25.5

*ACT YoE 4,173/LT May 27, 2072, at 0000

Arasaka Headquarters

Black Ops Area

Ripping Room #4

Eve’s lips moved without sound as she watched through the one-way meter-thick unbreakable composite plasteel glass. In front of her, strapped to a dissection table, was one Mr. West-One. Doctors skilled in mana research were currently turning him from a man into materials. The final pieces were sliced, diced, and cataloged as she finished her ritual chant.

The battle to secure the invader’s corpse hadn’t been epic; Eve had teleported the invader to an Arasaka-controlled lab without challenge. From there, a rather effortless beatdown occurred. After getting the invader under sealing runes and processing them to the point any doctor would consider brainwashing less invasive, the rest was straightforward. Every spatial movement left a trace and was merely a matter of decoding to track them.

Eve sighed with relief as the ritual to preserve the body took hold. At least this invader was an idiot and not some eldritch system spawn. Retrieving the Dolls would be no issue now that the mind-melted moron was no more. There was no understanding of someone who would instead get their candle wick dipped and not escape. Due to how the Depths worked, wherever he had planned to flee when they first met had to be nearby. They must be near in terms of dimensional coordinates. The idiot didn’t have enough power for multiple jumps or a lengthy one.

It was also clear Mr. West-One was a coward, one who had depended on being able to ‘world escape’ at will. Spatially teleporting to arrest him had been a shock; apparently, he’d never considered that he couldn’t just leave. The inability to depart hadn’t shocked Eve; how could someone expect to leave if their very method of transport depended on factors that were no longer available? His pathetic attempts to move the mana, which he called chakra in his memories, were laughable inefficiencies.

Teleporting to a saved spatial mana mark in front of her? Hopeless.

Turning away from the dissection, Eve faced her allies in the bare bones steel room adjacent to the dissection. Green Alchemy was ridiculous in many ways. Michiko, Crystal, Cho, Kei, Rabbit, and Fluff had fully recovered in five days. The recent event was an extravagant wake-up call. Even now, the Arasaka AI was adapting to the slew of new forces from outside the world fragment. The influx indicated that the Depths were connected once the ambient mana level was high enough to sustain such action.

“Thoughts?” Eve asked while floating an inch above ground as Michiko, Crystal, and Cho stood before her. All of them having arrived via the adjacent observation area door. Kei, Fluff, and Rabbit were to the ladies' left, near the door. Unsurprisingly, those with similar interests grew closer over the last two years.

Michiko broke the silence first after a thoughtful pause, “These breaches were not an isolated act. The ambient mana rising would be the reason?”

Eve nodded in agreement, saying, “The invaders are moving to infiltrate before the Seals are completed.”

Crystal sounded out, her voice as calm and measured as the steady hum of mana in her crystalline bones. “Should we recalibrate the Seals into an adaptive defense for now? If I understand things, such a defense only needs to last until they are completed.”

Kei’s eyes brightened at the words as his cybernetic fingers quickly danced along an intricate holo-interface, displaying layered maps of the surrounding territories' spatial coordinates and energy flows to each Free City. “We can deploy a trace and track Ritual,” Kei said, “linking each Seal to a central matrix within the appropriate Arasaka Tower in range. Any breach from invaders will trigger immediate countermeasures—a cascade of mana feedback and escalating the issue directly to Hunters via the message bounty boards.”

Eve’s lips curled into a wry smile. “Every invader into this world fragment would be met by a web of interlocked Seals—impenetrable fortresses built not just of stone or magic, but of eddies to Hunters of the Free Cities. A problem solved with money...”

“…is no problem at all for Arasaka.” Michiko finished with a quick smile flashing across her face.

Eve closed her eyes briefly, channeling the residual mana from the processed invader, and wove it into the incantation that would bind the new method of intrusion countermeasure. This would be one of the last things she did for her part of the Contract with Michiko. “For every breach, there is an eye; for every eye, there is a Hunter,” she intoned softly, each syllable resonating with a promise of retribution and revenge.

Outside, the ambient mana of the Arasaka Tower swelled as if in response to the combined will of the spell’s caster. Once erratic and vulnerable, the ancient ley lines buried deep beneath the world pulsed with renewed purpose. The rapidly recalibrated Seals began to shimmer in their place underneath each Free City, their luminescence a barely discernible glow underground.

Once the spell was complete, Eve’s form immediately transmuted into the recognizable one of Silver, the best of Arasaka’s premier specialists. Her transformation was iconic—a fusion of high-end cybertech and ancient arcana she had personally designed. The equipment defined a premier Netrunner with a legendary rep in both the Net, and combat. Within seconds, the silhouette coalesced from shifting, holographic fibers, seamlessly blending cutting-edge neon circuitry with ethereal, rune-etched fabrics. Each piece of attire, a futuristic edge, topped by a long, asymmetrical coat woven with luminescent data streams and augmented with subtle magical sigils, evoking a digital Hunter's gritty yet surreal aura. The blade at her side murmured in digital code like a half-remembered song of blood and battle.

Eve’s eyes were runically augmented with digital overlays and flickered with streams of code interlaced with mystical energy. Intrinsically, this gave her the unmistakable air of one who navigated the treacherous matrix and the hidden corridors of the net’s digital and arcane underbelly. Adorned with cyberized runic implants that pulsed in sync with ancient blood rites, she embodied the perfect blend of techno-wizardry and street-honed grit—a digital sorceress in a world where magic and machine were indistinguishably intertwined.

Silver was Eve’s constructed persona, well known as a sultry digital enchantress in the neon jungles of Noir City—a netrunner whose prowess was matched only by her intoxicating allure. Known for her irresistible magnetism and unbridled sensuality, she didn’t just hack systems; she seduced them, leaving a trail of shattered security and whispered fantasies in her wake.

Her signature netrunning suit was tailored to her bombshell body, every curve accentuated by its reflective surfaces and pulsating neon accents in every shade of silver. The tailored design was as provocative as it was futuristic, highlighting her toned form and the delicate interplay between power and desire. Every movement was precise, bleeding grace, both a masterstroke in code-breaking and a deliberate, seductive strut—advertising both her skill and power in one.

All present saw Eve’s eyes burn like digital, metallic, tinted embers, her presence effortlessly captivating everyone’s sight. Over the past two years, she had become not merely a legend of the data streams but an alluring force of nature, seducing the very fabric of the cyber world one irresistible hack at a time.

A twist of Spatial Step landed Eve in the neon-drenched corridors of Noir City, as she stepped into the Afterlife like a comet blazing through the dark. Draped in her signature Netrunner suit of reflective silver, every contour of her attire captured and refracted the club’s pulsating lights, transforming her into a living prism of futuristic elegance. Her presence was magnetic—a gorgeous lady with an allure that was both enigmatic and commanding. It had taken time to build a reputation that preceded her. Carefully planted whispers in the digital underground spoke of her deft manipulation of data streams and her uncanny ability to breach the most fortified cyber fortresses. Already aware of her target for the darkened hours, she navigated the labyrinthine space of the expanded Afterlife, her eyes—sharp and calculating—scanning the room, every glance decrypting secrets.

As everyone knew, her silver garb wasn’t just a fashion statement; it was an armor, a symbol of her mastery over both the physical and virtual realms. In a world where code was as lethal as any weapon, she balanced grace with grit, allure with intellect. As she moved through the crowd, her steps were measured and confident, leaving behind a trail of hushed admiration and digital envy—a siren of the net, redefined for an era of neon dreams and cybernetic destinies.

At least that was what Arasaka advertising department stated.

In a shadowed alcove, Silver met Nix—known in the circuits as the Afterlife Netrunner—and Rogue Amendiares, the living legend whose whispered deals sent ripples through the urban grid.

Sitting opposite the two, Silver’s voice was low, almost a whisper against the hum of flashy processors and flickering holo-ads on the club’s walls. “As I sent over earlier this isn’t just any relic, according to my research,” she said, eyes reflecting the glint of calm greed. It had taken hours in the mirror to get the expression down.

“Oh?” Rogue replied, her face carved from ivory ice.

 “It’s a pre-DataKrash spellbook—coded in the old magic that danced on the bleeding edge of cyber and occult. Clean. Crisp. Root-Command.” Silver’s tone cut through the darkness like a data spike.

Nix’s grew distant yet piercing, his cybernetic eyes glinting with the grim knowledge of the world beyond the Blackwall. “Tampering with pre-DataKrash lore. It’s like igniting an EMP. Do you realize the risk? There are too many old things waiting for their chance. Destroy it. That’s the only way to be safe with the world starting to soak in mana.” Nix’s words vibrated with an eerie resonance as if the ancient incantations lurking within the book might twist his mind beyond repair. In Silver's opinion, he needed to see a ripper about the creepiness level of his synth box.

Rogue, leaning casually back in her booth’s seat before she interjected with a dry chuckle. “Risk? In Noir City, risk is our currency. But this book is said to rewrite the digital reality, to command forces even the Corpos fear. Why would Arasaka’s top tier be selling something like this?” The mercenary queen’s voice dripped with challenge.

Silver’s hand didn’t tremble as she produced a sleek data shard, its surface etched with cryptic sigils reminiscent of a bygone era. “Twenty million eddies,” she smirked, the shard glowing with a hypnotic green-lit rhythm that mimicked a heartbeat. “A minor price for a Root directory from before Rache Bartmoss’s insanity took hold.”

A long, weighted silence fell as the two across from Silver considered the implications. In that spine-chilling moment, time itself seemed to glitch—fragments of coded memories and spectral echoes filled the space between them. The promise of forbidden magic clashed with the harsh reality of the digital wasteland outside the Blackwall, creating a palpable tension that ground down every possible argument into dust.

Nix’s voice resolutely broke the spell. “Deal.” With a flash of blue eyes, the payment was made. Ever since Arasaka took control, every power byte came at an unimaginable cost. His eyes narrowed as he regarded the shard, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll make sure to extract every last snippet,” he said, a hint of defiance in his tone. “After all, even the darkest magic fears those who dare to master it.” Giving a sharp nod to his leader, the gritty older Netrunner exited the booth.

Both women pulled a matching set of Yen Tsiang out and placed their disparate herbs in before lighting up. Silver’s eyes flashed her namesake, and the booth became isolated from both the digital and physical reality. “Report.”

Rogue, the proud mercenary queen of the Afterlife, exhaled a curling stream of smoke before beginning in her signature measured tone. “As commanded,” she intoned, the words echoing in the isolated void of the booth. “My contacts in the Corpo quarters have confirmed that the Militech R&D division, operating under the codename Project Leech, has accelerated development on their latest cybernetic assault systems. Rumor has it that these units integrate cutting‐edge neural uplink chips that can override even the most secure cortical stacks, giving an edge in digital combat that few can match.”

“They still haven’t given up their dreams of Empire?” Silver muttered, displeased. “Continue.”

Rogue nodded and said, “Simultaneously, the underground Netrunner guild known as the Nightmare has been testing a new cyberdeck – a modified OmniCom rig – capable of interfacing with the old Net’s ghosts. This unit, believed to be a relic of pre-2000 tech repurposed for modern warfare, offers unprecedented bandwidth and stealth, making it a hot commodity among those looking to slip between digital realms undetected.”

“Old tech is becoming suspiciously available.” Silver said, her eyes flashing. The Rogue AIs must be behind it. Continue.”

Rogue drew another lung of smoke from her pipe and said, “There are solid rumors of a new Mk—IV, supposedly a hyper-acceleration implant that’s begun circulating among the Hunters. There’s also talk of a biotechnological marvel emerging from the fringe labs – the Phantom, named after everyone’s favorite assassin. It’s an AI-augmented biochip implant that can allegedly manipulate perceptions and even induce temporary hallucinations when integrated with the user’s natural sensory network. Although its commercial release appears to be indefinitely delayed, there are still rumors; preliminary field tests suggest that it could revolutionize combat tactics and espionage operations, bending the reality between the digital and the physical like this very booth.”

“Speed is the only unbreakable method under the heavens.” Silver mused as she breathed out, smoke clouding the interior of the booth further. “How much?”

“Silver, I need your expertise on a high-stakes gig. I've discovered something that only a premier Netrunner like you can crack. With the recent uptick in bizarre occurrences, I have a team requesting support.” Rogue stated, ignoring that her de facto boss sat across the table in front.

“I'm listening. What's the target this time?” Silver said with her eyes half-closed.

“There's a secure data vault, pre-Krash, as requested. The team on the ground has handled most of the entry, but they are stymied at the final door. It still hums with the residual energy of a bygone era—its surface a patchwork of burnished brass filigree and faded neon sigils that seem to whisper forgotten codes. The only way in is through the private Net, a digital corridor lined with fractal data streams and guarded by protocols as cryptic as ancient runes. Cutting through its protective metallic-alloy outer matrix, they say, would be loud enough to ensure death from below.” Rogue said, her tone layered with reverence and pragmatic caution while her smile betrayed nothing.

“Edgerunners?” Silver asked, exhaling a wisp of herbal smoke that mingled with the scent of machine oil as she meticulously dumped her pipe and refilled it. Her sharp gaze reflected the low, eerie glow of a predator pacing.

“A new up-and-coming crew run by Maine—a kid fresh off the NUSA village burning team, barely wet behind the ears but hungry enough to stir up trouble,” Rogue replied, the words rolling off her tongue with an affectionate yet ironic lilt.

Silver arched an eyebrow, her voice laced with exasperation and reluctant intrigue. “I hate working with new people; you know this.”

Rogue’s smirk deepened, her eyes flickering with memories of past glories and near disasters. “Who built that legendary rep one job at a time, brat? Every scar, every narrow escape—they’re the tapestry of our history. It’s practically a miracle you have a drink while alive, even further after only two years.”

“Whatever, why’d you pick this team? You’re always saying newbies have a seventy-twenty-ten,” Silver retorted theatrically, the cadence of her words speeding as she recited, “Seventy percent chance of success, twenty percent chance of life, ten percent meltdown.”

“Bah, you know with you doing this, it’s always ninety-five to five,” Rogue replied with a handwave.

“True.” Silver replied. “Fine, gimme the c-data.”

“Coordinates sent,” Rogue replied, her eyes flashing. “Still don’t know how you get around so fast, even after two years. Probably some Arasaka bullshit tech.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Silver smirked before using Spatial Step. It was immensely satisfying as she departed to see the irritated expression of her personal Fixer. After all, distance wasn’t much of a barrier to her sight these days.

Following the coordinate data provided, Eve appeared in the Hypogeal in her guise as Silver. It was the city beneath the city. For some reason, these idiots had named it a fancy version of the word under-earth in a dead language. Pipe still smoking, she moved forward at a sedate walk. There were no threats, although the scent of death and blood did attract scavengers as she moved along the indicated map. No matter how often she came here for work, the creatures beneath never seemed to learn. Finally, Silver arrived at the vault. The crew—Maine, Dorio, Sasha, and Kiwi—stood clustered near the vault’s massive, rune-inscribed door, their voices hushed but laced with urgency.

Listening as she approached, Maine broke the silence, his voice echoing slightly off the stone walls. “Alright, listen up,” he said, stepping forward as his eyes scanned each face in the dim light. “Once we breach the pre-DataKrash vault down here, thanks to Rogue’s top-tier netrunner slicing through the firewall defenses, we need to settle how we split the reward.”

Dorio’s jaw tightened, and her fingers drummed impatiently against a metal panel embedded in the wall. “Reward splits?” she snapped, her tone bitter in the underground chill. “You mean we’re carving out a hefty cut for an outsider? I didn’t come down here to bleed my effort away.”

Sasha, her leather jacket slightly damp from the subterranean humidity, interjected with a measured calm. “Dorio, relax. Rogue’s Netrunner wasn’t part of our original plan, but this vault would still be sealed tight without them. Their skills will get us past the defenses. Rogues reliable when money like this is involved.”

Kiwi, their eyes glinting in the faint glow of the crystals embedded in the vault door, tapped a rhythm on the cold stone floor. “And let’s not forget,” Kiwi added, voice firm yet even, “I helped override some of the vault’s ancient security protocols. I expect my fair share of the credits for that contribution.”

Maine’s gaze swept over his crew, the weight of leadership apparent in his measured tone. “I get it. But we have to remember, this wasn’t a solo effort. Rogue’s move was the spark that ignited our success. We need to set aside a portion for the Netrunner without neglecting the value each of you brought.”

Dorio’s hand slammed against the wall, echoing off the stone, “I’m all for compensating our assets, but where do we draw the line? Do we give them a massive slice of what we worked for, or do we keep more for the crew?”

Silver rendered herself invisible as she continued listening while approaching.

Sasha leaned closer, her eyes reflecting the sparse light as she spoke thoughtfully. “This vault isn’t just any target—it’s pre-DataKrash, filled with relics of old-school security and hidden knowledge. The Netrunner’s work will be essential, but so were our planning and muscle on the ground. We need a split that honors every role.”

After a moment of heavy silence punctuated by distant echoes, Kiwi proposed, “How about this: forty for the crew, sixty for this new Netrunner. Then we split our percentage equally among us four.”

Maine allowed a slight nod, his gaze steady in the dark. “That means you get ten percent of the total, with a solid share set aside for our Netrunner to keep our operations smooth. I can stand behind that—if you all can.”

Silver was impressed. They hadn’t tried to shortchange her.

Dorio’s expression hardened, muttering, “Ten percent each isn’t exactly a king’s ransom. I’d push for more if I could, but you know Rogue could screw us if we tried that.”

Silver raised her eyebrows in appreciation. This team was good.

Sasha’s voice softened but remained resolute. “We’re not ripping this deal apart, Dorio. Every risk we took here in the Hypogeal counts. The Netrunner’s work will reduce our risk, which benefits us all.”

Kiwi added with a pragmatic smile that cut through the tension, “Besides, if we shortchange our new friend, Rogue might not come through for us next time. Our reputation is everything in these depths.”

As expected, this team understood. Silver agreed with them.

Maine’s tone brooked no further debate. “Kiwi’s right. If we don’t honor our agreements, we risk our future gigs. The split is solid. It may not be perfect for everyone, but it keeps our crew’s name in the mind of the Afterlife’s ruler.”

Silver used a slight illusion to conceal the smoke from her pipe.

Dorio grumbled, the sound lost among the dripping echoes, “Fine. But we'll renegotiate if our next run doesn’t respect our efforts.”

Sasha and Kiwi exchanged a quick look—a silent vow to keep the crew’s best interests at heart. “Noted,” Sasha said.

Kiwi’s determined nod cut through the remaining tension. “Agreed. We take our share tonight and set our sights on the next job.”

Silver sent a message and watched as Rogue took action.

Maine took a deep breath, his gaze lingering on the ancient vault door, its secrets as deep as the dimly lit darkness around them. “Alright then. It’s settled: equal shares for the crew and a firm cut for the Netrunner. We move forward—more secrets are buried in these depths, and the city above won’t run itself.” His eyes suddenly flashed as a ping arrived from Rogue.

Silver appeared with smoke from her pipe trailing right as Maine said, “Rogue just informed me the split is forty for us, sixty for the Netrunner.”

Sasha blinked and said, “What?”

“Indeed, when did that bitch decide to upgrade my payment?” Silver chimed in ignoring the plethora of guns that suddenly focused on her.

“Who the fuck are you?” Kiwi said with a tense expression.

“Oh, you know, I’m just a random wanderer.” Silver said breezily.

“Wandering through the Hypogeal?” Dorio said dropping her gun.

“All the time. Go here, fix this. Go here, slice this. Go here, kill this. Rogue is a big steel-bald bitch calling me for random shit in the deep o’dark hours.” Silver said before raising one eyebrow and stating, “You have three seconds to lower your weapons before I get testy.”

Maine looked about to say something before Dorio slammed her elbow into his side. “It’s the Netrunner, you clueless gorilla.”

“How can we be sure?” Maine said suspiciously, even as he lowered his guns.

“She’s already loaded code to disable all four of us. We couldn’t keep her out.” Sasha said, putting her weapon away. “If that isn’t a sign, then nothing is.”

“So? Can you even get through this door?” Kiwi said with a sneering tone.

“It’s already unlocked, you defective twit.” Silver said.

Everyone on Maine’s team blinked before looking at the vault door, which started to hiss and vent gasses before cracking open. Silver smirked at their gobsmacked expressions. This false persona bullshit was so worth it sometimes.

“That’s impossible,” Kiwi stated in a flat, disbelieving voice.

“Right?” Sasha said, glancing between Silver and the slowly opening door.

“Oh, look, what an exciting wall,” Silver said, staring at a nondescript metal wall nearby. “It is so very interesting. I am very distracted and cannot monitor if anyone loots the vault a bit before I pay attention to it again.” Her tone blatantly stated the four better enter and pick some shit before she needed to check things officially. It was a bit of a favor in return for seeing how they were willing to take a lower official cut.

Even as the edgerunners hesitated, one gimlet eye rotated like a chameleon to stare at them. Silver said, “Hurry the fuck up you braindead sacks of shit.” With haste, the four started checking for traps or security bots before entering.

Silver shook her head with a sigh. “So hard to find good help…”