April 22, 2021. 14:08. Vancouver. 8 days left till Italy.
One, two, three.
I inhale deep and steady, bracing my core, and feeling the tension in my back and arms. My fingers curl around the pull-up bar, and with a practiced pull, I lift myself up and over.
Mid-swing, I flip and catch myself in a handstand, legs extended with picture-perfect form. A short smile spreads across my lips as I face my phone propped up on the table nearby, camera pointed right at me.
Still upside-down, I slowly shift my weight onto one arm, then lift the other to throw a peace sign and a wink.
In my wireless earbuds, shrieks of tiny, excited voices erupt.
"WHOAAAA!"
"SHE'S FLYING!"
"NO, SHE'S UPSIDE DOWN!"
"THAT'S LIKE A SPIDER—NO, A NINJA SPIDER!"
I laugh, lowering my legs to the ground before rolling gently and springing up on my feet. I stare at myself reflected through my phone's screen—hair tied back into a ponytail, face bare, clad in a designer sports bra and leggings.
Just me, fresh-faced and flushed in my top-floor gym.
"Okay, okay." I grab a towel from the nearby bench. "Rate the form, my little experts~! What's the score?" I strike a playful pose, arms lifted like I'm mid-photoshoot.
"TEN OUTTA TEN!"
"No—INFINITY outta ten!"
"Dad! Can we learn that too? Can she teach us? Please please please—"
Wissen chuckles faintly in the background. "Let's not break the furniture, alright? We don't all have reinforced ceilings like Gina."
"She's so cool and pretty…" One of them whispers like I can't hear.
"I bet she could beat up a whole army. Maybe two!"
I press a hand over my heart with faux drama. "Aww, you guys… you're gonna make me cry. You're lucky I don't have eyeliner on."
"What's eyeliner?"
"It's that line thing girls draw on their face! Like what Mom uses!"
I chuckle. "Exactly. It's like warrior paint."
I wipe a bit of sweat from my jaw, move past my wall of weights, and plop down onto a yoga mat. Leaning back into a deep stretch, I smile. "I'll do another trick in a sec, but you better be ready to match my energy. No slackers allowed!"
"We're ready!!"
"I've got my energy juice!!"
"...That's just apple juice."
"BUT IT WORKS!"
I shake my head with a smile, roll my neck, and then rise smoothly into a one-legged squat. "Alright, team, let's see if you can keep up now."
The kids gasp through the earbuds.
"She's doing it on ONE LEG!"
"I can do that!—wait, wait—no I can't!"
"DAD I'M FALLING—"
Without missing a second, I flow straight into a full pistol squat.
"Okay, balance is key," I say in my best overenthusiastic coach voice. "Engage that core—core is king, people!"
The kids lose their minds.
"She's a ballerina ninja!"
"My Leg feels weird—"
"I DID IT—no wait I didn't—AHHH!"
Still smiling, I flow into a dragon squat, my body moving on pure muscle memory. I hold the final pose with flair, hands out like I'm presenting an invisible trophy. "Annnnd that's how it's done. Ready for more?"
I bite back a giggle as the kids try to process what just happened.
"Nooo fair!!"
"You cheated!!"
"She used ninja tricks again!!"
In the background, I hear a woman's voice—Wissen's wife—half-laughing, half-exasperated. "Can you three please stop climbing the couch?"
Wissen chuckles faintly. "Alright, alright, let's not give your mother a heart attack."
One by one, the kids let out disappointed groans.
"Awwwwww…"
"Can't we stay longer?"
"I wanna learn the flying one again!"
"Next time," Wissen says gently. "Say thank you to Gina."
The kids chorus together: "THANK YOUUUUU!"
I grin and wink, lifting my arms overhead to form a big heart. "You guys were awesome! We'll train again soon, yea?"
I hear them scatter off, laughing and arguing about who was closest to doing the squat properly. Once they're gone, the line quiets down, replaced by the calm sound of Wissen sipping his drink.
"Thanks for entertaining them."
I wipe my face again, chuckling. "Are you kidding? It was cute. They're so full of energy." I take a breath, stretching out my legs. "Feels like we've been chatting a lot more lately. Not that I'm complaining though."
There's a brief pause. Wissen's voice is casual, but knowing. "Well… we're both tying up loose ends, aren't we?"
My gaze lingers on the ceiling for a moment. "I guess so."
A beat passes. Then, he shifts topics like it's nothing. "How's the shoulder, by the way?"
I blink, a little surprised by the question. "Better than expected, honestly. Treatment is going well."
"I'm impressed," Wissen says. "Though I'm still not sure how you walked out of the Gauntlet with just a busted shoulder."
I smirk. "What can I say? I'm 'built different' as they say."
"Mmhm." He doesn't believe me for a second, but he hums in amusement all the same. "So, what's the plan now?"
I grab my water bottle and take a slow sip. "Still in motion. I recently finished a photoshoot. But if you're asking about my other project—well, one of our teams finally made some headway. There's this… mutated version of the code. Our specialist is trying to reverse-engineer it to figure out what the original looked like, but so far… nothing major."
He nods. "And the others?"
"We followed the victim's trail. It led somewhere, but then we hit a wall. Our final member is looking into it—he might be able to break through with his contacts." I shrug, reclining back onto my mat. "Either way, we've got a group meeting later tonight to regroup."
"And the clock's still ticking," Wissen adds smoothly. "Don't forget your flight."
"Mmm… eight days left till we're gone," I murmur. "To be honest, I have no clue if we have enough time. Whatever's behind this—it's not small scale. I don't even know if we're close."
Wissen's quiet for a moment. I can hear the soft clink of his glass as he sets it down. I take the chance to ask him a question that's been on my mind.
"What about you? Everything wrapping up cleanly?"
"As clean as I can make it," he says. "I've been tying up a lot of loose ends. It's slow, but it's moving."
A small, content exhale leaves me. "Bet that feels good."
"It does," he says, but his voice carries that note again—the one he always gets when he's still thinking about me. "Though I admit… I'm still wondering about you."
And here it comes.
"Have you come up with an answer yet?" he asks gently. "About what I asked you?"
I let out a slow breath through my nose and sit up, towel draped over my shoulders. "Not really," I say, half-smiling. "I've been busy, you know. Working." My voice edges just on the side of playful. "Thanks to you, remember?"
Wissen chuckles knowingly. "Right. Not exactly a fair time to be asking."
"Exactly."
He doesn't press further, and I'm grateful. The silence that follows is easy—not tense, not awkward. Just quiet understanding.
Eventually, he speaks again, voice low and thoughtful. "Well. When you're ready to answer it… I hope you do it for yourself. Not for me, not for work. Just you."
I smile—uncertain if I'll ever find the answer. "I know."
There's a small pause on the line before Wissen speaks again.
"Well… I should let you go. I've got a few more calls to wrap before tonight."
I nod, wiping the last bit of sweat from my cheek. "Duty calls?"
"Unfortunately," he says with a low chuckle. "But hey—good luck tonight."
"Thanks," I reply, shifting up to my feet and stretching out my arms with a slow exhale. "We'll need it."
"I'm sure you'll handle it," he says calmly. "You always do."
A small but honest smile tugs at my lips. "You're the worst hype man."
"And yet, you're still smiling."
"Shut up."
"Stay sharp, Gina."
"You too, old man."
The call ends with a soft click, leaving only the faint hum of my penthouse behind. I glance over at my phone, then at my reflection in a mirrored wall. Hair frizzed from sweat. Skin flushed. Still no makeup.
Yeah, I should wrap this up before heading out.
I take one last long breath, letting it out slowly as I scoop up my towel and head for the shower.
Time to switch gears.
…
April 22, 2021. 17:42. Burnaby. 8 days left till Italy.
I scan the surrounding area.
Warehouse in a Burnaby industrial zone, huh? Not bad, Mister.It's a good location.
On the way here, Mister texted us, promising an area of absolute privacy. Apparently, it's a cameraless and windowless area secluded in a barely used industrial zone.
So far, it seemed to hold true to his word.
I step inside, adjusting my gloves, already back in full gear. The others are here, ahead of me—Mister stands calm and composed near the wall, Tetra waves me over to where he's standing, Shock and Azure are off to the side in quiet conversation, and Michelangelo leans casually against a crate.
A minute later, Remi strolls in—last, of course—laid-back as always, but his eyes sweep the room with purpose. Now we're all here.
No one says anything right away.
Then Shock speaks, voice low but edged with restrained excitement. "So… just to catch everyone up, I'm still working through it. The sample's degraded, but it's holding! I isolated a stable mutation. It's not the original strain, but it's close. I might be able to reverse-engineer it."
Michelangelo gives a single nod. "Then we escalate. We can hand it off to Arasaka—"
"No," Azure cuts in before he can finish. "Not yet. Give us a few more days. Let Shock finish. If we pass it on now, we'll lose control of everything."
Shock looks over and gives a grateful nod. Michelangelo doesn't argue. Not yet, anyway.
Remi folds his arms, leaning lazily against a nearby crate. "Aight, while y'all chooms were busy with your bio-horror science project, I linked up with Blake. The Melders? They're in deep—definitely distributing the stuff. But get this…"
He pauses for dramatic effect.
"They've joined up with the Banshees."
Tetra's head tilts, and everyone else sharpens, eyes narrowing.
Azure exchanges a glance with Shock. "Checks out, we saw them too. They were working together in Surrey."
Remi nods. "Yeah, and that's not even the end of it. They're both pushing into Burnaby and Surrey. And Surrey's already packed—GTown Boys, Byte Raiders, you name it. Richmond's lowkey a war zone between the Melders and Velvs, and now we've got a full-on territory shift happening."
Mister then speaks up, finally breaking his silence. "Remi, you said the Melders are distributing the SynthCoke—did Blake mention how? Who's running it?"
Remi shifts his weight, scratching the back of his neck before replying. "Yeah. There's a name that came up, Benny. Bro works distribution for the Melders. Word is, he's high up in their crew and pulling strings on the supply side. Mostly operates out of Richmond."
Mister exhales slowly. "I figured it'd be Richmond. It lines up with my sources too. Most likely, the Melders must've set up something stable there."
Tetra nods, arms crossed. "Oh wait, that also lines up with Roderick's schedule then. So if Benny's the next step…" His gaze sweeps the group. "So what's the plan?"
Before anyone else can speak, Remi slides in with a half-smile. "Well, Blake made it real clear—Dead Kings ain't hungry for more bloody money. They're tryna go legit, remember? Basically whatever keeps the cops off their ass. But they won't say no to extra flow… if the deal's clean."
"Then I'll be the front." Mister nods slowly. "If the Dead Kings are willing to move product quietly—without letting the Melders get any bigger foothold in Burnaby or Vancouver—I'll be the one doing logistics and greasing the wheels."
I tilt my head, watching him carefully.
Is Mister trying to get in on the drug business? What does he gain from co-opting SynthCoke? Is it just for money? No, he's not that type of guy. There's definitely an ulterior motive.
No one questions it—for now.
Tetra taps his foot against the ground, thoughtful. "Alright. So we go after Benny. Shut the door before it opens wider."
Shock glances between them. "Soooo… are we talking—interrogation, intel grab, or a message?"
Mister answers flatly. "Whatever gets us leverage."
Azure mutters, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. "So that means we're headed to Richmond next."
Mister nods. "We can start with doing our homework. While Shock and Azure keep working the virus angle, the rest of us will look into Benny's network."
Shock raises a hand. "Good news on that, actually—I've got remote access to my rig back home. I can keep running diagnostics while we're on the move."
Tetra blinks. "Wait, so… your cyberdeck-thing can just talk to your computer back at your house?"
"Kind of," Shock says, waving her fingers vaguely. "It's more complex than that. But basically, yeah."
Tetra scratches the back of his head. "Okay, but like… what if the virus breaks out or something? You sure that's safe?"
Azure steps in before Shock has to explain. "She's running it inside a sandbox. It's totally isolated and it can't spread outside her station."
Shock smirks. "Exactly. I'd stake my life on it. If it got out, I'd be disgracing my whole family, and I'm not about to let that happen."
Azure lets out a short laugh, nudging Shock with her elbow. "I bet V would be impressed."
Shock immediately shoots her a sharp look. "Don't."
Tetra, now fully curious, leans in. "Wait, who's V?"
"Later," Shock mutters, nudging Azure back. "It's not important."
Who…? V, the one in Surrey? I narrow my eyes. What the hell happened?
Mister checks his watch. "Then let's get moving. The sooner we dig up info on Benny, the better."
I tilt my head. "We carpooling?"
"I've got mine parked nearby," Mister says. "Plenty of space."
"Same." I look at the rest of the team. "I got my truck today. Full tank and everything. Gear is in the back. Anyone who comes with, watch where you sit."
Tetra gives me a thumbs-up. "Calling shotgun."
"Nope," Shock says, already moving. "Shotgun's mine. You can third-wheel."
Tetra groans but follows us anyway. "Fine."
The group splits. Mister offers to take Michelangelo and Remi in his car. Azure hangs back near Shock for a moment—trading a few more tech details—before heading off with the rest of them.
Tetra, Shock, and I head to my truck. I unlock the doors, and Shock whistles when she sees the multiple bags piled in the backseat.
"Damn, bestie. What did you bring this time?"
"Better gear." I hop into the driver's seat "I'm not risking anything."
The truck roars to life as the rest of the team pulls out behind us.
Tetra sprawls out in the backseat, kicking his feet up. Shock's in the passenger seat, one leg tucked under the other, passively scrolling through her social media feed with a glazed-over expression.
We pass by a few buildings—low-rises and old plazas giving way to sleeker condos.
Burnaby blurs past in glass reflections and faded neon signs, pockets of life wedged between construction cranes and cracked sidewalks. Strip malls and warehouses stretch along the road, broken up by glowing billboards or the blinking red lights of distant towers.
I keep my eyes on the road, knuckles relaxed against the wheel. That is, until I catch something out of the corner of my eye—Shock's feed. More specifically, the photo currently taking up her screen.
My photo.
No makeup, no alias. Just me—Gina Kyung—in that taupe-gray slip dress from the Grecian goddess shoot from earlier.
My stomach flips.
Oh fuck.
My brain fires off in every direction.
Shit—did I put the photo up too recently? Was I too public? Is my makeup actually that good? Did she already figure it out and is just playing dumb?
I breathe through my nose and force a casual tone. "Oh? Who's that?"
Shock perks up, turning the phone toward me so I can get a better look—as if I needed one.
"Ohhh, her? That's Gina Kyung! Easily the prettiest model I follow." She swipes again, lingering on another photo. "Look at her, she's a total baddie. Like, how? She can pull off anything! Cute, sexy, elegant, messy, sporty, designer, streetwear—you name it. Just when you think you know her vibe, she flips it again. Her brand game is insane too. Collaborations with brands I can't even pronounce. I'd sell a kidney to raid her closet!"
She taps twice, liking the post. My jaw doesn't clench, but it takes effort.
Then she stops scrolling. Shit.
Her thumb hovers over the screen as she tilts her head. "Wait, this one…"
It's that photo.
The one from the new pre-season drop. Me standing on the stone steps with that sheer one-shoulder satin drape, hair down and tucked behind the gold hoops. Natural glow and minimal makeup.
Shock whistles. "Wow, she looks like royalty. It's giving… modern-day Athena."
Then comes the part I dread.
"… Wait, didn't you wear something like this back at the airport? That time you pulled us out of that hostage mess?"
My soul briefly leaves my body.
I keep driving. "Guess I've got good taste."
She hums in agreement, totally unaware that she just struck within one inch of my buried identity. "You do. Actually… you and her have kinda similar builds."
Internally, I'm spiralling.
How close is she?
Was my disguise weak?
Did I fuck up the contouring?
Was my foundation too sheer?
Did I do the damn winged liner the same?
Was my voice recorded anywhere recently?
No. No. I changed my posture. I moved differently. I acted differently. Didn't I?
Shock's still on her phone, totally oblivious. "Seriously, girl, your body is tea. What's your routine? I wanna level up!"
"Oh—uh… right." I blink and shift my grip on the wheel. "A lot of resistance training and cardio. Y'know… calisthenics, weight lifting. I run a whole bunch of programs, but right now I'm using an upper-lower split. I switch it up depending on the circumstances, though."
Tetra perks up from the back. "What's that mean?"
"It means she's gorg and she's smart!" Shock says without looking back. "She's not training like a meathead every day of the week." She gasps, finally looking up from her screen. "Oh! Anything else?"
I keep going, letting the words fall out of my mouth even while my brain's on fire.
"Hmm, another thing is nutrition. It's a big part of it. I meal prep when I can. Lean protein, whole carbs, minimal sugar. I also drink a ton of water."
"Ooo," Shock says, clearly taking mental notes. "And your skincare?"
"I typically double cleanse. Then I use toner, essence, serum, moisturizer, and sunscreen. My night routine's heavier, though. Retinoids on rotation and a weekly mask. Also, I never skip exfoliating. Only chemical—no scrubs."
"Okayyyy, skincare-baddie. That's intense. No wonder you look like a magazine cover."
"Thanks," I mutter, unsure whether to feel flattered or exposed. "Just trying to be my own Gina Kyung, y'know?" I force a laugh, but it comes out so strained I cut it off halfway. My heart's pounding.
Whether they picked up on it or not, I can't tell. Shock just yawns and leans back into the seat. "Still can't believe she's real though. She's not even AI. Anddddd apparently she's all natural. Like—what do you even do with a face card that lethal?"
I don't respond.
Motherfucker, I AM her.
And I am one mistaken comment away from blowing this whole thing wide open.
Fortunately, the conversation shifts.
Tetra leans forward between the seats, resting his arms casually on the center console. "Damn, Artemis. Did you learn all of this before becoming a solo?"
I shrug, keeping my gaze on the road. "I've had… an education."
Fuck, how much do I say? It's just small talk. They're nice people—well, 'nice' as far as edgerunners go. It's fine if I keep this going, right?
Shock grins. "What, like a personal trainer background? Or, wait—were you one of those wellness influencers before you got into… you know." She gestures vaguely, clearly referencing the mess we're all knee-deep in.
I answer, just not with the part that matters. "I just like the topic. Strength, performance, aesthetics, health—it's fun to tinker with. When I'm not working, I like focusing on my body. Helps me stay grounded."
Tetra whistles. "Wish I had that kind of motivation."
"You could," Shock says, elbowing him with a grin. "Once this Benny stuff is done, the three of us should go shopping. You know—reward ourselves. Artemis, you can help me pick new skincare, and we'll find something that makes Tetra look like less of a background NPC."
Tetra snorts a laugh. "Hey, I'll let you know this hoodie has history."
"Girl, mildew doesn't count as 'history,'" Shock fires back. "Be for real."
I smirk despite myself, raising an eyebrow as I glance at the rearview mirror. "What's your wardrobe even consist of, Tetra? I've seen only vests and hoodies from you."
"Well, I rotate in a few flannel shirts when I'm feeling formal."
Shock fake-gags.
I laugh. "How do you not freeze half to death in that vest?"
Tetra shrugs, lounging again. "I'm used to the sea. All the cold mornings and waves. Remember?" He tugs at his open vest. "This is like… a spring breeze."
"What's home like for you then? I don't know much about nomads."
"Think of us like a big fishing family. Sometimes we're on land, but mostly we're by sea. Boats, crates, drifting communities. That sort of stuff."
I nod slowly. "Checks out. You do give off ocean gremlin energy."
He grins proudly. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Shock stretches, arms overhead. "Okay, but seriously—we should do something after this. Like an actual day off. Shopping, ramen, maybe a facial. You guys in?"
Tetra shrugs. "Yeah, sure. I got nothing better to do anyways while waiting for Wissen."
But I hesitate.
First the sleepover, now this? What the hell am I doing?
But for some reason… I find myself nodding anyway. "Yeah. Sure. After this is over."
It's just team bonding, that's all.
Shock practically squeals and throws her arms around me.
"You're actually in!? Yay! That's it—we're doing face masks and spicy ramen and I'm choosing the playlist!"
I jerk slightly as she hugs me from the passenger seat. "Hey—hands off! I'm driving!"
"Right, right!" She backs off with a sheepish grin, practically bouncing in her seat.
Tetra just smiles from the back, quieter but no less pleased. He leans back, arms crossed behind his head. "This is good. We could use a real break."
I sigh and grip the wheel a little tighter.
For fuck's sake. I should be distancing myself.
This is stupid. Dangerous, even. Being friends with 'work' buddies? Really?
But… this is kind of nice.