Erevos never truly slept, but the hot spring district of Kuroi had its own rhythm. Steam rose from the cracks in the stone-paved streets, carrying scents of sulfur and jasmine. Neon lanterns hung beside paper ones, casting both synthetic and traditional light across teahouses, bathhouses, and glass-front cafes. It was a place where rich executives came to "detox," while shadow deals whispered behind bamboo walls.
Kai adjusted his collar as he and the crew slipped into the district, their gear hidden beneath casual layers. It felt strange, walking among couples in silk robes and tourists soaking their feet, but the disguise worked. Nobody questioned a group heading toward brunch in Kuroi.
Lady Altacora was waiting. She sat beneath the awning of a teahouse overlooking a steaming pool, wearing something more refined than her combat leathers: a fitted black dress with subtle armored seams, jade earrings that caught the neon light, and a folded parasol resting at her side. Even here, her presence drew stares.
"Kai," she greeted, her voice smooth, but her eyes flicked over the team, assessing. "And the infamous ShadowNet. I trust your trip was… uneventful?"
"Uneventful is good," Kai replied, sliding into the booth opposite her.
The others followed. Drift immediately ordered dumplings and tea, while Crow sat with her back to the wall, eyes scanning the crowd. Eve folded her spider-arms tightly under her cloak, drawing Spencer close so he wouldn't look too much like the rookie he was.
Altacora leaned forward, lowering her voice as steaming tea was poured between them. "The EMP you seek… I've confirmed its route. Warehouse 47, as Eve said. But there's more." She produced a slim holo-disk and set it between the teacups. A projection flickered up: a convoy schedule, armored transports marked with corporate sigils, drone escorts buzzing like insects around them.
"They're moving the Pulse Core through Kuroi, straight down Mainline Street," she said. "High security, yes, but the district's layout is… complicated. Too many alleys, too much steam, too many places for shadows. A blessing for us."
Spencer leaned closer, studying the holo. "They're overloading the convoy. Too many assets in one route. They're compensating for something."
Eve smirked faintly. "Good eyes. You're learning."
Altacora sipped her tea, unbothered. "There's one complication. The convoy has a forward escort unit — not standard drones. Rumors say a second generation Oblivion prototype."
The table went silent.
Crow muttered, "More dogs?"
"Not dogs," Altacora said. "Something bipedal. Faster. Meaner."
Kai's jaw tightened, but his tone stayed even. "Then we adapt."
The waitress returned with trays of food: steaming dumplings, lacquered bowls of broth, fresh bread still crackling from the oven. To anyone watching, it was just a brunch gathering, laughter and chatter spilling out with the steam. But beneath the surface, maps were memorized, routes discussed, death wagered against opportunity.
Drift tapped the convoy route. "If I can thread the alleys, I can box them in between the steam vents and the river wall. Make their escorts blind."
Eve added, "If I can plant a virus into their drone swarm before they reach the checkpoint, it'll scramble their optics long enough for us to grab the EMP."
Altacora tilted her head at Kai. "And you?"
Kai met her eyes, calm but sharp. "I'll handle the prototype."
Spencer swallowed hard but forced himself to speak. "And me?"
Eve's spider-arms twitched faintly under the table. "You'll stay with me. You'll watch, learn, and wait for your moment. Just like last time."
Altacora smiled thinly, folding her parasol shut. "Then we're agreed. Tomorrow, we turn their sanctuary into our hunting ground."
Outside, steam drifted up to the neon sky. Tourists laughed, water splashed. The district glowed with warmth and color, but at the table, ShadowNet's eyes saw only shadows and the shape of the fight to come.