A week had dragged by at Scott Outpost, each day a relentless gauntlet of Lieutenant Kade's piercing glares and barked orders.
The Papago Hollow's etheric hum had seeped into my bones, mingling with the outpost's sterile tang of metal and antiseptic.
As Kaori and I hauled our gear to the exit, Kade cornered us in the command post, his uniform starched to razor edges, his face a storm of contempt.
"You two," he growled, jabbing a finger at us, "are the worst people I've ever had the misfortune of working with.
Late reports, half-assed inspections, and a complete disregard for chain of command. You're a liability to New Eridu's defence. Don't ever darken this post again."
Charming as ever, I mused, hoisting my bag.
Kaori's cat ears flattened, her green eyes flashing with suppressed retort.
"Understood, sir," she muttered, her twin tails stiff as she adjusted her own pack.
She's ready to bolt.
I kept my tone even.
"We'll clear out, Lieutenant. Good luck with the Hollows."
You'll need it more than us.
Kade's scowl deepened, but he waved us off, turning to his monitors.
Kaori's car, its frame still scarred from Blazewood's rough roads, growled to life as we hit the highway to New Eridu.
The desert stretched endlessly around us, its cracked earth glowing under a noon sun, while the city's neon skyline shimmered like a mirage ahead.
To cut the tension, I leaned back, grinning at Kaori.
"Bet you a dinner we're fired today," I wagered, loosening my tie. It's been coming.
Kaori's ears perked, her grip on the wheel tightening.
"No way," she scoffed, her voice brightening with the challenge.
"Dr. Lin wouldn't ditch us after all we've pulled off. You're dreaming, Michael. Loser pays for Blaze's Pit burgers, deal?"
"Deal," I chuckled, the memory of our Ladas heist fueling my certainty. She's too hopeful.
"Kade probably sent a novel's worth of complaints to White Star. We're toast."
Kaori rolled her eyes, her tails flicking playfully.
"You're such a pessimist. Bet he just whined about your tie being crooked."
We traded discussions, laughing over Kade's obsession with punctuality and his rants about "Hollow protocol," the week's grind fading into the rearview.
New Eridu's glass towers loomed as we pulled into the White Star Institute's sprawling campus, its sleek facade reflecting the city's pulsing neon.
The lobby buzzed with researchers in crisp lab coats, their murmurs drowned by the hum of holo-displays.
We barely crossed the threshold when the intercom crackled:
"Michael and Kaori, report to Dr. Lin's office immediately."
No time to breathe.
Kaori's tail drooped, her eyes meeting mine.
"This can't be good," she whispered. She's catching on.
Dr. Lin's office was a stark contrast to the lobby's chaos—a sterile cube of white walls and polished steel, her desk cluttered with data pads and a single, wilting plant.
Her stood, her grey hair severe under harsh lighting, his expression carved from stone.
"Sit," he ordered, gesturing to two chairs. Here we go.
"I'll be brief," Dr. Lin said, his voice cold as a Hollow's edge.
"The board, in light of recent reports from Scott Outpost and prior… irregularities, has decided to terminate your employment, effective immediately. Your conduct reflects poorly on White Star's mission. Clear your desks and leave."
Kaori's jaw dropped, her ears flattening as shock rippled across her face.
"Fired?" She stammered, her voice barely audible.
"We were only late because we secured the—" She almost mentioned the accelerator.
I cut her off with a glance, my smile faint but steady.
Knew it.
"Understood, Dr. Lin," I said, rising. "We'll clear out."
No point arguing.
Kaori followed, her movements dazed, as we headed to our cubicles.
The office hummed around us, colleagues casting sidelong glances as we packed—my notebooks, a cracked coffee mug, Kaori's cat-shaped paperweight, its painted grin mocking her mood.
Outside, under New Eridu's neon dusk, I balanced my box under one arm, the city's pulse thrumming through the pavement. Kaori sighed, her box clutched tightly, her tail limp.
"We actually got fired," she muttered, her voice thick with disbelief.
"And I owe you dinner. This is officially the worst day of my life."
I nudged her shoulder, my grin widening.
"Come on, burgers at Blaze's Pit won't kill you. Besides, we're free now."
The sun project's ours to finish. Her eyes met mine, a spark of resilience flickering beneath her gloom.
She'll bounce back.
***
The neon glow of Blaze's Pit bathed our corner booth in a kaleidoscope of pinks and blues, the diner's retro jukebox humming a synthetic tune.
I sank my teeth into a greasy hamburger, the bun slightly charred, its juices mingling with the tang of nitro sauce.
Across the table, Kaori slouched, lazily sipping a soda through a striped straw, her cat ears drooping, her green eyes heavy with defeat.
Her twin tails lay limp against the cracked vinyl seat, reflecting her mood.
"I told you they'd fire us," I said, wiping my mouth with a napkin. "And you nearly blew our cover with that slip about the accelerator. Close call, Kaori." She's got to be sharper.
Her ears twitched, her gaze dropping to the fizzing soda.
"Sorry," she mumbled, her voice barely above the jukebox's hum.
"But this means we're unemployed. Done for."
I leaned back, the booth creaking.
"Worst CVs in New Eridu," she continued, her tail flicking in frustration.
"No one's going to touch our applications after White Star's blacklist. We've got nothing but a half-built project and a stolen particle accelerator." She sighed, her eyes tracing the diner's flickering ceiling lights.
"Look at us—thieves, jobless, scraping by. What a life."
She's not wrong, but we're not out yet. I set my burger down, my tone steady.
"No need to worry, Kaori. I've got a plan."
Her eyes flicked to me, curiosity piercing her gloom.
"What's that?" she asked, leaning forward, her soda forgotten.
I grinned, savouring the moment. "You'll see."
———
The next day dawned with a searing New Eridu sun, its rays glinting off the polished hood of my borrowed car—a sleek, black beast that purred with understated power.
I'd traded my usual attire for an ostentatious suit, its dark fabric tailored to perfection, paired with opulent trousers and a luxurious silk tie, its crimson hue catching the light.
On my wrist, the high-end watch I'd crafted gleamed, its gears subtly humming with latent Ether.
Let's get things done, I mused, combing my hair in the rearview mirror.
I opened my phone, navigating the Inter-Knot's chaotic feeds with practiced ease.
My fingers paused on a post—an ad for a New Eridu Public Security event on Sixth Street.
I recalled its details: Zhu Yuan and Qingyi, Public Security's finest, had faced rejection after rejection while promoting their community outreach.
Desperate, they resorted to handing out surveys to win over residents, which is when the duo proxy noticed and decided to assist them.
Early stages, perfect timing, I observed a plan solidifying.
I pulled up to a gated estate just off Sixth Street, its towering walls bristling with advanced security—drones humming overhead, their red optics scanning, and agents in sleek Public Security uniforms patrolling with military precision.
A wrought-iron gate loomed, its intricate designs masking reinforced steel. Not just any mansion.
I stepped out, smoothing my suit, and approached the security officer, a grizzled man with a cybernetic eye that whirred as it scanned me.
"Name and purpose," he demanded, his hand resting on a holstered pulse pistol.
I offered a calm smile.
"Check your list. I have a meeting."
The officer tapped his data pad, his brow furrowing, then nodded, the gate clicking open with a mechanical groan.
A tidy maid awaited at the mansion's entrance, her uniform pristine, her expression neutral but observant.
"This way, sir," she said, her voice clipped, gesturing toward the grand doors of polished obsidian.
Without further explanation, she led me through a marble-floored foyer, its chandeliers casting fractured light across gilded walls.
This is where it begins, I resolved, my steps echoing as we headed deeper into the mansion.
***
The maid's heels issued a subdued cadence against the mansion's marble flooring, guiding me through a maze of luxury that thrummed with the aspirational pulse of New Eridu.
The grand foyer unfolded beneath an arched, cathedral-like ceiling, where crystal chandeliers scattered refracted light across gilded walls adorned with holo-portraits capturing the vibrant nostalgia of Sixth Street's neon-lit history.
As they tended to silver fixtures and rearranged vases full of phosphorescent Ether blossoms, attendants in spotless black uniforms moved with choreographed precision.
Elsewhere, butlers in sharply tailored navy suits strode by with data tablets in hand, cybernetic earpieces aglow as they orchestrated the estate's seamless operations.
Beyond soaring arched windows, groundskeepers manoeuvred drones across immaculately trimmed lawns, sculpting hedgerows into mathematical elegance.
The air itself bore a faint yet deliberate blend of jasmine and polished alloy—an olfactory signature of obsessive upkeep. This place exudes authority, I reflected, my ostentatious outfit blending seamlessly with its overwhelming grandeur.
The maid, her demeanour calm yet perceptive, led me up a grand staircase with railings inscribed with filigrees of circuit-like motifs.
We passed a stately portrait gallery—visages of austere ancestors stared out with the uncanny depth only holo-tech could provide, their watchful gazes tracking our ascent.
At length, she gestured me into an expansive office clad in dark oak panelling, its shelves burdened with weathered tomes and enigmatic Etheric relics.
A vast desk anchored the space, its surface embedded with a holographic image of New Eridu alive with flowing data streams.
"My master will be with you momentarily," the maid said in a tone of tranquil clarity.
"May I offer you a refreshment while you wait?"
"Tea would be perfect," I replied, easing into a leather armchair that exhaled softly beneath me.
Maintain composure.
She bowed slightly and walked away, her footsteps blending into the ambient murmur of the mansion.
The minutes crept by, broken only by the barely audible whir of concealed ventilation.
When she returned, she carried a silver tray bearing a porcelain teapot and cup, from which fragrant steam curled like incense.
She poured with effortless elegance, placed the cup before me, and departed just as the door creaked open to admit a butler who held it with practiced decorum. Showtime.
The man who entered appeared no older than thirty-five, his angular features partially obscured by sleek, reflective eyewear that caught the room's diffused light.
His charcoal suit fit like a second skin, his dark hair swept back with silver just beginning to fringe the temples—an affectation that projected calculated gravitas.
The butler, a sentinel-like presence with a cybernetic monocle, shut the door in silence.
"My apologies for the delay," the man said as he lowered himself into the seat behind the desk, his voice smooth but tinged with surprise.
"I wasn't informed of any meeting today."
I placed the teacup down with a gentle clink and offered a disarming smile.
"We all miss a detail now and then," I said lightly.
"I'm here to discuss a rather pressing matter."
Time to steer the conversation.
I retrieved a USB drive from my breast pocket—the one Kaori had handed me at Scott Outpost.
Despite its modest appearance, its significance was hidden beneath the surface.
I slid it across the desk. "Everything will make sense once you review this."
His brow furrowed; hesitation flickered in his fingers before he grasped the drive.
With a tap on his glasses, the lenses illuminated with projected data.
As he parsed the contents, his features contorted—eyes widening, jaw loosening in disbelief.
"How..." he murmured, his voice fraying.
"How did you obtain these calculations?"
He moved to activate his glasses again—perhaps to alert someone or extract the files.
I leaned forward, my voice calm but underscored with warning.
"I wouldn't recommend that."
His hand stalled, his gaze locking onto mine.
"That's a duplicate," I said evenly.
"I will share what is inside if you try to call anyone, but from now on, I advise you to listen to me."
His jaw clenched, a veneer of composure cracking beneath visible strain.
"What is it you want?" He growled, low and guarded.
I reclined in my chair, smile steady.
"Consider this an unemployed person's proposition."
The game had begun.