Next Location: The Regional Data Hub
The next target was a regional data hub that had been hit multiple times. Not for cash or physical files, but for raw data from the Artifact research program. Whoever was behind it left no trace—like a ghost.
> "Codename 'Silhouette,'" Lena reported over comms, her voice full of frustration. "We never get a clear face or ID. All we have are blurry camera feeds of a shadow moving too fast, too smooth. She's stealing critical components of the data. This is an observe and ID mission. Do not engage."
This time, I played it safe. I left Rustbucket—now leaner, sleeker—hidden on the data hub's rooftop, blending in with the cooling towers. I went in on foot, sneaking through a maintenance shaft, feeling the hum of the machines through the concrete.
The server room was cold and silent, lit only by the blue and green blink of status lights. Then I saw it—a shadow separating itself from the dark, moving with unnatural fluidity. She wore a combat suit that drank in the light, her face hidden behind a black visor. Silhouette, in the middle of downloading data to a portable drive.
I keyed Lena. "Target spotted. Download in progress."
> "Wait for backup. Don't move."
But then Silhouette froze. Her head tilted, even though I hadn't made a sound. The black visor pointed right at my hiding spot.
> "Observation terminated," a distorted synth-voice echoed from the speakers, not from her.
The lights went out. And from the darkness, three—no, four—Silhouettes appeared, identical, moving perfectly in sync.
> "Hologram illusions!" Lena's voice spiked in my ear. "Our sensors can't pick up the real one! Fall back, Kaelan!"
But the exit sealed. I was surrounded by shadows, each holding a plasma cutter. I ordered Rustbucket to break through the glass wall. My red-and-black mech dropped into the server room with a crash.
One Silhouette lunged. Rustbucket swung a fist—straight through empty air. The real strike came from behind, a plasma blade raking across Rustbucket's back. Alarms blared in my cockpit. Pain stabbed down my spine.
I spun and struck again. Illusion. Another attack from the side. Illusion. It was like fighting smoke. My hits were useless. Hers weren't.
> "Kaelan, she's jamming your sensors! You can't rely on visuals!" Lena shouted.
Sweat dripped down my temple. Rustbucket took more damage. I pushed it forward, trying to break the illusion line. But it was like trying to grab water. Frustration and pain boiled inside me.
Then I remembered the last lesson. Don't fight them on their terms.
I shut my eyes inside the cockpit. I cut off Rustbucket's visual feed. The world went dark. Only the hiss of server cooling, the hum of electricity—and footsteps.
I focused on the "Grit," the symbiotic link between me and Rustbucket. I wasn't looking for what I could see. I was feeling for what was real.
Four sets of vibrations in the floor. Three were perfect, machine-like. One had tiny imperfections—breathing, a weight shift.
THERE!!!!!!!
Without opening my eyes, I commanded Rustbucket to spin and jab with its blade-arm right where that "living" vibration was.
She—because now I was sure it was a woman—flinched, dodging just in time. But I'd locked onto her.
> "YOUR ILLUSION DONT WORK ANYMORE!!!!!!" I shouted, opening my eyes.
Rustbucket charged, ignoring every shadow but one. Its upgraded seismic sensors tracked her even in the middle of the illusions, reading her unique footprint through the floor.
Silhouette realized her trick was done. She tried to run. But this time, I was faster. Rustbucket intercepted, pinning her against the wall.
She looked up at me through her visor. She didn't fight. She just raised her hands, and all the illusions vanished.
> "You learn fast, 'Subject Alpha,'" the distorted voice said. "Foundation isn't wasting their time on you."
Lena and her team stormed in, restraining Silhouette. When her helmet came off, a young woman stared back—sharp eyes, cold, no regret.
> "What data were you stealing?" Lena asked.
The woman smirked. "Not stealing. Just… verifying. For a higher client." Her eyes flicked from Rustbucket to me. "They're very interested in your progress."
I climbed out of the cockpit, my body shaking with adrenaline and the echo of Rustbucket's pain. But there was something else too: certainty.
This win felt different. I didn't win with brute force or by sacrificing more of myself. I won by adapting—by turning my weakness, my reliance on physical sensation, into a strength.
Lena walked over, tablet glowing with fresh data. "Seismic sensors and perception filters locked in. Rustbucket can now separate optical illusions from physical reality using vibration and movement patterns."
I nodded, looking at Silhouette as they led her away. Every enemy, every battle wasn't a wall. It was a lesson. A key to unlocking the next level.
And I was starting to realize the Foundation wasn't just testing me. They were training me. And they were very, very good at it.
But… there was something I'd been ignoring. My body. My mind. The strain. Yeah… I needed healing.
Before I could move Rustbucket again, I blacked out—not just me, but the mech too. We both needed a break.
Lena saw it happen and knew what had to be done. She went straight to the Foundation to request clearance—for both of us.