Thalyn woke with the taste of iron on her tongue. The ceiling above her hummed faintly, one strip of light coughing, jittering between life and death. She swung her legs off the cot, boots thunking to the floor, and padded into the corridor.
The table was already occupied. Elara sat forward, hands folded with a healer’s patience, though her violet eyes betrayed worry. Verrik fidgeted beside her, fingers jittering on the steel, hair damp as though he’d tried and failed to scrub fear away. Across the table, Hurst leaned like a wall, scarred hands flat, voice low and hard enough to bruise. Korr hunched in the corner, slate cracked in his lap, lips moving as he stabbed phantom equations into the air with one skeletal finger.
They stopped when Thalyn entered.
Verrik forced a nervous smile, words tumbling. “We were, ah, just talking about my brother. About the Bleakshards.”
The name carried the sting of broken glass.
Thalyn hooked a chair close with her boot and dropped into it. “Then you’ll be glad to know I’ve got a way to kick their nest. The relics, they’ve given me more than tricks. I can shake them until something breaks loose.”
Hurst’s eyes narrowed. “You mean to go alone.”
“It’s safer,” she replied. “Stealth is what I do. Unless one of you has an Elder toy hidden in your socks, I’m the only one holding the ring.”
Elara’s lips parted, shut, then parted again. She studied Thalyn the way surgeons measure distance to an artery. Finally, softly: “You might be right.”
Korr blinked up from his slate, eyes bloodshot, words snapping like wires. “Statistically, noise equals risk. One person is quieter than four. Especially one with… augmented geometry.” His hand flicked vaguely in her direction, fingers sketching invisible graphs.
And then Arvie slid in. “Don’t forget to tell them you come bundled with a sarcastic AI, free trial, no refunds.”
Thalyn’s fingers tapped once on the table. “See? Everyone agrees.”
Verrik leaned in, voice breaking on its own urgency. “I know their hideout. Had to deal with them. For my brother’s sake. Supplies… shipments.”
Arvie chimed again. “Take the purifier. It’s not just a filter. After soaking up the local toxins, it’s programmable, reverse it, and you’ve got a polite little plague in your pocket.”
Thalyn arched a brow. “Korr. The purifier. I can use it.”
Korr’s teeth hissed against each other. His hands burrowed through his clutter until the thing emerged: half crystal, half lattice, humming faintly. “Stable. Mostly.”
“Mostly will do,” she said, tucking it away.
Breakfast was rations, stale and joyless. Verrik gave her his brother’s ID. Thalyn chewed the last bite, washed it down with lukewarm water, and stood.
The breather mask locked into place as she stepped into the undercity. Behind her eyes, the mental map bloomed, streets and caverns like veins in a sleeping beast. She marked the Bleakshards’ nest and let her gut carry her deeper.
The slums breathed around her, alleys tight as throats, steam curling from vents, the stink of boiled fungus and unwashed bodies. She passed a pair of ghouls in shackles, their handler swearing as the things clawed at the walls, wailing. Barefoot children hissed gutter-slang and scattered at the shimmer of her eyes.
Near her mark, the crowd thickened. She slipped on the ring. The air itself forgot her. Voices leaked in, jagged, blunt-edged.
“Guy skimmed. Took the slick. Stupid.”
“Boss don’t care. Wants his cut. Don’t pay, don’t walk.”
“You tell him, see how many teeth you keep.”
The speaker jabbed a thumb toward a sagging warehouse lit with gutterflame. She circled it, found a window sealed in corroded mesh. One touch, one murmur through Arvie, and the lock sighed open.
Inside, mold, incense, dust like dead skin. She prowled until she jacked into a system console. Arvie surged through.
“Your boy Verrik’s brother, he fed them scrap fuel, weak charge-cells. Last batch was trash. They bled him for it. He vanished after.”
The door slid open, footsteps, heavy, deliberate. Before he could turn, She slid close, a hand at his neck, pressing the right nerves. He folded to the floor like a marionette with cut strings.
Outside, a stairwell spiraled down. Voices swelled: Bleakshards mid-argument, shouting over each other about Verrik’s brother, about the men they’d lost.
And there: a droid, sentinel before an iron door.
“Closer,” Arvie whispered.
She crept. The droid’s optics flared. “UN…” it barked, then froze, its voice glitching into silence. It rotated back into place, inert.
“Mine now,” Arvie said smugly.
“Make it swing wild. Scare the lot of them.”
The droid lurched forward, arms hammering, scattering gang voices into chaos. Steel fists hit walls.
“Shit! Droid’s loose!”
“Who tripped it, kill it!”
“Back off, back off!”
Thalyn pulled the mapper relic free. It whirled, painting the house into her mind, vaults, choke points, exits, and returned to her.
She pulled on the breather mask and lifted the purifier. “Arvie. Reverse it. Gentle dose. Just enough to tuck them in.”
“Your wish’s my toxin, my queen.”
The relic rose, spun, and belched shimmer. One by one, Bleakshards staggered, dropped, voices guttering mid-curse. The purifier clattered to the floor, she scooped it up.
The droid clanked obediently to her side. She checked her mental map and pointed toward the vault. The lock clicked open under Arvie’s invisible hand. Weapons, rare metals, chips gleamed inside.
“Take it all,” she ordered. The machine obeyed, arms piled high.
They left through the front. A guard barely had time to gape before she dropped him. Onlookers stared at the sight of a loaded droid lumbering away, but none dared interfere.6Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVVq2o6yes5
The HQ alley was mercifully empty. Inside, the others jumped at the sight of the droid.
“Relax,” Thalyn said, stripping off the ring. “He’s housebroken.”
Arvie chuckled in her head. “For now.”
Verrik leaned back in awe, Korr sputtered nonsense, and Elara just shook her head slowly.
Thalyn told the droid to drop the loot, march to the nearest Directorate checkpoint, purge memory and shut down.
Then she recounted what she’d seen, the brother’s failed dealings, the poisoned gang, the loot. “They’ll blame the Directorate,” she finished. “Not us.”
Hurst’s gaze stayed fixed, unreadable steel.
But before anyone could speak, Arvie whispered, quiet now. “The ring fed on you while you wore it. Some of the relics will. Drain enough, and you’ll hollow out, lose focus. Apathy, depression, maybe worse. You’ll need rest. More than usual.”
Thalyn drew in a long breath. “Side effects,” she said aloud. “These artifacts cost mental drive.”
The room went still. She dragged herself to her quarters, dropped the satchel, collapsed on the cot. Sleep claimed her boots and all.
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and then Add to home screen.