Vexus—city of glass towers and rotting alleys. A place where corruption wasn't hidden; it thrived, spilling into every street and shadow. Politicians sat fat in their offices, their strings pulled by corporations that owned nearly everything.
The Big Three—Helix Dynamics, Aegis Corp, and Seraphis Industries—controlled eighty-five percent of the city's economy. They didn't just build the future; they decided who got to live in it. Their complexes were fortresses, wrapped in walls of steel, surveillance, and soldiers. No one dared raid them. No one survived long enough to try.
Because of the Silencers.
The Silencers were more than just corporate security. They were a paramilitary force trained for one purpose: kill anyone who threatened the city's economy. Rebels, thieves, hackers—traitors. When the Silencers came for you, they didn't drag you to trial. They made sure no one ever found a body.
No one had ever robbed the Big Three.
Until tonight.
Zack and Nigel had been planning this job for seven long months. Their target: Helix Dynamics. The job was simple on paper—break into their database, extract documents, and deliver them to their client. But in Vexus, failure didn't mean prison. It meant death.
Nigel had trained his body, running drills in abandoned warehouses, while Zack built electronic scramblers and a custom synchronizer that could override corporate firewalls. Tonight, all that preparation would be tested.
Inside a dim apartment lit only by monitors, Zack spoke into a headset.
"Nigel, you hear me?"
A breathless reply came back. "Yeah, I hear you."
"Good. Head to the back of the building. Once you're there, plug in the scrambler. That'll give me access to the grid. You'll have fifteen minutes before the backup systems bring the cameras online."
"Fifteen minutes. Got it. Moving now."
Nigel slipped through the alleys until the looming shape of Helix Dynamics rose before him, cold and unyielding. At the rear entrance, two guards stood watch.
Nigel crouched, thinking fast. He picked up a chunk of concrete and tossed it across the lot. One guard turned his head. The other didn't have time to react before Nigel was behind him, locking an arm around his throat until he crumpled silently. The second turned too late—Nigel dropped him with a swift strike.
He slid the scrambler into the system port. Lights flickered. Cameras blinked. The grid went dark.
"Zack, it's in."
On the other end, Zack cursed. "Bad news. It's not giving us fifteen. The system's rebooting in ten."
Nigel's jaw tightened. "Then we move fast."
He sprinted through sterile halls, ducking behind corners as guards patrolled. His breath burned, but he kept pushing until Zack's voice returned.
"Fourth floor. Data warehouse. Right side corridor."
By the time Nigel reached the door, sweat clung to his shirt. He keyed his comm. "Made it."
"Good. Plug the synchronizer into one of the towers. I'll do the rest."
The device slid into the server port with a satisfying click. On Zack's end, code scrolled across screens as firewalls fell.
"I'm in. Files transferred. Sending to the client now… Done. Get out of there."
Nigel grinned, adrenaline pumping. "Did we just do the impossible?"
"Don't celebrate yet," Zack warned.
That's when alarms screamed.
The scrambler failed, systems snapping back online. Red lights bathed the halls. Cameras turned. Doors sealed.
"Shit," Nigel muttered.
"You're kidding me," Zack snapped.
"Why would I joke about this?" Nigel pulled out his sidearm—a sleek, non-lethal taser pistol, custom-built by Zack.
"Call it by its name," Zack insisted, even now. "DZ-38."
"Not the time, man!"
Footsteps thundered toward him. Nigel pressed against the wall, breathing shallow. Three guards stormed into the room, rifles raised. He fired. Blue arcs lit the dark, dropping them one by one.
"Three down. Moving." Nigel dashed for the stairwell, his ears ringing with the alarms.
The exit loomed ahead, but two guards blocked it, rifles ready. Nigel didn't hesitate. Two quick shots from the DZ-38 dropped them cold. He bolted outside—straight into a hail of bullets.
Pain exploded in his arm as rounds tore through flesh. He stumbled but kept running, diving into the shadows of an alley. Blood dripped behind him.
"Zack, I'm hit!"
"Hold on—I'm scanning routes." Zack's voice was tight. "Shit. They've locked the whole district."
"What does that mean?"
"It means the worst-case scenario. The Silencers are on the way. And they're sampling the blood you just spilled."
Nigel's stomach dropped. "Then I'm dead if we don't move now."
He sprinted through alleys, lungs burning, every shadow hiding death. Newsfeeds already blared his face across the city: WANTED. BOUNTY: 300,000 CREDITS.
"They've put a price on me," Nigel hissed.
"Three hundred thousand," Zack confirmed. "Every rat and runner in Vexus is hunting you now."
Nigel vaulted fences, crashed through an apartment window, parkoured across rooftops. But whispers of his location spread faster than his legs could carry him. By the time he reached the Boras River, the Silencers were closing in from every direction.
Breathing hard, Nigel keyed his comm one last time.
"Zack. Clear the house. They'll come for you next."
Zack was silent, then cursed. "You're right. I'll burn everything. What about you?"
Nigel's eyes locked on the raging current. "Only one option left."
"That river will kill you."
"Better the river than a Silencer's bullet."
"Damn it, Nigel…" Zack's voice broke. "If you live, meet me at the old amusement park. East outer wards."
Nigel smirked faintly. "Don't worry. You're the only family I've got. I'll try not to die."
He ran, blood soaking his arm, as the Silencers raised their rifles. He whispered a prayer and dove into the river.
Gunfire cracked. Bullets ripped the water. One struck his leg—but the current swallowed him whole.
The Silencers stood at the riverbank, eyes cold behind their masks. No one had ever survived the Boras River.
They marked him as dead.
But the current had other plans.