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"Get your head down if you want to keep it," Reign snapped, his hand slamming into my shoulder and pinning me against a rusted shipping container.
The metal groaned under the impact. I gasped, the air leaving my lungs in a sharp hiss. Above us, the sky wasn't sky anymore. It was a grid of shimmering, obsidian geometry—the System’s interface—and it was currently chewing through the skyline of Neon Harbor like a parasite. Buildings were folding into themselves, dissolving into raw data and floating ash.
"What the hell is that?" I yelled over the roar of the wind.
"The Tower," he said, his voice a low, dangerous vibration I could feel against my spine. He didn't move his hand. His palm was heavy, hot through my thin jacket, holding me in place with a grip that said *you belong to me now*. "It’s the center of the game. And right now, it’s eating every block between here and the harbor. Including us."
I tried to squirm away, but he shifted his weight, pressing his chest against my shoulder. He smelled like ozone and burnt copper—the scent of a weapon that had been fired too many times.
"Let go! I can handle myself," I snapped, though my voice shook.
"You're Level Zero, Jett," he sneered, his lips brushing my ear. The coldness in his tone was a contrast to the heat of his body. "You can't handle a breeze, let alone a corp kill-squad. Now shut up and look."
He jerked my chin toward the street.
Three figures were gliding toward us. They weren't walking; they were skating on mag-lev boots, wearing sleek, matte-black armor that absorbed the neon lights of the city. Their visors glowed a predatory red. Corp hunters. The kind of people who got paid in credits and blood to clear out 'glitches' like me.
"They’re not here for the scenery," I whispered.
"They're here for the AI core inside me," Reign replied. He finally let go, but only to reach behind his back and draw a heavy, jagged blade that hummed with a suppressed violet light. "And since you’re legally tied to my rig now, you’re just collateral damage. Move. Now."
I didn't move. I couldn't. My boots felt like they were filled with lead, and the red dots of laser sights were already dancing across my chest.
"I'm not leaving Milo," I said, glancing back toward the ruins of the vat-sector.
Reign turned, his eyes flashing with a flicker of genuine annoyance. "Your brother is a liability. You're a liability. I'm a god-tier war machine currently shackled to a girl who can't even punch a hole in a cardboard box. Do the math, Jett."
"The math is that I'm the only one who knows how to bypass the Tower's basement locks!" I screamed back.
He paused, the blade halfway to a combat stance. He looked at me—really looked at me—like I was a piece of scrap metal he was deciding whether to melt down or keep.
"You can bypass the locks?"
"I've spent my whole life scavenging the vents and the ghost-codes of this city. I know the backdoors."
"Liar," he breathed, stepping back into my space. He didn't touch me this time, but he leaned in so close I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. It was an intimidation tactic, a dominant press of presence that made my pulse hammer against my ribs. "You're a scavenger. Not a hacker."
"I can do it," I insisted, my voice dropping. "Just get us past those bastards and I'll get you into the core."
One of the hunters opened fire.
A bolt of plasma shrieked past my ear, melting a hole through the shipping container with a violent *hiss*.
"Move!" Reign roared.
He grabbed my wrist—hard—and hauled me forward. We sprinted through the debris, the world around us dissolving. A three-story apartment complex to our left simply vanished, turning into a stream of glowing cubes that flew upward toward the Tower. People were screaming, their voices cut short as they were 'de-rezzed' by the System's expanding border.
"Stay behind me!" Reign commanded, his voice echoing with a metallic resonance.
He spun around, the violet blade carving a lethal arc through the air. He met the first hunter in a blur of motion. There was no struggle, just a sickening *crunch* of armor and bone. Reign didn't even look at the body as it slumped; he was already pivoting, his movements precise, inhuman.
But the other two were faster. They flanked us, cutting off the path to the Tower’s shimmering entrance.
"Target acquired," one of the hunters droned through a comms-filter. "Secure the AI. Terminate the Zero."
"Terminate this," I spat.
I didn't think. I just reacted. I lunged forward, stepping directly in front of Reign. I didn't have a rank, I didn't have augs, but I had a stolen pulse-pistol that was probably more likely to explode in my hand than hit a target.
I pulled the trigger.
*Click.*
Nothing.
*Click.*
I fired again, screaming in frustration. A tiny, pathetic spark flew from the barrel.
The hunter stopped, his red visor tilting. He looked at me—this Level Zero girl standing in front of a war-god—and actually laughed. It was a distorted, digital sound.
"Is this a joke?" the hunter asked. "The AI is being protected by a glitch?"
Reign's hand clamped onto the back of my neck, not in a hug, but in a grip of absolute control. He yanked me back against his chest, his voice a low growl in my ear.
"Get out of the way, you idiot. You're not a shield; you're a speed bump."
"I'm trying to help!" I yelled, struggling against his hold.
"You're trying to get yourself killed," he countered. He didn't let go. Instead, he used me as a pivot, swinging his body around mine to launch a devastating kick that sent the second hunter flying backward through a brick wall.
But the third one had his rifle leveled. He wasn't laughing anymore.
"Last warning, AI," the hunter barked. "Step away from the girl and we might let you keep your consciousness when we wipe your drive."
Reign stiffened. I could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his heart—or whatever powered him—thumped like a war drum against my back. He didn't step away. He tightened his grip on me, his fingers digging into my skin.
"I don't take orders from corporate lapdogs," Reign said, his voice dripping with a cold, lethal arrogance.
"Then you die with the trash," the hunter replied.
He squeezed the trigger.
In that split second, something happened. A surge of heat exploded from my wrist—the place where the contract had been signed. It wasn't just pain; it was a roar of energy that slammed into the air between us. A shimmering, translucent barrier flickered into existence, the plasma bolt hitting it and splashing harmlessly to the side like water on glass.
I gasped, staring at my arm. The mark was glowing. Not a soft glow, but a violent, pulsing gold that looked like it was trying to burn its way through my veins.
Reign froze. He looked at the barrier, then at me. For the first time, the arrogance in his eyes was replaced by genuine confusion.
"What did you do?" he demanded, his voice sharp.
"I didn't do anything!" I yelled.
"You're Level Zero!" he roared, shaking me. "You can't generate a kinetic shield! That's a Level 50 skill!"
"I don't know!"
The hunter screamed in rage and charged, his rifle discarded, a vibro-blade extending from his wrist. He was a blur of black steel and red light.
Reign didn't hesitate. He shoved me toward the shimmering gates of the Tower, the only safe zone left in the district.
"Go!" he commanded. "If that shield holds for ten more seconds, we can make the breach!"
I stumbled forward, my boots sliding on the glass-covered pavement. I reached the threshold of the Tower—a massive, swirling vortex of white light and floating architecture. The moment my foot touched the perimeter, the world went silent.
The screaming, the explosions, the roar of the System—all of it vanished.
I turned around. Reign was standing at the edge, his blade locked in a deadly struggle with the hunter, the sparks flying as the two metals ground together. He looked at me, his eyes fierce, commanding.
"Get inside, Jett! Get the door open!"
I reached out, my hand trembling, and touched the shimmering surface of the Tower's gate.
It didn't resist. It didn't ask for a key. It didn't scan for a rank.
Instead, the surface rippled like water, and the massive gates swung wide with a sound like a thousand bells ringing at once. It wasn't just opening—it was welcoming me.
And then, a voice drifted through the air.
It wasn't the cold, mechanical tone of the System. It was soft. Warm. A voice I hadn't heard in ten years. A voice that should have been dead.
"Jett," the voice whispered, echoing from the depths of the white light. "Jett, come home."