Sector 4 — The Undercity
The rain in Neo-Tokyo wasn't just water; it was a slurry of pollutants and neon reflection. It hissed against the hot pavement.
Aeva didn't waste time. She shoved Kazuki toward a matte-black motorcycle parked in the shadows. It looked like a predatory insect—angular, hubless wheels, and an engine that hummed with a deep, magnetic growl.
"Get on," she ordered, straddling the bike.
Kazuki looked at the machine, then at his own metallic hands. "I… I don't think I should touch anything technology-related right now."
"If you stay here, the Echoes will track your thermal signature in thirty seconds," Aeva said, revving the engine. The sound was a deafening shriek. "Get on, or I leave you to them."
Kazuki climbed on behind her. The moment his chest pressed against her tactical jacket, the suit rippled.
[INTERFACE CONNECTED. SYNCING WITH VEHICLE NAVIGATION.]
"Whoa!" Kazuki gasped as a holographic map suddenly popped up in his vision, overlaying the real world.
"Hold on," Aeva warned.
She didn't accelerate; she launched.
The bike shot forward with enough G-force to snap a normal person's neck. But the silver suit stiffened instantly, locking Kazuki's spine in place to protect him.
They tore through the streets of District 9.
To Kazuki, it was terrifying. To the suit, it was slow.
As they weaved between hover-cars and massive advertising trucks, Kazuki noticed something strange. The faster they went, the calmer he felt. The panic in his chest evaporated. The world slowed down. He could see individual raindrops hitting Aeva's helmet. He could count the rotations of the tires on the car next to them.
"It feels… slow," Kazuki whispered.
"We're doing 180," Aeva yelled over the wind. "Keep your head down!"
The Safe House — The "8-Bit" Arcade
They skidded to a halt in an alleyway behind a derelict building. The neon sign above the door flickered with a broken "G": OLDEN AGE ARCADE.
Aeva hopped off and scanned the perimeter. "Inside. Don't touch anything."
Kazuki stumbled off the bike. His legs felt heavy, but the suit hummed with residual energy, like it was disappointed they had stopped moving.
They entered through the back door.
The interior was a graveyard of vintage entertainment. Rows of dusty arcade cabinets from the 2020s sat silent and dark. The air smelled of stale popcorn and ozone.
Aeva led him to a specific machine—an old racing game called OutRun.
She placed her hand on the screen. A laser grid scanned her palm.
BEEP.
The entire arcade cabinet hissed and slid sideways, revealing a hidden staircase leading down into the dark.
"After you, Speedster," Aeva said.
They descended into the basement. It wasn't a dungeon; it was a high-tech bunker. Monitors covered one wall, displaying live feeds of the city. Weapons were disassembled on a workbench.
And sitting in a swivel chair in the center of the room, spinning a pen between his fingers, was a man.
He looked to be in his late twenties. He wore a loose grey t-shirt and dark cargo pants. His hair was messy, the same shade of black as Kazuki's, but longer and unkempt.
But it was his eyes that caught Kazuki off guard. They were tired. Unbelievably tired. Like he hadn't slept in a decade.
The man stopped spinning the pen. He looked at Aeva, then shifted his gaze to Kazuki.
For a second, a strange expression crossed his face—pain? Anger? Nostalgia?
It was gone in an instant, replaced by a bored smirk.
"You're late, Aeva," the man said. His voice was rough, like gravel.
"He tripped the alarm," Aeva said, throwing her gloves onto the table. "And he put on the Core."
The man stood up. He walked over to Kazuki, moving with a lazy grace that hid dangerous precision. He stopped inches from Kazuki's face, inspecting the glowing silver suit.
"So," the man said, looking Kazuki up and down. "You're the idiot who thinks he can run."
Kazuki stood straighter, trying to look brave. "I didn't ask for this. It jumped on me."
The man laughed. It was a dry, humorless sound. "It didn't jump, kid. It chose. And it has terrible taste."
He turned his back and walked toward a coffee machine.
"My name is Renji. Welcome to the end of your normal life."
Kazuki looked at Aeva, then back at Renji. "Who are you people? Are you the resistance?"
Renji poured a cup of black coffee. He didn't turn around.
"Resistance implies we have a chance of winning," Renji muttered. "We're just the janitors. We clean up the messes time leaves behind."
He took a sip and looked at Kazuki over the rim of the mug.
"Take a seat, kid. We need to figure out how to keep you alive for the next twenty-four hours. Because right now? You have a bounty on your head higher than the GDP of a small country."
[Warning: Heart rate elevating.] the suit whispered in Kazuki's ear.
"Shut up," Kazuki told the voice in his head.
Renji's eyes narrowed. "Did you say something?"
"No," Kazuki said quickly. "Just… thinking."
Renji stared at him for a long, uncomfortable second. Then he smiled—a sad, knowing smile that made Kazuki's blood run cold.
"Don't think too hard," Renji said softly. "It gets in the way of the running."
[To Be Continued…]