April 14, 2021. 23:20. Richmond.
"Yeah, so… I got beef with one of the Dead Kings' head honchos," Remi starts, folding his arms awkwardly. "Long story short, man was talkin' shit, so I told that gonk to go fuck himself. Next thing I know, he's flatlined—and now the whole crew thinks I'm the one who did it."
I raise an eyebrow, curiosity sparking. "Wait, who's the guy?"
"AXIS."
No way. What are the odds?
"Wait—seriously? I… I was the one who shot him."
Remi's eyes go wide. "OH SHIT, THAT WAS YOU!? YO, MY FUCKIN' CHOOM!" He grins like a kid, practically vibrating with excitement. I blink, more amused than anything; most people flinch when they find out I kill for real. Then again, none of us are exactly normal. Remi looks like he just won a raffle.
"You… don't mind that I killed him?" I ask, one brow still raised.
"Nah, screw that guy. I'm glad you zeroed his ass," he says, laughing.
Azure chuckles from the side, arms crossed and watching him with a smirk. "This is exactly why your main bike's still sittin' in my shop."
Wait—shop?
Remi spins toward her, glaring. "Hey, they asked for it."
Azure snorts, hand on her hip. "Yeah, and you're paying for it."
While the two of them start bickering, I glance over at Tetra, who looks as lost as I feel. I can't help but smile and shrug. No clue what's going on between those two either.
Mister's voice cuts in before anyone else can jump in. "Good to know, Remi. I suggest we get going, though. We're wasting time."
I nod. "So what's the play—together or separate?"
"If we're heading to the Dead Kings' headquarters, it's better we arrive as a group. Wait for Shock and me to return—one vehicle draws less attention."
I sigh, already knowing what that means.
Guess the truck stays behind.
"Okay, see you in a bit." I end the call and glance back at the others.
"Since we're moving together, I'm gonna grab some gear from my truck."
Tetra nods toward my ride. "Need any help?"
"Nah, just figured I'd mention it so I don't surprise anyone."
I stride to the back of my vehicle and pop the trunk. Inside sits a large black duffel bag, heavy enough to thud when I lift it—packed with a few extra toys I keep for the more "intense" situations. I sling it over my shoulder with ease, then lock up the truck.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Mister and Shock returning. A quick nod between us, and the team drifts toward a silver Mercedes-Benz Sprinter with tinted windows.
A crisp scent hits me the moment I step inside—pine and cool autumn air, the kind of fragrance that reminds me of a forest after rain. I take a slow breath before finding a seat, setting my duffel bag down beside me. The interior's all black leather and carpet, polished and soft under my boots.
Shock settles beside me, Mister takes the wheel, Azure rides shotgun, and Remi and Tetra grab seats behind us. The door slides shut, and the van hums to life.
Acceleration comes smooth and steady. Huh, not bad.
Neon-lit buildings and grey towers drift by outside as Mister drives—no sharp turns, no sudden stops. The man handles the road like it's second nature. Even the way he eases to a red light feels deliberate, professional—almost caring. It's like he's driving us on a family trip instead of into gang territory.
Shock breaks the quiet.
"Soooo, while we're on the way there, we should get to know each other some more!" She shoots me an eager look. "I'll go first."
A hand presses to her chest. "I'm my brother's netrunner, part of the specialized cleanup crew for the Camorra."
Oh great—icebreakers. I keep a calm smile, playing along.
"Consider me Wissen's preferred solo. Otherwise, I'm a paid assassin—you can find my site if you dig hard enough."
A brief silence follows before Tetra speaks up.
"Uh, yeah, I'm not from Vancouver. I'm from the Thelas Nation." He rubs the back of his neck, not awkward exactly, just a little out of place. "We kind of move around a lot, but I'm here because Wissen promised to help me out."
Fair enough. I nod, satisfied with that.
Wissen's loaded and connected—makes sense someone would reach out to him for help.
Shock, though, isn't done. She leans forward with a teasing grin.
"Oh? So it's not about the money?"
Tetra shakes his head, pausing. His face tightens with conflict before he finally exhales and gives in.
"He's helping me find someone who went missing—my brother."
I raise an eyebrow but keep my gaze fixed on the passing city lights outside the window.
Shock twists in her seat to look back at him, her reflection flickering across the glass beside me. "Oh. Em. Gee. What happened? Did y'all, like, have a fight or something?"
Tetra tilts his head, confused, and I barely hold back a snort.
"He left the family a few months back. Some think he just walked out for good." He hesitates again, carefully choosing his words. "But I don't buy it. He's not exactly a family guy, but… he wouldn't leave without saying something. That's why I need Wissen's help. I'll do whatever it takes for a lead."
I nod slightly, keeping the motion subtle so no one notices. My legs cross, heel tapping lightly against the floor. Family's always a loaded topic, and something in me softens for anyone still trying to hold theirs together.
Remi breaks the tension first.
"Damn, choom, I just signed up for the side-hustle eddies—and because he could help with my music. But shiiit, respect though. Hope you find him."
The front seats have been silent until now.
Azure leans back on her elbow, glancing over her shoulder.
"Yeah, I only signed up for the extra cash," she says, throwing Remi a knowing look. "Though, to be fair, he also helped me set up my shop… among a few other things."
Mister chimes in soon after. "Likewise. My sources mentioned Wissen was hiring, and I figured a few new contacts never hurt."
Networking. Fair enough.
Shock, ever the chatterbox, refuses to let silence settle. She pops her head between the front seats, grinning.
"Y'know… I wanted to ask earlier, but, Azure—what's it like being a techie? I mostly do cleanup work—netrunning, software stuff. I never really touch the hardware side, so I was curious what you do."
Azure glances back with a smirk.
"There's not much to say," she replies. "I've worked on just about everything—cars, busted drones, electronics, even the occasional implant when someone's desperate enough."
"Woowwww. For real?" Shock tilts her head, eyes bright. "How'd you even learn all that?"
Azure's grin deepens, playful and a little mysterious.
"Now, now, can't reveal all my secrets just yet," she chuckles, lifting her hands in a half-shrug. "Let's just say my education wasn't exactly traditional—but I know a hell of a lot more than your average techie. No question about that."
"Ooooh, mysterious and demure. Soooo, what do you think about this whole railgun thing?"
A brief pause follows—subtle, but I catch it.
"Yeah, I'm not sure what to think," Azure replies after a beat. "Autumn Blade's… interesting, though."
My eyes narrow slightly. There's something in the way she says it—too casual, too familiar.
I suspect Shock's about to press her, but Mister cuts in, and the van begins to slow.
"We're here."
I turn away from Azure and glance out my window. My breath catches for a moment. It's a sight I haven't seen since childhood—a piece of my past rising out of the city night.
…
April 14, 2021. 23:50. Vancouver.
Mister parks the van along a side street, and we all lean toward the windows to take in the sight ahead.
BC Place—once a beacon of nostalgia for sports fans and concertgoers—now stands as a monument to the Dead Kings' power in Vancouver. The massive dome looms in the distance, its LED-lit exterior casting shifting colours across the skyline. Gone are the banners of sports teams and corporate sponsors; in their place hang flags bearing the gang's white skull insignia, outlined in black and gold—an extra flourish of arrogance.
Around the stadium, the streets pulse with life. Neon from nearby clubs and bars spills over sleek cars parked along the curbs—sports coupes, luxury SUVs, and heavily modded imports. Groups of sharply dressed partygoers drift between venues, their laughter mingling with the smell of alcohol and sizzling street food.
I raise an eyebrow, scanning the crowd.
The Dead Kings call themselves a gang, but this… this looks more like a high-end social club. Expensive cars, flashing lights, endless energy—who wouldn't want in?
Armed guards patrol the perimeter, their relaxed postures hiding practiced vigilance. Under the designer hoodies and ripped jeans, I catch glimpses of body armour. Tattoos of the gang's insignia curl up their necks and hands—loud and proud.
Tetra pipes up, his tone full of wonder. "Wait, I don't get it. These guys are so close to the police headquarters—how come they haven't been shut down?"
I'm about to answer, but Mister beats me to it.
"They don't sell drugs or traffic people, but they're heavily armed and fiercely territorial."
"So they've got weapons and manpower?" Tetra frowns. "I thought the police were funded by the corps here?"
"They are. But the Dead Kings aren't worth the trouble—not when Vancouver's still recovering from a financial crisis. Only recently did the mayor stabilize housing by bringing corporations into the mix. The city's focused on growth right now. The police just got their budget boost a few weeks ago."
"Oh, damn. I didn't realize things were that bad. So what do the Dead Kings actually do?"
"They started as local punks trying to make it big. That hasn't changed much. These days they pull cash as bouncers, bodyguards, and event organizers. What really sets them apart is their appeal."
"Appeal?" Tetra leans forward, curious.
Mister nods. "They're not just a gang—they're a brand. Joining the Dead Kings means chasing fame, status, and access. Connections, parties, recognition—they sell the fantasy of making it big."
I catch the uncertainty on Tetra's face and step in. "Think of it this way: you climb the social ladder, enjoy the perks, party like royalty—but when it's time to get violent, they don't hesitate."
"Ah." Tetra leans back, thinking it over. "So that's why they're still a gang."
Shock claps her hands once and slides the van door open. "Alrighttt, history lesson's over—time to move!" She hops out first, still bursting with energy. How the hell does she manage that?
Unlike her, I hesitate. Bringing in more heat would be stupid.
My gaze drops to the duffel bag at my feet. Don't worry—Mommy won't be gone for long. I give it a light pat, then step out into the cool night air.