Temporal Diagnostics Purchased: –2,000
RP Available: 128
The workshop felt charged, alive with possibilities—and numb without Patchwork's constant commentary. Jace Thorne traced his fingers over the bench, half-expecting a sarcastic quip to echo in his mind. Nothing came. He closed his eyes briefly, breathing in the hum of fluorescent lights.
Riley slid onto the stool beside him, her tablet glowing with the day's schedule. "You ready?" she asked softly.
He opened his eyes. "Let's do it."
They hadn't even made it to the first job when Jace realized how much he'd leaned on Patchwork's running play-by-play. Without the echo to point out inconsistencies, every wire looked suspect, every circuit ambiguous. But now he had Temporal Diagnostics—a window into sabotage itself. He just had to learn to trust it.
The call came from the city history museum's climate vault. Every curator's nightmare: oscillating temperatures threatening ancient manuscripts, unlocked shutters exposing priceless artifacts, and a fire suppression system poised to flood the galleries with inert gas. It was triple sabotage, made for a grand unveiling.
Marble columns lined the lobby as curators murmured anxiously. In the corner, Daniel's operatives lounged against a display case, eyes locked on Jace's back. He felt their gaze like a physical weight, reminding him this was a performance.
Riley leaned close. "They're watching. Use Diagnostics."
He nodded, unscrewed the vault console cover, and tapped the new icon on the interface. The world flickered. Ghost-white tracings pulsed over wires, screws, and circuit boards—every act of tampering marked in crisp temporal frames.
His vision latched onto the temperature control board first. He watched wires glow crimson at the moment they'd been cut and stripped. A resistor—crucial for calibration—flickered in and out of place. Jace Thorne paused time in his head, noted the exact component value, then reached into his kit for a match. He swapped in the correct resistor. Instantly, the spectral cut healed, the overlay vanishing at that node. A subtle shift on the display confirmed the temperature stabilized.
Behind him, Riley kept the curators talking, deflecting questions and buying time. Jace moved to the shutter controls. Temporal Diagnostics showed ghost screws spinning loose one by one, then dropping. He retraced their path, replacing each stripped screw with a freshly torqued fastener, watching the shutter seal in tandem with its spectral twin. The click of real metal accompanied the fade of the ghost frame.
"Almost done," he murmured.
The final trace led to the fire suppression panel. A barely visible film of oil drifted across a sensor lens in his overlay. Whoever'd done this had known the ordinary algorithms wouldn't detect it. Jace snapped a clean rag over the sensor, wiped until the ghost droplets evaporated into code, and reset the panel. Real lights went green; the red warning icon winked out of existence.
He tapped his earpiece. "Riley, status?"
"All clear. Vault's locked, alarm's off, and the temperature's steady."
Jace deactivated the overlay. His head cleared instantly—no ghost tracings, just the real world humming back to order. He sank onto the bench, sweat beading at his hairline.
Riley dropped beside him. "That was… insane."
He allowed himself a grin. "Felt like cheating."
Her eyes softened. "You earned it."
Outside, through the workshop window, Daniel's silhouette dissolved into the fading dusk. Jace knew the saboteurs were recalibrating. If Temporal Diagnostics made this easy, their next move would be a puzzle even he couldn't foresee.
Back at the bench, Riley tapped into the ledger.
Payment: $1,750
Wealth: $36,090.53 → $37,840.53
Taxes Added (deferred): +$262.50 (Total Pending: $262.50)
RP Gained: +150 (first use of Temporal Diagnostics)
RP Total: 128 → 278
The numbers blinked on the screen. RP: 278. Capabilities: Mechanical, Electronic, Emotional, Biological, Temporal Diagnostics.
Taxes due in three months.
Jace stared at the "Three Months" line and felt the weight of looming deadlines. He'd bought power today, but he'd traded time—both system time and calendar time—to do it.
Riley reached across, her hand covering his. "You did more than buy an upgrade. You proved it works."
He looked into her eyes and saw pride—and something warmer. "Thanks for trusting me."
She leaned closer, voice a whisper. "Always."
The hum of the fluorescents seemed to dim as the moment stretched. Then Patchwork's voice slashed through the silence, sharper and more alive than before.
"Well, well, Jace Thorne. I slept for twenty-three hours, and look at you—exit the museum without setting off a single red flag. Impressive. Temporal Diagnostics: installed, operational, and ready to ruin more saboteurs' days. Now let's see what they try next."
Jace's breath caught. The echo was back—wiser, stronger, laden with cutting humor.
He closed his eyes, letting the sarcasm settle in. "Missed you, Patch."
Outside, the sky darkened with gathering clouds—an omen of storms to come.
And somewhere beyond the workshop walls, new threats were already taking shape.
---
Status Update
- RP Total: 278
- Wealth: $37,840.53
- Pending Taxes: $262.50 (due in 3 months)
- Monthly Rent: Paid
- Capabilities: Mechanical, Electronic, Emotional, Biological, Temporal Diagnostics
- Next Upgrade (Locked): Predictive Forensics – Unlocks at 3,000 RP
---
The workshop smelled of fresh coffee and machine oil. Riley pressed a mug into Jace Thorne's hands, and he felt the morning settle around them.
"We're solid for the month," Riley said, tapping her tablet.
"Workshop rent's $1,200, apartment's $1,400, and taxes aren't due for another three months."
Jace nodded, letting the warmth of the coffee and the numbers sink in. He closed his eyes briefly, half-expecting a sarcastic jab from Patchwork. Instead, he smiled at Riley.
Patchwork's voice flickered in his mind, reserved for his ears alone.
"Ah, romance amid receipts. How quaint. Don't get too comfortable—riotous sabotage never takes a day off."
Jace kept that to himself. Riley glanced up, reading the faint tension in his eyes. "You alright?"
"Yeah," he said, handing her back the mug. "Just… thinking."
---
They drove to the city botanical greenhouse—a mosaic of glass panels streaked with dew. Inside, exotic orchids drooped under flickering heat lamps, and moisture gauges read bone-dry. Riley squeezed Jace's hand.
"Ready?" she asked.
He tapped his chest, where only he could hear Patchwork.
"Ready to defuse an eco-tastrophe. Let's hope they appreciate precision horticulture."
Jace knelt at the climate control panel. The dial had been rewired—counterclockwise now raised temperatures. He rewired it correctly, and the lamps settled into a gentle glow. Riley moved along the irrigation line, spotting a pebble wedged in a valve actuator. She pried it free, and water gushed through the pipes.
Patchwork chimed in, quietly mocking Jace's focused expression.
"Nothing like forced irrigation to remind you how much you rely on your mechanical prowess. Maybe romance isn't your strongest suit."
Riley puffed a smile at Jace's side. "Are you talking to someone?"
He glanced at her, cheeks warming. "Just… reviewing the job."
She rolled her eyes but didn't press it. Instead, she joined him by the humidifier, guiding a new sensor into place. Every time their hands brushed, Jace felt a spark deeper than any electric current.
With environmental readings stabilized and orchids perking up, Riley exhaled. "We did it."
Jace allowed himself to lean in, low enough that only she would hear. "I couldn't have done it without you."
Outside the greenhouse, dusk was spreading. Through the glass, two dark figures watched—Daniel's operatives, marking their progress. Neither knew how close Jace and Riley had become.
Back at the workshop, Riley tallied the results:
- Payment: $850
- Wealth: $37,840.53 → $38,690.53
- Taxes Added (deferred): +$127.50 (Total Pending: $390.00)
- RP Gained: +80 (precision multi-system repair)
- RP Total: 278 → 358
Riley set down her stylus and looked across the bench at him. "We make a good team."
Jace smiled, the fatigue of endless jobs fading. "Us against the world."
Patchwork's voice drifted back into his mind—dry, amused, exclusive to Jace.
"Ah yes, the dynamic duo. Next they'll be naming their next upgrade 'Romantic Resonance.' But fine—358 RP and a burgeoning love story. I'll allow it."
Riley caught Jace's half-grin. "You hearing things again?"
He shrugged, leaning into her. "Maybe. But it's nice to have company."
They stood together as the workshop's single streetlamp outside flickered on, casting their joined silhouettes long against the wall—rooted in trust, ready for whatever storms their adversaries might unleash next.
---
The VCP Research Facility loomed glass-fronted and sterile in the morning light. Jace Thorne and Riley stepped through the revolving doors, greeted by the low hum of generators and the oscillating glow of emergency lights. Scientists in crisp lab coats clustered around a console, eyes wide at the flickering server banks. Tension hung in the air thicker than the coolant mist.
"Cold-storage's cycling too warm," the lab director said, voice tight. "Our main data rack keeps rebooting randomly, and the security turnstiles are jamming staff in the lobby. We can't risk a shutdown."
Riley scanned the console readouts. "Every system's compromised. You sure it's sabotage?"
The director's jaw clenched. "We have security cameras everywhere. Whoever did this slipped past three checkpoints. We need proof."
Jace's gaze slid over the room, landing on two men in plain clothes stationed by a bank of monitors. Daniel's operatives, confident shadows leaning against the wall. He felt their eyes boring into his back.
Patchwork's voice whispered in his mind.
"Picture-perfect facility, complete with cameras. Amateur hour. Let's catch them where they're sloppy."
He flexed his fingers and moved toward the cold-storage control panel. Pulling a fresh pair of gloves from his kit, he activated Temporal Diagnostics with a swift tap on his wrist console. The world shimmered.
Ghostly overlays appeared: white tracings around every wire and fuse, pulsing at the instant they were cut or misaligned. Jace watched copper strands glow bright red where a wire had been deliberately clipped. A resistor flickered in mid-air, labeled with the wrong value.
He noted the component specs, snapped open the panel, and reached into his kit. With practiced precision he swapped in the correct resistor, soldered and sealed the joint. The temperature gauge steadied as the red pulse faded from his vision.
Riley kept the lab director and staff talking, deflecting questions about his tools and timesheets. She handled anxious inquiries, her voice calm as she guided worried researchers away from his workspace. When they glanced back, Jace was already moving to the next system.
The security turnstiles ground to a halt when he reached them. He knelt and slid a phillips bit into the catch plate housing. Temporal Diagnostics illuminated ghost screws twisting loose one by one, then dropping into spectral shadow. He retraced their path, replacing each stripped screw and torquing to precise spec.
The turnstiles clicked open on both sides. Staff burst forward, relieved, slapping colleagues on the back as they streamed inside. Riley met Jace's eye and offered a small smile, pride warming her features.
Next came the data rack—a fortress of blinking LEDs and humming drives. He crouched before the power sequencer, fingertips grazing the panel. Diagnostics pulsed along each cable: a loop wired in reverse polarity, designed to force a reboot every time power cycled.
He traced the ghost-highlighted path, gently removing the mangled splice, then routing a new cable from his kit. As he twisted wires into their correct order, the servers hummed steadily, gears spinning smoothly for the first time that day.
A collective cheer rose from the lab staff, but Jace barely heard it. His attention snapped back to the monitors where the lab director gestured urgently. "Look at these timestamps."
Riley and Jace leaned close to the screen. Eight camera feeds flickered in sequence, each marking the precise moments the systems failed. On one feed, the two plain-clothes men slipped through a restricted hallway, tools in hand. On another, they lingered at the cold-storage panel just seconds before it cut out.
Frame by frame, the saboteurs' actions were laid bare: one clipping a sensor wire, another sanding the turnstile catch, all caught in crisp high-definition. The evidence was undeniable.
Jace tapped his console. "They thought no one would review every camera? Amateur mistake."
The lab director's face flushed with anger. "This is actionable. We can press charges—and save hundreds of thousands in research losses."
Riley placed a steady hand on Jace's shoulder. "We did more than fix things. We caught them in the act."
He exhaled, a slow release of tension. "Let's package this for the board. They'll want every clip, every timestamp."
---
Back at the workshop, dusk had settled. Riley crunched the numbers while Jace cleaned his tools. The glow of her tablet lit her expression, focused and determined.
- Payment: $1,300
- Wealth: $38,690.53 → $39,990.53
- Taxes Added (deferred): +$195.00 (Total Pending: $585.00)
- RP Gained: +110 (multi-issue sabotage repair with evidence capture)
- RP Total: 358 → 468
She scrolled past the rent line. "Workshop rent is covered—$1,200—and the apartment's paid—$1,400. Taxes aren't due for another three months."
Jace set down a rag. He felt the solidity of numbers beneath his fingers, the comfort of stability after days of turmoil.
Patchwork's voice flickered back to life in his mind.
"Captured on camera. Their hubris, your victory. Now the real fun begins—legal headaches, corporate theatrics, maybe a televised hearing. Shall I cue the popcorn?"
Jace smiled wryly. "Let's hold off on the popcorn. We need strategy first."
Riley closed her tablet and looked up. "We have proof—solid, timestamped proof. We can expose them without a fight."
He nodded, eyes drifting to the window where the streetlamp cast long shadows. "We'll present it right. No leaks to the press until the board meets."
Her hand found his. "You sure you want to handle it that way?"
"If we go public too soon, they'll disappear. We need leverage."
They stood side by side, partners in work and war. The threat hadn't vanished—the saboteurs would regroup—but tonight they had an edge.
Outside, the workshop door clicked shut. Inside, the echo of heels on concrete reminded Jace that Riley was more than an ally—she was his anchor.
Patchwork's final jab came soft and conspiratorial.
"Anchors away, captain. Let's see how deep they sink when you drag them into the light."
The night stretched ahead, heavy with possibility and consequence. Jace Thorne and Riley prepared to strike back, armed not just with tools, but with the undeniable proof of their enemy's crimes.
Status Update
- RP Total: 468
- Wealth: $39,990.53
- Pending Taxes: $585.00 (due in 3 months)
- Next Rent Due In: 1 month (Workshop: $1,200; Apartment: $1,400)
- Capabilities: Mechanical, Electronic, Emotional, Biological, Temporal Diagnostics
- Next Upgrade (Locked): Predictive Forensics – Unlocks at 3,000 RP