The room still buzzed with residual tension after Rogue_NT's holographic projection disappeared. Elliot stared at the blank space where the hacker's image had flickered moments before, his mind racing. Rogue_NT's revelation about the Syndicate's larger plans was heavy enough to sink him into despair—but Elliot wasn't ready to give in just yet.
They weren't alone in this fight.
He turned to Nina, who was sitting against the wall, clutching her arm. She looked exhausted, her body slumped, her sharpness dulled by the pain and fear she'd endured. Still, there was a fire in her eyes that hadn't been there when they first started running.
"Rogue_NT might be able to distribute the files," Elliot said, "but they're not going to get us through this alive. If we're going to make it out, we'll need help."
Nina arched an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. "More help than an anonymous holographic hacker who already hates me? I'm shocked."
Elliot ignored her sarcasm and tapped on his handheld device. The map of the tunnels reappeared, glowing faintly in the dim light. He highlighted a specific node near the edge of the Mid-City District, where the tunnels intersected with an abandoned subway line.
"There's someone I know," Elliot said cautiously. "She's... not exactly a friend, but she might be able to help us. If I can convince her."
Nina straightened, narrowing her eyes. "Who is she?"
"Her name's Lora Vale," Elliot replied, his tone clipped. "She's an ex-corporate operative. Used to work for Neurovance, back when my dad was there. When everything fell apart, she went off the grid."
"And now?"
Elliot hesitated, his jaw tightening. "Now she runs guns and sells high-grade tech to anyone who can pay."
Nina blinked. "You want us to ask a black-market arms dealer for help?"
"Do you have a better idea?" Elliot shot back, his voice sharper than he intended.
Nina didn't answer right away. She studied him for a moment, then sighed. "Alright. Fine. Let's go meet your shady contact."
The path to Lora's hideout led them deeper into the abandoned infrastructure beneath the city. They moved cautiously through an old subway station, the rails long since rusted over, the platforms crumbling with neglect. Faint graffiti covered the walls—gang symbols, cryptic phrases, and faded murals that spoke of a different era.
The air was damp and carried the faint smell of mildew, and the faint dripping of water echoed ominously through the tunnels. Elliot kept his handheld raised, using its dim glow to light their way. Nina followed close behind, clutching her makeshift weapon tightly.
"This place is a maze," Nina muttered, glancing around nervously. "How do you even know where you're going?"
"I mapped these tunnels years ago," Elliot said without looking back. "Back when I still thought staying ahead of trouble was as simple as knowing where to hide."
"And now?"
"Now I know better," Elliot said grimly.
As they moved farther into the subway system, the faint hum of machinery became audible in the distance. It wasn't the sound of Syndicate drones or active infrastructure—it was something smaller, more contained.
Elliot's grip on his handheld tightened. "We're close."
The source of the noise was a large, reinforced steel door embedded in the wall of the tunnel. Its surface was scratched and dented, but the faint glow of security panels and motion sensors around the frame suggested it was very much active.
Elliot stepped forward, placing a hand on the door's access panel. It scanned his palm and beeped, the sound echoing in the empty space. A low hum followed as the door slid open, revealing a dimly lit workshop beyond.
The space was chaotic, filled with tools, weapons, and pieces of machinery strewn across tables and shelves. The air smelled faintly of oil and burning circuits, and the flickering light of monitors cast long shadows across the room.
At the center of the chaos stood Lora Vale.
She was tall and imposing, her lean, athletic frame clad in a dark utility vest over a long-sleeved tactical shirt. Her black hair was tied back in a tight braid, and her sharp blue eyes glinted with intelligence and suspicion. A jagged scar ran down the right side of her face, cutting through her eyebrow and stopping just above her cheekbone—a memento of a life lived on the edge.
Lora didn't look surprised to see them. She leaned against a workbench, her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.
"Well, well," she drawled, her voice low and smoky. "Elliot Kessler. I thought I told you to lose my number."
Elliot stepped inside cautiously, his hands raised slightly. "Lora, I know I'm probably the last person you want to see, but I need your help."
Lora's eyes flicked to Nina, then back to Elliot. "And who's this? Your new pet project?"
"Her name's Nina," Elliot said quickly. "She's—"
"I don't care who she is," Lora interrupted, pushing off the workbench and taking a step closer. "What I care about is why you're here, dragging trouble into my shop."
"It's the Syndicate," Elliot said, his voice steady. "They're after her. After us. And it's bigger than just a hit squad. They're planning something massive, Lora. We need your help to stop it."
Lora arched an eyebrow. "You want my help to take on the Syndicate? Do you have any idea how insane that sounds?"
Elliot took a deep breath, meeting her gaze. "I wouldn't be here if I had another choice."
Lora studied him for a long moment, her sharp eyes narrowing. Then she sighed, rubbing her temples.
"Damn it, Kessler," she muttered. "Alright. Talk. What do you need?"
Elliot and Nina quickly brought Lora up to speed, explaining everything they had learned about NoQAnOLs, the Syndicate's neural programming, and the files they had decrypted.
Lora listened silently, her expression unreadable. When they finished, she turned and began pacing the room, her hands on her hips.
"So, let me get this straight," she said finally. "The Syndicate's developing a neural command system that turns people into programmable puppets, and you two want to blow the whistle before they can roll it out on a massive scale?"
"Pretty much," Elliot said.
Lora let out a humorless laugh. "You've got guts, Kessler. I'll give you that."
"Will you help us or not?" Nina asked, her tone sharper than intended.
Lora glanced at her, arching an eyebrow. "Feisty. I like that." She turned back to Elliot. "Alright. I'm in. But don't expect me to play babysitter. If you screw this up, you're on your own."
Elliot nodded. "Fair enough."
Lora moved to one of the workbenches, pulling open a drawer and retrieving a small device that looked like a modified Neural Net relay.
"This," she said, holding it up, "is a signal scrambler. It'll disrupt any active neural commands within a thirty-meter radius. It's not perfect, and it won't last long, but it might give you an edge if things get ugly."
She handed it to Elliot, then turned to a rack of weapons. "You're going to need more than a pipe and some tape to deal with the Syndicate's goons."
Lora tossed Nina a small, sleek pistol. "Smart targeting. Low recoil. Don't point it at anything you're not ready to kill."
Nina stared at the weapon, her fingers closing around the grip. "Thanks... I think."
Elliot received a compact stun baton, its surface crackling faintly with energy as Lora activated it.
"Don't get cocky, Kessler," Lora said, smirking. "You're not exactly combat material."
Elliot rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
As they geared up, Lora brought out a portable terminal and connected it to her workshop's mainframe. "If you're serious about stopping the Syndicate, you'll need more than weapons. You'll need intel—and a way to stay one step ahead."
Elliot nodded, stepping closer. "What are you suggesting?"
"I'm suggesting we take the fight to them," Lora said, her blue eyes gleaming. "But first, we need to hit them where it hurts. Their network. Their labs. Their people."
Nina frowned. "That sounds... dangerous."
"It is," Lora said bluntly. "But it's the only way to stop them."
Elliot glanced at Nina, then back at Lora. "Alright," he said. "Where do we start?"
Lora smirked, her scarred face illuminated by the terminal's glow. "Welcome to the war, Kessler."