The rain wasn't the cinematic kind—the kind that makes a city look poetic in its decay. No, this was the kind that slapped down from the heavens in sheets so thick you couldn't see more than a few feet ahead. Kade Lumen cursed under his breath as his moped's wheels splashed through yet another pothole, spraying water up his legs.
"Weather system, volume down," he muttered, his neural HUD flickering to life. The obnoxious weather alerts screaming in his ears toned down to a dull buzz.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. Deliveries were meant to be simple—pick up the package, drop it off, collect meager pay, and avoid getting stabbed or shot in the process. But this package? It was trouble. Kade didn't know why, but he'd been in this business long enough to feel when something was off.
The address blinked on his HUD: *Sector 12: Red Line Alley, Unit 7B.* The part of the city that made headlines for all the wrong reasons. Even the cops didn't go there unless they were paid triple—and Kade was getting a flat fee.
"Great," he muttered, pulling his soaked hoodie tighter as the neon-lit skyscrapers gave way to crumbling tenements and graffiti-scarred walls. He tightened his grip on the handlebars and pushed on.
---
Across the city, in a dingy dive bar where the drinks were half-priced and the regrets were free, Gage Vann stared at the bottom of his glass. He'd been nursing the same whiskey for an hour, though the bartender probably didn't care. Gage wasn't the type to cause trouble—not anymore.
The screen above the bar buzzed with static before switching to a newsfeed.
"Reports of escalating violence in Sector 12 continue, with gang activity—"
"Mute," Gage said, gesturing lazily. The bartender complied.
Sector 12. His old stomping ground. The place where his reputation as a top-tier bounty hunter had been built and, ultimately, broken. He'd spent the last five years staying as far away from it as possible, taking petty jobs that barely covered his tab. And yet, his neural HUD was buzzing with alerts. New job offers. High pay.
He ignored them all until one caught his attention.
**Target: Package Retrieval**
**Client: Anonymous**
**Reward: 250,000 credits**
Gage blinked at the number. That was more money than he'd made in the last two years combined. But the location was the kicker: Sector 12.
"Nope," he said out loud, closing the notification.
But the message reopened itself, flashing red this time.
"Persistent bastards," he muttered, but his curiosity got the better of him. Tapping into the job details, his HUD displayed a live feed of…a kid on a moped? No, not a kid, just someone young enough to look like they had no business being in Sector 12. The package was strapped to the back of his bike, and three heavily armed drones were tailing him.
Gage sighed. "I'm going to regret this."
---
Kade had reached the drop-off point, but his gut screamed at him to turn back. The alley was too quiet, the kind of quiet that only came before trouble. He killed the moped's engine and scanned the shadows.
"Package delivery for Unit 7B?" he called out, trying to keep the quiver out of his voice.
A figure stepped out of the darkness, face obscured by a reflective mask.
"You're late," the figure said, voice modulated. "Leave the package and go."
"Uh, yeah, sure," Kade said, unstrapping the small, silver case from his bike. But as he stepped forward, his HUD blared a warning: **Hostile entities detected.**
The drones swooped in first, their mechanical wings buzzing like angry wasps. Kade barely had time to dive behind a dumpster before bullets peppered the ground where he'd been standing.
"Oh, come on!" he yelled, fumbling for the cheap shock pistol he carried for emergencies. It wouldn't do much against drones, but it made him feel less like a sitting duck.
The reflective mask turned toward him. "You brought a tracker? Idiot."
"I didn't bring anything!" Kade shouted back. "I just deliver stuff!"
The masked figure didn't respond. Instead, they pulled out a sleek plasma rifle and started firing at the drones with deadly precision. Kade watched in awe as the figure took down two drones in seconds, but the third managed to evade and return fire.
A shadow dropped from above, landing on the drone with a metallic crunch. Kade blinked as the shadow resolved itself into a man—grizzled, unshaven, and radiating a vibe that screamed, "I'm too old for this."
"What's in the box, kid?" the man asked, smashing the drone to pieces with a brutal efficiency.
"I don't know!" Kade stammered. "I'm just… a delivery guy!"
The man rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, you've got half the city's scum after you, so maybe rethink your career choices." He turned to the masked figure. "And you. Care to explain why I just saved your ass?"
The reflective mask tilted slightly. "Gage Vann. Didn't think you still had it in you."
Gage's expression darkened. "And I didn't think you were stupid enough to leave a trail this obvious."
Before the masked figure could respond, a low hum filled the air—the sound of more drones, and something heavier. A spotlight cut through the rain, illuminating the alley.
"Ah, hell," Gage muttered. "Kid, stay close. This just turned into a job interview."