"There is a beauty in what is broken, for it is through the cracks that we see the truth."
A figure emerged from a tunnel, a woman, Her black hair, streaked with hints of gold, cascaded over her shoulders.
Glancing around the abandoned slums, making sure no one was nearby. Closing the entrance, she slipped into a moonlit alley, the silver light showering across her features. Her fair skin and oval face held a quiet sharpness,
scanning her surroundings. Neatly arched brows framed her focused expression with silent alertness.
Her body was lean and agile from a life of survival but was softened by subtle curves.
Clad in a white fitted work shirt tucked into black pants, the cascading fabric fell over her form. A leather harness wrapped itself securely around her waist, framing her physique. A thigh strap bag hung from her leg, knee-high boots completing her looks.
She wore a plain trench coat over it all finished with fingerless gloves adorning her hands. The bottom of this coat flared around her legs with every step as she moved.
Ava Blanton, a notorious criminal, had just pulled off a successful heist for a Memory shard. The thrill of the crime still burned in her chest, adrenaline buzzing through her as she slipped out of the alley.
She walked, her mind wandering into contemplation of the aftermath of those actions.
"This heist was far harder than the previous missions I took." She whispered, the chilly air misting her breath.
"Those pampered fools, putting all of their wealth into one showy jewel," she growled to herself snidely, in mockery of their pride and foolhardiness. The words echoed off of the cobblestones before dissolving into the darkness of the night.
Then she tied her hair in a loose ponytail, allowing stray wisps of it to fall around her face.
She was just reaching her destination when suddenly a wave of vertigo overtook her and she found herself leaning against the cool stone wall for support. Pain seared her head, sharp and insistent, then it was gone.
Getting her feet back under her, straightening up with an expression of confusion etched all over her face,
"What the hell was that? adrenaline dump?"
Before Ava could ponder further, her stomach growled. She let out a breath, putting everything in the back of her head. "I should get something to eat," after giving out another sigh. She walked faster, passing by what looked like an ordinary three-storey building with a restaurant housed on the ground floor.
***
Standing in front of the counter top facing the cashier and asking "Delivery for maurice."
The cashier regarded her for a moment scanning her from top to bottom
Before giving out a small sigh, "Maurice is on the third floor, confirm the details with him"
Ava replied with a tone that best reflected with her surroundings, "Thank you"
Ava got to the third floor which was bustling with activity with maids doing various works guided by the tall butler at the end of the corridor.
She approached the tall butler, scanning, assessing him as a potential threat, all in a short moment.
"Delivery for Maurice."
The butler took a moment before stepping aside and opened the door he was standing in front of, he then gestured to Ava to enter.
Without waiting any longer, Ava entered the room, greeted only by the orange hue of chandeliers: it shone off polished wooden surfaces and lit the lounge area in front. A plush-cushioned sofa, upholstered in expensive, dark fabric, echoed comfort and luxury in the eye of the person who entered.
Opposite the sofa stood a heavy work table, its top littered with papers, mostly stacked. An ergonomic leather chair to match the table sat invitingly, suggesting one could sit in it for hours on end and not feel any discomfort.
Tearing her eyes away from all that blinding luxury, she turned to the figure seated at the table.
***
Ava's eyes were hooked on the man seated at the table. The man who introduced himself as Maurice, of above average height, there was a scarlet mark at the edge of his left eye, enhancing his composed features. Wearing a casual suit with black-rimmed glasses sat on his nose, and his short dark hair was combed back neatly.
Noticing Ava's arrival, Maurice stood, his eyes gleaming brightly under the soft light of crystal chandeliers. "Praise to the Unseen One for your safe return," he said, his voice sincere but the tone speaking of a ritual very familiar yet not binding.
Ava didn't bother to respond as she walked up to the table, no ceremony, her trench coat sweeping behind her, and let the small translucent memory shard fall onto the table before him. It glimmered under the light, bringing out the holes and carvings inside the multidimensional layers within the crystal—a small crystal capable of holding information for aeons.
Maurice's eyes slitted, not at the crystal, but at Ava; in a flash, Maurice smoothed his expression out so that it became imperceptible. His expression settled into calm neutrality once more as he said, "You never fail to deliver, Ava. How was the heist?" and advanced an approving smile toward her that didn't quite reach his eyes.
He was taken aback when Ava accepted his compliment. Then, she crossed her arms, her dark eyes locking onto his. "What do you plan to do with these crystals?" she asked, forthright and without responding to his question. "Without the shard's previous owners, you'll probably never be able to get your hands on what's inside?
Maurice sank back in his chair, regarding her a moment longer, studying her, as if weighing his response. The crystal on the table shimmered again, almost as if mocking the difficulty of its purpose.
"Yes, you make a valid point, Ava," Maurice started; even in his tone. "They represent a breakthrough beyond conventional storage technology that we have tended to use. Each crystal is designed to hold a century of information, inscribed across multiple layers in what we refer to as 5 dimensional memory: it preserves knowledge, genomes, histories. It's all in these crystals, and it's all going to outlive us, outlive humanity, perhaps even life itself."
Then he halts for a bit and lets Ava take it all in: "Besides its true value shines in its security, it ensures that even if stolen, the data inside will stay inside unless the owner opens it up to others.
Ava, now further puzzled, asked, "Then what's the use of getting me to steal it? Don't tell me you wanted something bad to happen to me?
Maurice felt flabbergasted by her accusation and hastened to say, "of course not! I wouldn't give you a mission knowing you would be arrested, I can't let our most capable partner be in danger now can we?"
Ava simply rolled her eyes.
He leaned forward, extending a hand toward the crystal but not quite touching it, just letting his fingers brush the surface as if the object deserved homage. "These crystals are resistant to time. No degradation. No loss. When the civilization that created them falls, the knowledge inside it stays intact, waiting for someone someday to unlock it.
Ava tilted her head slightly, unimpressed. "And?"
Maurice smiled-gently, almost not there-as if weighing a secret that he wasn't prepared to mention. He said, "it's true, that it can't be open but we have our ways" , his eyes losing their lustre as he softly added.
Ava narrowed her eyes, sensing there was more he wasn't saying, but she decided not to press. She knew better than to go too deep with folk like Maurice; there were just some secrets that made a person danger-prone, and she wasn't interested in getting tangled up in his long-range schemes.
She crossed her arms over her chest and veered onto a topic that really interested her. "When do I get paid?" she asked, paying little heed to her tone, the words coming out with no veneer of civility whatsoever. The mission was done; she wants her compensation as soon as possible.
Maurice looked at her, the slight smile on his lips. Turning from Ava to the shard that was still lying on the table, he thought of an appropriate response. "This was a high risk job," he started, making sure his words were chosen carefully. "The payout will be substantial; however, we are short of funds, so gathering the amount will take time. I can give it to you by tomorrow morning at the latest." He met her gaze steadily. "Is that acceptable?"
Ava thought a moment on his words, fingers twitching. She looked down at her twitching fingers, "That's odd?" turning her attention back to Maurice. There didn't seem to be a problem, and she saw no reason to quibble over the details. "Fine," she muttered, content with the arrangement. Without saying anything more, she whirled to the door, away from Maurice, not offering a goodbye.
After Ava had left, Maurice narrowed his eyes, clearly betraying the prior composed expression as he eyed the room's exit.