Elliot Kessler's apartment was his sanctuary. It stood as a bastion of solitude amidst the unrelenting chaos of Neurova, the megacity that never slept. From his window, the sprawling metropolis was a sea of neon lights, sharp holographic billboards, and a network of sleek, autonomous vehicles zipping through the air and streets below. The night sky, a dull haze of light pollution, blended into the electric glow, casting a synthetic twilight across the Mid-City district. But inside, in his tightly controlled environment, Elliot kept the world at bay.
His apartment was a modest, rectangular space, functional but devoid of any personal touches. The walls were bare except for a few metallic shelves holding spare tech parts, tools, and cables coiled like digital snakes. Every piece of furniture served a purpose—nothing decorative, nothing sentimental. His bed was tucked into one corner, neatly made, though it looked as though it hadn't been slept in much. A small kitchenette occupied another corner, rarely used for anything more than reheating pre-packaged meals.
The centerpiece of the room, however, was Elliot's desk. It dominated the apartment, lined with three large, high-definition monitors that threw a soft blue glow across the otherwise dim space. The desk itself was covered in an assortment of gadgets and tools: keyboards, custom-built servers, holo-projectors, and a small assortment of drones that Elliot tinkered with in his free time. Cables crisscrossed the floor in a controlled mess, connecting the various components of his digital empire. It was, to an outsider, a chaotic arrangement, but to Elliot, it was the well-oiled machine that ran his life.
His computer system was state-of-the-art, powered by a processor far beyond what most civilians had access to—another relic from his family's former connections to Neurovance Industries. He had built it himself, piece by piece, ensuring it was fast enough to handle the dozens of programs he ran simultaneously. As a "freelance tech consultant," he needed that processing power to pull off his jobs. His work varied—debugging systems, cracking security locks, rerouting digital access points. It wasn't glamorous, but it kept him busy and, most importantly, it allowed him to stay indoors.
Elliot hated the outside world. He hated the noise, the crowds, the endless pressure to perform. In here, he was safe. He was in control. Outside, everything was unpredictable.
The room hummed with low mechanical noise, a sound that Elliot found strangely soothing. His fingers moved quickly over the keyboard, running lines of code across one screen while a muted news feed played on another. The text scrolled across the bottom: SURGE IN NOQANOLS-RELATED VIOLENCE SPREADS INTO MID-CITY—GOVERNMENT TO IMPLEMENT STRICTER CURFEW.
"Of course they are," Elliot muttered under his breath, glancing at the headline. It wasn't like the government actually cared. Curfews were always the first step toward losing control, and the more they cracked down, the more the city would slip into chaos.
NoQAnOLs. He had been hearing the name more frequently over the past few weeks. A new designer drug, it had swept through the Fringe District and was slowly creeping into Mid-City. The way the news framed it, the drug was a miracle for those wanting to enhance their productivity, endurance, and mental sharpness. But the reports from the underground tech forums Elliot frequented painted a much darker picture—stories of people unable to sleep for days, suffering from vivid hallucinations, violent tendencies, and eventually losing their minds. Users went from peak performance to zombie-like madness in a matter of weeks.
"People always looking for shortcuts," Elliot thought bitterly, shaking his head as he returned to his work.
A soft chime filled the room, followed by a smooth, female voice that interrupted his thoughts. NORA, his AI assistant, made her presence known.
"You've been working continuously for three hours, Elliot," NORA's voice echoed gently through his earpiece. "Would you like to initiate a break sequence?"
Elliot smiled faintly, not bothering to look up from the screen. "No, NORA. I'm fine. Just finishing up this job."
"Your brain's cognitive functions begin to degrade after prolonged periods of focused activity. A break would help optimize your mental clarity." The AI's tone was perfectly calibrated—friendly, soothing, designed to be helpful without being pushy. Elliot had programmed NORA himself, shaping her personality over the years. She was his companion in a world where real people made him uncomfortable.
Elliot shrugged, his fingers still typing. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Shall I lower the ambient light by 15% to ease eye strain?"
Elliot sighed but nodded. "Sure, go ahead."
The overhead lights dimmed slightly, casting softer shadows around the room. Elliot leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. His gaze shifted briefly to the KessNet implant at the base of his skull, reflected in the darkened screen. It was small, barely noticeable—a silver disc, about the size of a coin, embedded just below his hairline. The implant was a relic of his past, a gift from his father's work at Neurovance Industries. Designed as a neural enhancement device, the KessNet allowed Elliot to interface directly with digital systems, increasing his mental processing speed and giving him near-instant access to the Neural Net—the global digital infrastructure that ran Neurova.
In theory, KessNet should have made Elliot's life easier, more connected. But it was a reminder of everything that had gone wrong—his family, his father's downfall, the life he had been forced to leave behind. He rarely used it to its full potential, preferring to stick to the traditional keyboard-and-mouse interface for most tasks. But when he needed to… well, the implant had its advantages.
A soft ping interrupted his thoughts. A new message blinked on one of his screens. Urgent work request: bypass corporate firewall for Neurovance Industries. High-level clearance required. Full payout upon delivery.
Elliot frowned, his fingers freezing over the keyboard. Neurovance. The name always left a bitter taste in his mouth. Once, his father had been one of their top scientists, pioneering neural enhancement technology. That was, until the company became embroiled in scandal and controversy—illegal biotech experiments, shady dealings with underworld figures, and finally, the Syndicate of Nox. The very cartel responsible for unleashing NoQAnOLs on the city. It all led to the ruin of Elliot's family and his father's mysterious disappearance. After that, he had severed all ties with the company.
And now, they were back in his life.
His finger hovered over the keyboard. He should decline. There were a thousand reasons not to get involved with Neurovance again, especially now with the city on edge. But…
"NORA," he said quietly, "what do you make of this?"
The AI responded immediately. "The request originates from a secure server linked to Neurovance's internal network. High-level clearance suggests a significant payout, but also increased risk. I advise caution, Elliot."
"Caution," he repeated, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, I thought so."
But curiosity gnawed at him. Why now? Why, after all these years, was Neurovance suddenly reaching out again?
Before he could dwell on it further, the soft buzz of his apartment door interrupted the silence.
Elliot glanced toward the security monitor on the wall, frowning. He wasn't expecting anyone. The screen blinked to life, showing a familiar face—Nina Torres, his neighbor from two floors down. Her usually neat curls were a tangled mess, and she was pacing nervously outside his door, glancing over her shoulder every few seconds.
"She looks… off," Elliot thought, narrowing his eyes. Nina was always so put together, always confident. But here, she looked almost… scared.
The door buzzed again, and this time, Nina's voice came through the intercom, thin and shaky. "Elliot? I know you're in there. Please, just… open the door."
Elliot hesitated, his finger hovering over the unlock button. He didn't know Nina well, just enough for the occasional awkward hallway conversation. She had invited him to building events a few times—rooftop gatherings, or drinks with the other tenants—but he had always declined. It wasn't personal. He just preferred his solitude.
Still, something in her voice unsettled him.
Finally, he pressed the button, and the door slid open with a faint hiss. Nina stumbled inside, her eyes wide, frantic.
"Thank God," she breathed, closing the door behind her and leaning against it as if expecting someone to follow. Her hands were trembling, and her skin had a sickly pallor that hadn't been there before.
Elliot took a step back, his frown deepening. "Nina? What's going on?"
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she crossed the room quickly, her eyes darting around his apartment like she was seeing it for the first time. She barely looked at him, instead focusing on the monitors, the wires, the mess of tech scattered across the desk.
"You've got to help me," she blurted out, her voice cracking. "Please, Elliot. I don't know who else to go to."
Elliot's gut tightened. "What's wrong? What happened?"
Nina pressed a hand to her forehead, wincing
. "I haven't slept in days. I thought I could handle it. I thought… I thought it was just stress, you know? Work's been crazy, and I—" She stopped, sucking in a breath. "I took something."
Elliot's blood ran cold. "Something?"
Nina's eyes met his, and for the first time, he saw the raw fear there. "It's this… this drug. It's called NoQAnOLs. They told me it would help. Just to get through the week. Boost my focus, keep me awake. I had so much work piling up, and I—"
She stopped again, her hands trembling. "But now I can't sleep. I can't eat. I keep seeing things. I don't know what's real anymore, Elliot. I don't know—" Her voice broke, and she slumped into the chair at his desk, burying her face in her hands. "I think I made a mistake."
Elliot's heart pounded in his chest. NoQAnOLs. Of course. The stories, the news reports, the warnings—it was all true. And now, Nina had fallen into its grip.
He took a step closer, his voice low, steady. "Nina, listen to me. You need to go to a clinic. You need help. They can treat you—"
"No!" She looked up sharply, her eyes wild. "I can't go to a clinic! They'll know. They'll find me."
"They?"
Her hands gripped the edges of the desk, knuckles white. "The people who sold it to me. They're not… they're not just dealers. They're something else. They're always watching. Even now."
Elliot's stomach twisted. He didn't need to ask who she meant. The Syndicate of Nox. They had their claws deep in the drug trade, and NoQAnOLs was their latest weapon. If Nina had crossed them…
He swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair. "Okay. Just… breathe, alright? We'll figure this out."
Nina's breathing was shallow, rapid, her hands shaking uncontrollably. "I don't know what to do," she whispered. "I don't know what to do."
A loud crash echoed from the hallway, and both of them froze. Nina's eyes widened in terror, and she scrambled to her feet. "Oh God," she breathed. "They're here. They found me."
Elliot moved quickly to the security monitor, tapping the screen. Two men stood outside his door, dressed in dark, nondescript clothing. They weren't police. That much was clear.
"Nina," Elliot whispered, backing away from the monitor. "Get behind the desk. Stay out of sight."
She didn't argue, crouching behind his desk, her hands shaking as she pulled her knees to her chest. Elliot's mind raced. He couldn't let these guys take her—not after everything she'd told him. But what could he do? He was just one guy, with no weapons, no combat skills.
His eyes flicked to his monitors, to the KessNet connection points. If there was one thing he was good at, it was hacking. Maybe… maybe he could do something with the building's security systems. Buy them some time.
"NORA," he whispered, "I need access to the building's security feeds. Full control."
The AI responded instantly. "Understood, Elliot. Accessing now."
His fingers moved rapidly over the keyboard, hacking into the building's camera system. The men outside were pacing now, growing impatient.
"Lights," Elliot muttered. "Shut them down."
The hallway lights flickered, then went dark. The men cursed, stumbling in the sudden darkness.
"Nina," Elliot said quietly, moving toward her. "We're leaving. Now."
She looked up, her face pale and drawn, but nodded. Together, they slipped out the back door of his apartment, disappearing into the shadows of the building's emergency stairwell.