The Nexus never stopped screaming. Its neon veins pulsed through the night, a city of glass and durasteel that thrived on betrayal and ambition. Sylas moved through the Underdistrict's labyrinthine alleys, his coat blending into the flickering shadows cast by malfunctioning holo-signs.
His lenses filtered the smog-heavy air, overlaying his vision with a tactical map of the Sub-Vaults. Rhea's backchannel dive had delivered: a partial blueprint, stolen from a low-tier Syndicate server. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough—access points, vent shafts, and a single unmarked chamber deep in the Sub-Vaults where the Nexus Core might be hidden.His boots scraped against the rusted catwalks, the distant roar of Sector 8's skirmishes still echoing through the Spire's underbelly.
The Free Colonies had taken his bait, hitting the Syndicate's docks with a ferocity that lit up the dataweb. Holo-newsfeeds screamed of plasma burns and shattered hulls, while the Void Collective's zealots chanted their apocalyptic hymns in the slums. Chaos was spreading, just as he'd planned. But Talis's words gnawed at him: We have Veyra. She's not as loyal as you think.Sylas didn't trust loyalty—it was a currency too easily counterfeited in the Nexus.
But Veyra, a rogue Cleaner, was a variable he couldn't predict. If the Corporate Enclaves had her, they had a blade sharper than any in the Spire. If they didn't, Talis was playing him, and Sylas hated being played."Rhea, status," he subvocalized into his comms, his voice barely a whisper as he ducked beneath a drone patrol. The Syndicate's surveillance net was stretched thin, but not thin enough to get careless.Her reply crackled through his earpiece, laced with static. "Talis is holed up in the Spire's upper tiers, Enclave territory. No eyes on Veyra yet—her signature's a ghost. Sub-Vault schematics are uploaded to your lenses. Watch your back, Sylas. The Enclaves are moving assets to the Vaults.""Assets?" Sylas's grin was a flicker in the dark. "Let's give them something to chase."
He reached a rusted hatch in the alley's understructure, its surface scarred with plasma burns. His cybernetic fingers traced the lock, interfacing with its outdated encryption. A soft click, and the hatch hissed open, revealing a maintenance shaft that plunged into the Sub-Vaults. The air inside was stale, heavy with the tang of coolant and recycled oxygen. Sylas dropped into the shaft, his boots landing softly on the grated floor below.The Sub-Vaults were a maze of forgotten machinery and abandoned tech, a graveyard of the Nexus's early days. Dim service lights cast long shadows, their hum mingling with the distant clank of automated systems. Sylas's lenses scanned for threats: no heat signatures, no active turrets. The Syndicate's defenses were still diverted, but he didn't trust the silence. Silence in the Nexus was just another kind of trap.
He moved deeper, following the blueprint's path toward the unmarked chamber. His spy-drones, tiny as insects, fanned out ahead, their feeds streaming directly to his lenses. One pinged a warning: a faint electromagnetic pulse, barely detectable, emanating from a side corridor. Sylas froze, his hand hovering over the pulse-pistol at his hip. "Rhea, you seeing this?""Yeah," she replied, her voice tight. "EM signature matches a Cleaner's stealth rig. Veyra's close."Sylas's pulse quickened, not from fear but from the thrill of the hunt. Veyra was here, drawn to the same prize.
He activated his lenses' thermal overlay, but the corridor stayed cold. She was good—too good. He needed to flush her out.He pulled a decoy beacon from his coat, a palm-sized device rigged to mimic his bio-signature. He tossed it into the corridor, and it skittered across the floor, broadcasting a false signal. A heartbeat later, a blade of blue plasma sliced through the dark, carving the beacon into molten slag. The attack was silent, precise, and faster than human reflexes could manage."Veyra," Sylas called, his voice echoing in the empty corridor. "You're wasting my time."No response. Just the faint hum of her stealth rig, closer now. Sylas's lenses caught a shimmer—her cloaking field faltering for a fraction of a second. She was circling him, a predator sizing up prey. He didn't give her the chance to strike again.He dove behind a rusted server bank, his cybernetic arm smashing through a panel to rip out a power conduit.
Sparks flew as he overloaded the local grid, flooding the corridor with a surge of electricity. The EMP pulse fried Veyra's stealth rig, and her form materialized—sleek, armored, her face obscured by a matte black visor. She held twin plasma blades, their edges glowing with lethal intent."Nice trick," she said, her voice a low, synthetic purr. "But you're out of moves, Vren."Sylas grinned, his pistol already drawn. "You sure about that?"Before she could answer, the chamber shook.
A low rumble echoed through the Sub-Vaults, followed by the scream of tearing metal. Sylas's lenses flashed a warning: Intrusion detected. Enclave signatures inbound. Talis wasn't bluffing—he'd sent a kill squad, and they were closing fast.Veyra's visor tilted, as if she sensed it too. For a moment, their eyes met—his, gleaming with defiance; hers, hidden behind that impassive mask. Then she vanished into the shadows, her blades dimming as she retreated.Sylas cursed under his breath. The Enclaves were coming, Veyra was loose, and the Nexus Core was still out of reach. The board was shifting, and he was running out of pieces to play.
To be continued…