Fireworks lit the night-sky above Rumana’Weseqathe. To the city-state’s people, it was one of the most important days on their calendar. A fact they shared with Aquatica Njere’Masali, for albeit very different reasons. Cause while they might’ve been celebrating their Princess’ birthday, she was there for the biggest job of her career. But it couldn’t be done till later in the night, when their mark arrived from topside, so for now, she leaned on the stony railing of her temporary house’s balcony and watched fireworks dance from the city’s edge. Celebration for them. Abject torture for her.

  Oh, Why did you have to be so korring late? Her fingers clenched on the warm stone surface as her whole body stretched.

  Refilling her glass of whiskey, Aqua said, “Vyra, call Nethema.”

  A blue orb appeared next to the Vyrosmyth, making her jump, and bump the glass-bottle off the railing’s surface and into whatever oblivion awaited it down below. She blew out a sigh; “Cho’s treason, Blue stuff! What did I tell you about appearing next to me like that?”

  “What did I tell you about calling me ‘Blue Stuff’?” Vyra asked, blue orb pulsating everytime words were sent out.

  Aqua rolled her eyes. “Cho’s treason, Vyra Systemborne,” she said. “Now, you.”

  “Now what?” the Pocket System asked.

  “Call Nethema, and don’t startle me while you’re at it.”

  “You already called him, fifteen times; in the last hour,” Vyra said. “Thought startling you would do the trick. Help you exercise caution. Like a hiccup.”

  A sip from her glass. “Can’t help it,” she stretched again, turning back to the city and the lights floating above it. “I hate waiting. After all this time, the only thing standing between us and jacking back into the Vyrodom is one job. And it’s taking forever. Can you believe its finally happening.”

  “Yes. I don’t quite understand it, this unhealthy obsession with Fabre’s network. But I can believe it would lead to your return. Unless we fail.”

  “Unless we fail,” Aqua echoed, emptying her glass again. She let out a deep breath. “It’s not unhealthy.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  “Alright, I’ll bite. Why do you disapprove, Vyra?”

  “Because even trying to go back is courting death, and you were lucky enough to come out of it alive the last time, barely. Vyrodom Fabrathe sees Vyrosmyths like you come and go everyday. Takes them in. Rings them dry, then onto the next one. You could be doing anything right now with your second chance. Designing your own Soul-Systems. Leading a division at Graystone Corp. Spending time with your son—”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “Don’t,” a stern voice ordered.

  “Anything, Aqua. Why this? Why try to go back to a place that almost killed you the first time round.”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Make me.”

  “Sex. Drugs. Even other Vyronets. Nothing’s ever made me feel that way before. That invincible. Nothing and No one,” she turned her gaze back to the Pocket System. “I want it back.”

  “That’s the bait. How they steal your life away, from right under your nose.”

  She shook her head. “I’m smarter, now. I know who they are. All of them. I don’t just want Fabrathe back. I want them out. And the best part is, they won’t even see me coming.”

  Vyra pulsed, about to say something back, before blue vanished underneath a sea of red. “What’s wrong?”

  “Intruder detected! The house is compromised.”

  Aqua’s heart dropped. Pytha? Was the lateness just a ruse? A carefully executed distraction while she pulled the rug from under us? But, how? There were guard-rails she’d put in place to notify her if the Corporate Head even so much as peeked into the Soul-System. Guard-Rails which weren’t exactly legal in most of Surumkathe. Guardrails built on top of the same foundation as the ones she’d set around her hideout. If one could be broken, so could the others. But, again, how? Pytha led the second-most powerful Corporation in the Galactic World. Was a Sea-Serpent of great renown. Had lived centuries paying her problems away, however few, but with the added benefit of making sure everyone knew if they pushed too far, her form of laziness would wear thin and the fangs would come out. She wasn’t confrontational unless examples needed to be made, and more importantly, she wasn’t a Vyrosmith. Of course, she had legions of employees under her beck and call, few belonging to Aqua’s class, some even trained by her, but most of them were too low-leveled to even attempt a slip of this magnitude, and the rest would have to brute force it. There would have been signs, alarm-bells Aqua would’ve heard. Unless Pytha had someone new in her employ, a prodigy who could match the veteran, even if their ascension was recent. Unless Pytha was actually late, and this break-in had nothing to do with her at all. For Aqua was a powerful Vyrosmith, yes, but even she had a long way to go on an already charted path. Seven: that was the number of people who could slip past her armor in such a silent manner. Seven people who exceeded her in skill, while only one of them was lower leveled than her. Seven people, and six had aligned half a century ago, ceasing their war and uniting all the Soul-Servers and Tech-Dimensions each had conquered or created over the years into one banner. One nation.

  The Vyrodom Fabrathe.

  “I don’t think Pytha is the culprit,” the red orb pulsed.

  Aqua started walking toward the bedroom’s door. “Notify Nethema,” She said to the following systemborne. “And activate my jaguar eyes.”

  Vyra was worried, on haunches as high as the Vyrosmith’s. A normal request for activation would have received snark added onto by a warning of how many uses of the skill they had left and a request of her own for a final confirmation. Now, Vyra needed only the first. The mystic energy known as Techno-Mana still present in the Vyrosmith’s Weight morphed at once into a more stable and more refined Energy Artifica which began flooding her body in an instant, filling her Organic Mystic Threshold in seconds and using part of itself to honor Aqua’s request. The dark room beyond the entrance grew brighter to her, but not because its lights had been switched on. The night had let her in. Had let her sight in, improving upon it, if only for a moment, and ensuring no more stealth caught her unawares. A light-show from the city. Her pocket system thrumming behind her. Aqua took a breath and made her way into the house which was supposed to be a haven, but could now prove to be the site of a rather timely death.