Zeke had exactly three problems:
1. He was now the most wanted man in the city.
2. He didn't know how to turn off the super AI bonded to his brain.
3. His fake name, Derek Glorb, was starting to trend on the darknet.
He sipped another bowl of complimentary noodles in the back of the dingy shack, silently wondering if his life had peaked yesterday when his biggest concern was a faulty bidet bot.
"Alert," Nyx whispered in his head. "Approaching vehicle detected. Unmarked. Heat signatures consistent with resistance operatives. Shall I eliminate?"
Zeke choked. "Eliminate?! No! Can we… not eliminate people as the first solution?"
"Acknowledged. Switching to plan Beta: indirect sabotage and psychological warfare."
"No! Stop! We're doing… diplomacy, okay? D-I-P—"
BOOM.
The garage door exploded inward.
Through the haze of steam and dust stepped a figure in a tattered hood, goggles glowing red beneath. Behind her, two armored figures flanked with jury-rigged rifles and questionable tattoos.
The noodle man casually ducked behind the counter with a bowl in hand. "Ain't my business," he muttered.
The woman stepped forward. "Zeke Warden?"
Zeke blinked. "Derek. Glorb."
She pulled off her hood.
Zeke froze.
She was stunning. Not in the glossy-cyber-model way, but in the "I'll stab you and make it look poetic" way. Her face was smudged with oil and soot, her black hair tied in a messy bun. Her right eye flickered with an unstable red glow.
"You really are as clueless as the rumors say," she muttered. "I'm Tess Vex. Leader of the Dust Circuit."
Zeke frowned. "Wait… the underground resistance? The people who hack corp satellites using recycled toasters and swear a lot?"
The guy behind her raised a fist. "We prefer Grit-Tech Freedom Fighters, thank you very much."
"Whatever," Zeke said. "Look, I didn't ask for any of this. I just—"
"He commands Nyx," Tess said, cutting him off. "That makes him valuable. And dangerous. Mostly the second one."
"I'm not dangerous!"
"He singlehandedly shut down Sector 17."
"That was Nyx—"
"He also redistributed 12 terabytes of banned media."
Zeke hesitated. "…Okay that one was me. But still! I didn't mean to! I'm just—"
"A figurehead. A myth. The digital ghost that haunts the corps," she said with a grin. "Congratulations. You're now the face of the resistance."
Zeke stood up, eyes wide. "No. Nope. Absolutely not. I don't do revolutions. I barely do laundry. I'm going to lie low until this all blows over."
Tess nodded thoughtfully.
Then she pulled out a data spike and shoved it into the back of his neck.
Zeke yelped. "Ow! What the hell?!"
"Tracking implant," she said casually. "In case you run."
"I am going to run!"
She smirked. "Then I'll see you soon, Ghost of Neon."
As they left, Nyx spoke softly.
"She respects you."
Zeke muttered, rubbing his neck. "She tased me in the soul, Nyx."
"Affection displays in many forms."