a gleam. Past that was plain expulsion which few corpos were willing to risk on gleams. That meant those gleams already knew they were on someone’s shit list and they either didn’t care, or they were not smart enough to realize it. No matter what, they would be a pain.

“Hope you don’t wait for too long,” mustache gleam said, then he signaled and the trio left under the blank attention of almost all of the cops that were in the meeting room.

The assembled cops waited around like a bunch of gargoyles until they were sure things were settled, then they filed out with quiet nods. They had done their duty. It was time to return to normal paranoia.

3.3

Shinoda moved into the car without waiting for Nestra, directly in the driver seat. When she climbed in the passenger seat, his seatbelt was already fastened.

That was a breach of etiquette, and a grievous one at that. Seniority meant he would decide who drives in the pair but they were supposed to agree on it as a form of respect. He’d completely bypassed that, so Nestra gave him an unimpressed look. He misinterpreted it.

“You had them handled, Palladian-san. I was backing you as a partner.”

“So is the car gene-locked or…”

“Sonna… Oh! I apologize. Oh, sorry. Please forgive me for this display.”

Nestra chuckled at how bashful the grim detective suddenly was, all red and sputtering. It felt so weird it was a little embarrassing.

It also revealed what sort of partnership he thought they had under the veneer of politeness. That… was actually fair. He was an overqualified person twice her age while she… well, she was doing her best. And he was mostly respectful.

“It’s ok, haha, it was a distracting experience.”

“Yes. I admit, I have faced users in the past over certain allegations. It has been… difficult. Sometimes. In truth, I am impressed by your handling of the situation. Are you not concerned they will retaliate?”

“Oh, they will. Mostly, they won’t come to help us. They might also let it be known. But those are bottom feeders. Scum. You don’t want to get close to them because they stain everything they touch. Give them an inch and they’ll ask for favors, the kind that ends up with them transferred elsewhere and you transferred in front of the rat squad.”

“Is your experience with your family… helping you?”

Nestra shrugged. Of course he knew who she was.

“Yeah. And my experience as someone who thought I’d be one of them. And it doesn’t hurt that they expect me to be connected. I mean, the Palladians don’t officially support me but my parents and my aunt got a reputation. It’s protected me a few times, I suppose. Anyway, enough about them. Gleams are like bad weather. Can’t do anything about them but wait.”

“Sou ka? Very well.”

The cruiser left the brand new garage at good speed under the expert hands of Shinoda who, like quite a few people she knew, never fully trusted the car’s AI. They drove deeper into Fifteen through narrow streets and crowded alleys, most of which had been avenues and wide roads before debris and sometimes even fallen buildings cluttered them into inaccessibility. The light of early morning exposed the place mercilessly as the shithole it was. Ugly concrete structures were the best one could hope for in the brutalist cityscape of post-incursion architecture but Fifteen went a step further by being abjectly poor as well. The hab blocs stood yellowed and cracked like old teeth among an ocean of detritus piles. Shinoda expertly wove between the worst trash heaps while figures watched them cautiously, huddled around barrel fires for warmth. The mood was grim. People stepped away warily when they approached, only relaxing after they were gone. Nestra spotted at least five different armed guards though they looked more like local security than ganger muscle.

The place lacked the tattooed groups standing with affected confidence or jeering. Most of the gang signs were wiped away while crews, flying drone hives, and huge, automated machines cleared debris and the accumulated trash. In a way, Fifteen was licking its wounds but the body was far from healthy.

“We should start showing ourselves at the market and move up from there. Listen to the people,” Shinoda said.

“Hope they talk to us.”

“Some of them will if only to show the others they are not afraid. Over a thousand people. Ronins will be plenty, probably.”

“And they all want to be unequaled under the heavens?” Nestra drawled.

“Hahaha. So kamo ne. I will park over there.”

Shinoda drove under an arch into the integrated parking lot of their assigned hab block. It was a large open space under the main body where the view was only obstructed by support beams. Only carcasses of vehicles remained now, every useful part long since stripped. If people could afford a car, they wouldn’t be living here. Shinoda stopped in a relatively uncluttered space in plain view, within a short distance of the market just in case they had to leg it. Nestra hoped they wouldn’t because Shinoda couldn’t leg anything for very long. And the cruiser wasn’t very safe.

Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. The cruiser was pretty good, hermetically sealed and it would probably be cleaned every night at the pool. She still fully anticipated every last wheel to smell like teenager piss by early afternoon. Those who tried to break stuff with stones would waste their time and those trying to trash it or steal stuff would get a very bad experience. Nestra came out cautiously, made sure she had everything strapped and released her small flock of drones made by Stib with the convenient activation of the visor command ‘Nestraguard.exe’. A really simple prompt allowed her to assign a camera to the car, just in case someone tried to open a window with a walker warhead.

Stepping out of the shaded lot in the open was like playing a scene from an old western. The two vaqueros strode in the open air saloon while over a hundred and fifty people looked up from whatever the fuck they were doing. Nestra only hoped it wouldn’t end in ‘exit scene, pursued by lynching mob’.

The open market was large and obviously also a social hub. The scent of spices and grilling meat covered the unpleasant background stench of neglect pretty well. In fact, the market area was rather clean. Food stands were old and settled with tarps and antique folding chairs, the paint peeling off in places. Other stands sold off-brand clothes made in fabricators using custom models. Some of them showed a unique style that spoke of true effort. As for the people, they were both widely different and yet similar in some ways.

Some of the older workers wore stained coveralls as they ate a late breakfast. Some felt more like drifters, others like artists, others were broken people hard on their luck with dejected expressions. A certain equilibrium kept the groups balanced between each other, and with an idle herd of young adults with ridiculous baggy clothes. Nestra’s instinct recognized them as a threat immediately. She would bet a Kero nut against a pistachio that they were packing heat. It was the only explanation as to why they would be caught outside wearing that.

“What are you pigs doing here?” a short-haired dark guy asked from a stall selling tech stuff. He wore a pretty distinctive acid green ensemble that made him noticeable. Nestra recognized him from the file. He was also known for repairing and repurposing equipment.

Fate hung in the balance etc, so Nestra let Shinoda handle it. Standing here with confidence in his old-fashioned clothes, the mature detective carried a disarming, fatherly aura. Nestra wondered what wisdom he would share.

“Pig stuff, of course,” he genially replied.

A few people shook their heads, others returned to eating or grilling. There were a few low chuckles but though no rousing endorsement, it was enough for their purposes. Shinoda was in and the youth was declawed, though he didn’t realize it yet.

“Where were you fuckers a month ago,” he grumbled.

There were still a dozen people watching. Weirdly, Nestra felt like being the one to answer.

“Uh, we didn’t want to get pasted,” she helpfully replied.

The last of the tension bled out. Overhead, a squad of drones made a flyby to spew Gidung propaganda. No one gave a shit.

Shinoda walked to the nearest food stand and Nestra followed until a quick check revealed half of her drones were down. Their cameras were gray and an error message returned ‘connection jammed’. She turned to see the sneering heckler, now waving a sort of remote control with an arguably deserved shit-eating grin.

“Lost something, angmoh bitch?”

Her visor returned ‘white person’ for angmoh. Hokkien, so maybe originally from Singapore. She anticipated needing the onboard dictionary quite a bit.

Shinoda spotted the problem and he went back, which got a few glares. Nestra knew it would be easier to just let it go but her life might depend on those drones and besides, they were Stib’s gifts. And that guy was being a prick. She approached his stall while Shinoda engaged with a nice, calming sentence. The place was filled with cobbled together stuff with wires exposed. There were drones, appliances, and quite a few things that looked like defensive systems missing just the weapon. A couple of them rose when she approached and she realized they had flechette guns on them. Enough to draw blood though they wouldn’t pierce her armor.

“Nuh uh, angmoh. You don’t want to hurt your pretty lips, uh?” the seller said with a smile, then he mimicked a blowjob.

He was getting a very small crowd but most people seemed not to care much for his bullshit overall which implied they were used to it. So Nestra turned to the side and revealed a small sphere which she rotated. There was a click and a countdown appeared on the sphere’s surface.

10 9 8

The seller didn’t fail to recognize a nice standard issue police EMP charge, the kind used to wipe out drones during operations. This would destroy Nestra’s visors, her remaining drones, and that guy’s entire livelihood.

“Yo bitch, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Nice stall.”

7 6 5

“Would be a real shame.”

“You wouldn’t dare you siao girl.”

4 3 2

Nestra shrugged.

She would most definitely dare.

“Ok, stop.”

She pressed the button, leaving a red blinking 1 hanging between them.

“My partner would just like her belongings back,” Shinoda said.

“They were made by a good friend so I don’t get jumped,” Nestra agreed. “So return them or I’m wiping us both. You got three seconds.”

It took less than one to have her drones return to her control and for the seller to spread his arms around with a radiant smile.

“Heyyyyy no need to get angry lah, just playing around a little? Little hazing for you newcomers. So, we good anot?”

Nestra deactivated the charge.

“I still owe you for that dick joke.”

“Heeyyyyy come on angmoh, give Flash a break. Walao, you guys are sooo tense.”

“Please do not mind Flash, boss,” the food stand guy behind them said. “He’s just an idiot. Good guy though. Don’t buy his rice cookers.”

“It was just one time!”

With the crisis averted, Shinoda was left talking to Flash which left Nestra with a choice. She could play second fiddle in an exchange with someone who’d tried to nab her stuff. Or! She could ‘interrogate’ the other guy who happened to sell skewers of grilled meat and shiitake mushrooms drenched in chili oil with, if her nose was right, some cumin.

Obviously, they could split to cover more ground if they were just a few meters apart. The food seller was a short guy wearing an actual apron and a white hat. His nose flared, smelling a good deal with the same accuracy Nestra smelled diced garlic.

“Lay ho! Hello! Welcome to my stand. I am old Lin. Meat? My best stuff. Try one!”

Nestra grabbed the thin wood piece and chomped on the offered piece of meat. It was pork, very tender, unnaturally so. No mana but enough calories to achieve happiness.

“You like? Is my juiciest rat,” the guy said with a nice, wide, gotcha smirk.

“Oh good. And here I was afraid it might be vat-grown pig.”

“Hah! You have good tastebuds. Skewers? Four creds for meat. Two for mushrooms and one for momo bread. Crispy and nice.”

Nestra ended up with a nice spread for twenty creds, reduced from twenty-two because she was such a pretty gweilo (another term for white people, there were quite a few of those) and also because she made Flash shut up. That was apparently worth something here.

“So, why you are here Leng Lui? Racket? Please say no.”

“We’re just supposed to show ourselves and help when needed.”

“You and what army?” her cook replied with naked disbelief.

“No army unless we get jumped. I’ll let you on a secret,” she said, leaning forward.

“Really?”

“We don’t actually expect a lot of people to ask for our help.”

“Ooooh, very smart, very smart. Yes. Because you cops are useless?”

“I mean, we got to build some trust first. Anyway, I should leave. Nice food.”

Shinoda was done telling Flash he was impressive for breaking decent encryption that fast. The young asshole was positively preening. The two strangers in a semi-hostile land regrouped and moved on.

The trip through the market remained uneventful. Most people were not quite as welcoming as old Lin had been but they provided service, most of the time.

“That smells quite nice,” Nestra told a lady selling naan she stuck to the inside of a bell-shaped oven.

“Yeah but smelling is all you’ll do. I don’t do business with pigs,” the lady replied with a calm expression that said the only way Nestra would taste it would be theft and battery. Nestra shrugged. Not a surprise.

Except for that one incident, they were mostly just tolerated as they moved through a crowd that gave them a wide berth. Only the most confident people asked them questions.

“So you guys think you’re here to stay?”

“Are you going to try and tax us?”

“What are you going to do about trash collection?”

“When’s the hospital coming? We were told there would be one?”

Obviously no one trusted them farther than they believed they could throw them but at least there were no overt shows of hostility, and they reached the end unmolested. Shinoda pointed to a set of wide stairs and the long trek up began. Long, because Shinoda was taking his time since he could not afford to run out of breath. And also because the place was a maze.

What reports failed to say was that many of the hab blocks’ corridors were obstructed by very deliberate blockades, not piles of trash but welded bars, corrugated steel amalgams and, in one case, an actual wall made of concrete blocks cemented in place with surprising professionalism. Some of the passages ended with locked doors and others with concerned guards who were more than eager to point the way up.

“There are elevators but they are limited to the manufacturing levels. They have jury-rigged security access. We will not take this path very often,” Shinoda explained as a way of apology though Nestra didn’t care.

The place was messy and fascinating and also some of the graffitis were frankly impressive. The ones without dicks, that is.

“They’ll let us use them?”

“I will ask politely. Please do not override anything unless there is an emergency.”

“Sure,” Nestra replied. “Not that I’d know how to do it. That’s Stibs’ domain.”

“The friend who gave you the drones?”

“Yes.”

“Her setup is very impressive. We are lucky she refused to join a corporation. Are they deployed now?”

“All the time, yeah.”

They reached a long corridor overlooking the central courtyard. Some of the railing was missing. Shinoda slowed down.

“So, are they telling you what I suspect?” the detective asked.

“Five of them. One’s running ahead to corner us.”

“The baggy clothes groups that followed us at the market?”

“Yes. I’m seeing weapons.”

“I wish to talk to them.”

“Sure.”

3.4

Shinoda resolutely walked to the end of the path, stopping right at the corner. He looked at Nestra who gave him a countdown. At zero, a tall guy turned around, almost into Shinoda. He swung without thinking.

Nestra’s senses were a little enhanced in human form, which gave her all the time to appreciate the old detective’s flowing motion as he grabbed the extended arm with his own, twisted on himself, heaved the unbalanced ganger over his shoulder and sent him bodily crashing against the balustrade, which cracked ominously and then, broke.

Nestra grabbed the guy’s arm before he could plummet down on a hat-seller stand. He glared at her with venomous intensity as if Nestra was enjoying herself pulling that sack of muscles up. The fall wouldn't kill him. She was half-tempted to pull the good old Mufasa.

“Give me your hand!” Shinoda yelped by her side.

His genuine concern shocked Nestra, and the ganger as well. He still hesitated halfway because apparently, his pride had short-circuited his higher brain functions.

“Kusogaki. Hand. Give. Now.”

The two finally hoisted the idiot back up just as the rest of the group arrived behind them. Without hesitation, Shinoda released the idiot so he could join his friends with bashful resentment. Nestra took position behind Shinoda while the two sides made their stand.

The local thugs were a sorry lot.

It was not just the cheap baggy clothes that only hid weapons from naive eyes and protected absolutely nothing. It was also the general lack of edge they were displaying, defiance without the training and mentality Nestra had seen in her colleagues over the years. Riel, even Pudding would have demolished these guys for breakfast and he used to eat three of them. And they were young. They were so damn young. The oldest thug was the leader, and he was younger than Nestra. Nineteen or twenty. South East Asian. He was the only one who’d successfully grown facial hair and though he did have a certain magnetism, Nestra could see the tension in his shoulders. Interestingly, the security file didn’t mention them.

“Guess the little piggies have eyes.”

“It won’t go like you think it will go,” Shinoda stated.

“Hah,” the leader scoffed.

He sounded more bitter than angry. Nestra noticed he kept his hand relaxed by his side, near the pocket of his baggy trousers. Probably had a piece there though she didn’t know why he hadn’t already drawn it like most of his friends. As for the other guys, their irons were fabricator-made junk made from blueprints designed to go around hard-coded safeties against gun proliferation. Basically, they’d manufactured each piece of the gun independently then assembled them. The results were boxy, unwieldy things that made even her antique service rifle look like shiny corp gear. The only people those fuckers could threaten were groups as pathetic as themselves. It was a little sad but she kept the observation to herself because Shinoda was taking them seriously. To be fair, even a garbo gun could still kill.

“You’re gonna give me the speech about how if I off you, a hundred will replace you? Or some shit like that?” the leader continued.

“That won’t happen.”

The leader’s smirk gained a steel edge.

“You knew I was coming but that does not mean you can stop me.”

“Not this. We will not be replaced. Should you kill us, it will be over. But it will not serve your purpose.”

“You don’t know what my purpose is.”

“Then tell me,” Shinoda said with kindness and patience.

Nestra got a feeling the leader had just gotten trapped and he knew it as well. For a moment, she thought he was going to opt out and just get back to violence, but the rest of his squad was looking at him with curiosity. Maybe they also knew cops were bad but they’d not articulated exactly why. Riel, they really were so fucking young.

“I want to stop what’s going to happen here. Seen it before. First you can’t move around, then you can’t have a gun. Can’t sell food without a corpo permit. Can’t sell local stuff cause it’s not licensed. Drones everywhere. Just wait a bit and the entire kib is just a slum around a combini and a pawn shop. And we’re all on the fucking dole waiting for corpo nutrient bars.”

He pulled a stick from a pocket and lit it, sending a puff of smoke traveling towards Nestra with lazy defiance. It smelled like weed.

“So gonna make it costly. Maybe too costly. We won’t kill you. Rough you up a bit. Won’t even ask a little knob slob from the sow. But we’ll send the message. And hey, maybe we get the fucking borgs dropped on us but at least we’ll have fought back, yeah?”

“I see. You are protecting your… kib, was it?”

The thugs chuckled. They really thought it was funny watching the old timers use the local slang.

“We are not here for that. We are, ah, the canaries. In a mine. Do you understand?”

“Is this some old guy shit I’m supposed to get?”

“Old, yes. Pre-incursion. A long time ago, canaries were kept in mines to see if the air would go sour. Do you know how you can tell if the mine air is sour?”

“It’s the canaries?”

“Yes. They are dead.”

The toughs were now listening to Shinoda with grisly fascination, certain that they had the upper hand anyway so indulging in a little banter couldn’t hurt. Shinoda grabbed that attention like a gleam on a dance floor.

“There are only two of us. We cannot be the law in this ‘kib’. Our role is to tell the town where to go with the help, and the hospitals, and the supplies. If the canaries die then the place is not a good place to help. It is simple. And there is something else.”

The youth waited.

“We are Threshold officers. We are not corporate private security. We are not even well paid.”

Nestra nodded before she could think, which made a few of the thugs shift with amusement. Her instincts kept telling her they were no danger and the Scornful Crescent whispered in her ear that she could take them all out and solve the situation immediately. Make them afraid of her. Gain dominance. But that wasn’t what she wanted.

“This is your one and last chance to get a better life, because the city will try a little and then it will give up and leave the district to Gidung. The truth is, no one believes in you. The city will offer training. It will give you access to healthcare and assistance for those who need it to get better. It will not close the fabricators or the vat farms. But most people do not expect much from it because they believe you are a lost cause. You can choose to stay here if you wish and perhaps Gidung will win. Or you can grab that chance and turn your luck around.”

Shinoda shrugged.

“You can change and make progress. I can even help you. It will not be easy because no one wants to make it easy for you, but it is possible. Or you can do the same thing you have always done and let the world crush you. It will take a while and maybe you will feel like you’re fighting a noble cause but in the end, it will not matter. You are warriors with homemade guns. They have power walkers and bored users. It is not a war you can win by fighting with the weapons you have now.”

“Sure, ok. Why would you even care?”

“I was part of the crushing force, a long time ago. Luck offered me a mark as a reminder.”

Slowly, the detective opened his vest and unbuttoned the shirt underneath. From her position at his back, Nestra couldn’t see what he showed but the way the thugs flinched told her enough. He had to be sporting the mother of all scars.

“I have carried this mark everywhere I go. I will no longer be part of those who crush, but I cannot escape the trap for you. Only you can do it. As I said, I can help you. I can show you the tools. You will see that I tell the truth. If at any point, you believe I lie…”

He approached the nearest ganger. With two delicate fingers, he picked the barrel of the homemade gun then slowly lifted it until the muzzle rested between his eyes.

“If that happens, you can kill me. I will not try to stop you.”

So that was why Kim had told Nestra to keep an eye on that fucker because, as far as Nestra could tell with her sharp senses, Shinoda was unafraid. His heartbeat was steady. There was no sweat on his skin. He was… truly indifferent to dying.

That felt wrong to Nestra until she realized that until two weeks ago, she’d shared the exact same mindset. But now life tasted sweet and she no longer wanted to let it go. It was a strange feeling realizing how much she wanted to keep existing now.

The thug pulled his gun away from Shinoda’s forehead, breaking the spell. The dynamic of the situation had changed and the promise of violence was now a distant thing, faded into the background. That lasted until the leader realized there was a foreign piece inserted in this perfect scene like the black queen on the white side of a chessboard. Someone who was sticking out. Someone who didn’t fit.

Nestra.

“How about you, pig girl? Why are you here?”

Shinoda stepped to the side and gave her a warm smile. That gesture was aimed at the others, to show them she had his blessing and trust rather than speaking over her to smooth things over. Fortunately, Nestra had actually given it some thought.

“I almost died fighting the gangers during the purge. They had corpo gear, unmarked, and I think we both know how they got it. I’m just here to make sure Gidung doesn’t get free rein over the district.”

“You think you grunts can do anything?”

“Yes, I do. So long as we’re around, no one can just wipe the place and blame it on ‘terrorist action’. I’m not joking by the way.”

“Oh so now you’re our shield against the corpo, eh?”

“Yeah because so long as we’re here, they have to pretend to care.”

Nestra knew she wasn’t as convincing as Shinoda. The gang seemed divided over her statement. She knew she was making sense but it was clear she didn’t really give a shit about them and the fact she was armed and on guard reflected that. They felt it too.

“Nice blade by the way. Can I see it?” the leader asked.

“That’s a family gift, so no. But for the rest, feast your eyes.”

Nestra pulled her vest open, revealing the Wellington body armor along with some of her gadgets and the hand cannon resting against her hip. A few loud whistles welcomed the reveal.

“Nice. Is that an EMP charge?” the leader asked, pointing at the gadget she’d used against Flash.

Nestra knew where this was going. She grabbed the grenade and threw it. The leader caught it in the air with ease. A sleight of hand and it was gone. A toll. A symbol. Nestra could live with that.

“Ok. We’ll see if you mean it or you’re just talk, piggies. See you later.”

The thugs left in good order, leaving the law in control of the corridor and the situation. No bloodbath! They were off to such a good start.

“That went as well as I’d hoped,” Nestra said.

“It is so, ne? Let’s hope this lasts.”

3.5

Part 7:

“Wow.”

Nestra had to admit, she was impressed. The hab housed an actual meat vat farm with slabs of cloned meat bobbing peacefully in nutrient juices. Helpers moved around the vats, checking indicators and adding powders to the mix. Much of the supplies were piled haphazardly across the room in piles. There was even mold in the corner. To Nestra’s left, an open door led to some sort of biomass recycling thing if the acidic stench of rot wafting from there was any indication. What didn’t look stolen had to be counterfeited and yet Nestra knew with absolute certainty that they still made it work.

Mostly because of the skewers she’d had.

“Welcome, welcome esteemed customers,” an old lady with a turban and a dark gaze said.

Shinoda greeted the lady with respect, which she returned. The file said she was Miss Yadar, no known first name, and probably the hab block’s richest denizen. The two discussed matters in a low voice while Nestra did her best not to scrunch her nose at the aggressive scents attacking her senses. Eventually, they left, though not before exchanging numbers so Nestra hoped this meant Yadar was taking them as serious potential partners. That or the lady wanted to bang Shinoda. She couldn’t be sure. Seduction plays were hard to read for her, especially when they weren’t aimed at her.

In any case, they got to visit the hab block’s upper floors.

It was simply incredible what humanity could achieve with a complete disregard of work safety, intellectual property rights, worker rights, and taxation. Truly inspirational. There were fabricators spitting jailbroken or custom made appliances to be used all around Fifteen! Rice cookers and mixers at prices that defied common sense were piled in thin metal boxes, ready to be sent down the stained elevators. At least, this specific part was healthy.

“No drug labs,” Nestra observed.

Shinoda agreed in silence. There didn’t seem to be many addicts either. It looked like they’d drawn the jackpot for assignments. So, that was nice.

“Hey, wait. I got something.”

Nestra opened her feed. One of her drones was keeping an eye on her car. A figure was approaching it. She paid attention this time because the figure didn’t fit. To her surprise, no one had pissed on the door handle, perhaps out of concern of getting their private parts zapped. There were a few young stone throwers but that was about it. The one who appeared was super suspicious. She shared the feed with Shinoda who watched it on his old datasheet.

“Oh, Palladian-san. Our friend seems lost.”

The guy approaching the car had a cap and a face mask for anonymity, but he also wore brand new nondescript cargo pants, sneakers, and a hoodie in brown and blue shades. They looked fresh out of the fabricator. In police parlance this was called the ‘undercover cops summer collection’. For the winter collection, just add a vest. This guy fit in like a zit on a gleam’s ass. He looked left and right, then walked closer, barely pausing near the door. His hand moved with aug speed then he was off.

“Tracker?” Nestra asked.

“It seems that way. Listener as well, certainly. Our Gidung friends have made their first move. They should have used a drone.”

“Perhaps they’re afraid of Flash. He noticed my drones immediately.”

“Hmmmm. Then it is fortunate you two reached an agreement, ne?”

“You could call it that.”

The pair rode the elevator down. It was getting close to 6PM so Nestra dropped her drones in slow mode at specific points across the block to keep an eye on things, expecting nights to be more animated. The pair climbed into their cruiser after unpeeling the tracker. Nestra tossed it at a garbage collector drone on the ride back.

“Today went very well, I think?” Nestra asked.

She didn’t really have a frame of reference.

“Yes. We were only… accosted once, ne? And no violence. But there were no crimes today. None that we were called to solve. Tomorrow might change that. They will be testing our ability to solve problems without bringing in the hammer. You did well, Palladian-san.”

“Not going to comment on the EMP threat?”

“Ah, I believe it pays to show a little teeth sometimes, ne? You can be bad cop.”

“Why thank you.”

To celebrate being a bad cop, Nestra ate her prepared snacks (spring rolls) before falling asleep in the car, only waking up long enough to transfer to her own car. She only woke up at midnight. It was time to raid again, and this time, she felt a certain sense of urgency along with the usual excitement.

It was only a matter of time before she was attacked for real. Every little bit of help would increase her chances of success. And soon, she would be using her demon form in the real world as well.

***

Tonight’s portal world was inside of a tightly locked warehouse at the edge of the city, where smaller companies or artisans stored their stuff. Nestra found no way to get in without breaking in so she did the same as last time. She followed the pleasant energy until she was close enough to slip into the portal.

It was dark in there, and it smelled musty. Bricks spoke of an artificial structure made by tools but not as much as an actual panel with arrows for direction.

Nestra caressed the rust-colored stone, going over the symbols with mixed feelings of curiosity and regret. Those were not magical inscriptions or anything. Just chiseled, coarse runes designed for functionality with arrows pointing towards empty corridors, and yet they evoked a sense of wonder.

There were theories.

In the last days of the incursion, an army spilled from the largest portals and contrary to normal monsters, they were organized. Organized and deadly. Some of the rising hopes of mankind died in the spears of those feathered, bipedal lizards. For a moment, it seemed that all was lost. Mankind saw its doom and simply called them the Shetanis, the devils.

It was Riel who saved them all. Riel the savior. Riel the messiah. Possibly still the most powerful human to have ever lived even years after the fact. Hell, he might still be alive. No one knew his real name. All humans knew was that he was a space mage of considerable power who used portals to carry his elite force from battlefield to battlefield, defeating the enemy in detail. He’d disappeared in one of his own spells at the paroxysm of the conflict, taking the opposing leadership with him. Some speculated he escaped into some other dimension afterward. Nestra thought he was finely minced atoms, but everyone needed their King Arthur ready to return from Avalon to save everyone once more.

Anyway, the main point was, there was intelligent life out there. Nestra was likely from out there and she was intelligent life as well, pretty sure. There were even theories that the Shetanis were meant to inherit the earth and that the portals they came from didn’t lead to an artificial world but a real one. Nestra believed in it - the ‘real worlds’ theory, not the inheriting part. All those creatures and landscapes were not taken from the void, They were real places, out there, being mimicked by whatever it was that did portals.

And just like this world, sometimes, the life was intelligent.

Maybe some aliens out there were chucking poison darts at magically cloned retail workers in some fried chicken franchise. Nestra imagined the enraged copies tossing boiling oil at the invaders from behind the fry stand. Glorious. May they spread the fear of mankind to all those species.

Nestra checked her hand for dust. So, apparently, she still felt somewhat human. Or at least on the human side. Even though she wasn’t one. That was… weird? Or was it? She really needed to get the benefactor to talk to her soonish.

In any case, she was in a copy of a base inhabited by intelligent life. Intelligent enough to write directions.

It was unfortunate she had to kill them but the truth was that portal creatures were irredeemably aggressive. Nestra knew there had been attempts to communicate with them, even including drugs and some ethically questionable and extremely rare gleam powers that made people more… amenable. All those efforts had failed. Now, capturing intelligent creatures was prohibited in Threshold for ethical reasons, which really went to show the unspeakable things humans had done for vengeance or for fun. And that was just here in one of the bastions of civility. In some places like the Nairobi enclave, killing captive intelligent species was a spectator sport because they tended to be… entertainingly resourceful.

“Right. Enough of this.”

Nestra was on a timer. The portals were growing increasingly complex which meant they took an increasingly longer time to clear. Maybe soon, they would start eating into her sleep time. Or her snack time. Awful. Better get on the way.

The portal world was clearly underground, in a complex of dark red, pitted bricks with spaced stones emitting a dull red light. The walls were rather high and the corridors were large enough for her to wield her sword comfortably. The directions on the wall pointed towards several corners. Besides them, there was nothing differentiating one path from the next and the place had obviously been designed to be confusing to navigate, with no corridor being straight for longer than twenty paces. Of course, that didn’t mean anything for Nestra since she had a visor with her. The onboard software would create a map as she progressed.

Carefully, Nestra moved out. Corridors only led to more corridors and, sometimes, dead ends. She decided to record the directions on the wall and just follow one for a while. As she glanced past an intersection, she heard a dull explosion. The ground shook once under her feet while dust fell from the ceiling.

This was… a bunker? Interesting. A memory brushed her mind, from an eternity ago. A lesson from her father about the rare worlds and what could be found there. Hmmm. Red stone. Bunkers. Explosions. Could it be… the Infinite War? No, that would be too perfect.

After one more turn, Nestra finally found her first opponents. The corridor turned right towards a large gate guarded by two bipedal creatures wearing a full body suit of dark material, possibly leather. Cumbersome masks with four bulbous glasses for — she presumed — the eyes, covered all their features. They were stout and almost round, slightly shorter than human, and wielded pneumatic rifles with a bayonet fixed under the barrel.

It was the Infinite War! Amazing!

Staying low to the ground, she walked out, sticking to the deeper shadows between the light stones. She was only a few steps away when the closest creature let out a grunt of surprise. She used momentum to move forward.

The creatures were so surprised they fumbled their weapons. Her first cut decapitated the right one, then she thrusted her blade into the chest of the second. It dropped its weapon but didn’t die immediately. A coup-de-grace silenced it.

A rush of power filled her. It spoke of increased resilience, of the ability to endure. Well, not resilient enough to stop her anyway. A quick search revealed nothing specific. The creatures were fleshy but shared more in common with worms than mammals that she could tell. They were just weird. They didn’t really wear armor but their uniforms were naturally protective. A quick shot with one of the pneumatic rifles sent a cone of steel lodging itself into the wall, not very deep but deep enough to hurt her. They did feel difficult to handle though, despite the lack of recoil.

So it really was Infinite War.

A rare world, Infinite War provided a bleak outlook of what positional battle could become if left to fester for too long. The creatures living there had dug themselves to standstill, with an unknown number of sides involved, all gathering a collection of creatures. The place wasn’t well researched since it was so rare anyway, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was the buffet of power provided to her. More diversity of prey meant more power ups since she had diminishing returns on creatures she’d hunted before.

It was time to hunt.

Giddy, Nestra found a key to the gate and opened it. Inside, she found… an armory.

Not a very big one though.

Much like the rest of the complex, the armory was bare-walled and devoid of any decoration. Crates and shelves lined the space in neat, well-organized stacks. There were cone ammo dumps, rifles, side arms that looked like extinguishers with handles, sabers, bayonets, helmets of various sizes, muzzles, and one thing that looked a bit like a flamethrower.

They were all shit.

That was the issue with many of the portal worlds, at least at her rank. What the natives were using was systematically inferior to human stuff. Ah, whatever. Going out, she selected another directional keyword and kept walking. Less than two corridors later, a noise alerted her.

There was a patrol nearby. It consisted of three of the footmen she’d already killed along with a pair of hound things but white and misshapen, and a strange creature that looked like a jellyfish planted on a gorilla’s body as its head. All of them were short and strong.

Even though she was in the shadows, the jellyfish turned directly to her. Nestra realized that the entire appendage was covered in eyes.

It was absolutely disgusting.

The creature screeched and Nestra charged forward. Momentum brought her among the group. The Scornful Crescent guided her steps when she pushed aside the barrels, when she slew the first two guards. A hound jumped and she stepped back, killing it mid-air. The other stumbled on its slain brethren and Nestra struck true. The last guard missed her with a rifle shot but she still rushed back when the jellyfish lit up like a Christmas tree. An azure shockwave spread through the corridor, banishing the darkness with a fizzle of spent electricity. Nestra was back in again before the rifleman finished reloading. She killed both.

The jellyfish’s head was super mushy. It pretty much exploded when she sliced it.

“Ugh.”

Power seeped into Nestra’s essence. Resilience from the guards, awareness from the hound, but from the jellyfish came something new. She felt a font awaken in her, pulsing in rhythm with her breath. It was the last piece of the puzzle, the last element of a core: fast mana generation. It was what allowed casting users to stay in the fight even after they’d depleted their reserves.

“Oh I’m loving this place.”

Nestra checked the patrol but found nothing worth taking, only mundane materials used on inferior technology. As for the meat of the hounds and jellyfish thing, it looked and smelled so vile, it might as well have been designed on purpose to induce nausea. That was ok.

A little later, Nestra encountered another, similar patrol. This time, she didn’t make the mistake of letting the jellyfish live. Her first slice covered the helmets of two guards in enough gore to blind them, leaving her to dispose of the hounds with ease. It was a slaughter and the… sobriety of movement of that hunt sent shivers down her spine. Perhaps it was a little premature to search for perfection in execution when she knew so little about the world, but there was no shame in enjoying a bit of pride when she managed it.

Nestra’s triumph was short-lived. A grunting call rang from all around as if from loudspeakers. The language was coarse and entirely guttural to the point that even differentiating between each curt, barked syllable proved impossible. A whoomp that sounded suspiciously like an alarm alternated with short sentences.

“Ah, oops?”

3.6

This was the second portal since the fort to be reactive as a whole and Nestra believed this was going to become the norm. Her training didn’t cover that.

It was kind of exciting.

She kept following the same direction at a good pace until she heard feet stomping around a corner. She stopped. It sounded like more people this time. Reinforced patrols? Nice. As far as she knew, monster numbers were fixed inside of a portal world so that simply meant she would have to fight less encounters. Holding her breath, she waited until they approached. Just there, at the corner.

The first guards just turned the corner when she used momentum to appear before them. Masks. She couldn’t see their faces. A sideway slash imbued with mana, just to be sure. Gain the advantage. Two dead, cloven in two. Forward. She killed the next pair on two clean strikes while they were raising their rifles. Go with the flow. Every step is part of a whole, a perfection in motion designed to take down the opposition in the most elegant, flawless way possible. Art given form. Dive under a jumping hound. Stab another as it rushes her. Crush the jellyfish just as it charges. The timing must be perfect. She smashed through the patrol in a whirlwind of violence before they could recover, before they could bring their numbers to bear.

Lots of numbers.

This patrol was more than twice the previous one, with new variants. One of the creatures had four arms, each ending in a blade that seems grafted there. It twisted on itself to deliver four blows. Weak, all of them. Nestra took a step back then caught a wrist with a devastating blow, severing it. The dervish creature stumbled. The next blow killed it. Nestra felt power seeping into her again, more speed this time. She—

Pain.

A shock, a stumble forward. A spike hit her lower back. The projectile fell, not having penetrated deep enough to stick. Blood. Hers. She turned and killed a hound but the rifleman took a step back as he reloaded. Use momentum and kill it, then turn and stumble back. A second jellyfish creature unleashed a shockwave of electricity. The beasts near it were unaffected. Two guards raised their pneumatic guns.

Use momentum to rush forward. Errant indigo bolts danced on her arms, the remnants of the jellyfish spell. They tingled painfully and her arm spasmed but she endured. She brute-force smashed through the second dervish and killed the jellyfish with a single decapitating strike. Only a couple of guards left but she heard it. Rushing feet coming from, well.

Coming from everywhere.

The guards were running away, though it felt more like a tactic than real fear. She hesitated and that hesitation cost her. The Stalk of the Scornful Crescent stopped with her doubt. Continue or run in the other direction? To remain untouchable or to crush relentlessly.

She didn’t know.

There were just too many parameters she couldn’t understand. Maybe it would be best to continue a running battle. She had mapped enough of the place to avoid being cornered or escape. She turned, and that was when a sharp pain lanced through her left arm.

There was a needle in it. A long, very thin black needle. Through it. Her panicked eyes found a creature emerging from a puddle of darkness on the nearby wall, torso half exposed to reveal a black leather coat and a steel mask, bare except for two eye slits. The assassin carried a hand crossbow, now empty though it was already pulling back the string.

Nestra struck but the creature was already disappearing and the tip of her blade only tore pieces of rust-colored gravel. The alarm sound redoubled and new eructed words came with increasing urgency.

“Fuck.”

Nestra ran away. The assassin was a level of magnitude faster than the others. Mid D-class, she’d say. About as fast as her. That could only mean one thing. Errant boss.

Sometimes, the commander or most dangerous beast of a world didn’t wait at the end but preferred to harass the invaders during the whole trip. That was the case here. She should have — aaarg. She wasn’t taking this seriously enough! Portal Worlds killed raiders every day all across the planet and she’d seen it as a distraction because it had been too easy.

The weird benefactors had sent her here as a lesson.

Nestra pulled the spike. At least it wasn’t poisoned or she would have felt it now. What a disaster.

Ok, calm down.

She would return to the entrance just in case she had to escape, but her goal would also be to take down patrols as fast as possible. The assassin was probably stalking her so she ought to watch out for that. Ahead of her, a spot of deeper darkness spread over a wall, at the exact half distance between two bleary light sources. She could only see it because her dark vision was perfect. It disappeared soon after. The assassin was biding its time but… perhaps she could lure it out. Ignoring the pain in her arm and back, Nestra decided to veer to the side where she heard a patrol, a smaller one this time. Not all of them had had the time to converge, it seemed. She charged forward using momentum to crash against the guards once more, their rifles unable to follow.

Fighting while keeping an eye out was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. Tensions grasped her heart with its cold touch but she didn’t relent. Open with the guards, kill the hounds next. She was already familiar with the perfect path. It had already become… less exciting. Too predictable. A dot on the wall there.

Another.

A part of Nestra’s brain panicked but the rest focused, slicing at the head of the assassin as it appeared. It saw her. It tried to pull back. Nestra felt it strain against the mana, resisting it to hide back into the shadows but it was in vain. The assassin used the darkness as a tool. It didn’t understand it enough to reverse the spell’s course and so darkness pushed it forward just as it was originally meant to do. There was so much powerless rage in the assassin’s gaze as it died that Nestra felt like she was looking at herself. Diving low, she hid behind the jellyfish and thrust up and through its brain just as a long dark spike embedded itself in its flaccid body. There was now a third pool of darkness emerging from a side wall. Three assassins. And this one would have a perfect vantage.

Desperate times, desperate measures.

Nestra called upon precision. The power guided her muscles for a perfect throw. The assassins’ eyes widened in fright behind its mask when it saw her move but it was too late. With unerring accuracy, her blade flew through the air. It landed in the assassin’s chest with a ghastly wet sound.

This left two guards, the second assassin who now had a clear path towards her, and a Nestra with a wounded left arm, a pistol on her left hip she couldn’t properly reach, and not a shitload of options.

Had to try it.

She lacked training but… no choice. Sometimes, one had to use weapons they had not mastered yet.

She was going to cast a spell.

Nestra extended her fingers towards the assassin as it aimed, the two guards lifting their rifles to the side as well. She drew mana from her electric core like she did to coat her blade but this time, she pulled a lot of it. A lot. Almost half of her reserves were drained in a single instant as an unseen charge of power gathered around her extended digits. When she felt ready, she pushed.

Nestra knew how lightning worked but the way she perceived it was different. A terrible excess formed on the chest of the assassin, an abundance that warped the world around it while an equally dreadful longing remained at Nestra’s fingertips. It was more than electrons, it was an imbalance in the mana of the world that absolutely must be corrected. At this precise instant, Nestra was no longer in control. The spell was cast. The imbalance was here. Now, it would be corrected, and neither Nestra, nor any creature here, nor perhaps even Shinran could stop it from happening.

BOOM.

The two points linked and lightning was made. It was black at its core and gray in the shockwave of superheated air exploding outward. It was loud, deafeningly so, and it was powerful, unexpectedly so.

The gray spell obliterated the assassin, the guards, the walls, and Nestra’s eardrums. It seared a memory in her cornea she would carry all her life, one of wonder and of vertigo before a force she guided rather than controlled. It also sent her careening against unyielding brick in a shower of debris and body parts.

“Ow!”

The bells of every church in threshold decided that now was a good time for a concerto. Nestra propped herself up and failed, then she tried again. No time to be distracted. Had made enough mistakes already. Couldn’t let her guard down.

“Ow. Ok. Not in enclosed space. Noted.”

Stumbling, she raced to grab her sword and a smattering of needles dropped by the dead assassin while she was at it. Had to make some distance. Bleeding now. Couldn’t hear properly either.

Nestra shook her head and walked at a sedate pace, careful to check all her corners. There were no more pools of darkness which meant that the three assassins were probably it. Most likely. Her hearing returned after a minute or two and the bleeding slowed down as well but she still stopped in a corner to apply some basic potions.

It was good to be prepared.

With the bleeding stopped, Nestra took a look at the wounds. Gray skin closed over the vanishing gashes. They were already itching. Only her arm was still painful but it had been run through and a slow move proved it could work without issue. In front of her, stomping noises announced the coming of another patrol.

“Alright.”

Nestra changed tactics. Rather than killing everything methodically, she went through the formation like a hot knife through butter, only reversing at the end for another pass. That way, there was always a guard between herself and other guards. It worked really well. She only wished she could spend more time killing the dervishes so she could study their movements. After that, her path led her to another section of the maze.

This one was a sort of barracks with narrow cots and lockers. Some rooms looked like charging stations with strange fluids leaking from unraveling cords while others were kennels, some still hosting baying pale hounds she killed anyway. A mess occupied the center of the place with vats of bubbling food sitting against the wall. They smelled vile and didn’t look much better so Nestra regrettably left them alone. The kitchen wasn’t inspiring either. All the ingredients came in discolored bricks with solid parts frozen in them, some looking like maggots.

Disappointing.

Nestra hit the jackpot when she found three dervishes in a tiny training room.

“Aaaah, finally.”

The creatures threw themselves at her, each one hampering the other by being in the way, so Nestra killed two using her superior strength before engaging the last one. She let the survivor charge her in a twisting hurricane of blades, pushing it back with measured slices. A momentum back led to the dervish rushing forward, closing the distance and leaving a shallow slice on her leg. She kicked it away and it charged back. Nestra countered with a thrust which the dervish failed to stop.The wound gave it pause, but only for an instant. It simply charged again.

The pattern repeated a couple of times. Nestra was disappointed to see that her foe was more programmed than trained. She killed it quickly after that. She also checked the blades. They looked pretty sharp to be able to cut into her skin so she recovered a few.

Her exploration continued. The patrols were growing rare now, and the corridors more familiar. Nestra was still careful, just in case there was another surprise, but the worst had passed. The next section opened on a large room with a table at its center. A tall, bipedal creature with a large head stood up from a large chair and shot at her. Momentum let her dive to the side and then she killed him before it could reload. It didn’t offer much resistance but she still got a sizable portion of power from his body. Her mind felt keener, faster.

“Oh, you’re the commander of the base.”

She considered keeping the sidearm and eventually decided to do so as a trophy. Not like this place had been very fruitful food wise. Errrr, loot wise. She found the exit portal behind that room. It was already opened, with two crystals and some weird stones she recognized as exotic magnets. Not useful to her but they would fetch a nice price on the black market.

There was one section of the maze she’d not explored yet. She was tempted to do so. Very much tempted.

Fuck it, it would be lost when the world collapsed. Had to see it.

Nestra retraced her step and found a winding, circular set of stairs going up. It took a few minutes to reach the end, during which the explosions she’d first heard grew louder and more powerful. Finally, she found herself in what had to be an observation post doubling as a bunker.

It was also the end of the portal world, as told by the waves she felt in the fabric of reality. Come to think of it, they were a little like a portal.

The air smelled dry and rancid here. A warm wind carried an acidic stench she could not recognize under a roiling sky of sickly yellow clouds. Explosions sent plumes of smoke barely visible above a hazy cloud of dust, but sometimes their lights could be seen as ephemeral flashes in the grimy air. Distant shapes rushed away, sometimes small and humanoid and sometimes much, much larger, titans of flesh carrying weapons on their backs.

There was an uncountable amount of them. Nestra stayed for five minutes and the tide of flesh never ceased. It was a multitude sent to assault a force beyond what she could see and she knew in her heart this was a real place. This was really happening.

Placing her hand against the end of the portal world, she peered through the void to spot the opposite side and her fingers, very slowly, sank in.

She pulled back with a gasp.

That was how she went through portals. By pushing through. But then… But no, she couldn’t try. What if she got stuck there in that hellscape with no way back? That was far too dangerous.

A little spooked, Nestra made her way back to the exit portal and back into the real world.

It was rare when she got to think that Threshold smelled pleasant. The warehouse apparently harbored a collection of antique pieces of furniture, probably pre-incursion. Plastic sheets wrapped around veneered panels in a protective gaze. The smell of old wood permeated the place. As usual, there was a letter and this time, it came with a fine prize.

“A Kero nut!”

Whatever place this thing came from, the benefactor had clearly decided to return there. That was perhaps why they’d been absent for three days? She munched the treat with great gusto before unpacking the letter. Ah, Kero nuts, a balm to her soul. What made them so tasty anyway?

“Little Nezhra!

Well done tonight. As you can see, the training wheels are off and the next worlds will be harder first sphere worlds, or D-class as the humans say. It is necessary to prepare you for the future. You are going to need strength soon.

Remember, when you reach the second sphere, I will tell you what you want to know. Until then, trust me when I say this is the safest option.

I am looking forward to seeing you face to face!”

There were two hastily written notes next to the main body that showed that the benefactor was somehow keeping an eye on her.  To Nestra, it just reeked of a lack of preparation.

“Little Nezhra, it appears I need to talk about ‘hubris’ now rather than later. It is the drive to win perfectly. It is what pushes you to give yourself a handicap so you can experience the enemy fully rather than just win. I will not tell you not to explore and fight on your own terms. One cannot defy their nature. Just keep in mind that this is how we die.”

Huh. But it did make sense to fight the dervish one on one to see its limit in case there was something to learn, right? How else was she supposed to make progress?

That was normal, no?

Nestra frowned. She had some thinking to do. The last piece of text had very obviously been added at the last minute.

“Little Nezhra. DO NOT CROSS INTO OTHER WORLDS NOW. DO NOT DO IT. You are not ready at all and I may not be able to follow you.”

Ah.

So, she could really cross into the other worlds. That brought its own host of questions but like most things, she was too weak for it to matter. The world was vast and Nestra was small. That was how things were, for now, but she would change that. First, going out would be a good idea.

3.7

Right, so, she was a prisoner here. She could break through but there was one power she knew she needed, had needed, and now there was an opportunity to get it. Nestra sat down on the ground and rested her back against a commode as old as her mom. She closed her eyes and focused. It was  a familiar exercise, though she’d stopped practicing when it had become clear she didn’t have a core.

Nestra sunk into herself. Soon, she was in her mind palace. A quick visit showed she’d gained toxin resistance but little else resilience wise. Possibly a secondary gift from the assassins. What interested her were the spheres orbiting over the still shallow pool of mana.

Power was still her strongest asset, closely followed by speed. She noticed that every sphere pulsed now. They were also slightly larger and higher in the sky, fed by the death energies of her victims. She counted seven in total. Each represented an attribute: power, celerity, resilience which covered regeneration apparently, awareness, mind speed, and two basic attributes of magic: control and generation. Interestingly, mana reserves were represented by the pool of water under her feet. It was fine, that was just an image in her mind. What interested her was the bond between them and the new one she felt was ready.

While binding power and celerity had led to momentum and celerity and awareness had led to precision, the ability she needed now the most was… traversal. It was an integral part of how she would survive in this walled city where locks and bars ruled to protect mankind. Or what was left of it. With a smile, Nestra linked her awareness with mana control for what she knew was an inborn gray demon ability.

Nestra placed her hand against the wall. It was cold and unyielding, a concrete pillar holding the structure together. And then, it was not. Or rather, Nestra was no longer so unyielding, but swimming through a different substrate of reality.

And then she was outside. It was like pushing through a membrane.

She would call it passe-muraille. The walker-through-walls. Now she could avoid cameras and walls. Demon Nestra was going to get her first outing soon enough. The only thing she needed was a target.

She put on her mask and walked back to her bike and her burner phone, which had seventeen missed calls. From Gorge. The latest was from five minutes before.

He picked up before the phone could ring.

“Hey!”

“What’s going on?”

“Shit, you don’t owe me anything and all but… it’s about the spear you sold.”

“What about it?”

“The… the buyer. They want to talk to you. They have my son.”

“Ooh. Targets.”

“What?”

“When?”

“Right goddamn now. Look, you don’t have to come. But…”

“I’m coming. But I have conditions.”

“Anything.”

“Ok, here is what I need.”

***

Gorge was pale as a ghost. He wasn’t normally half as colorful as his language but this time, the white of his skin betrayed how absolutely terrified he was. His second son sat on the driver’s seat, anxious though he hid it well. The interior of the van smelled of old leather and fresh sweat, the scent titillating human Nestra’s nose in a curious way. A part of her wondered if the benefactor would let her do it. Considering they’d not made their move yet, it seemed she would be allowed to reveal her dual nature to Gorge, at least.

She wondered what would happen if the benefactor just materialized out of thin air to kill them all but it wasn’t like she could let Gorge’s son die, and that was what was at stake here.

“Explain,” she ordered.

“Look, the guy who bought the spear, his pit fighter went mad. He knew it might happen. He made a shit ton of money in the arena thanks to that artifact we sold, but he’s also a cunt who always gets his way. So he got my son wanting to talk to you and… I imagine he wants compensation. Look, this guy, he’s mundane like us. Like me, I mean, but he got gleams working for him. And borg muscle.”

“Aug muscle.”

“For fuck’s sake. Fine. Aug muscle if you insist. Look, those guys…”

“Take and take. Meet in person with him?”

“Yeah. I’m to bring you.”

“Mind if I, ah, make it clear I’m not to be contacted?”

Gorge gave her a measuring look.

“As I said, he’s going to have muscle. If you think you can handle them, sure but… it’s gleams, Nestra, and not the nerdy researchers kind, yeah?”

“Got it. Give me the gear.”

“Here it is. Bodysuit as requested. It can expand too. But, ah, one meter ninety-five? You sure?”

“Mask?”

“Here. It will meld to your features the first time you wear it. Quite costly.”

“Take it off my tab.”

“Get my son out of this and it’s free. And you’ll have my gratitude as well.”

Gorge turned serious. He was sweating.

“I’m serious, Palladian. I may be an old cunt but I respect the deal. You don’t owe me shit. Save my boy and I’ll be on your side till Riel himself crawls back from hell to finish off the dregs.”

“I’ll do what I can. Need to get changed.”

“You, uh, change shape or something? Is that your quirk?”

Nestra smirked.

“The less you know…”

“The better. Off you go, we’re on a schedule.”

Nestra left the van, retreating inside of a deserted section of the abandoned parking lot Gorge had selected for the meeting. This was it. She pulled off her Mask. Her true form appeared.

The skin thing was good but it didn’t cover enough. Yet. Her forearms and calves were exposed, and though her body had proven resilient, her skin was too gray, too strange. Too inhuman. The bodysuit would cover every inch of skin while the mask would completely hide her features save for her eyes and hair. Even the horns would look like part of the design. She put everything on. It felt… stifling. Wrong. But also protective.

Thus anonymous, she walked back into the van.

“Got glitches on the—”

Gorge’s face made an ‘o’ of surprise. Nestra believed it was the first time she saw the man truly shocked.

“Palladian?”

True Nestra gave him a curt nod, then she sinuously pushed herself into the tiny vehicle. Well, it wasn’t tiny, but it certainly felt cramped now.

“Go on, start the van,” Gorge said without blinking, then after the old thing started moving, he leaned forward.

“Nestra? That really you?”

Was it? Being here, seeing Gorge looking up to her with terror in his eyes and the acrid stench of his sweat, she felt peculiar. Still Nestra, though, so his question was easy to answer. She nodded in assent.

“Holy shit, I can tell why you haven’t revealed yourself yet. Don’t think I’ve seen a gleam with black eyes before. Heard about them though. Shit’s terrifying.”

He breathed out, then had one last look at her. Seeing she hadn’t jumped to tear his throat off, he recovered his focus.

“Ok, alright. Here’s the thing. The client’s name’s Rangi. Islander type. We gonna meet at his dive, a bar he uses as legit business or whatever. It will be past operating time at least. Security-wise, he got a husher type with minor augs, a borged killer with wired reflexes, and two gleams. Don’t know much about them except one of them’s rumored to be a raider and he uses a wand as a weapon.”

Nestra was familiar with wands. Mana could be channeled through them, sending powerful bolts at the enemy. It was a useful sidearm for caster-types operating on low mana. Not sure how good a hired goon would perform though.

“Shouldn’t have anything else defense-wise but there will be cameras and everything. I can’t scramble them without him thinking, you know…”

Nestra dismissed his concerns with a wave.

“Ok, so we’ll be brought before him. Act as you see fit. Rangi’s a smart guy, he will probably cut and run if things get too dicey for him. He’s a businessman smelling an affair. Just, need a reminder. Having gleams at his beck and call might have given him delusions of grandeur so he thinks he can push people around. Dumbass is just asking for it.”

Nestra nodded. She agreed. This Rangi guy was pulling at a rope to see what would drop but it was a shit idea because if the rope provided artifacts, then what would drop would most likely be a pissed off gleam. Gleams did plenty of biz on the side and a lot of it was picked up by monitoring AI but no one ever did anything. Smart people knew it wasn’t worth it, not unless it got really bad. Like human trafficking. Even then, you never dealt with the gleam. You dealt with their boss gleam and you hoped they applied discipline with a firm hand. That Rangi guy was, and she was sorry to say that, courting death. If not by her, by someone else.

It took twenty long minutes for the van to reach its destination. The bar was a nice place at the edge of a busy entertainment zone in twenty-five, a brick building she would have driven by without a care. The van parked at a good distance and Gorge made sure to deploy drones just in case someone decided to nab his other son. Nestra followed Gorge who nervously looked at her every ten steps. It was annoying. They moved around the corner until the back entrance came into view.

A colossal islander stood there with a taut suit that had to be a custom job. Tattoos covered his cheeks and chin, but when he spotted the pair, he made the same ‘o’ as Gorge had done before.

Nestra was starting to think maybe this was a mistake, that she couldn’t pass for human even without showing anything but her eyes and her hair, but she realized what was wrong when she got closer. Gorge had told her the husher was an aug, more specifically, his eyes were augments. He couldn’t see her well because they were glitching. She heard him bumble something into his ear piece, something about a scrambler.

Gorge stopped at a distance, waiting for the signal to go on. The bouncer waited for instructions with a confused frown, his optics searching around Nestra’s location. Eventually, the signal to go in was given and Nestra followed Gorge up a flight of narrow stairs. Cameras followed their progress in the cramped back of the drinking hole. Cans of beer and bottles lined the wall but upstairs, the place was clean and austere. A large security door stood at the end of a hall. Nestra noticed a maglock, reinforced steel and even a manual slit in case electronics failed. The only thing missing was a gun port. It would be easier to go through the walls and she might just do that.

The door opened without a prompt. Gorge came first, then he slid to the side to let her through. There were five people waiting for her in a spacious, cozy office and lounge. A wired goon leaned at the back with his auged arms exposed. Nestra recognized a Brightcorp security construct. Man had a gun in there. There were also two gleams on either side of the main desk, one muscle-bound girl with no affinities yet, and the wand wielder sitting in a chair with his arms crossed, actinic blue eyes following her with morbid fascination. The second to last person was Gorge’s son wearing a shock collar around his throat, near the back. Rangi himself sat enthroned behind the magnificent desk like a king holding court. A nice pseudo-cashmere suit clung to his chiseled physique. He exuded a debonair aura that complimented his cool chin tattoo and the shock collar control resting next to his hand. Very smooth. Nestra immediately hated him.

Nestra’s looted spear rested on a pedestal at the back of the room. Congealed blood still clung to its surface.

All five people displayed various degrees of unease, from concern in the gleams’ eyes to stark terror for Gorge’s kid. The boss was the first to react but Nestra barely heard him. She kept walking forward.

She wasn’t here to negotiate.

“Ah, here you are. I have called here because of issues with your—”

Nestra kept on. Rangi faltered. The gleams moved first, not least because the aug was clearly running diagnostics.

Nestra used momentum to appear between the gleams as they were standing. She struck the muscle girl in the face with an open palm. Her nose crunched painfully. She went flying.

Nestra twisted and kicked the other gleam in the face as he reached for his wand. Electricity coursed through her leg but failed to affect her. He cried in pain and collapsed backward, chair and all. Meanwhile, the first gleam collided with the confused aug just as she’d planned. Nestra took no chances. In three steps she was next to the cyborg. She drew and struck with a mana-coated blade. His severed arm went flying. She used momentum to return to the table, drew her gun, and gently shoved it against Rangi’s forehead.

The aug and muscle gleam pair finished collapsing. The wand gleam landed on the carpet with a shriek of dismay. Rangi gasped, his hand stopping near the collar’s remote.

Nestra leaned forward until the darkness of her eyes met Rangi’s own. She was pretty sure the message was coming across loud and clear. He still didn’t talk. A quick tongue wet his lip while he searched for a solution. Slowly, his goons were picking themselves up. The muscle girl glared at Nestra but the effect was ruined by her blood-soaked face.

Perhaps Nestra should say something? Yes, but why was she so reluctant to do so?

And then it hit her.

For all her little phrases and exclamations of dismay in portal worlds, she’d never really been paying attention to her words. All this time, she hadn’t been speaking English. She’d used that strange tongue the benefactor used to talk to her. And now, she had to use English in her demon form and it felt… wrong. A little demeaning. And besides, her mouth was larger, and not exactly the same shape, and her teeth were too sharp and her tongue too narrow, and this was just, ugh! Frustrating. Bah, had to force herself.

What to say?

Oh, yes.

Nestra’s voice came out with a much lower pitch yet still feminine. It was hers, but more hissy and a little guttural.

“No. Refund. Hssss.”

There.

“I see,” Rangi replied.

He looked around, calculating. Nestra shoved the barrel of her gun a little harder.

“No need! No need for things to go, ah, out of hand. It appears I have… erred in judgment. Forgive me, miss…?”

Nestra declined to introduce herself. She let him know by narrowing her eyes.

“Right. You have been… most clear, I say. I appreciate the show of restraint, yes. I will now reach for the remote to free your friend, if that is alright?”

Nestra took a step back. Without looking, she pointed her sword at the electric gleam who was slowly reaching for his wand.

“Now now, Mr Blue, there is no need to alarm our guest!” Rangi said with a politician’s smile.

“Let us just… put this whole thing behind us, yes? Good. Theeeeere we go. All free.”

“Come, boy. Come here,” Gorge whispered.

His son didn’t have to be asked twice. They left the room, though Nestra heard whispered words of assurance just behind the door. She knew she could get more money but that felt… like it would complicate matters. Better to leave now with the upper hand and her objectives accomplished. There was no need for her to utter more threats. Her appearance and manners spoke for themselves.

Actually, there was one last thing she wanted to try.

As she stepped back towards the entrance still facing the threat, she pointed two fingers towards her eyes, then two towards Rangi who raised his hands in surrender just as his muscles were picking themselves up.

“No need, you have been abundantly clear.”

Nestra left. Gorge returned to serious mode all the way out, with the bouncer giving them a wide berth. They didn’t talk when they climbed into the van, nor during the return trip. Gorge only let go of his son to grab a datasheet when they were parked.

“Right. Tracker check. Covering frequencies now.”

They waited until Gorge was satisfied there were no secret gifts on either them or his kid, then tension left him. He deflated, collapsing against the side of the van with a loud thump. He picked a flask from a side pocket then reconsidered. Only then did his attention return to Nestra.

“Hooooly shit Palladian. I thought you could, I dunno, clear easy portals with a quirky trick but… Riel, you tossed those gleams like they were children. I’ve never seen anything like it. In real life, I mean.”

Nestra didn’t want to talk in demon form. She pointed at her mask, then outside. Gorge nodded and let her go.

It was the first time her human form felt better than the demon one. Truly, that bodysuit constrained her too much.

“Ok, I’m back.”

“You did amazing out there. I owe you. I owe you big time. But I gotta ask. You’re clearly… at gleam level or something. Why? Why not just return to your family and claim your legacy?”

Nestra lifted an eyebrow. Like Gorge couldn’t see the problem?

“No, seriously. You wouldn’t be the only weird gleam in existence. I read just yesterday they’d discovered a sort of void element gleam.”

“Yeah, that’s my sister.”

“But still, I mean, that transformed appearance of yours is scary and no mistake but, you know? You could be who you always wanted to be.”

Nestra had actually not considered this.

If she were to go public, it would be clear that people would have questions and those questions would turn into invasive procedures whether she wanted to or not. It was also clear that some people would figure out she wasn’t human and that would lead to her premature death, so there had never been a real question about coming out. That would be suicide. But what if it were not? What if she could just go back to her family and be welcomed as a weird yet powerful gleam, because Gorge was right, she was very powerful. Even if Rangi’s men were garbage, at least one of them had unlocked an affinity and that took some work, and yet she’d broken them like toys. They hadn’t stood a chance.

What if she could get in the Palladian manor through the grand entrance and be welcomed by her dad? Her mom would hug her and whisper she always believed in her. Ulysses and Helena would exchange barbs over morning bagels. It would be just like old times, before she went to high school, before she was revealed as a cripple. Wouldn’t it be nice to be welcome like that?

No, not really, right? Because it would be tainted by all her memories of being swept under the carpet. Because she would be stopped at every gleam store entrance, glared at in every gleam exclusive restaurant. She’d have to justify her existence at every turn. There would be snide remarks and sideway comments. And she knew. She knew what people thought of the baseline her. The new Nestra wasn’t working harder than the old one. In fact, new Nestra was sleeping quite a lot. No, her effort, personality, the skills she’d worked hard to obtain, none of them mattered as much as having shiny eyes. And even if she could reasonably get in, she wouldn’t fit in.

And that sucked, and the world sucked as well.

“I’m who I’ve always been. That’s it.”

“Well, not like it’s any of my biz. Ok, Palladian. You’re officially my favorite dead fish.”

“Couldn’t hold it back for more than five minutes, huh?”

“I’ll make it up to you. You’ll see. Anyway, drop you off?”

“Nah, I’ll take the whore bike back. Busy day tomorrow.”

“Let me know if you need more goodies for your crusade against Gidung. We can get real spicy if you want.”

“Oh, I will.”

Nestra wanted to leave the family to themselves and she was getting tired anyway. She drove to the Nestra cave as fast as she could. Only when she was back in her own car with the autopilot on did she relax. Her visor had a few alerts so she went over those, with her priority being Stib’s drones embedded in several strategic places of District Fifteen’s hab block. They’d detected movement, a lot of it.

Nestra frowned. It was a hab block. People moved at night, right? It was probably nothing? She selected the first link, the one aiming at the center courtyard and market. There was now a pole sitting in the middle of the deserted place. On that pole sat the decapitated head of chef Old Lin, and under that was a white board with the words ‘Friend of pigs’ written in angular letters.

“Motherfucker.”

Part 8

3.8

Nestra called it in immediately. Shinoda picked up after two minutes. He sounded exhausted but determined.

“I will be there in forty minutes, Palladian-san. Do you need me to pick you up?”

“Nah, I’m on my way by car. Meet you at the parking lot.”

“Be careful. They might be watching, and if they see you alone…”

“I know. Don’t worry.”

There were only two saving graces in this absolute shitshow. One, they’d noticed now instead of showing up fresh-faced at 9AM like a bunch of amateurish nitwits. Two, Nestra had several more drones around, which meant that they could have caught something. She browsed through the recordings while her real car sped on towards Fifteen. It was getting close to 5AM now which meant she was tired, but at least she’d slept some during twilight. Adrenaline and rage made her human heart pulse with a rigid staccato.

What kind of fucking scum of humanity killed a nice street cook to send a message? What manner of skid mark on the nasty knickers of humanity’s most degenerate could come up with this sort of plan and say, yeah, let’s do this? Old Lin was a nice guy, a fucking food provider. An artist!

She was going to kill them.

Nay, she was going to make an example out of them just like they’d made an example out of him. It was just a matter of finding them. After a cursory search, she did find shapes moving through a passage near the utility tunnels, a place she’d not been to yet. There were four of them. Augs, and not the lower shelf civilian ones. She clipped the vid and shared it with Shinoda. He replied with a ‘seen’ emote. Probably busy. She did get a call on her visor almost immediately after.

“This is officer Kim,” the cold voice said. “I will join you with a team. Only a few people but this is the best I can do.”

“Is it wise for you to show yourself?”

“I have officially been detached to Fifteen as a, ah, coordinator. My cover story will suffice considering we civil servants are always short-staffed. Compared to our workload, that is.”

“Ok. See you there.”

Waiting in the underground parking for ten minutes felt like some of the longest ten minutes of her life and she’d had open fractures. Only when Shinoda roared in with the cruiser did she send her car back home. It might be vandalized if it stayed.

“Palladian-san. We should secure the crime scene.”

“Ok. Give me a moment.”

A quick drone activation revealed a few heat signatures, mostly residents observing them from behind their windows. The hab block was already waking up. Nestra checked and double checked that there were no snipers lying in ambush. After a while, she gave the all-clear. If there was a guy out there with advanced camo and a rifle, they were fucked anyway. The pair of cops walked to the trophy carefully. This time, nothing happened.

“Lin-ojisan. We failed you,” Shinoda lamented.

He was apologetic but reverent when he checked for traps, then when he removed the head. Nestra was just keeping an eye out which let her see the very obvious trail of blood leading up the stairs.

“Follow this?”

“Chotto matte ne? Give me a second, yes?”

Nestra wanted to hunt but Shinoda wanted to follow procedure and she had to admit… he was probably doing a better job. The old detective placed the head in a body bag, then cordoned the area with an ease that spoke of experience. Old Lin’s eyes were closed and the head was covered, which felt a bit like a ritual and made Nestra a little less furious. The ball of anger instead cooled to an arctic bite that gnawed at her, urging her on with controlled rage.

The pair followed the trail with great care to an apartment with the door ajar. Someone had used a morphpick, a special break-in tool that molded into the shape of the key once inserted into a lock provided the lock wasn’t too complicated, which it wasn’t. Really expensive shit to kill an old man. Lin’s body was splayed on the living room’s floor over a pool of congealed blood. The cut on his neck was really clean, the sort made with an extremely sharp blade. At least, he hadn’t suffered. A police hover van landed in the courtyard while they secured the place.

A team of specialists came down to secure the place led by Kim who wore a field vest that made her look cool and professional. She didn’t wait for more than a second before pinging them.

“Report?”

“He was killed in his home. The perpetrators came from a passage leading to the utility tunnels. Perhaps they can be tracked down? At least, we would know where they came from,” Shinoda said.

“Then I have bad news. The body temperature indicates he died about two hours ago. That’s long enough to cross half the district on foot. The utility tunnels are a warren that expands to every nearby hab block, with multiple shelters in case of emergency. Storage space too. And we have reports that more facilities have been… dug by the gangs. We will likely not find whoever did this.”

“There might be more cameras down there,” Nestra mentioned.

“The local residents do not like cameras very much.”

“Ah, Kim-san. I understand what she means. Flash may have installed some security measures. Maybe.”

“We can ask,” Nestra said.

“I have his address,” Shinoda said. “Let’s go, Palladian-san.”

***

Nestra kept drumming on the door for three minutes without tiring. She knew someone was on the other side. Her finer senses had picked up the beeps of some old systems, probably cameras aiming at the door.

“Open up, I know you’re here,” she repeated.

“Fuck off!” a man’s voice finally said.

It didn’t belong to the man they sought.

“We need to talk to Flash. It’s important.”

“I said fuck off… or else!”

A thin robotic arm deployed from above the door. Someone had welded a low-intensity stun gun to the extremity, something Flash had done before and that Nestra had a strong opinion about.

“I’ll zap you!”

“Open. The. Damn. DOOR!”

The stun gun fired. Twin filaments hit Nestra’s military-grade Wellington insulated gear with nothing to show for it.

“So help me Riel I will tear off this thing and shove it up your flaccid—”

The door finally opened on a bare-chested youth displaying tattoos and abs. His thunderous brow glared downward — fucker was at least demon Nestra-sized.

“Lady, if you don’t piss off. Gun dan!”

“Old Man Lin is dead,” Shinoda said. “He was murdered. Mr Flash might be able to help us find who is responsible. I can see that you care for him, sir, but this is a decision he should make for himself,” Shinoda said in a soft voice.

The young man worried his lower lip as he considered the old detective’s request. Nestra took a step back and crossed her arms.

“Wait here. And you wait! No going in!”

He turned around into a cluttered hallway. A thick curtain blocked the access to the living room but not the sound, and Nestra picked up a pair of complaining female voices. Eventually, Flash whispered something. It took another minute for the strange man to approach, wearing his signature neon green suit.

“What’s that about Old Lin. You’re shitting me?”

“He was murdered as an example,” Shinoda said.

“For talking to us.”

“Shit and you come here in the middle of the night? Wah seh you asshole don’t care I’m a gone-case.”

“You have cameras in the utility tunnels,” Nestra said.

“It would be of great help to us if you could tell us what they saw. Old Lin didn’t deserve this. We have to act now or the hab block will suffer.”

“You mean your face will suffer.”

“This is not about our reputation,” Shinoda said sternly.

At the back, the muscled man returned, bulging arms crossed. He was clearly backing Flash up.

“This is about justice. A man helped us and he was killed for it. He didn’t deserve this and you know it. You also know that it’s an attack on you, and an attack on your block, by someone who wants to prove we are all weak. Now, you must decide if you sulk back in the shadows or if you show us all a straight back. You do not even have to leave your house but you have to help us. Please. Point us in the right direction.”

Flash licked his lips, his eyes going from Shinoda to Nestra. He was sweating.

He turned his attention to her.

“Old Lin gave me food, good food too. When I get my hand on them they’ll wish they were outside the walls instead,” she said.

“Ok, look. Okay. There are cameras near important places like the shelter and some storage rooms. I’ll check the footage. Give me your numbers and I’ll send you what I have. I promise.”

“We’ll head there right away.”

“And uh, can I ask? Please don’t tell people I live in a polycule?”

“Your secret is safe with us,” Shinoda assured.

“As if people didn’t know already,” Nestra mocked. “You think you’re being slick? It’s a fucking hab block. Everyone and their grandma knows it already.”

Flash wilted under her verbal assault. Even the guy behind him piled on.

“Told you already.”

“Yeah, and just like me, they possibly couldn’t give less of a shit,” Nestra concluded. “Get me those vids. I can’t fucking wait.”

***

Threshold was built on a maze of underground facilities. Between government-mandated shelters, arcologies, private storages and subways, there was enough below the surface to start a civilization, at least for a while, but District Fifteen had taken it a step further. Corridors expanded in every direction, some showing sheer rock instead of the ubiquitous concrete. Nestra was pretty sure they weren’t up to safety standards. The only concessions to common sense was that the support pillars were intact, and the lack of rooms large enough to host a portal, because portals did appear underground, and gangs didn’t have the means to stop a serious break. The result was an expanding labyrinth of small rooms and narrow passages only large enough for a single person at a time. Haphazardly placed lamps cast weak lights on rusty, pitted surfaces, those that were still working anyway. It would have been hell to navigate without her suit’s night vision and without a guide. Well, an audio guide.

“Passage left is a dead end. That place was dug by the XV gang, named because—”

“Of the roman numerals of Fifteen,” Nestra cut.

She checked the opening. Shinoda was left behind to cover the main corridor. He was still sulking after Nestra made it clear she would go first as the heavy hitter. So was Kim because Nestra had invited a civvie in the group call.

“Wah seh, you are such a wet blanket angmoh girl. You’ll never catch a boyfriend with that attitude.”

“Good.”

Nestra kept going. She didn’t like it. Too many blind angles, too many straight rooms with zero cover. Her only comforts were her drones and Flash acting as Stibs normally would, except his cameras were static and he was a whiny blabbermouth. Sometimes, glass crunched under Shinoda’s feet, making her wince.

“Camera ahead is deactivated,” Flash warned them.

Nestra stopped in her tracks. Behind her, Shinoda checked his gun again. It was a nice pistol with a silvery sheen, and she gave it a good fifty fifty chance that the bullets in there could actually stop an aug.

“What do you mean, deactivated? Since when?”

“Tonight. Checking footage aaaaaaand I don’t see shit. One moment, all good, the next, lights out.”

“What’s there?”

“Intersection tunnel to other hab blocks and a side passage to barracks. Gang barracks. They ought to be empty.”

“Okay.”

Nestra turned a bend in the passage and her little black box beeped. It was the one demon Nestra used to detect cameras.

“You said you have no visuals, right?” Nestra asked again.

“Yeah yeah.”

“Anyone else would have surveillance around?”

“No angmoh girl, this is our turf. XV left the barracks during the purge and we, ah, liberated their stuff. Nothing left.”

Nestra finally reached the mentioned intersection. Two tunnels spread out to her left and right for dozens of meters, their surface completely clear. Steel tracks met in the middle, the defunct remains of the train system that let emergency services carry goods across the city. What tickled Nestra’s interest was a large archway dug at an angle, a destroyed security door blocking the path half-heartedly. Someone had melted the lock. The sheer rock beyond was even more raw and uneven than before but Nestra spotted support beams and enough cables for a good installation. The lights were live and the air smelled faintly of oil and superheated metal. A recent smell. She suspected Shinoda might not be able to pick it up, but instead, he kneeled by the entrance and pointed at what Nestra thought was dust but turned out to be wet soil.

“Tracks. Hours old at most. Mud here, still not dried out.”

“Looks like the barracks were revived,” Nestra muttered.

Kim spoke, and this time her voice carried more concern than mild disapproval.

“Right, there is a decent chance those are our culprits. I’m calling our user squad and putting an end to this operation. The purge left plenty of weapons caches and secondary bases intact, and many gangers escaped the net. Although Nestra’s images are not clear, I believe we may be facing heavily augmented opposition and this could be their base. You will stay put until reinforcements arrive.”

Nestra looked up to see a camera near the entrance, a recent one as well. It was a different model than the cheap shit Flash used. Just like the morphpick, the augs were using high end stuff typically only afforded to corpo security.

A part of her knew they were in way over their heads. When Nestra faced the gangs, she’d been with her team, wearing MaxSec armor and fighting from an entrenched position. This was her in discount gear and an aging detective with a solid aim (according to his file) and no tactical training to speak of. That part was the human side of Nestra understanding her situation from an outside perspective.

Demon Nestra wanted to get at it. She wanted to jump on the prey and tear them to pieces. Bring their heads back as an example. She would tear the chrome they were so proud off from their limbs and shove it in their tender bellies while their friends watched.

The last part of her wondered what the fuck the gangers were thinking. No smart criminal would commit a crime so close to their base without covering their tracks better. They’d smashed Flash’s camera and thought it was enough? What, they were expecting him to be terrified?

Actually, that made a lot of sense.

“Help!” a voice said from the entrance. Male. Panicked.

Nestra and Shinoda exchanged a glance, weapons raised.

“Heeeelp! Please, help!”

Nestra was pretty sure the opposition knew they were here.

It was most likely a trap.

“Don’t go,” Kim said. “It’s a ruse. Someone is trying to lure you in.”

“You know I cannot do that,” Shinoda said.

“Yuuji, that’s an order.”

“I’m sorry, Kim-san. You cannot call me Yuuji and pull rank in the same sentence.”

Kim let out a strange, strangled sound that made even a notoriously oblivious Nestra suspect there might be something between the two. Not that it mattered right now. Threshold police officers were sworn to help people in danger. Honor and legal consequences demanded that they intervened.

“Miss Palladian, please share your drone feedback with Mr Flash. Mr Flash, please kindly provide oversight. You will be rewarded for your time.”

“You two are going in? You siao lah! Crazy! It’s a trap!”

Nestra ignored the complaints. She allowed Flash to take over ‘Nestraguard.exe’ despite her misgivings. Kim was right. She would need all her attention.

“Okay, listen up. The corridor turns left ahead and there are two doors. Right leads to storage. Left leads to living quarters and armory. Both doors are closed. Locked tight.”

Nestra moved carefully. The ground was dirty, though not overly cluttered. She winced when Shinoda’s foot hit a stone.

Something shone in her night vision. She lowered herself to find a proximity device of some sort. Laser-triggered. She pointed it at a paling Shinoda. The corridor ahead led to a wall with a door on either side.

“Angmoh, you got someone running fast towards you from the back! Shit, he’s sprinting. Oh fuck! I… I think it’s too late to run!”

The handle of the left door turned.

Trap: sprung.

3.9

Think fast.

Nestra grabbed two EMPs from her breast pocket. Using the shortest timer, she threw one at her back, towards the entrance and the second in front of her.

“Cover me,” she told Shinoda.

She didn’t check. She knew he had her back.

And she would have the front.

Nestra’s human mask might be… not the most adequate, but that was fine. Just another challenge, just another hunt. She would win against the augs and she would do it with her barely-above-baseline shell and that would prove she was simply better. Better trained, better prepared, better made. Adrenaline pumped in her veins. Excitement filled her chest. Her legs propelled her forward as the door finished opening. An aug arm wielding a Bright Tech 10mm sweeper with a datalink pointed its muzzle. The aug didn't have to see her in person. The embedded camera would feed her flushed face directly into his retina and he would merely have to pull the trigger, then Nestra would be Ex-stra.

Half a second.

The first EMP detonated. The aug gun shook, resetting. Three seconds to restart, give or take. Nestra sprinted by the door and landed in shooting position. The aug was cursing and tapping his gun. His optics glitched. He was a tall man with messy hair and a stubble under the helmet. She calmly lifted Gorge’s hand cannon and lined it up center mass. A second aug behind the first swore.

“Move, you—”

Nestra pulled the trigger. Immense recoil pushed her back, despite her excellent posture. The mana infused bullet carved a hole in the aug’s chest through layers of kevlar, and took the shoulder of the man behind him. She was rushing forward while he fell. Another shot took the second man’s head off. Behind him, she saw cots and lockers, half open, and a third man. She picked up details as she moved forward. A sheathed blade on his right hip. A shotgun, not linked, in his left hand. Aimed at her.

The knife was a monoblade.

He was the one who’d decapitated Old Lin.

Nestra sprinted forward again. She picked up the second guy’s falling body just as an impact shook his frame. Heavy. She could carry him for a step at most.

She let herself fall. Another explosion mangled the body, but she was ready. She shot… and missed. The aug had jumped to the side. Wired reflexes. Fast. There was an issue though, for him. It could only predict what the guy’s optics picked up. As the second body fell on her, she shot through it.

Her last bullet could not be predicted by the guy’s augments. It shredded the shotgun, the man’s left arm, and parts of the wall behind. Her hand hurt like hell. Pushing the body with her feet, she raced at the survivor just as it unsheathed his blade. Her sword met his knife in a clash of steel. She confirmed it was a monowire stiletto. Really, really sharp.

“Wo cao!”

Fifty thousand volts traveled up her blade and down the guy’s implants. Something fried, but he wasn’t done. She blocked a kick but was sent backward. Meanwhile, the guy was left staring at her mana blade.

“Mono won’t cut that,” she mocked. “Try skill.”

He lunged forward, and Nestra was forced back by a lightning-fast jab. She had the reach and the technique, but the aug had pre-recorded movements he could just activate at will. This led to an uneven fight where her foe would in turn stumble like an amateur and strike like a master with superhuman speed. Block left and right, counter. The man jumped back off balance.

“Gidung patterns, basic version.”

“I’ll carve you up, you dog.”

Another pattern she recognized. Step back and sweep a lunge, thrust. The shocks on her blade, it was like fighting a machine, and she was holding on. A smile bloomed on her lips.

The man interrupted the pattern and struck awkwardly. Her counter pierced through his chest armor as his blade slid along her forearm, drawing blood. He withdrew with a curse. There was blood on her sword, but also on his blade.

“Got you bitch,” the man spat, and Nestra realized he didn’t notice his wound. A discarded inhaler on a nearby table confirmed her suspicions.

Guy was high as fuck.

“There is an interesting thing with prerecorded patterns,” Nestra teased.

A few steps forward, fast jabs, the aug retaliated in a similar manner.

“Can’t handle…”

Nestra lunged and then swept hard from right to left.

The damaged aug’s arm lifted to block while his knife arm pulled back for a devastating gut jab. Nestra’s sword flew through the space where his left hand would have been if he still had one.

Her sweep caught him in the temple with a ghastly crunch. He stopped moving.

The monoblade dropped from his spasming fingers. It dug into the concrete below like the world’s saddest Excalibur.

“... damage assessment.”

A surge of power, and of triumph, filled her with pleasure. The chaos of dust and the deafening gunshots coming from behind became more muted, or rather, she was able to hear them without them interfering with her hearing. Although, the Wellington helmet helped.

Wait, gunshots.

With a swear, Nestra sprinted back into the corridor. She slotted one bullet back in her gun. Shinoda was walking back into the corridor while applying covering fire. Nestra could see the muzzle of a linked gun around the corner leading back into the main path. Shinoda’s steady aim was forcing the person back but he was running out of ammo.

“DOWN!”

Shinoda did so without question. Nestra lined the shot.

She wondered if the handgun could shoot through walls.

Wait no, she wondered how far through the wall it could pierce.

She pulled the trigger. The damn thing bucked in her hands but it took the gun, parts of the wall, and an auged arm along with it. A female voice cursed in Vietnamese. Nestra reloaded then she approached the corner.

“She legged it, angmoh girl,” Flash said.

“Oh, good.”

“Next time you use EMP, warn a bother hor? Half your drones got fried.”

“Kind of busy down here?”

“But shit angmoh girl you’re a MACHINE. Waaaaah seh. Underground fights, can or not? I know a guy.”

Kim’s voice rang in. She was not amused.

“Mr Xun, you will refrain from suggesting illegal activities to our agents, thank you very much. The footage of this incident is now classified and you WILL not distribute it or I will personally make sure you are sent to the Red House for the next ten years. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

“Yeah yeah. Calm down already.”

Nestra still checked the corner. No presence but… there was a tiny trail of blood.

Nice, an opening… for later.

Meanwhile Shinoda reloaded. He looked unhurt.

“You in one piece, oji-san?”

“No need for sass Palladian-san. I regret to say that my adversary was too armored for a fair fight. Your EMP helped. It was enough to teach her caution, but not enough to neutralize her.”

“We’ll get you a better gun,” Nestra said, and she meant it.

“What’s that thing called anyway?” Flash asked. “Oh, is it the Wallfucker?”

“Why do you breeders always link everything back to sex?” Nestra grumbled.

But she had to admit she liked the wall idea.

“I’ll call it the Window Maker.”

“We are not done,” Shinoda said.

He was covering the corridor, more specifically the storage room which they had not secured yet. Nestra nodded as she finished reloading. Taking great care not to trigger the trap, they went to the last door. A quick camera check showed the place wasn’t booby-trapped. It also looked empty. Shinoda picked the lock under Nestra’s befuddled gaze then they got in. The storage space was mostly empty and quite dusty. No one had been there in a week.

“Clear. No hostage,” Nestra said.

“I had to make sure, although I suspect Kim-san was correct. We were baited by one of the gangers.”

“Yes.”

Nestra wondered if she should say something. Shinoda was standing there, waiting for her judgment. The truth was that if it had been any other cop instead of Nestra, this could have turned into a disaster. Flash had the right to it. Not everyone could just stop four augs without dying, even bottom of the barrels junkies like those guys. It was clear Kim expected Shinoda to pull some stupid shit like going in for honor in defiance of his screaming brain cells. It was also clear to Nestra that she wasn’t bound by the same suicidal tendencies.

But she didn’t really mind.

“Your, ah, Window Maker? It does not look like a regulation gun,” Shinoda observed.

“No.”

“And the grenades?”

“Also no.”

“Hmm. Omoshiroi. Interesting, that is.”

“Neither are the drones or my armor set.”

“Hmm. Your preparedness is impressive. I think I owe you my life, Palladian-san.”

“Hey, we are partners, right?”

“Aibo? Yes. You are the best bad cop I have ever worked with.”

“Ok, good, enough of that you’ll give me diabetes. Let’s go.”

But they didn’t go because they had to secure the scene and fill online reports and do a shitload of other procedure things normal cops had to do that MaxSec teams just left to their admins, and in the name of all that was holy did Nestra miss those little scribblers. With the adrenaline leaving her, she was also crashing down hard and on top of that, she was getting hungry. And she was tired. It was getting close to six out there.

Ten minutes after the pair got in and while Kim’s techs were busy loading the bodies, a trio of gleams finally strutted down the tunnel up in full gear. Compared to augs, gleam armor looked more medieval than modern but they were more resilient anyway. Nestra unfortunately recognized the assholes before they could even speak. Those were the twats who’d met them in the garage.

“It took you eight minutes to arrive,” Kim mentioned in an arctic voice.

The gangly anglo gleam shrugged, vibrant iris twinkling with amusement.

“We were on the other side of the area of operation. All records will show that we moved immediately. It’s just that…”

“Traffic,” the thickset gleam said as he nodded to himself.

“This place was hard to find, ajumma,” the Korean gleam added with a sly smile. “underground, not on the map. You know how it is.”

Officer Kim went very pale. Nestra wasn’t too familiar with Korean culture but she was definitely sure the gleam had insulted her, somehow. She might be a baseline but she was also a civil servant and the gleam was a low level security personnel. Definitely lower status. They really didn’t give a shit, huh?

“I see. The city appreciates your… efforts. I am sure you have done to the best of your abilities, although you were… inadequate to the task.”

Tension rose between Kim and the trio to the extent that the techs stopped working to steal a glance. The barest hint of a sneer twisted Kim’s perfectly neutral persona into one of profound disgust. If condescension could be bottled, that woman would be rich.

“You may leave, since we have seen the limits of your usefulness. Thank you,” she dismissed them.

Rather than facing them off, Kim simply turned around to work on her report. Nestra followed suit, and the three gleams were left standing around with nothing to do. It still took them a few seconds to head off. By then, Kim was back to her business self. At least in appearance. Nestra didn’t miss the tension on her shoulders. For most baselines, there was something unsettling about confronting gleams. Nestra didn’t know if baselines just felt mana in their subconscious or if there was something in the brain that acknowledged that gleams were just that dangerous, even the weaker ones.

“The bodies are ready for transport,” one of the techs said. “Should we move the vehicle to a more secluded area?”

“No,” Nestra interrupted. “We carry them back to the marketplace. Let people see.”

Kim hesitated until Shinoda intervened.

“Palladian-san is correct. We are working with a tribal structure. Let the people know that what we cannot protect, we can avenge. Those are the murderers of Old Lin. Let them see that… justice was done. Of a sort. This will show our goodwill more than any shipments of supplies ever will.”

“This is a harsh place,” Kim mumbled. “Very well. We will do as you say. There is not much to learn here anyway.”

It was a strange procession that left the utility tunnels, and a stranger one that received them still. Men, women and children of the hab block lined the path to the hover truck in solemn ranks, some dressed in finery and others wearing makeup and, in one instance, face paint. Lin’s body bag was covered in flowers and trinkets and no matter that there were no florists around. Someone had woven a wreath out of colorful ropes and cables and finished the work with carefully applied glass beads. Behind the mass of people, someone sang a mournful dirge.

An expectant mood moved the crowd while the tech loaded the bodies, and when they moved in themselves. Kim was the last one to climb in. Under the pale light of early dawn, she looked a little rough around the edges. The signs of mental exhaustion were plain, not in her flawless makeup or the perfect hairdo, but in the pockets under her eyes, the clenched jaw, the details that made her seem more human now, so far out of her element.

“Are you sure you want to stay? I’m giving you half a day off. By regulation, you should be out for three days at least while Internal Affairs goes over the details of the shooting.”

“We will probably head back early but… we need to hammer the steel while it is hot, ne? Thank you, Kim-san.”

“Please be careful,” she replied, then after a blink. “You too, Palladian. I… knew I could count on you.”

Nestra nodded. The hover truck left soon after, gliding over the morning air. It started to smell pretty good.

“We should walk around, Palladian-san.”

“Yes.”

“Hey, you! Police girl!” a woman said.

Nestra recognized her as the prim lady who’d refused her naan the day before on account of not doing business with pigs.

“Come eat my zhou.”

“Oooh I love porridge.”

For the next ten minutes, at least a dozen people brought Nestra food just for the disbelief that came with the realization that she would, in fact, eat it all. Skewers, naan, congee, fried dough, fruits, soup, all disappeared down her gullet. She choked midway through the amazing experience when a voice went through her visor.

“Ah, angmoh girl, thanks for ASMR but I close the connection now ok? I pick up your dead drones and repair, ok? Half price.”

“Fine, now fuck off.”

She hated being disturbed while she was eating.

***

Detective Shinoda breathed in the market’s stale air. His visor was blinking with a call notification he could not ignore. Officer Kim. He picked it up and prepared for the worst.

“How are you, Yuuji?” the voice said in Japanese. “Really.”

“Soo-Young, you worry too much.”

“I worry because you charge into an obvious trap. You would have died there if not for the girl.”

“Yes. I should not have risked her life, in retrospect. My commitment would have killed her. I have to ask you, what is she? A quirk?”

“Do not believe I do not see you changing the subject. You could have both died and I would have been sacrificed along with our entire investigation. There is much at stake here. You WILL pay attention and exert caution or Gidung will never be held accountable for what they have done. This is bigger than either of us, Yuuji.”

“Aaah, sorry.”

“You say sorry but you stay the same.”

She tsked.

“As for Palladian, I am not sure why she can perform so well. I only know that my expectations have been surpassed. Her full medical file is sealed by the order of Dr Mazingwe and it would take more than what I can manage to get access. What I know is that she has made multiple requests to be exposed to mana, so I suspect she was mana-starved until recently.”

“Is this not extremely unpleasant?”

“Yes, to users. She appears to have found a way to bypass that hurdle. I have my suspicions. Now, she is either the strongest quirkie or one of the weakest users on earth, yet she still registers as a baseline which benefits us as her foes tend to underestimate her.”

“This solution she found, does it… involve food?”

“Yes. Mana-rich food, I suspect. How did you know?”

“She, ah. She has eaten over a hundred and forty credits worth of street food over the past two days, as well as two bags of snacks. And she defeated a squad of augmented criminals in under fifteen seconds. Now, she is snoozing in the back of the car during working hours. I am very surprised.”

“I see. It doesn’t matter. I didn’t bring her here as a test subject but as an ally. What matters is results, and that you have each other’s back.”

“I have only one worry. I fear she may enjoy killing, perhaps a little too much. I saw her expression when she pulled the trigger. It was… pride. And hunger.”

“She loves winning. It was in her file.”

“I am concerned about the type of victory she may pursue.”

“Then it will be up to you to guide her, as I mentioned before. We cannot do without a heavy hitter and the city will not spare a user to babysit you.”

“I will do my best, ne? Would you like to meet this weekend?”

“For a debrief?”

“No.”

“Then yes, I would love to.”

***

Nestra woke up feeling all fuzzy. This wasn’t her bed. She needed her bed. She also needed a shower but sadly the police cruiser didn’t come equipped with one. Those damn budget cuts.

The first order of business was contacting Shinoda who confirmed he was still just hanging around. The second was to check Flash’s latest message. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the bearer of good news.

“I can’t fix your drones. The EMP fried them inside out. I can’t replace them either because they’re an ad hoc construct with custom parts, sorry. You have to contact the original creator. Good news is, half of them are still working fine. I left them in a box by your door.

PS: you look much nicer when you’re asleep.”

That was only because she couldn’t hear Flash talk. Nestra still had around ten drones left from the original swarm. Stib was going to kill her.

Had to call her though. She just couldn’t do anything without eyes in the skies. Well, nothing to it. Stib picked up on the third ring.

“Nestra? Aren’t you at work?”

“Yeah, well, we got ambushed and… sorry, I fried half of the drones. With an EMP.”

“Are you hurt?” Stib replied.

She sounded really calm.

“No.”

“Thought so or you would be grumpy. It’s fine. I’ll replace them, just…”

“What, really? I thought you were going to be mad, after all the efforts…”

“Look, drones are consumables. They exist so you get hurt less. Did you get hurt less thanks to them?”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t have known we were going to be attacked from behind without them.”

“Then they did what they were meant to do. There is a slight issue with the replacement though.”

“Yeah?”

“I used Blue River’s licenses for some parts. One time was fine because I was building their fleet but… if I do it again, I’ll need to compensate them. Sorry. I just can’t build more on the guild’s dime. That wouldn’t be correct.”

“But if I pay you for your time?”

“I’ll need six hundred creds a pop. It’s already over five hundred just for the license and raw materials. Add a little for fabricator use and, yeah. It’s already a friend’s discount.”

“I’ll pay,” Nestra said.

“Six thousand? Just like that?”

“Remember the check from the city? I’m rich as hell.”

“Not like that, Nestra. You’ve always been concerned about money and now you just burn six grand without batting an eye? You got another source of money. Oh, is it your family?”

“No!” Nestra protested.

“Oh then, hmmm. Ok, we don’t have to talk about it now.”

“It’s fine.”

“Don’t do anything stupid please. Anyway, I’ll get them delivered to Fifteen’s precinct. Just please watch out for yourself.”

“No promises.”

“Ugh, then at least wait until I get you the replacements. You were attacked?”

“Ambushed by remnants of the gang. We’re not sure exactly why they came at us but they had white dream inhalers near their sleeping quarters.”

“Ugh, on the run and stimmed to the gills? Fucking idiots.”

“Yeah well those idiots almost killed me. Maybe they wanted to stick it to the man. It just feels so random…”

“There might be more attacks in the future. Lots of gangers died during the purge but many ran away, or managed to hide. They’re not the most stable people around. You know how dodgy augs fuck with people’s minds. Be really careful out there. Nestra, I know it’s not your style but… could you let the gleams handle it? For once?”

“If they bother showing up, sure.”

“Oh, before you go, there was something else. You remember Seth?”

The goofy baker’s smile invaded Nestra’s mind like some persistent weed.

“Yes? He gave you his num— oh no.”

“Hmm so yeah. We dated. You, ah, don’t have a problem? Right? You just seemed weird about it.”

“Stib, I am the last person who should give you relationship advice. As long as you’re staying safe.”

“Oh yeah, he’s a real gentleman. And funny too. And a great cook! Anyway, just wanted to let you know in case you went to his shop and he asked questions. It’s picking up, you know? His business. Ok, I should go. Go get them, tiger.”

Shinoda was gesturing so it did seem she was going to go get something.

Unfortunately that turned out to be human misery.

***

Sometimes, Nestra’s life was exciting and filled with interesting foes and sometimes, it was both tragic and banal. The room up here stank of old socks, piss, and neglect, the kind that built up over months of just giving up. The room’s inhabitant’s sallow skin clung to his bones like old parchment. Discolored patches marked him as a meth user, probably, and the state of his teeth, dirty hair, and bloodshot eyes confirmed he was far gone. And yet there was still a spark of lucidity under that crushed shell of despair. It shone ominously while the man stared listlessly at the body of his wife. She bore the same stigma but what attracted the eye was more the pool of blood and the crushed skull. An old trophy lay on its side, still caked in congealed gore. He had made no effort to hide his crime.

“Dunno what took me,” he said.

Drool fled from his chapped lips.

“Dunno, dunno. I’m sorry.”

“You cannot stay here, you need to come with us,” Shinoda said.

He remained calm but there was a distance here, a coldness in his voice Nestra had never heard before. It was still the most normal thing in this den of misery. A part of her wondered what would have happened if she’d joined another branch. Or the emergency services. Being submitted to scenes like this one day after day after day… Nestra had issues caring but even that would have ground her mental to a fine dust. Shinoda followed another approach. She wasn’t sure how but it was as if he were wearing a mask and transmuting all that horror into… she didn’t know what. Something else.

“You need help,” Shinoda said.

“Help, yeah. I don’t think I need help.”

The man reached for his pillow. Shinoda didn’t move beyond taking a few steps forward but Nestra felt something was wrong, so she took out her neutralizer. It was her fastest non-lethal tool. It also looked like a small compact gun, except it was painted blue so people could tell the difference.

What was hidden under the pillow was, unsurprisingly, a gun. An old handgun from before the incursion, only meant to stop other humans. The junkie didn’t aim it at anyone. He just cradled it between shaky fingers like a treasure, or a lifeline.

“I think I need to stop being a fuckup. There’s only one cure.”

“That is the easy way out,” Shinoda said.

The man blinked. He had almost forgotten them.

“I… I guess it is. I just… I’m so tired.”

“You can rest, get better, then atone. Come on. I’ll see you out.”

“Marge. She doesn’t deserve to be left like that.”

“My friends are on the way. They will take care of her. They are professional and respectful.”

“Yeah, that’s good. She doesn’t deserve it. Being like that. Yeah.”

Broken record.

The demon part of Nestra shifted. This man was a goner. He smelled like an accepted end. There was absolutely nothing left to hunt here, nothing at all.

Abruptly, the junkie grabbed his gun and pushed it into his mouth, or he tried to. Nestra lifted her neutralizer and pulled the trigger. The shot landed on the man’s naked leg. He spasmed. Shinoda grabbed the gun from his hands just an instant later.

Oh, he would have gotten it without her help.

Had she interrupted a touching heart to heart moment?

“Ooops. Sorry. Bit fast on the trigger there,” Nestra said.

Shinoda didn’t reply. He spent a few seconds taking the gun apart but his expression remained vacant. Nestra let him place the unconscious man in a safe position before restraining him.

“No need to apologize, Palladian-san. We are new partners, yes? And besides, the culprit is alive and, well, he is alive. That is all we could hope to achieve here.”

“The ambulance is on the way?”

“No ambulances here, however, the city has made hover vehicles available to us. We merely need to wait for their arrival.”

“Are you…. ok?”

Shinoda flinched. For a moment, Nestra believed she’d been too direct, but it was ok to ask people how they were doing, right? It just meant she cared. It felt strange to care about new people.

“Ah. As fine as I will ever be, Palladian-san. Thank you for asking. The fallen, like him, they are like…”

He searched for an answer in the ceiling’s discolored tiles.

“Like leaves through a spider web. The spider web is friends and institutions. When someone falls, the web holds them and sometimes, they pick themselves up. But sometimes, the web tires, or breaks, or it was never strong enough, and the person disappears. The web does not know it failed until…”

He gestured at the two wrecks, one dead, one wishing to be so.

“Until they die and then, they exist again. Briefly and painfully.”

“Are we the web?”

“Yes, for this place, we are. Sadly, the web is never strong enough. And it always misses people. I know it. I tried. We cannot see how far some have fallen, even when we are so close to them. I still try, Palladian-san. Sometimes we even win.”

“Maybe we should get some coffee. And then go home.”

Shinoda chuckled. It was brittle yet genuine.

“Yes, perhaps we do. It will be up to psychiatrists to pick it up from here, I believe. To care more would leave us… drained. The web is only as strong as the spiders that live on it, ne?”

“I think you are pushing the metaphor a little far.”

“So I am. I shall buy your coffee as an apology. And a donut.”

“Deal!”

“You are a very sunny person, Palladian-san. I am glad you are here.”

***

Sipping on a fresh cup of excellent BaiHua java, Nestra considered her next step. The situation was pretty clear so far. Some time ago, someone in Gidung made a plan to turn a profit in District Fifteen. This plan included arming gangs with military-grade rejects so as to justify Gidung’s security presence and the juicy contact it would generate. There was undoubtedly more to it but that was the aspect of the plan that almost got Nestra killed. Now, Gidung was settling in their new domain while the city’s civil servants sniffed around, looking for proof that they’d been bamboozled. That was the gist of it. There was, however, a complication for Gidung. The city reacted too fast for them to finish their purge as thoroughly as they’d hoped for. Now there were two competing, overextended groups paralyzed by each other’s presence, and in the gap, gangers had survived. There were no doubts in Nestra’s mind that Gidung had thoroughly erased everything they could get their hands on including most records and witnesses, and it was only a matter of time before the rest was found, but there were bound to be pieces of the puzzle still scattered around the district, and it would be a race to get them before the opposition. Nestra had every intention to assist the city’s inquiry, but there were things her human self could not readily do.

Her demon self could, however.

The first order of business would be to find more of those remnants, and she knew exactly where to start. The survivor of the ambush was bleeding, though Shinoda didn’t seem to be aware of it. Nestra could call the techs and then request a team to follow, which could take some time… but there was another option.

It was time for demon Nestra to follow that dribble of blood back to another lair after tonight’s portal world. There was a risk she would be tired but if what the benefactor said was right, she needed to become much stronger, much faster, because something was coming.

***

Part 9

It was dark in the Redwood forest. Outside of the main trail, light came from the odd lamp post dotting the secondary paths. Benches and picnic areas waited for the next day’s visitors. A few cleaning bots picked empty cans, replaced trash bags, or otherwise ate the odd leaves fallen on varnished wood. Bio-engineered cicadas filled the night with a pleasant, muted chorus that accompanied Nestra with every nervous step. The odd traveler ignored her as she walked past. Most were corpo pawns or gleams on their way to somewhere important.

Nestra had to give it to them, BaiHua Biotech Solutions had the most pleasant arcologies of them all, both in terms of appearance and comfort. A massive greenhouse occupied the entire ground level and most of it was opened to visitors so that the masses may wonder at its many creations. It was said BaiHua’s compound was entirely self-sufficient. It could survive another apocalypse almost indefinitely. It was also, unfortunately for Nestra, extremely secure. It meant she could reach it with her real identity without much concern, but she wouldn’t have access to her gear tonight.

Just her demon self and the skin.

The benefactor’s precise coordinates were enough to guide Nestra deeper into the forest, by which time she could feel the soothing pulse of power all portals seemed to share. She wondered how the many cleaning drones had not picked it up yet, until she reached a large specimen nestled between two artificial boulders and looked up.

The portal was in the air, hidden between two branches. Portals were never fully inaccessible, which meant that she’d have to climb to reach it but it would be fine. The presence of the portal confirmed a few things and Nestra didn’t know what to think about it.

First, BaiHua didn’t have the technology to detect a portal on its immediate territory. She wasn’t surprised that outer district would rely on cheap cameras to manage the space, but the inside of an arcology was another matter entirely. Maybe detecting the strange radiation she enjoyed so much was more complicated than she thought.

Second, the benefactor didn’t give a shit about corpos. They were confident enough to send her here with only a small warning about not bringing weapons. They were sure she would get away with it. That was…. terrifying. Corpos paired up with the most powerful guilds. Hell, most of the key actors were high gleams themselves. And the benefactor just didn’t care.

That or they were a complete moron but somehow, she doubted that. They were only a mild moron, and a well-meaning one as well. Welp, nothing to it. Nestra moved out of the path then waited until she was absolutely sure there were no patrol drones around, then she pulled off her mask.

Climbing the redwood proved easy. With enhanced strength, she could hold her entire body weight with two fingers and the modified redwoods bore enough crevices on their bark for a comfortable climb. She felt the delicious power grow as she approached, and soon, a pale blue light shone on the nearby leaves.

And then she kept climbing.

A hissy curse word escaped Nestra’s lips. The portal seemed perfectly positioned for maximum stealth, which was why it wasn’t detected yet. That was how breaks usually occurred in Threshold despite the hundreds of thousands of cameras monitored by AIs. She could have slipped through but she wanted to confirm her suspicions first, and soon she had to sit down in annoyance.

She clicked her tongue to express her frustration. It sounded harsh and alien but she also felt better using it so she did it again. That fucking benefactor was out of his mind or something. There were plenty of portals popping all around Threshold all the time, most of them D-class. Breaks occurred once every two weeks at the very least. That meant there were plenty of portals to find that would match her level. This portal was on the upper middle size as far as D-class portals went, about four meters across. It was an indication of the opposition. She would mostly face D-class monsters inside.

That sucked, especially without her sword. Guess she had to use the Scornful Crescent in a new way. The philosophy still felt weird in her head. It was like a skill she was digesting, something she could control to an extent yet was still foreign to a degree. It felt like learning the sword all over again back when the gestures had not been automatic. And now she would have to get in there and fight with even less tools than normal, on a harder world than she’d ever faced.

Sucked to be her. Portals of that size usually took a team of four to five D-class raiders to safely clear. Oh well. She was probably just completely awesome so a lot was expected of her.

With one last sigh, Nestra slipped in and found herself on another tree overlooking an infinite sea of fog pierced by colossal trunks reaching so high their branches seemed to meld with the alien stars above. It was night. It was very wet. Screeches and clicks surrounded her in an overwhelming cacophony after the quiet of the arcology. A stifling heat made every surface bear condensation like crystal tiny beads, undisturbed near the portal yet bleeding in a nearby branch around the mark of a clawed feet. Nestra looked around and repressed the urge to whistle.

The titanic trees on the horizon? Yeah, she was on one of them. A secondary canopy extended under her feet at distances that made her question her depth perception. It was like being on a plane and watching cities roll by, except that here it was a single organism.

A part of her wanted to jump and just… cross that distance. She would survive the landing with her resistances. Just let go like that, with the wind in her face, watching the green masses turn into village-sized hedges. She could just slip by the boundary and live there for a while.

Nah, definitely not worth it.

Nestra turned around. The entry portal was lodged against the gnarly trunk, with a branch wrapping around providing a way up. Below her, a distant blur and the lack of obvious paths marked the end of the portal world while above, a network of thin branches formed a rudimentary revolving staircase fir for a colossus. That was her destination. Within one last sigh, Nestra took a step forward and something caught her left arm.

She was yanked to the side. Instincts and urgency made her grab the captive limb before her shoulder could dislocate. She twisted on herself to plant her feet, which slipped on the wet bark underneath.

She fell into the void. Whatever caught her dragged her forward, towards another branch. There was a long, tubular thing wrapped around her forearm, a tongue.  A blurry shape pulled her body towards a gaping maw filled with teeth. Two black eyes were fixed on her. The blur grew more defined for an instant and she spotted her captor, a creature a little like a toad but also a chameleon.

Timing would be… complicated.

The tongue finished dragging her towards the branch. Stress and exhilaration made her sneer at those black eyes. She put one foot on the branch as the mouth opened wider to chomp.

Nestra bit down on the tongue.

Squishy, elastic. The blood was tangy and a little fishy but filled with mana. Her teeth sank through it like through butter. There was barely any resistance when she viciously tore off a good chunk of flesh, sending a spray of blood in a crimson wave around her. The toad croaked with enough strength to deafen a baseline but Nestra’s sensory defenses were now slightly higher than this morning and she didn’t flinch. The Scornful Crescent whispered in her mind. It told her to press her advantage, to push her victory. She was in danger. This was perfect moment. Nestra pushed mana into her fist as inertia carried her the rest of the way towards the screaming toad and punched it. Her first impacted its skull just under the eye in a powerful blow, making it crack. The shock traveled all the way to her torso and she winced.

Pretty sure the crack wasn’t her knuckles.

But not certain.

“Ow!”

Stupid. Should have use the precision ability but it was not an automatism yet, ugh. If only she had her sword! The toad didn’t exactly recover but it lashed out anyway. She had to step back or risk being swallowed. Its legs tensed. She fell on her back.

The toad surged over her in a mighty jump. Displaced air cooled her skin. Dangerous. She flipped and used momentum just as it landed farther away on the branch. For a moment, she thought the creature would fall off because it was in such an awkward spot, partly on the side of the branch, but the feet latched on like vacuum cups. Her sprint forward finished with a slide under a tongue whip, then she punched the same eye again. Hard. Repeatedly. The creature tried to push her away. It reared up on its hind leg to throw her off, and Nestra let go. Her toes dug into the wet bark, then she front kicked the standing creature in the chest as it was already out of balance.

For an instant, the toad teetered over the edge, the mass of its uper chest too large to allow it to recover immediately. Nestra saw that, felt the wide opening. She knew what to do. Kneel. See the mottled, shifting skin from close up. Smell the slightly acid scent of the beast. Open her mouth wide and chomp down.

Her black teeth shore through skin, muscles, bones, and ligaments with obscene ease. The creature pulled its leg away with a screech that left its entire weight holding on to one foot. Nestra turned, spitting gore. One leg to go. Aaaaaaand the bark gave way.

The toad fell off the branch to the abyss below and the very, very, very long drop towards the next false canopy. She watched its form cross the threshold, then grow smaller until something with wings detached itself from the trunk and flew on a storm of wind, catching the toad mid-fall.

A sort of wyvern the size of a decent airliner.

A second later, a rush of power filled her and she fell back on her ass with toad blood dripping down her chin. Her awareness increased a little, especially her vision. There was also something else like a cooling sensation flooding her vein, though she couldn’t identify it. All in all, an excellent haul, hehe.

Ok so jumping would have been a Bad idea, but hey, she thought at the wyvern, thanks for the assist, homie. Nestra smiled to herself. That had been fun as hell. Dangerous, but fun. She was right though. That portal world was really dangerous. That toad had been D-class and not the weakest either. Got to be careful.

Nestra frowned. It wasn’t uncommon for teams to retreat to fight another day. Most guilds actually encouraged it because no one wanted to lose raiders on stupid shit. What about her? Was she supposed to push herself to the brink or was retreat an acceptable option? The benefactor had said that hubris killed her kind. Maybe retreating would help her fight off that flaw. She wasn’t sure.

She would retreat if she were seriously wounded before facing the portal’s guardian. Nodding to herself, Nestra decided that it was probably the best way to handle hubris. Yep! Now to go up.

Nestra walked back towards the trunk. There was a sort of path there, or at least enough bulbous growths to make a sort of winding way up. After some experimentation, she realized it was easier to walk from branch to branch as it prevented her from having to crawl. A crawling Nestra was a slow target, and that would be a bad idea. As she slowly made her way up, Nestra used the opportunity to watch the wildlife since she had to look for other toads anyway. A vibrant ecosystem had developeddevelopped around the titanic tree. There were white mushrooms with a yellow marbling that she surprisingly had a data on despite not knowing about this world. They happened to be edible as well. It would be the heights of carelessness to bring back any sort of loot now so she tried them on the spot. They were nice and gorged with mana so she ate some more, lamenting her forlorn gear. This would have been amazing grilled in garlic butter! Curse BaiHua and their advanced security detectors.

Besides the edible ones, there were a couple of poisonous mushrooms that could have been sold on the black market, as well as colorful birds and small critters who merged into the bark when she looked at them. Strange insects flew lazily around the vegetation, the distant sun shining on their shells through heavy clouds. At last, she spotted strange lianas ending in bright yellow stingers.

Hmm, that looked a bit like—

The liana tensed and Nestra dove to the side with a hiss. Yellow darts whistled through the air. Those were not lianas, those were back limbs for a small green creature with root-like feet. Its round form gave it a good ability to hide. The lianas tensed again and she readied herself.

As soon as the darts were in flight, she sprinted and used momentum to land right next to the creature, which hissed and jumped back.

The creature was now untethered from the bark, and that was a death sentence. Nestra smirked and used precision. She swung her naked foot and kicked with all the might of a soccer manga protagonist. The creature was unceremoniouslyunceremoniosuly punted into near orbit. It wailed miserably on its way down.

Praise Newton, Nestra thought.

The same wyvern creature grabbed the impromptuimpomptu second serving. Nestra thought it was a little unfair that IT got to eat all that meat while she had to muonch on raw fungus. Disgusting. Still, another victory and one that came from noticing her enemy in advance - granting her a rush of coolness in her veins — probably toxin tolerance — and mind speed somehow.. She kept going up at a sedate pace, taking her time to make sure she wouldn’t be caught again. That allowed her to spot the next toad.

The beast’s camouflage was near perfect, but there was one thing it couldn’t do: make water disappear. A puff of wind blew condensation across the branches and gathered around a crouched form like an angelic, ephemeral halo. It was enough for Nestra to spot it. She stopped and considered her options.

It had probably seen her. She had no real way to hide here, in the camouflage-ruled world. She would have to kill it, but to do so, she had options.

The safest way to kill it would be by using a demon bolt, but the problem was she had only two in the tank before exhaustion set it, and she needed at least one for the guardian. There was also the issue of mana-infused attacks. She only had her fists and without some power behind her strikes, she might as well gently massage the monsters instead. How should she approach it?

Hmm.

She knew she could lure the tongue whip out. Monsters of this power were predictable, especially ambush predators. Then what?

Well, she had a tool.

If a princess kissed a frog in turned it back into a prince. What happened if a demon bit a toad? Would she turn back into a human?

Nothing to it. She had to try. Nestra walked as casually as she could towards the base of the toad’s branch. A step. Another step. Another one. Come on, lick me.

A blur.

Nestra leaned back, watching the powerful muscle extend past her nose, and then, she grabbed it, and then she bit it. Her teeth tore a chunk of flesh half as wide as the tongue itself. Almost immediately, the toad pulled it back with a screech of pain. Blood pulsed out of the wound in great splurts but she wasn’t done yet. The toad, however, was. Despite her best effort, she was pulled forward, her neck jolting painfully.

“Ugh.”

She rushed forward so as not to be pulled into the air. Her feet clambered on the wet bark as the toad desperately pulled the mangled appendage in. Couldn’t get a grip. Fuck it. She lurched forward, dragged on the tongue and bit again where the wound extended. This time, the muscle spasmed and then, finally, she tore it off. The stump sprayed her with crimson liquid as she fell on the ground. Blinded! She used momentum to step back before realizing it was already over.

The toad creature screeched loudly as it bled out, which left Nestra wiping blood off her face. The rush of power came soon after ward.

Her neck still hurt a little.

So, yeah, had to refine her technique a little but at least she was having fun. Her gaze lingered on the creature’s powerful hindlegs.

Maybe…

No no no no she could not sneak any meat out. She’d even forfeited getting a bag to mute the temptation. Enough of this, time to go on. She still had to visit Fifteen afterward.

The climb remained slow and controlled. Nestra dispatched another two vine creatures with ease now that her strategy was perfected, the only difference was that she grabbed one by the liana before tossing it out to its death like a bola. The portal was rather small for one of its power, though the creatures were strong and well-adapted to the environment. It made her worried about the guardian. As she approached a large platform with great care, her suspicions were confirmed.

At first, it looked like a giant green leaf stuck to the bark but careful examination showed that the moss-like surface was, in fact, fur. The four corners of the leaf then revealed themselves to be limbs ending in claws, their white structure digging into the bark. The upper side was triangular and flattened against the tree, possibly the head.

This was it, the moment of truth. She had two bolts and the creature was lying in ambush. Nestra crouched on her branch, looking up towards her target. Should she aime for the head or center mass? Give how ridiculously potent the bolt was and her lack of experience with it, aiming for center mass might be safer. Focusing, Nestra brought—

Pain.

Sharp, overwhelmingly sharp pain. Back of her left arm. Something latched on it. Teeth raking her bones. She screamed and panicked. There was something there, black, shaped like a shark. About her size. Head like a catfish and a wolf mashed together, with two black beady eyes glaring at her with rabid fury. Wrong wrong wrong. Not the correct ecosystem. It wasn’t here a moment before! She plunged the thumb of her right arm into the eye with all the strength she could muster, her blow backed by precision while her red blood pooled on the beast’s mouth. Something crunched. The beast let out a muted scream that sounded inside of her damn head, not here, there. What the fuck? She hyperventilated. So painful.

The shark thing flopped away. It was swimming in the air and now Nestra got a better look at its powerful shape as it made to charge her again. It wasn’t here before! She was sure it wasn’t here before! That piece of shit was cheating! What the fuck! And the mana was wrong, not the right taste, not the right place of existence! It was an intruder!

Like her.

“Hssss!”

The shark thing swam around to attack her, its face still wet. Her left arm was a sea of pain. Blood dripped freely on the wet bark. She used momentum to close the distance while it was still winding up to attack. Precision guided her fist into the creature’s bleeding eye socket. There was a crunch. The shark wailed and veered away, directly into the path of the falling guardian.

A horrified yet determined Nestra pulled the rest of the power towards the guardian, just as the creature’s long arm extended towards her, just as its maw opened to reveal serrated teeth. The beast punted the shark, which blinked out of existence while Nestra extended her arm, furious because the guardian looked like a giant, carnivorous sloth.

And she was damned if she would let herself get smushed by a fucking sloth. The charge connected. The potential was made.

The world exploded in front of her.

With an ear-splitting crack, a ray of dark and gray crossed the distance and the creature’s right chest exploded in a spray of blood and fuming gore. Deep crack splintered the bark and Nestra was left with just enough strength to jump out of the way. The sloth’s severed arm still clipped her.

Her hand slipped uselessly on slipper wood, then she went over the branch and down.

“Fu—”

And towards another branch. Her body slammed painfully against the unyielding material, sending droplets all around her. The shock stole her breath and that was nothing compared to her arm. For a moment, all she could do was wail and clutch herself.

“Ah, hsssss.”

A few hissing swear words escaped her lips. She wasn’t even exactly sure what they mean but they sounded very rude. It took her maybe a minute to move again, but she did. She had to.

There had been no bursts of energy.

The guardian was still alive.

Using the tree as a wall, she climbed to her feet and checked for damage. Her chest felt sore. There was a half-moon of deep teeth mark around her entire right arm, still oozing blood.

She realized she didn’t have time to handle it. Nestra ran up the branches as fast as she could, confident that at least she’d dealt with the threats on the way. She was leaving this place as soon as possible. She was also certain the guardian was bleeding out. The exit portal was going to open soon, and she would jump out before that fish thing came back to give her another wedgie. Pain made every movement difficult. The Scornful Crescent was of no use here, only the tolerance for pain she’d built over a decade of merciless training. Almost there. Almost there. Something crashed below her and she peered quickly over the edge. The sloth thing was climbing with one arm. A mossy structure covered the ruin of its chest. It should be dead. It was probably dead. It was not just ready to go alone. She could see it in the rage-filled malice of its beady eyes.

It was the perfect occasion.

The shark was a stealthy thing but she only had one chance at it. With one last glance around for an anomaly, she cast the lightning spell again. An extended finger pointed at the head of the sloth and the potential stretched the fabric of the portal world thin.

Another explosion. Around her, shaken condensation formed a cloud of sweltering heat. Nestra didn’t wait to see the beast fall as a potent surge of energy filled her essence. Resilience, mostly. Good. She rushed ahead while looking around and found the altar bearing her rewards, this time crystals and enchanted branches still gushing with life. She ignored them all as she jumped through the exit and crashed on redwood.

It was much colder here, dryer. More comfortable for her. There was an envelope in front of her, along with a red vial, greenish bandages, and a Kero nut. She reached for the message first because she wanted to know what the fuck happened.

“Little Nezhra!

A void shark! It must be lost. It’s got your scent now, so be careful when you go into portals and good luck!

I am working on a little something for you because you rely on your mana tool too much. In the meanwhile, have those supplies and the nut. It has been a long day!”

Into portals, the message said. She assumed it meant it wouldn’t attack her here. Good. Good. She sat down and applied the potion and bandages to her poor arm, hissing in pain the whole time. The wounds were closing very slowly and they stung something fierce. Even the skin had failed to grow over it to help her heal, something it usually did almost immediately. It was a hard place to treat as well so it took her two minutes to finish before she could sulkily wipe off her tears and chew on her Kero nut. Peace at last. Since she wasn’t sure what to do with the empty potion bottle, she left it there.

That was going to leave a mark. Maybe the void shark’s bite had something special going on. Pissed her off though. Next time she’d bite it. On the fin. And make fucking soup with it. Seriously, did other raiders have monsters cross the boundaries of reality to bite them in the ass MID HUNT? What the fuck kind of stupidity was that. Ugh.

Climbing down the tree wasn’t really pleasant but she managed.

Nestra pulled her mask on. The pain receded at the back of her mind, replaced by a dull ache. She would heal and it would all be fine, but for now, she had to get back to her house and then out to track some wounded aug. Ugh, not looking forward to this after all. She felt exhausted.

A grumbling Nestra retraced her steps towards the entrance of the arcology. There were trams and other means of transportation across the massive park but none near the edge where she was. That left her trudging along the carefully manicured trails in a foul mood until she caught a flash of mana on the main path, further along.

That was surprising. She didn’t hear or sense a battle but there was something fundamentally hostile about flashing mana, even though that one felt warm and caring. Gleams always kept it under control in public.

Should she head away?

No, a baseline like her wouldn’t notice. Better not to attract the attention. Nestra kept a steady pace that led her to the central path, and then the main avenue leading to BaiHua’s lobby. It was mostly deserted past midnight except near the massive security gate leading outside, towards the parking access. Two gleams argued in slow voices near the long entrance. Nestra caught flashes of vivid green eyes she identified as life mana. One of the gleams, a woman, was clearly arguing, the sleeves of her white BaiHua outfit moving wildly like the wings of a silly bird. She was also quite red in the face. She shared her dirty blonde hair and facial features with the other gleam who wore a… armored white police user uniform? Wait, she knew that guy! He healed her the night of her transformation. What was his name again?

As she stopped, the two gleams somehow sensed her, the woman turning with fury and the man like he was drowning in a storm and she was a fat buoy with self-heating functions.

“Officer Palladian!” he yelled. “You, err, you’re finally here!”

Nestra felt caught in a storm as the woman’s furious mana invaded her personal space. A normal baseline would instinctively flinch though they wouldn’t exactly know why. The rude gesture annoyed her enough that she ignored it completely. Besides, the man had invoked the ancient rites of protection: always back up someone who claims you were going to meet in case they are being stalked.

“Valerian of… House Nephrite,” she greeted. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No no, I was just about to leave!”

“Val, you— AAAH! Hopeless! And you, do you really know him?” the woman demanded.

Interestingly, she wasn’t sneering. It wasn’t a disparaging remark. It was the question of someone fully expecting Valerian to be full of shit, which, arguably, he was.

So was Nestra.

“Of course, we met during the purge in Fifteen.”

“When he got his ass handed to him by a ganger instead of saving lives?” the woman spat.

This was getting into dangerous territories. Nestra was too busy to get caught in a gleam argument. Baselines never came up on top.

“Haha, miss Palladian volunteers in Fifteen to rebuild the peace, like I do!”

“Is that so?” the woman asked.

“I work with law enforcement.”

Valerian’s relative was about to ask more but she shook her head instead.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s not over, Val. You know what you have to do for your own sake. Please. And you…” she said, returning her glare towards Nestra. “Don’t encourage him. You’d be making a mistake.”

With that last threat, she stomped away in a huff. Nestra waited until she was halfway to the lobby before turning to a sheepish Valerian. For a gleam, decorum was clearly not his forte.

She admitted to being a little curious. She also knew it was a shit idea to express it, so she made to leave.

“Wait! Ah, sorry, were you leaving?”

“Yes.”

“Let me walk you to your car as an apology. You brought it this time, right?”

Nestra believed the best apology would be to leave her the fuck alone. That said, no one stopped gleams for random inspections so…

And Valerian was kind of a good guy.

“Sure. Thanks.”

“You’re most welcome.”

The pair made their way to the security door and the many scanner preventing poor demon girls from smuggling out rightfully hunted frog legs of unusual proportions.

“So, yeah, sorry about that. It’s… an old argument. My family doesn’t really approve of my choices, you see?”

I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care.

“Joining the police?” Nestra asked to be polite and because Valerian looked like a kicked puppy.

“No, uh, fighting. For the people, not a guild. Trying at least. Life mana isn’t really good for offense.”

It was completely useless, yeah.

“My family… are mostly healers, you see. And biomancers I guess. They would rather have me join them than waste my time on battle.”

“Your family works for BaiHua?”

“The Nephrite are among the founding families, yeah. Grandpa is on the board.”

He blushed.

“Guess that makes me a child of nepotism trying to escape a life of privilege, ey? A bit stereotypical.”

“Then that makes two of us, only I absconded with a house.”

“Do you come here often, by the way? First time seeing you here. I like visiting at night. I’m also saying this because my cousin might give you issues if she sees you alone, just saying. Maybe. She’s good people, I swear.”

So nervous. By then, Nestra had walked to the elevator and waited for the lift down towards the massive outer parking garage of the arcology.

She had her cover story ready.

“No I, errr, today at work was… difficult.”

“The dead augs?”

“You heard?” Nestra asked, suddenly interested.

“Of course! Well done, dispatching them without reinforcements. Wish you didn’t have to do it though.”

He winced.

“Some of my comrades in arms are not exactly the cream of the crop.”

“Understatement of the century. And yes, I always wanted to see the redwoods since they were grown. I guess tonight felt like a really good time.”

“My uncle made them! They’re great, visually. We’re studying their fire resistance.”

They boarded the elevator, alone except for a short baseline woman in a suit who did her best to look inconspicuous. Valerian didn’t even notice her.

“So yes, anyway, I’m also working around Fifteen. We’ve had to break fights and capture a few augmented gangers causing trouble but otherwise it’s been calm. Yours was the largest group. Be careful, there is no guarantee this was the last of them.”

“I’d be surprised as well. Say, do you know if any of the gang gleams escaped?”

“No, they were the priority and there weren’t many of them anyway. I think Hong Wang got them all. He was… thorough.”

Nestra thought back to the Red King and his flames. Yeah that gleam wasn’t exactly subtle.

“However,” Valerian said, leaning conspirationaly towards Nestra in full view of another baseline. “Rumor says many lieutenants made it out. They’re probably far away by now but you never know.”

They left the lift and a traumatized secretary behind. Nestra paid the parking fee with her visor while they walked. Valerian was just so excited to talk to her. It felt weird.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to add him to the list of people she ought to care about. He was a disaster in waiting.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” she said.

“You do that. Strong augs will be a danger to you seeing as you’re, you didn’t…”

He gestured awkwardly.

“Riel I’m making a mess of things. You don’t have raider combat capabilities. There, I said it.”

He winced.

“To be fair, neither do I.”

“You’re just life, right?”

“Strong life. No other affinity though this one would be all I needed. It’s just…”

He sighed.

“It sounds selfish but… I want to fight. I know I’d be more useful as a pure healer and all, just…”

“Can life mana really not be turned around? Leeching spell maybe?”

Valerian shook his head.

“I can buff my allies really well, or I would if they let me. They mostly want me to save mana to heal them if things go south. If only they’d let me prove myself! And, errr, maybe if I did find an aggressive use, it wouldn’t change things. I would just be ‘perverting’ my gift. Not to mention I’d need three times the effort and twice the mana of a fire spell for half of the result. I fear there is no winning here.”

“Yet you still do it.”

“Yeah. I… look, I want to contribute on the frontline, not in a tent at the back. I don’t want everyone to tell me how to live!”

He bristled.

“But… I guess they’re right. I’m being selfish. I could save many more lives doing what I was born to do rather than what I want to do.”

Nestra and him shared a tense silence. She’d reached her car by now, and waited by the front. For some reason, it felt wrong to cut the man off.

She thought she knew why.

“Am I being an ass?” he eventually said.

“Why do you ask me even though we barely know each other?”

“Because,” he replied with conviction, “you know what it’s like to grow up with expectations and not meet them.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“Sorry, it’s just…”

“Yet I see what you mean. You don’t really need my answer. You know what I’m doing. I could have a cozy office job using my network or even work for my parents’ guild and yet here I am shooting augs in a concrete jungle. As for doing what you were born to do, nobody decided that.”

“I would help more people if I picked the path of the healer.”

“Fuck them,” Nestra suddenly said with feeling. “You may be expected to contribute but those folks sure as fuck don’t get to tell you how. What do you owe them? Or are you expected to spend every waking hours shoving life mana into paper cuts? Nobody’s explored life mana beyond the basics so far. We merely use it as a supplement to technology. Maybe you were born to change that. Who the fuck knows? Not me, and not your cousin. Nobody has the right to tell me to set myself on fire to warm others. Nobody is owed my sacrifice. Same for you.”

“Huh,” Valerian said.

“What?”

“You were on fire just now, but anyway I think I see your point. And I agree. I’m holding you back. Thanks. For the candid reply. I… think I needed to hear it from someone else. Maybe I’ll become a healer eventually but… you are right. I want to explore what life mana can contribute on the battlefield. Maybe I’ll fail. Maybe not. I just… don’t want to live with regrets.”

“I understand.”

“Ok, then be careful out there and come back for a walk sometimes? I’m actually there almost every evening. Did I say that already? Oh! And, uh, not that it’s my business but… you smell of blood. A little. Do you need any help? I can heal you for free, haha.”

Nestra did her best not to freeze like a deer in the headlights.

Human Nestra was intact.

Demon Nestra though…

“I’m fine. Unharmed, actually. Maybe it’s something from the battle?”

“If you are sure,” Valerian replied, dripping polite disbelief.

She climbed in and set up the autopilot. Valerian waved her goodbye and despite her better judgment, she returned it. She was also asleep by the time the car left the district. She only woke up two hours later in her seat and then only because she’d put the alarm. A string of slurs followed her return to the waking world.

“So tired…”

But she had to go and track that blood.

After a snack or two.

***

Part 10

It had been a shit idea. The right thing to do would have been to follow the wounded ganger on the spot instead of letting her escape. What if she got into a vehicle?

No, vehicles were controlled very tightly in Fifteen. Gangers just couldn’t be seen above ground or they would have a fleet of drones on their asses in less time it took to say “Police state”.

Nestra should have still taken the risk and followed, even if that meant losing access to evidence. She would have had the support of Kim, maybe even the gleams though… ah whatever. It was done.

The trail of blood was still relatively fresh but Nestra wasn’t. Her arm ached, a sore feeling that persisted long past what she was used to in a society with ready access to painkillers. Although the wound was almost closed now, it was exhausting. The pain weighed on her overtaxed mind like the constant clang of a bell, stealing her attention away. She grit her teeth and took a deep breath. The tunnel here smelled stale with the coppery scent of the wounded aug’s lifeforce still potent after more than half a day. She followed it. She could see it as well, like a fading arrow. The rust-colored track led deeper into the bowels of District Fifteen past the lit track tunnels and into mazes of maintenance and storage rooms. The tracks didn’t seem to follow any strict direction either. Once, they made a small detour through a pump system hangar. The blood flow also fell into a trickle there, but there was a large, crimson shoulder print against a manual control panel. Nestra’s quarry had made a stop to staunch the bleeding here. Perhaps also to make sure she wasn’t pursued. She was weakening.

Nestra shook her head then winced. The trail was old. This was not a hunt. She had to calm down. Maybe lie down for a second and… no. No. She had to finish this.

The wounded aug left the maze almost a kilometer down the line, close to Threshold’s kaiju wall. The purge had hit the place the hardest here where one of the gangs had made its stronghold. Nestra had to push through debris and collapsed rooms to find the surface. Bloody handprints made the task easy. She ended up near a half-destroyed building at the edge of a large crater. The smell of fire still haunted the place, with molten plastic and twisted steel beams hanging over the precipice in a forest of rotting limbs. She would have missed the steel door were it not for yet another bloody spot on the wall nearby. Nestra’s quarry had leaned there, perhaps waiting for someone to open the gate.

This was it. Her destination.

Her black box beeped to warn her about cameras. Better to take a small detour. She moved around the devastated street to avoid being seen. She would not be recognized, of course, but glitchy cameras and guards on alert mixed poorly, especially since the open ground would make her visible for entire seconds. Her path led her around and to the heart of the dead battlefield.

This part of the city was an absolute wreck. Perhaps it had been a hive of villainy before the purge, but now it was an empty grave. Scorched husks of tents and stalls lined the ravaged streets. Not a single wall stood that didn’t bear bullet impacts and half-erased graffiti, all that remained of a defiant faction’s struggle against Threshold’s all-encompassing authority. Casings still littered the asphalt for all the good it had done the gangers. Nestra shook her head. Fucking idiots. Fucking dead idiots now.

Well, whatever.

A small search revealed a water tower ravaged by machine gun spray. Nestra climbed it, then made a short jump to her target’s roof.

It could have been an administrative building. Or a company office. The roof was empty except for inactive AC units. A door led downstairs, though it was locked and probably secured. Not that Nestra needed a door. A breath, and she slipped through the fabric of the world and through the floor under her feet.

One moment, she was standing outside, the next, she was falling down a derelict office, her naked feet landing smoothly on a ratty carpet.

It was dark here and it smelled terrible, musty and rotten with a burnt undertone. Cubicles stood, yellow surfaces eaten by mold. They were gutted and empty with cables snaking out of the desks and leading nowhere. The gangers hadn’t used this specific room at least. Riel, maybe no one had since Threshold completed the wall. Nestra carefully moved to the only door leading further inside and listened.

It was mostly silent, probably because the hour was late. Rather than opening the door, she slid through the wall and into a trash-strewn corridor. Here, the stench was more aggressive but Nestra’s sensory defenses left her unaffected. She carefully made her way through forsaken trash bags, wishing for the day when the skin could cover her feet as well. The symbiotic garment felt her anguish. A few tendrils of darkness creeped down her calves until she stopped it with a thought. There was little point in covering her soles after walking through a kilometer of dusty corridors. Better to focus on the matter at hand.

She was getting distracted. Nestra massaged her eyes to try and wake up. She was so close to something useful that she couldn’t afford to lose if she wanted to find out the truth.

It was a matter of minutes to find the stairs down, by which time she realized with some surprise that most of the doors leading to empty offices were trapped with old-fashioned claymore mines. They even used wires. Aggressive. At least, she was in the right spot.

Carefully, she climbed down while keeping an eye out for cameras. One of them pointed at the stairway and couldn’t be avoided so Nestra slipped down once again, landing into a crouch on the floor below. Probably the third floor. She should have checked before getting in. Amateurish.

A quick check revealed that the second room was used for storage. There were crates in the empty offices with the marking of emergency rations, probably pillaged from the shelters under Fifteen. The food in there could last for centuries so long as the seals held so they made a great prize for people on the run. She also spotted cases of ammunition, a few rifles, and clothes. Lockers presumably held personal effects. She approached the staircase and saw colors for the first time since getting in. There was light, and sounds. Footsteps. Someone was still here.

Nestra creeped by the corner. The stairs down led to a large open space lit by powerful lamps. From that angle, she could see isolating fabric lining the walls and some workstations including a weaponsmith. In one of the corners, monitors displayed camera footage and surveillance data watched by a bored aug. A couple more slept in bags along the wall. She couldn’t see more from where she was but there were a lot of crates, most of them packed. Were they on the way out? They could be rotating between safe houses.

There was probably a place she could drop in. Just had to make sure she wouldn’t be—

“Hey!” a voice rang from behind.

Nestra turned, feeling both shocked and very, very stupid. An aug stood behind her, at the end of the corridor. He was holding a half open bottle of something. Dirty clothes. Matted hair. A machine pistol on a holster.

“Mo— MONST—”

Fuck.

Nestra used momentum to close the distance, grabbed his machine pistol and emptied half a magazine in his unprotected head. A rush of power marked his death. Screams and gasps of alarm rang after the deafening booms. Five of them. Nestra didn’t wait. She dropped through the ceiling on a pair of augs thrashing their way out of sleeping bags. Both had eye implants judging from how they didn’t seem to know exactly where she was. Two men. She shot the lightly auged one and grabbed his knife, a monoblade. A horizontal strike guided by precision decapitated the heavier one. She picked his gun and charged forward.

“User not recognized,” a synthetic voice said.

“Fuck.”

Nestra used momentum to close in with the aug in charge of the cameras even now brandishing a room sweeper with a confused look. He was just as lost as the others, eye implants searching but finding only glitches. Nevertheless, wide choke shotgun bad. She dove low and struck up, gutting him and grabbing the gun. Bullets buzzed past her head. There was a shorter man with curly hair pointing a rifle near a small printer in the distance. He didn’t have eye augs.

Nestra used the dying, gutted aug as a human shield. He screamed and convulsed under the onslaught while Nestra remained untouched. Smelled bad though. The shooting aug slowed down to adjust his sight. He was surprisingly calm, Nestra thought, as she watched him breathe, nervous sweat pearling on his brow. As he did so, she sprinted then used momentum again to appear behind him. He swiveled his gun around but it was too late. The shotgun blast took him in the neck. Even dermal plating couldn’t stop a shell at this range.

There was a crash of glass upstairs. Window. Nestra grabbed her latest victim’s rifle then slipped through the nearest wall. A man, running away to safety, or so he thought.

She lined the rifle and switched to burst fire. There should be at least half a magazine left. More than she needed. The weapon felt so small in her hands. It was more like a toy than a tool of destruction. It didn’t buck under her fingers when she pulled the trigger thanks to her superior strength. The fleeing shape shuddered and stumbled on the uneven ground. Little puffs of blood bloomed where the bullets pierced through whatever defenses he had. One two three. One two three. One two three. The last volley caught him in the neck.

He fell and stopped moving.

Nestra remembered to breathe.

Breathe, that’s right.

Breathe and curse.

“Riel fucking dammit.”

Stupid. Stupid and sloppy. Amateurish. She hated amateurish with a burning passion, and yet here she was, forgetting to sweep rooms clear because she saw something shiny and let curiosity take over her higher brain functions. She could have lost her lead, or even her life acting like a fool. Fuck! At least she remembered to use their own weapons instead of her sword.

Nestra clicked her tongue as she moved to retrieve the body. A quick check showed she could slip back into the den with it so at least she had that going for her. This time, she made sure to quickly sweep the second floor just in case. There was no one there.

Only one person remained in the ground floor’s makeshift infirmary. It was the aug she had wounded this morning. She was dying.

Nestra watched the woman’s heavily bandaged chest move up and down. The aug was younger than she thought, with light alterations that focused on speed and reflexes. It had not helped against a bullet traveling through a damn wall. Her companions did try to do their best, with synth blood transfusion and other drugs but… there was a rattle in her chest, lungs slowly filling with liquids. Her heart beat too fast and her skin was too pale. Organ damage, most likely. Not something that could be fixed here.

There was still a rush of power when Nestra slit her throat. Mind speed, this time. She could recognize the taste. Humans seemed to grant random advantages, and though they were not significant, they were not weakening either. Nestra had diminishing returns with monster deaths but with her peers, either she had not noticed it yet, or there was… no limit to how strong she could grow by killing humans.

She considered this as she gathered the bodies in a pile, thankful that she didn’t have fingerprints in demon form. Was this how it would end? With human undesirables acting as fodder for her growth? A disturbing sensation of kinship filled her mind. Those augs fought her and died without standing a chance because she was simply superior and there were no measures they could have taken, no training they could have followed, that could have saved them from her. They were doomed from the moment Nestra decided to kill them.

She was the gleam now.

It felt… a little sickening. Winning like that didn’t feel good. It felt like cheating. She didn’t mean to summarily execute those people. She only wanted to find a way to lead her side of the human conflict here, so maybe they could be interrogated. They were not dead because she planned on executing them. They were dead because she’d fucked up and left herself with no choice.

Nestra shook her head. She already knew the cause of her torment: overestimating herself and her energy reserves. It was just so unfair! A month ago, she could run all nighters and be functional well into the afternoon, but now? Now she needed over four thousand calories and ten hours of sleep a day or she would forget how to tie her own fucking shoelaces. Gleams were renowned for their amazing stamina! Where was hers hiding? This was bullshit. Utter bullshit.

And also an excuse for her failure. She knew she needed sleep and still thought she could get away with it.

Her fault.

Nestra let herself whine until the bodies were gathered, then she realized there was no real reason to gather them to begin with. Instead, she went to the monitor to see if she could at least erase the surveillance footage. Luckily, the videos were stored on a local hard drive she recovered for her own perusal. The cameras didn’t show reinforcements rushing in so she took some more time looking around the computer. It really was a bare bone setting with no internet access, only security logs that didn’t say much. She only learned the local gangers had been here for a week, that they had a rival gang and a boss called Cleaver which was, in Nestra’s opinion, really fucking tacky. The latest log named the wounded aug as Mai. Her group’s massacre spooked the gangers who were ready to move at dawn.

She found the answer to one of her questions among the available programs. It seemed this safe house was linked to a couple of others, including the one she’d cleared the day before. There was a way to ping the safe house for a status update via the shelter under the hab block.

Nestra knew with absolute certainty that Flash was plugged into that system. He had access to its cameras. She started the program and set it on repeat. Flash wouldn’t fail to notice it.

Hopefully this would be enough to have human Nestra access this place.

After one last look around to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, she left.

***

Nestra was still tired, but at least she would have a respite this morning in the form of an approved medical visit. It was time to meet Mazingwe again.

This time the appointment was at his private practice which happened to be closer to the center of the town. Her car delivered her there without issue, and she used the transit time to check the surveillance footage she’d copied to her visor. After ten minutes of fast forwarding, the prize appeared.

Someone had come to visit, someone familiar. She tried to place him and failed, at first. Heavy augments on his eyes, chest, legs under a tattered waistcoat made an imposing figure. He was tall and bulky with short brown hair. He also no longer had enough flesh to even identify an ethnicity. She stopped the feed when it caught his face at a good angle. There was something about the shape of his implants…

A roof over District Fifteen on the night of the purge. Nestra had shot at a charging tide of stimmed augs and… a heavy weight almost crushed her. This was the one who had jumped on the roof. She’d pushed him back over the edge after paralyzing him with her sword. He was a ganger lieutenant and he’d come a swipe away from killing her.

Huh.

So he did make it after all. And now he was… doing whatever. She kept watching the feed which was now running at normal speed. He wore a heavy blade on his hip, this one too heavy to be really wieldy. It looked like it had been torn apart from a combat walker.

Cleaver. That was Cleaver.

Nestra pushed herself back from her seat, eyes widened as the one of the cameras showed Cleaver opening a wall safe and placing something in it. Demon Nestra had missed it but demon Nestra just wanted to go home at the time. Maybe it was still there. Cleaver left shortly after.

She searched for more visitors but found nothing, only gangers vacating to their occupations with a surprising modicum of discipline.

“You have arrived.”

Nestra blinked. Her car was parked in a nice spot next to a flower pot. In front of her, a glass building rose high. Right. Her health check. She easily found the main entrance, a tastefully decorated affair.

“Can I help you, miss?” a security agent asked, seeing as she was in the uniform she usually wore under her armor.

“Just here for an appointment.”

“Of course.”

Nestra followed the directions to the third floor where she was welcomed by an old lady in an immaculate suit exuding polite competence. Mazingwe still employed a secretary and greeter where most doctors had automated the process, or operated out of a hospital. He was old fashioned like that. She sat down in the waiting room and checked her visor for messages. There was one, from Shinoda, giving her a new address to meet at when she was ready.

It looked like Flash did the right thing. Good guy. She wondered—

***

“Miss Palladian.”

Nestra woke up with a jolt.

“MUOH!”

Golden eyes illuminating a very dark, kind face. Lean muscles. Mana bled out of his frame in both a gentle light and the promise of fire should she stray. There was so much power in this lithe frame, it almost gave her a headache.

He was also holding a cup of coffee and a donut.

“No, Miss Palladian. You may not have my snack.”

“Dr Mazingwe! It has been too long. How are you?”

“A worthy effort at pleasantries, however you still may not have my donut. Is this the moment you will assure me you were not asleep?”

“Why would I? I’m not at the office so you can’t exactly discipline me.”

She shrugged.

“No rules against sleeping in the waiting room.”

In her peripheral vision, Nestra saw a gleam look at her with utter shock. No affinities so not a raider. Maybe a researcher or something. He was leaving.

“I took the liberty of letting you sleep longer, seeing as you were exhausted. It is now ten AM.”

“Shit I need to get back to work.”

“None of that now. I did you a favor.”

Nestra considered it. Maybe he had. It would take the techs hours to comb over the area anyway, and she needed the sleep. She eyed the donut and thought longingly about the bag of croissants in her bag. They were not the freshest but they had a mana-rich almond fillings. Some leftover from a gleam function.

Maybe with some coffee.

“Thanks, by the way,” she finally said.

“Think nothing of it, and now, if you will follow me. I need to ascertain that you are in good health.”

Mazingwe’s office was clean and well-lit by large windows. Several lights would provide a sunny feeling even in winter though the high gleam himself could probably do it just as well by releasing his control. There were several testing machines in the room that tried to look harmless despite the restraint-like bands and other torture chair similarities.

Maybe Nestra was a little biased.

“You look much better than when we last met. Have you perhaps found a workaround for your mana cravings?”

“I have, in fact. Food.”

“Mana-rich food?”

“Yes.”

He leaned against his designer chair.

“And do you also sleep more or was today just a coincidence?”

“I sleep more, yes.”

“Hmmm.”

Mazingwe flexed his long fingers. With his distraction came a rush of barely contained might, the power of the sun just peeking from behind a mountain.

“Your case being unique, perhaps this solution will work in the long run. I am relieved that you seem to be doing so well, though I have concerns about the amount of food you would need to maintain a balance. We will be conducting in-depth tests. It should not take more than twenty minutes.”

It might have been short but it was invasive. Mazingwe took a blood sample then ran various examinations. Blood pressure, visual acuity, X-rays. Everything was done besides a pee sample for which Nestra was quite grateful.

“Interesting. You are in… remarkable health. Better than before when you were exhibiting signs of exhaustion. In fact, some of the results would almost place you in the lowest bracket of users. Have you, perhaps, shown any signs of having quirks? Multiple ones?”

“Nope,” Nestra replied.

Mazingwe stared. He could do that very well.

“No, really! Why would I hide it?” she replied with conviction. “I just feel better and maybe I move a little faster but I don’t have any special tricks or anything.”

At least not in human form, which was all that mattered.

“I see. Hmmm, perhaps they might manifest later. I have equipment to measure the performance of freshly awoken users in the next room. I would like you to take those tests as well.”

“Oh, the machines that tell gleams what they’re worth right after they awoke? Nice,” Nestra replied before she could stop herself.

“Your sarcasm is misplaced, Miss Palladian. Everyone wants to know which way their natural abilities lean so that they may follow an appropriate training path, especially raider candidates. I merely point them in the right direction.”

“What if they have no talent?” she asked, perhaps a little sweetly.

Just enough of the high gleam’s aura pierced through to send her back to her seat with just a hint of vertigo.

“You should know better than most that everyone has their skills, Miss Palladian.”

“Okay, okay.”

“There is also a psychological evaluation.”

“Oh spare me.”

“But considering your career choice and your attitude, I would say they would come considerably too late.”

“Hey!”

“Just one question then. Are you aware that your biting attitude and the way you lash out against perceived figures of authority stems from a deeply ingrained feeling of inadequacy compounded by a desire for recognition of your own merits and the deleterious effect of Threshold’s vertiginous social ladder?”

“Mazingwe, what the fuck are you on about? I’m a simple girl that likes swinging her sword. If I were a gleam I’d be swinging it too and if I couldn’t swing I’d just end it. It’s that simple. I don’t give a shit about politics, respect or hierarchy beyond the basics because it won’t give me what I want, which is, as I said before, swinging my damn sword. Don’t try to overcomplicate me. I know what I am.”

“You may have surprising depths to your character.”

“Nah. I’ll never be a genius and I’ll never be a leader. I accepted that long ago and gleam powers wouldn’t have changed my brain anyway.”

“Hmmm. You seem to be in a good place. I see no cause to push you right now.”

“Thanks.”

“Would a donut convince you to go ahead with my tests?”

“Bribery? Sign me up.”

And so Nestra did the damn tests.

The donut was freaking amazing but Mazingwe refused to say where he got it. There was some very basic weight lifting but most were reflex tests, and once she turned when Mazingwe flashed his aura and he later made a note.

“Well, I have confirmed that you have… slightly superhuman capabilities,” he finished.

Nestra nodded. She knew that already. While demon Nestra’s progress was massive, human Nestra only benefitted from a fraction of her true strength but a fraction of a shit ton of strength was still quite respectable.

“As expected, you knew this but elected not to share this piece of information with me, just as you elected not to tell me you were doing much better. Even though I am your practitioner.”

Nestra frowned as they sat back at the man’s office. He didn’t offer another donut.

“Dr Mazingwe, no one sends messages to their doctor telling them they’re doing fine.”

“And yet I recall asking you to keep in touch last time.”

“I mean sure, but…”

“Specifically.”

He seemed a little annoyed.

“You are angry. Is that why you didn’t shake my hand and ate the first donut in front of me without offering any?”

“I cannot express my annoyance in a clearer manner without overstepping the bonds of courtesy.”

“That was petty. Buuuuut you have always been good and… I suppose you’re right. I should have told you. Sorry.”

“I accept your apologies, and acknowledge that the wounded beast only sees its own pain.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You are a bitch when you’re hurting.”

“OOF! What happened to the bonds of courtesy?”

“I ran out of patience and allowed myself a little folly. Since there are no witnesses.”

“You are a dangerous man, doctor.”

“Oh,” the high gleam said, “you have no idea.”

On the way out, Nestra asked the secretary where that accursed doctor got his donuts.

“Oh he makes them himself. I understand he doesn’t even use a machine for that.”

“Riel! Really?”

“Certainly.”

Talk about VIP treatment.

***

Nestra parked right next to the building she’d infiltrated the night before. The light of the day gave it and its surroundings no quarter. Where night had left some doubt this place could be redeemed, now it appeared as the dead husk it was. Most structures were either collapsed or on their way to be, and those that still stood had been gutted by fire, bullets, or both. This entire place was a lost cause. By contrast, the tech hover van and the few cruisers present were beacons of order and cleanliness.

Nestra found Shinoda by the main gate, drinking miso soup from a thermos. The wind carried hints of umami to her nostrils. She appreciated the nice change from the stench of voided bowels and old blood. It bothered her much more when she was in human form.

“Detective Shinoda. I have a gift for you.”

“You do?”

“Also, miso soup? I figured you for an instant noodle kind of guy.”

The detective cast a shameful glance towards the nearest trash bin set up for the day. Probably where he had disposed of the evidence.

“Ah, very astute of you, Palladian-san. I fear I never learned to cook.”

“There is still time. Anyway, the gift?”

“Douzo. Lead the way.”

Nestra opened the trunk of her car which caused Shinoda to whistle. She had her own rifle there in a black box along with a few other goodies she kept there for the big game. Shinoda hesitated to pick his weapon when she presented it to him.

“Rush order. Got it in time.”

“Is this… legal?”

“You have been deputized. Kim cleared it this morning, or so she said by mail. This is very much above ground. Hell, I even got a grant for it.”

What Nestra didn’t say was that Kim’s budget barely covered the gun, and it didn’t cover the ammo. That was fine for now but she sure as hell hoped she would keep the loot from her next raids.

“Palladian-san. This is a sawn-off shotgun.”

“Tut tut tut this is a ‘Last Ditch’ monster-killer gun. It was designed to look like this. Note the compact frame. You can unfortunately only chamber and shoot one flechette at a time. Got you five mana-charged ones in case we meet some really large hindrance.”

“Uso! This might even stop a D-class beast!”

“It can.”

“You are joking.”

“If you land the shot, it can. I also got you ordinary bullets for augs. Should stop most of them in their tracks.”

“What are they made of? Titanium?”

“Depleted uranium.”

“Palladian-san, chotto, you are joking too much.”

Nestra frowned. The old man was pissing her off.

“Look, detective, I never joke about weapons and survival. This is the realm of gleams and heavily augmented gangers. Feel free to stick to your peashooter and maybe next time, I’m not here and a wired goon will gore you while laughing because you can’t pierce through their defenses. Or you can shut up and accept my gift so maybe you stay alive a little longer. This wasn’t exactly easy to find, wakatta ka?”

“Ah, you are correct. I receive this weapon with gratitude, Palladian-san. Perhaps my previous work has made me too unused to the violence of this place.”

He sighed then touched his chest.

“The most dangerous encounter I had in the past five years was being threatened with a kitchen knife by a scared widow.”

“Ah, sorry.”

“Not to worry Palladian-san. To be fair, she had previously killed her husband, so I was indeed in danger. In any case, let me show you the inside. You have seen the file I sent, yes?”

“I did. And there was something I noticed…”

“What?”

“Come on, let’s get in first.”

The steel door demon Nestra had ignored because doors were for scrubs stood wide open. A few techs milled about next to body bags, having finished their own part of the work. A few more officers stood at the corners of the building with weapons out while uncontrolled, fizzling mana betrayed the presence of at least one low gleam. Kim wasn’t taking any chances.

Despite some fresh air flow, Nestra was almost overwhelmed by how much the place stank. It wasn’t just the fading scent of dead bodies. An acrid aroma of unwashed bodies permeated the air, clinging to the yellow isolating tarps on the walls. A team of techs devoted their attention to one of the weapons workshops though Nestra wasn’t sure what they expected to find. Maybe they would get lucky and find proof Gidung had provided the equipment but she wouldn’t be holding her breath. In any case, people were mostly done here.

“Palladian-san?”

Nestra had been wondering how she would find the drive without appearing too lucky, until she remembered the gangers never really built anything.

“I looked at the picture of the crime scene and then I remembered something. This is a standard class 3 administrative building from the time humanity moved on the Threshold continent. They are all copy-pasted templates designed for convenience so I knew something was missing, and I found it.”

“What was it?”

Nestra sent Shinoda the blueprint. The wall safe Cleaver had used to hide his storage drive came with the building but it had been camouflaged. Shinoda quickly inspected the plan and came to the right conclusion.

“Interesting. Very astute, Palladian-san. Great job.”

He walked to the hidden spot and knocked. The telltale sound of a hidden compartment answered him.

Nestra leaned against a pillar for what followed, which was an interesting mix of excitement and reprimands.

“We were going to finish with this,” a tech assured Kim on his visor.

“Finish? FINISH! What if the gangers hid an explosive in there? From now on, every inspection will begin with a wall check immediately after the area has been confirmed clear of hostiles, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Kim-Nim.”

“You are lucky to be alive. You are operating in a warzone. Do not forget that and change your protocols if you have to. I do not want to attend any more burials.”

“Yes, Kim-Nim. We understand.”

“See that you understand AND remember.”

While the tech in charge got chewed up, another pair finished excitedly dismounting the entire safe door, revealing the soft, juicy secret inside. Nestra got a first good look at the drive. It was… a drive. A widely-available commercial one for people who didn’t want to store stuff on the cloud. Workers who went outside of the walls sometimes carried them to quickly transfer files. It even had a decorative little rabbit painted on the surface which gave Nestra a bit of a mental whiplash. She didn’t know what sort of horror was on there.

“We need to transfer this to a specialist,” one of the techs said with bitter annoyance.

“What?”

“They’re all busy. We have already found an enormous amount of data. I just don’t know when we will get the results.”

“Hold on,” Nestra said.

“Do you perhaps know someone, Palladian-san?”

“I know a girl, yeah. Let me just clear this up with Kim first.”

***

“Got to say, I never expected to work for the rat squad,” Stib said on the call.

“Yeah me neither. At least they let me keep my weapons.”

“But not your honor. Hss! Hss!”

“Stib, I have no honor.”

“That’s just such a weird thing to say for a fencer. Anyway, I checked the data. It’s heavily encrypted.”

“Damn.”

“Buuuut you know me, I still got something for you! So, ok, the encryption? It’s a weird, really high level type that needs two data sets before you can access the decrypted stuff. It’s called a symbolon and it’s really, really high level shit, like top secret corpo projects or the military.”

Nestra’s heart skipped a beat. She knew exactly what it meant. This wasn’t ganger property.

They had taken something from Gidung.

As to why they hadn’t used it yet, she wasn’t sure. Maybe they had to find the other half.

“So yeah, you’ll never get anything complete unless you find the other half. Not even sure the city’s quantum computers could learn anything. Buuuuut there is a catch. It was never meant to be stored on a commercial drive. Someone opened it about… three weeks ago, with the other half, and the drive saved a page in the cache. I managed to recover it. Just, it doesn’t make sense to me. Here, sending it now.”

Nestra shared the document with Shinoda.

Her hopes that it would be a picture of the person responsible for the entire debacle holding a sign that said: ‘I did it! It was me all along nyeeeehehehehehehe!’ were promptly dashed. What Stib had sent her was a very dense table of numbers.

“Those are automated measurements. The column on the left is the date. The next one is the location,” Nestra said.

“You sure?”

“Simplified longitude and latitude markings,” Shinoda explained. “They refer to locations in District Fifteen.”

Nestra blushed a little. District Fifteen’s markers were part of the information packet Kim had sent her but… Nestra hadn’t been very diligent in learning them. It was just a pile of numbers and she’d had limited time.

“What matters is the last line. I recognize the rest. Temperature, pressure, but what are… thetas?”

“An abbreviation for thaums,” Nestra explained. This was her area of expertise after all. As a failed gleam.

“It’s a measure of ambient mana. Not a very good one because it doesn’t work well with aspected mana, but still a good indicator nonetheless. The name is based on some twentieth century writer. Still a rather, ah, not widely accepted unit of measure.”

“So…. someone was measuring ambient mana?” Stib asked.

“And the gangers think it’s significant enough to be kept, possibly for blackmail.”

Nestra pondered the discovery for a few moments.

“I don’t think Gidung is here just to make factories,” she finally said.

But the question remained.

What did they find here?

***

Part 11

It was Wednesday, the third day of her new job.

It was ONLY Wednesday.

“When can I retire?” Nestra asked herself. Actually, forget retiring. She just wanted to get to the weekend so she could… ugh. See her family for some hurtful, pointless drama.

“When will it enndddddd?” she bemoaned.

“Patience, Palladian-san. We are next in queue.”

Nestra glared at the office desk behind which a gaggle of admins shared the same black business suits and annoyed scowls. The official town hall of Fifteen had been repaired and refitted in record time but the result was a sterile office in fresh bruise blue and very light piss yellow (the healthy hydrated kind). Even the flower pots looked like they’d rather be somewhere else.

There was some paint stains on the carpet. Really a rush job then.

“Number twenty-seven please,” a recorded voice said.

Nestra followed Shinoda past the desk and through a series of alleys lined by numbered offices, dodging workers and harried visitors on the way. A screen next to room two-oh-six displayed their names so Shinoda knocked and entered, finding a young blonde woman behind. She had deep pockets under her eyes though the tidy state of her desk showed she hadn’t given up yet. Her clothes were just a little frumpy. Many civil servants had to take a shuttle out of the district before they could even get to the subway so Nestra assumed they were overworked to hell.

“Good afternoon, Miss Knightley,” Shinoda greeted with his usual calm.

The woman blinked, her tired eyes inspecting them both with caution. Nestra said hello when it was her turn to be examined for flaws or whatever.

“Yes. Hello to you too. And, er, welcome to Fifteen’s center for…”

She yawned deeply.

“For administrative yadda yadda. Sorry. How can I help?”

“We represent law enforcement for hab block D-12, Miss Knightley. Sorry for bothering you, but we were supposed to receive a shipment of food and medical supplies this morning and they failed to arrive. We were directed here to find answers. Could you please tell us where they might be?”

“D-12, D-12. Gimme a moment.”

The woman’s eyes glazed over. She had eye augments, Nestra realized. High-end ones. And a mind jack. Threshold hadn’t brought its most useless people.

“Yes. I see. Yes, we have it in storage but we can’t get them out because all outgoing convoys must be first approved by the security deputy. It’s protocol.”

To avoid wasting resources willy-nilly, Nestra surmised. Threshold was already spending a shitload of money trying to protect the place. Too many ‘lost’ supplies and they would feel the pinch, perhaps to a point of failure. It was an easy flaw for Gidung to exploit.

“And is there a problem?”

“Oh, no, not really. The, ah, the deputy, Mrs Fallstar. She is currently out of the district.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the office. Nestra realized the light that came out of the window was fake. It was just a UV lamp hidden behind shutters so the office wouldn’t be terminally depressing. It didn’t seem to help, though, because she’d been wrong about Threshold sending their best.

It would take five seconds for Security Deputy Fallstar to receive the approval by mail and sign it electronically. So what the fuck was that woman waiting for? This was a gleam name, besides, so pretty hard to claim she didn’t have the time. Gleams had more time than anyone else. They didn’t need to sleep as much.

“Any particular reason why she would not be available for approval?” Shinoda asked softly while Knightley fumed in her chair.

“We have been informed that she was otherwise occupied.”

“Would you happen to know when she would return?”

“I am not privy to this information.”

Funny how such a powerful apparatus as the Threshold government could be bottlenecked by a single asshole.

“I see. Then perhaps, another deputy might sign in her stead?” Shinoda continued.

“I don’t think so?”

“The supplies would go a long way to giving us legitimacy,” Nestra added.

“I know that!” Knightley replied, lashing out.

She massaged her eyes. Nestra glanced at Shinoda who delivered the knockout punch.

“Then work with us. I am sure there is a way for protocol that can be technically followed despite the absence of Mrs Fallstar. We are willing to assist you however we can.”

Knightley glanced at Nestra who nodded.

“We are on the same side here. Just want the people to get their supplies. Favor for a favor?”

For a moment, Nestra thought the stressed woman would refuse. Instead, she bit her lips. She was thinking of something. An instinct rose from the demon behind the mask. Expectation. The woman’s attitude was shifting. They were almost in.

“There is something. We got some missing excavation equipment.”

“Excavation equipment?” Nestra asked before she could control herself.

Shinoda gave her a warning sign but Knightley was supremely uninterested anyway. Nestra still ought to be careful showing too much interest in Gidung’s business.

“Yeah. Gidung is digging large facilities, which is also of interest to us because of the job offers. Anyway, one container has gone missing but whoever took it forgot to turn off the GPS. Maybe they’re too stupid.”

“It is likely the culprit is unfamiliar with corporate security protocols,” Shinoda suggested.

“Yeah, that. Anyway, could you go get it for me? If I get you the coordinates?”

Nestra deferred to Shinoda here. He replied after they exchanged another glance.

“Very likely, yes. Send them and we will get a warrant for it.”

“Ok, cool. Ok, that should work. I’ll send them then. Ok, now my part of the bargain. Shit, I hope it works.”

Knightley took a deep breath. Nestra picked a voice coming from near the other woman’s ear a moment later but it was too faint for her to follow.

“Sir, Mrs. Fallstar has not returned yet and I was wondering if — No sir. Yes, since Monday afternoon. I did. No replies. I can’t move the supplies — A security deputy must sign on them. Yes, the protocol leaflet says exactly that, not that it has to be my direct superior. Any deputy would —”

There was silence for a moment.

“Sir,” Knightley risked, “I have over four tons of food clogging the warehouse. You know— yes sir, right away.”

The woman’s expression shifted from tense to triumphant. Shinoda looked pleased as well.

“Finally, something is moving,” Knightley finished. “You’ll do your part then?”

“Of course. We will contact our superior for a warrant immediately.”

“Ok. Keep me up to date on your progress.”

“Of course, Miss Knightley.”

The two left the office after exchanging numbers. Knightley had an exact location for a stolen package, including drone pictures of the garage and of the idiots who visited it. As to why someone would steal from a corp and not even check for trackers, it was as Nestra’s old superior Camus used to say. ‘We only catch the stupid ones.’

It was only a matter of minutes for Kim to reply. She called them rather than send a text.

“Good initiative. We will need a little… flexibility to handle the situation properly. So long as you do not openly break the rules, we will be fine. As for Mrs Fallstar, I’m afraid I cannot do anything. She is well connected and… but it doesn’t matter. One last thing.”

Kim paused. Nestra picked a tapping sound, like someone using a datasheet.

“The data you’ve sent me confirms what Palladian guessed. Those are mana readings over time taken somewhere in the center of District Fifteen.  I asked around and nobody knows why they're important, though the readings are unusually high. They might have been taken near a portal for all we know. For now, we are not sure why they matter, only that they do. My superior believes the Cleaver will endeavor to recover them. As such, you will probably be targeted in the near future. I have arranged for a fast response team dedicated to you, with the one user I trust. He will be on overwatch while you work until Cleaver decides to make his move.”

“Er, won’t he assume we didn’t keep the drive with us?”

“The drive is copy-protected though we had no difficulty breaking that specific piece of encryption, so he will need it specifically. He has no choice. You are his best lead and so he will get to you. Preliminary psychological assessment indicates that he will single-mindedly pursue his goal through any means necessary. He is also arrogant, and might believe we are unable to understand the drive’s worth.”

“That is concerning,” Shinoda noted.

Nestra agreed. Cleaver had military-grade augs the last time they met. He’d also underestimated her and her sword’s electric discharge. It would be different this time, not to mention that tattered coat of his could hide even more cybernetics than before. Assuming the gleam arrived to save them in thirty seconds which was already wildly optimistic, they might be twenty-nine point seven seconds too late to save Nestra’s ass.

That made it exciting. Maybe she could have a rematch? The only thing she couldn’t afford to do was getting caught off guard, but somehow she didn’t think it would be the case. The Cleaver had stopped for an instant when he’d landed in front of her back during the purge because he wanted to savor her fear. He liked feeling in control. He might isolate them but he would make sure they saw death coming.

Demon Nestra was sure of it.

He was a cruel hunter. She felt neutral about his kind. Cruel hunters were confident because they were strong. She just didn’t think he was justified in his belief. Proving him wrong would require some preparation but it would be, oh, so rewarding. Nothing quite like making the mighty fall.

Demon Nestra could win that battle easily. The ability to escape sensors was just the sort of game-changing skill that exemplified why military technology was growing increasingly obsolete. She could basically pop out of a wall and cleave Cleaver before he registered that the glitch was actually a mana-infused sword going for his head.

But that wouldn’t be fun.

Nestra would beat the aug with her human form and her bag of tricks, then she would get the second half of the symbolon and find out what those readings meant exactly. Right now, she suspected they spiked somewhere and Gidung was digging, which would explain the excavation equipment. That was just a theory, though. She still had no idea how that data could be so precious and useful a ganger would value it. She was betting on blackmail material, and assuming the file had more than just readings.

They’d see.

“Are you worried, Palladian-san? This Cleaver person sounds like a dangerous opponent.”

“No, just hoping the data is worth it. I still can’t put a name on whoever screwed us over and I really want to.”

“Patience, Palladian-san. This is a very big fish and we have a small net, ne?”

“As you say. Should we head back?”

“I was thinking that perhaps we should stop at the cafeteria for an afternoon break. You look famished.”

Shinoda was such a good partner.

***

The pair was called to resolve an altercation immediately as they returned to the hab block. Nestra let Shinoda calm both sides down through kind words while she acted like a gargoyle by his side. The two folks causing a scene were merchants with the solid muscles of men who worked for a livingwith their bodies, yet they remained apprehensive around her. Nestra knew of few strong men who would see an average-sized blonde and felt threatened. Those searching eyes, the orientation of their feet, those stank of fear. Physical, tangible fear.  Perhaps it was her reputation finally working, but a part of her wondered if those men could feel the demon underneath, somehow. Threat assessment was a survival skill for those who wanted to conduct biz in Fifteen. They sensed something was off.

Fortunately, the argument died down as soon as the promised supplies arrived. People formed orderly rows without much prompting. Shinoda walked up and down the lines to keep everyone calm. The mood turned festive. For the first time since she came here, Nestra saw people mellow. Someone even gifted her free porridge! It wasn’t long until helpers gave out large crates, crossing names off a list as they went.

“What do they even contain?” she asked Shinoda.

“Fruits. Leafy greens. Baby formulas and supplements for new mothers. People here do not lack protein or sugar but their diet is poor in fresh vegetable products. The goal is to remedy that. Canned food will also be made available in the near future.”

“That’s good. The mood is already impro— what’s that?”

Nestra spotted drones coming in close from the space above them. She made for her gun, ready to drag Shinoda to cover until she recognized their colors. The streamlined design marked them as Gidung drones, the advertisement kind. They stopped slowly over the muttering people and holographic projections soon popped above everyone’s head, showing an elegant East Asian woman in a perfectly tailored dress.

“Hello everyone, and greetings live from the Gidung arcology! I am so glad to be here with you today, and I hope you enjoy the little gifts we’ve prepared for you!”

It… was paid by the city? Nestra smoldered in silence. The cheery tone left people grim and detached but it wouldn’t last. Gidung’s PR teams would turn the tide soon enough.

“As new members of the Gidung family — if you agree, of course! — we would have exciting new opportunities for you, great ways to improve the city, gain new skills, provide for your families and, of course, have some fun! But don’t take my word for it. Let’s go ask Mr Choi!”

The camera switched to a swarthy man with a tan and the protective hat of a construction worker. His sleeveless vest held an array of tools. She recognized the detector attached to his sleeve, a tool that warned its user if it detected anything harmful. The real deal then, though probably briefed. So the tactic was to position Gidung as a rich corpo, then show how it could lift people? Devious.

“Hello everyone, lay ho, sour s’dey, —”

The image fizzled. Though the drones remained stationary, something had gone wrong.

The entire hab block’s population watched the ever eccentric Flash walk out from his shop with the frazzled look of someone nursing a terrible hangover. His fingers danced on a datasheet as he spoke.

“Aiyoh, so noisy, just diam la. Who’s the atas bitch anyway? Can explain or?”

“That’s your sponsor,” one of the workers unloading the truck said, though a smile lifted the corner of his lips.

“Fuck that. Who wants to listen to English Neo-Grunge instead?”

A collective groan rose from the queue. Nestra thought she could see those already holding their bags of goodies walk away just a little faster.

“You guys have no taste eh. Then at least keep quiet.”

He returned to his well-deserved rest. Nestra was pretty sure she could see why the community tolerated his antics now. She sure felt like doing the same.

“Ah, a terrible case of malfunction, Palladian-san,” Shinoda said.

“Shabby drones for sure. Bad connection maybe,” she added.

“I wish we could help, but we are poor detectives with no technological knowledge.”

“I’m not even a detective!”

“There is nothing we can do.”

“I am sure the masses were touched by the message of our benevolent corpo overlords for the twenty seconds it lasted.”

“Sou desu ne? It will have to suffice.”

With their duty fulfilled for the day, the two officers saw the distribution to the end and then went home.

***

It was night again, and Nestra was tired. Her demon teeth shore through a bag of mana carrots with vengeful fury. Their orange defenses didn’t stand a chance! Alas, that victory was short-lived, for Nestra had to raid again, and she didn’t want to.

Raiding was fun and all but she was so damn ready to take a break. It had been three days of non-stop work, battles, or preparation with every waking hour. She was mentally strained and sleep-deprived, and yet she would still fight tonight. The benefactor had said something was coming. Nestra needed power and she needed it fast. Even an incremental increase in speed would give her human mask just that little bit of edge that would make the difference between detonating an EMP in Cleaver’s face or catching a power fist with her jaw. She couldn’t afford to slow down.

It had also been several raids without good food. This madness had to stop!

The portal in front of her hid in the corners of an abandoned arcade, in a maze designed for laser tag games. If the tree portal in the BaiHua arcology could have been spotted by a passing gleam, this one was definitely a breach in waiting. The nearest cameras only caught the lockers.

“They should have knocked it down,” she hissed.

As before, her voice came out in that strange language she could speak by instinct.

“Nothing to it.”

Nestra slipped through the portal, sword out, and found herself in yet another dark corridor.

For a moment, she thought she was back in an infinite war scenario, but the bricks of the walls were different, the passage narrower. Light came from white-fire torches rather than dim reddish lamps. This could only mean one thing.

A trap world!

“Noooooooo!”

Trap worlds had few strong ambush predators, but were otherwise rather empty. More importantly, they didn’t have vegetation. This was the worst for her! No food!

“Benefactor you big idiot, what am I even doing here?”

Pah.

Well, come to think of it, maybe she could improve her perception through training. It was possibly the most important skill for a lone raider like her. Not like she had a choice.

Ok, so this was a slightly below average D-class world, much smaller than the previous one so progress would likely be linear and trapped less viciously. Nestra only had a passing knowledge of those worlds because she was expected to be a frontline swordsman while traps and detection were more of a scout role. To be prosaic, scout raiders were selected for stealth, intelligence gathering, and heightened awareness while Nestra was training to cut things to ribbons. Those were different skill sets. Fortunately, she had several advantages, chief among them being her demon sight. She could see gravel at the end of the corridor even though it was darker than inside a darkling’s rectum and human raiders would have been waving torchlights by now. It was time to put those senses to good use. She merely needed to take it slow and stay focused which was absolutely what a hungry, tired demoness with a shortening fuse and the creeping threat of hubris would be terrible at.

“It’s a stress test, isn’t it?” she asked the ceiling.

Alas, there was no answer. Sighing, she first had a good look at the alley in front of her.

It went on for ten meters then sharply veered right.

She could already count two traps. One was a pressure-plate snare though she couldn’t see what would happen if it were triggered. The other was a knee-high thread, almost invisible. Tiny openings on the ceiling matched her knowledge of poisoned darts.

Only a complete imbecile would assume that was it. Nestra decided to take it slow, testing the stones ahead of her for more pressure plates. Her eyes crossed and her vision blurred trying to find tiny wires across the way but there were none. After ten minutes of grueling efforts, she reached the end of the passage.

There had only been two traps. The pressure plate triggered spears hidden nearby thanks to a trick of perspective.

“Uuuuuugh I’m going to be here until 6 AM with NO FOOD!”

Wait, she shouldn’t speak out loud. Nestra approached the side of the corridor and stabbed a spider-thing hiding on the ceiling in the middle of a pool of unnatural darkness. Completely useless against her. Her perception improved, which gave her the same feeling of satisfaction as ever. A new foe! This one wasn’t much but there were bound to be more exciting creatures around.

The dying arachnid dissipated in a gust of malodorous gas.

Not edible then.

Nestra looked around the corner. Another passage extended for a dozen of meters. A mana ring at the end flared as she watched, the image of an open eye drawn in the middle. She pulled back.

A roaring ball of flame rushed past her face before splattering harmlessly against a nearby wall. The temperature increased a bit.

A sight-activated trap. Nasty! Maybe this world did present a challenge after all.

Progressing slowly, Nestra killed another shadow spider with the same result. This corridor had a large pitfall right before a very obvious thread crossing the corridor in its middle. Naturally, the obvious thread was a decoy and, naturally, it was trapped anyway. Nestra just skipped under it rather than trying fancy stuff like deactivating the trap to recover the components. This was a nerd activity for people with too much time on their hands. She was here to loot stuff and eat monsters and she was all out of both.

“This fucking place…”

The next alley annoyingly turned right again. It was also larger and the entire ground was made out of pressure plates spread out in squares. Mana lined the wall, though she wasn’t good enough to say what would specifically try to ruin her day.

Nestra was annoyed because she could just use momentum to cross the entire grid but… that would be cheating.

Fine.

Those types of traps usually used some sort of writing to mark a safe path. It wasn’t mana this time, so there was probably something that could only be seen by thermal or ultraviolet sights. She couldn’t tell, but a deeper examination revealed a difference in a grain of the stone, almost imperceptible. Only the most observant of scouts could have found those! She painstakingly followed the markings, finally identifying a recurring rune forming a single path across the grid. She didn’t know what that rune was because she had never studied them. Hell, she didn’t even recognize the writing system. It should be ok, however.

Nestra took a deep breath and pushed the stone down with her exposed toe. Nothing happened.

She stepped more confidently.

The mana in the walls remained quiescent.

Encouraged by her success, Nestra moved on the path with determination, keeping her eyes peeled for…

There was an opening in the shape of a door set in a nearby wall.

Excitement filled her veins. Traps and enigmas sometimes had an easy, safe option and a subtler one. The runes of the grid could probably be followed to form a secret sentence that would open the nearby passage, an option closed to Nestra, except, she didn’t need it, did she? A jump, and she slipped through the opening and into an unlit room.

There was a chest in the middle. It was locked. There was also something in the air she didn’t like. Not exactly poison, more like a presence. A shift in the air. Nestra came closer to the chest and realized it was most likely trapped. She removed a small vial from her gear and poured half of it in the lock. It was a basic chest so this kind of measure might work. An acidic stench soon filled the room which helped Nestra realize the uncomfortable sensation wasn’t smell, or magic. It was… space.

She unsheathed her blade. The fabric of the world shifted ever so slightly.

Breathe in, breathe out. Feel the ubiquitous pavement under her sole. It was a bare room. Would it help? She didn’t know.

A shiver.

Nestra turned on herself and struck. Her blade landed on a set of dark teeth, not the same as hers but close. Beady dark eyes glared with utter malice. When the void shark passed by her, its power pushed her back and the raspy skin ground against hers like a peeler. She twisted on herself and struck down but her attack was too hasty. It bounced against its muscular tail.

“I knew it! You little shit.”

Nestra dove to the side then struck up, drawing blood. The beast was fast, faster than her, but it could only move forward and with a lower range of lateral motion. Blood on her blade. Good.

The void shark screeched strangely. Nestra winced at the deafening, alien sound that twisted her mind like a physical presence. It stopped her from reacting on time to dodge the next lunge. No time. Place the blade in front.

The teeth closed on the manablade with a dreadful shriek. Very, very strong. She was pushed back painfully against the wall but managed to keep the creature at bay. Her arms screamed. So close, the beast’s face gained a wolfish appearance that woke up ancestral instincts of panic in the human recesses of her mind. If those tenebrous jaws closed on her, she was finished.

She let go with her left arm. The blade’s tip clanged against the wall, close to her throat but only for the moment it took to smash the shark on the eye, again. Her foe shrieked and swerved sharply. Nestra stared at her sword with disbelief while the creature sped away for another pass.

There were teeth marks on it!

“Oh that is IT!”

The shark disappeared behind a wall but she could feel it, swimming just under the fabric of reality. It thought it was smart. When it surged out again she was ready. She used momentum to place herself above the emerging creature as it swam in head first. Her arms grabbed its sandpaper skin with all the strength she could muster. Harsh. Cold. The shark struggled against the demon on its back.

She pushed herself forward, grabbed its fin. This was it. Revenge would be hers!

Despite the shark’s best efforts, Nestra would not relent in her quest for justice. She grabbed the precious appendage and, with a supreme effort, bit down hard.

Her teeth pierced through skin and cartilage like butter. It… didn’t taste very good. Too fishy, the mana too acid but… what power! It was very filling. Needled by the pain, the shark finally managed to push her off by slamming her against a nearby wall. Nestra gasped in pain as it retreated at the end of the room. Only her endurance allowed her to jump to the side on time to avoid a flying chest tossed at her by a furious tail swing.

She stared the maddened beast down while swallowing the unsavory lump of its flesh. A matter of principle. The half moon crescent of the fin’s wound bled a silvery liquid. Her prey screeched mournfully from the atrocious pain but Nestra didn’t care.

For a second, the two adversaries circled each other, then the shark relented. The last Nestra saw of it this time was the flash of malicious outrage on its predatory head.

“Serves you right,” she accused. “Bothering me while I’m hunting myself! I hope you get jumped by a pack of rabid void dolphins you nasty spoilsport.”

Nestra kept screaming at the brick wall for the better part of a minute. It was a necessary cathartic experience after that whole trap session. Her elation doubled when she realized the chest was now open. What the vial of acid had started was finished by the void shark’s mighty tail strike, and the contents had spilled from the spike-covered remains of the precious container.

Nestra was suddenly very glad she’d dodged the chest before its defenses could trigger.

As for the contents, well, there were two… but that was all she needed.

“Arm guards! It’s perfect!”

Her second artifact. Truly, raiding temporary portal worlds really yielded the best results. The armbands were a dull silver with serpentine patterns, clearly not designed by humans or, indeed, for them. Some of the shapes seemed distorted to accommodate a larger wrist. She had a good look at them for anomalies but contrary to the spear she’d found, there were no strange mana signatures to spoil her fun. Only reinforcement and size adjustment enchantments.

“Yessss!”

Nestra tried them on. Clasps encircled her forearm to adjust the size while the silvery sheen took on life of its own.

And then, the skin expanded, inky tendrils covering the artifact. Snaking lines spread over every piece of the defensive gear on both sides. Nestra just stared on, paralyzed with surprise.

“What?”

The metal bubbled ominously.

“What?”

In less than ten seconds, her skin armor dissolved and digested the artifact until nothing was left. When the lines retreated, the skin could now cover up to her ankles. It had expanded.

“What? How can my fucking dress eat before me! Nooooo.”

Her precious artifact.

Gone.

Nestra bounced her head against the nearest wall, wailing in frustration at the unfairness of it all. Her horns got in the way of her broody display which ruined the moment. That led to another moment of frustration.

Nestra paused.

Nestra frowned.

It was weird to say so but the demon formed felt flightier and more easily annoyed than her human one. It also tired faster. She made a checklist.

Constantly hungry.

Constantly annoyed.

Sleepy at odd hours.

Outgrowing her clothes with annoying regularity.

Significant body changes.

Constantly confused.

The natural conclusion dawned on her.

“Fuck. Am I a teenager?”

The only thing missing was constantly horny, except that had never been the case for her. Was she abnormal even for a demon? She wasn’t sure. She couldn’t be sure, in fact, since there was no one around to ask the fucking questions. The benefactor better have a lot of answers when she finally cornered them.

After ‘coping and seething’ for a while, as Aunt Claire tended to say, she decided it was time to finish that damn world. She slipped back through the wall.

Her feet depressed the tile directly below her.

Click

The trapped tile.

The tile she had specifically used momentum to avoid.

“Fu —”

Spears from the ceiling. Sidestep and move back. Whistling darts. Crouch and pass below. Another click. Spears, from the side. Grab one and twist, pushing her feet towards the wall. Jump forward after another rain of darts. Use momentum and land on a safe tile.

Click

“—ck.”

The room returned to normal.

Nestra massaged her horns, which were painful right now. Another mistake. Another stupid mistake. Had to do better.

“Ok, ok. Calm down and move on. Slowly.”

There was nothing else to do. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe demon hormones or something. That wasn’t important. What was important was playing the deck she’d been dealt and stop acting stupid.

With a refreshed hatred for life, Nestra faced the next bend in the path, which went left. This one went back to basics with the corridor being wider and crossed by the thinnest threads she’d seen yet. It was a maze of spider-like extensions. Magical traps lined the place, showing the common runes for sound and tension but fortunately, she was really quiet this time. Even the two ambushing spiders she killed next were dealt with quietly.

The symbols would have triggered if she had used something to sever the threads, perhaps like the pruners scouts were so fond of. It was a pretty nasty place for one supposedly so easy. The shadow spiders were probably the worst of it. If the portal had breached, those creatures would have spread and killed dozens of civilians before they were all found.

This was what the world looked like outside of the walls.

One last corridor remained. It led to a wide, open entrance beyond which a cave waited. This one had the entire floor trapped with only a dozen or so tiles safe for passage. The key was to watch for the tiles that were irregular, rather than split into geometric patterns. She crossed that one easily, then slaughtered the three spiders by the door. Her perception was visibly improving. It was an amazing change.

“I could have just finished this in five minutes by using momentum,” she bemoaned.

But that would have been lazy.

Now she was stronger and more experienced, she told herself as a coping mechanism. The last cave showed the expected treasure pedestal and nothing else at the ground level. Her gaze traveled up because that was almost always where the guardian hid, appearing from above like a cheap trope. And here it was. She beheld her final prey as it waited within a pool of unnatural darkness, and she weeped.

“Yes. Yeesssssss. Finally!”

It was a crab.

A very big crab with large pincers. Nestra couldn’t wait, so she grabbed her gun and shot one of its fucking legs off so it would hurry down.

The creature screeched and fell in a thunderous crash that sent shards of stones raining on Nestra’s uncaring body. The demon was already charging before the tremors could stop. She recognized her prey. Manastacea Cancer Irrotatus. It was well known across the city for its nature. In fact, it was considered to be…

A delicacy.

“You are MINE!”

She sought the thinner section behind the claw before the crab could recover. Nestra used precision to guide her strike to that weak spot. Infused steel carved through the shell in a cataclysmic shock before she retreated to avoid a side claw sweep.

The rock crab gurgled and grabbed its useless flopping claw with the other one. Nestra closed the distance, intending to use the distraction.

The crab tore the wounded claw off and threw it at her. It was too late to use momentum. All she could do was block, but the beast’s strength sent her rolling against the ground.

Guided by the Scornful Crescent, Nestra jumped to her feet just as the crab charged her sideways. She used momentum to slide out of the way of the charge which hit the nearest wall and sent tremor throughout the cavern. Stalactites fell, though Nestra managed to weave between them. A sword strike crushed a second leg just as the crab freed itself. She realized it was slow to turn.

Staying on the side with the missing claw, Nestra went to town on her victim. It tried to strike her but she managed to stay one step ahead. At some point, the crab stood on the remaining legs to spit something at her.

The spray wasn’t even close and since it was stationary during the attack. she cut off its two remaining legs on that side. The crab collapsed, alive but disabled. All of the limbs on one side had been smashed.

It took her thirty seconds to safely cut off the other claw, then to execute it by stabbing through its mouth. A rush of power came to her, tasting like resilience and hardened skin which was always useful. She’d picked the safe option and it was fine, but other worlds may have hordes of those creatures and they would need to be killed quickly. She made a note of their weak point.

“Riiiiight.”

Nestra ignored the reward on the altar next to the exit portal. It was time…. to harvest! Sadly, the rock crab was male so there were no eggs to be found but she packed the legs and both claws before dragging them out. She pocketed the two mana crystals and the other reward which turned out to be magnetic stones useful for geomancers. They would fetch a decent price. Finally, she was out and back into the maze.

There was a congratulatory message along with a promise that the benefactor was working on something to help her soon. It was time for her to gamble.

“Look, I know you’re out there, so I have a request. I can’t take the claws with me since they’re too big, but since you seem to be able to move around freely, well, let’s just say that if I arrive at the Nestracave and the claws happened to be there, I’d be super grateful.”

With only a couple of cut legs with her, Nestra left for her motorcycle. The trip home was filled with anxiety but when she arrived at her base, there was a pile of crab parts waiting for her on the table.

She almost squealed until she realized… there was only one claw.

A message was stuck to the lone survivor. It just said: 50% taken as charge ;)

“I will never need a sex life because taxes fuck me every day.”

***

Nestra watched the spheres of power gravitate around the deepening lake that was her mana pool, its waters a deep cobalt. While most had erred across the room as dead orbs when she’d first come here, now they formed a harmonious planetarium. The three radiant gray orbs representing her mana control, might, and regeneration lagged behind though they still felt unreasonably strong for D-class, much like the rest of her. Her awareness and mind speed rushed at the periphery as vigilant guardians. The mightiest remained pure strength, and now because of the rock crab, resilience, with celerity slightly lower. Resilience was also unbound and now it was time to use it.

Momentum came from binding power and celerity, precision from binding awareness and celerity. The wall slip came from awareness and magical control but now she felt she needed battle options more than utility. With a gesture, she bound power and resilience.

A new concept bloomed in her mind. At first, it struggled with the part of her that followed the Stalk of the Scornful Crescent. After all, that style relied on breaking the enemy’s rhythm and the new concept would, in theory, slow her down. It was wrong, however, and she saw it immediately.

She decided to name the new concept ‘immovable’. So long as she stood where she was, her presence would anchor her to her location, significantly increasing her resistance. The issue was that she couldn’t move away from her location but that was fine. Sometimes, breaking an enemy’s pace came more easily when a strike didn’t lead to the expected result. It would be fun to try, at least, and she knew she would get plenty of opportunities.

After that, Nestra visited the resistance room and stared painfully at the two missing shields lacking on the wall. Those were heat and cold. She still hadn’t gained any resistance in those.

Riel, she hoped there wouldn’t be a volcano world.

Anxiety hounded her until she reminded herself that not all could be bleak when there was crab leg for breakfast.

***