The safehouse lab smelled of ozone and stale sweat, its air thick with the low hum of jury rigged machinery. Kael leaned against a rusted server rack, his shard-blade resting on his shoulder, its faint violet glow the only steady light in the flickering room. Mira was already at work, her shard analyzer casting jagged patterns across the containment unit where the stolen shard sat. Its pulse was slow, deliberate, like a heartbeat Kael could feel in his own chest.
Rhea paced near the door, her comms unit buzzing with encrypted chatter from her network. "Toren's still off grid," she said, voice clipped. "No hits on the black market, no chatter in the Wards. Either he's deep underground, or…"
"He's alive," Kael said, cutting her off. His ribs ached, but the pain was nothing compared to the knot in his gut. Toren had pulled him out of too many fires to be gone now. He had to believe that.
Mira didn't look up from her work, her voice sharp with focus. "Kael, I need a sample from your shard. The resonance between it and this one is stronger here. If I can map the frequency, we might understand what it's trying to say."
Kael's hand went to his chest, where the shard was embedded beneath scarred skin. "Last time you 'mapped' something, I saw stars for a week. Pass."
"It's not optional," Mira snapped, finally meeting his eyes. Her cyber lenses flickered, reflecting the shard's glow. "This shard isn't just broadcasting. It's calling something. Or someone. And your visions are part of it."
Kael's jaw tightened. The visions flames, a bone temple, a woman's voice whispering about cycles were getting harder to ignore. He didn't trust Mira's obsession, but he trusted the Protocol less. "Fine. But if I start speaking in tongues, you're carrying me out."
Rhea snorted, pausing her pacing. "Deal. But we've got bigger problems. Dax's favor? That shard he wants us to steal? It's in the Red Veil's territory. Nasty crew, half-Harbinger, all psycho. Even I don't mess with them."
Kael glanced at the steel door where Dax had disappeared to "handle business." The dealer's smile had been too smooth, his terms too neat. "He's setting us up," Kael said. "Nobody offers a safehouse this good for a simple heist."
"Obviously," Rhea said, rolling her eyes. "But we're out of moves. Protocol's got drones sweeping the Underdistrict, and my network's picking up Harbinger signals. We need Dax's resources to stay off the radar."
The lab's monitors flickered, pulling Kael's attention. The grainy feed showed a tunnel nearby, where a Protocol drone hovered, its scanner cutting through the dark with a pale beam. His shard pulsed, a warning. "How long before they find us?"
"Hours, maybe," Rhea said. "Unless Dax sells us out first."
Mira's analyzer beeped, and the shard's glow intensified, bathing the lab in violet light. She froze, staring at the readouts. "This… it's not just a memory. It's a map. Coordinates, embedded in the shard's structure. Somewhere in the Wastelands."
Kael stepped closer, ignoring the ache in his ribs. "Coordinates to what?"
"I don't know," Mira admitted, her voice unsteady. "But it's old. Pre-Fall. And it's tied to your shard, Kael. Whatever's out there, it's been waiting for you."
The door hissed open, and Dax strolled in, his cybernetic eye whirring as it scanned the room. "Getting cozy, are we?" he said, his tone too light. "Lab's yours, but I need an answer on that job. Red Veil's shard isn't gonna steal itself."
Kael's grip on his blade tightened. "What's the catch, Dax? Nobody risks the Veil for pocket change."
Dax's smile didn't waver. "No catch. Just business. That shard's a rare one pure Aether, no corruption. Worth enough to buy you a new life. Or a quick death, if you're sloppy."
Rhea crossed her arms, implants glinting. "And you're just handing us the keys? Bullshit."
"Call it an investment," Dax said, leaning against the workbench. "You pull this off, I get a cut. You don't, I'm out nothing. Win win."
Kael didn't buy it. The shard in his chest hummed louder, and a vision flickered *a wasteland ruin, a gate of bone, the woman's voice: The key is yours.* He blinked it away, but Dax's eye lingered on him, like he knew something.
"Alright," Kael said, voice low. "We'll do it. But you screw us, and I'll gut you before the Protocol gets here."
Dax laughed, spreading his hands. "Wouldn't dream of it. Gear's in the back. Move fast the Veil's not patient."
As Dax left, Rhea muttered, "We're so screwed."
Kael stared at the shard in the containment unit, its light pulsing in time with his own. A map. A call. A trap. Whatever it was, he was in too deep to turn back.