April 20, 2021. 21:31. Surrey. 10 days left till Italy.
There's too much rain.
High above the city, in the crumbling bones of an abandoned skyscraper, Azure sifted through rusted metal and frayed wire. The room had once been an office—shattered glass panes, overturned desks, drywall peeling inward—but now it served as something else.
A makeshift lookout built high above the streets to track cyberpsycho activity below.
She stepped over a cracked support beam, adjusting a plastic tarp that flapped against the far window. Rain hammered the surface, smearing the city's neon into blurry streaks.
Below, Surrey sprawled in decay—neon-lit ruins, gutted buildings, alleys crawling with squatters and gangs. It had always been a wreck.
No order. Just the glow of makeshift fires and the hum of desperation.
A few feet behind her, Shock sat cross-legged on the floor, half-buried in cables. Her hands moved with silent precision as she ran diagnostics on a battered scouting drone from earlier.
Michelangelo leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, keeping watch through a shattered windowsill.
Shock straightened from the pile of scrap, brushing dirt and dust from her hands. "Okay, I get Surrey, but… do we really have to stay up here all night?" she muttered. "We've already checked half the city."
Michelangelo didn't look at her. "We're not leaving yet. This area's ideal for what we're doing."
Azure raised an eyebrow. "You say that like it's a good thing."
"It's not," he replied calmly. "It's just true."
She followed his gaze out the cracked window. "Okay, I guess. We've got a solid vantage point and a whole view of this hellhole. Gangs, squatters, junk implants held together with duct tape. Anything else I'm missing?"
He nodded. "You're underestimating how many people live down there. That's what we're watching for."
A soft hum cut into the quiet as a small drone floated to life. It zipped in a slow loop around Shock, who grinned and raised a fist. "Yay, drone's back up!" She unplugged the last cable from her cyberdeck, letting the drone hover in idle flight. Her irises shifted to a soft violet as she synced up.
"But seriously—are we sure this is the spot?" she asked, glancing around. "Why not somewhere closer to downtown? Or Richmond? Wouldn't there be better tech? More stuff… to play with?"
Michelangelo didn't move. "There's simply too much attention and order."
Shock's eyes returned to normal. "So… a dump like Surrey is better?"
"There's barely any surveillance or corporate interest. Richmond still has mercs that play judge and jury. Even Burnaby, with Roderick, was a fluke. But Surrey has no one watching, and plenty of poorly made implants in circulation. That's what makes it ideal."
Shock snorted. "Ideal to hide in, maybeeee. But, I don't think it's ideal for finding anything. Unless you mean—"
"Cyberpsychos," Azure cut in. "He's talking about running into one."
"Oh." Shock paused, expression shifting. "That… actually checks out. It's kinda messed up, but yeah—statistically, odds are decent, now that I think about it."
"Higher than decent," Michelangelo quietly added. "Especially here. Most cases here don't even get reported."
Azure exhaled through her nose, fingertips clicking apart into slender mechanical tools. Tiny servos whirred as she crouched beside the drone, tightening a loose panel and sealing a port. "Which means we'll probably find one eventually."
"Eventually, is the keyword. Perhaps not right away. But it's only a matter of time."
The wind outside howled through a cracked wall, pushing cold air through the room.
Shock let out a dramatic groan, hugging her jacket tighter. "Ugh, it's freezing. How much longer are we staying up here?"
Michelangelo didn't budge. "Several more hours. Maybe longer."
She flopped onto the floor with a theatrical sigh. "Girl, seriously? My fingers are going numb." She looked up at him, wide-eyed and pleading.
Azure shot her a look, then turned toward him. "She's not wrong, y'know. We're gonna freeze or burn out if we keep this up. Even you have limits."
He didn't respond right away, still watching the streets below. Then, finally, he exhaled. "Very well. We'll wait for another half hour."
Shock perked up immediately. "Kay! Drone's back online anyway." She flicked a switch on her cyberdeck, and the tiny machine zipped toward the shattered window, vanishing into the rain. Her eyes glowed faintly as she synced to its feed. "Oh, while we wait… mind if I ask something, Michelangelo?"
He didn't look over. "You're going to ask anyway. Go ahead."
Shock grinned. "Soooo… where have you been? I mean, someone like you doesn't just pop up with swords and Arasaka implants. Plus your name is kind of unique for a…" She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. "Wait—are you Italian?"
Michelangelo gave the faintest nod. "Yes."
Shock lit up. "No way! Me too!" She gasped and sprung up to her knees. "Finallyyy—someone else who understands! Pasta isn't just carbs; it's how we say 'I love you'!"
He didn't look at her. "It's... familiar."
Shock paused, then gave a knowing smile. "That's code for 'I miss it every day', right?"
Silence was his only answer.
"See~?" Shock giggled and elbowed Azure. "Even the walking murder machine has a soft spot."
Azure rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. "Yeah, nothing says soft like a guy who files his swords for fun."
"Hey, I've got good taste, okay?" Shock stuck out her tongue. "At least I go for the cool ones. Can't say the same for you and Remi."
"Right…" Azure snorted. "And Blake is better?"
Shock's face lit up with mock offence. "Excuse me—Blake is objectively hot. I don't mind competing with other women. The more the merrier. That man is seven feet of pure menace and charisma."
"You mean menace and narcissism?" Azure raised an eyebrow.
Shock grinned, unbothered. "Same thing when it's packaged right."
Both women laughed, but the amusement faded as quickly as it came.
The room fell quiet again, leaving only the hum of the rain and the faint whir of the drone outside.
Michelangelo waited until the conversation settled back down. Then he spoke again, softer this time. "I was an Olympic-class fencer. Drafted for nationals. Then I got cancer."
Shock blinked. "Oh—" She was left speechless, unable to find the words to respond.
"I couldn't compete," he continued evenly. "My body began to fail, and I tried everything—treatments and experimental medication. But the money ran out fast. Arasaka found me. They'd been watching for a while, and said I had potential."
Azure turned her head slightly, her tone dropping. "Oh… shit."
"They offered to rebuild me," he said. "In exchange for ownership of my body. My limbs, my organs, my implants—all Arasaka property, under their control."
Shock's smile faded. "So they just... bought you?"
"They saved me," Michelangelo corrected. "I wouldn't be alive without them. I'm well-fed, protected, and given purpose. I serve as both a blade and a shield. In return, I get to live. I have no complaints."
Azure shifted her weight, eyes narrowing faintly. "And what if you wanted to quit?"
He turned slightly toward her. "Then I would no longer own the body that allows me to exist. And I don't want to either. I want to rise high enough to be granted autonomy. I'll earn it."
Shock looked at him, half-impressed, half-sympathetic. "That's... wow."
Azure didn't speak right away.
She stared through the fogged glass, past the neon haze bleeding into the storm. Her thoughts drifted—not to Michelangelo's story, but to boardrooms and white lights, clipped voices trading orders above her head.
A name whispered in the back of her mind like rot: Jenny.
Artemis's voice echoed faintly in her mind: "And, you didn't just hear about Autumn Blade. You've seen what they're capable of. Up close."
Azure blinked, jaw tense. That's not the full story.
She caught herself clenching her fists and quickly tucked them beneath her arms.
If only you knew.
"Guess we all do what we need to survive," she said quietly, keeping her tone steady. "We're all dealt a bad hand at some point."
Michelangelo didn't notice the change in her tone, but Shock did. She raised an eyebrow but didn't pry, instead watching the drone skim past a nearby rooftop.
Outside, the storm raged on.
Michelangelo remained quiet, his gaze was still fixed on the city below. The glow of a billboard flickered across his face—half light, half shadow.
Azure stayed motionless.
The drone's hum faded into the background as her thoughts and memories spiraled.
White corridors. Windowless rooms. The hum of filtered air.
She remembered sterile lights that never dimmed, cold metal floors polished to a mirror. The taste of recycled oxygen. Lab stations stacked with data pads. Notes scribbled in haste. Test fire results.
Doors without names. Rooms without clocks.
She wasn't a prisoner, not officially—but every breath was owned by someone else. Every walk outside had to be earned, every glimpse of daylight granted only under permission.
Those who disobeyed? They were erased. No warnings, no farewells. Just gone.
And buried deep in a locked room, the prototype schematics—angled black chassis, reinforced vented muzzle, pulsing blue energy channels.
Her stomach twisted.
Do I tell anyone the railgun was my creation?
Then came the memory.
Not Jenny—they never officially met. Azure only heard the whispers, the name traded in hushed tones like a curse.
No, what she remembered was him. The man behind the mask and the immaculate suit.
Adamaris Winters. Leader of Autumn Blade.
Where Mister was calm, Adamaris was absolute. His presence pressed down on everyone, heavy as gravity itself. He didn't yell. He didn't threaten. He simply was—something past human.
Orders spoken once became law. Logic sharper than any weapon, colder than the machines that served him.
Rumours said he couldn't die. Azure almost believed them.
If Arasaka ruled East Asia from above, then Autumn Blade was an upcoming force underneath.
A perfectly tight and silent ship.
Yet... Azure escaped, somehow.
But did she really? Did she really beat the system? Or was she given freedom? Is this all a trick?
Her stomach clenched. A rising tightness in her throat and chest. Her vision blurred.
What if Jenny isn't just a coincidence? What if she's here to watch me? Why?
Azure's breath hitched. For a moment, the storm outside and the storm inside her blurred into one.
Then her gaze drifted—past Shock, past Michelangelo—to the faint memory of Artemis.
It was strange. Familiar. The way she'd pause sometimes before letting people in, like someone who'd forgotten how connection worked.
A kind of loneliness that didn't look like pain until you recognized it.
Someone like me, but not quite.
Azure swallowed hard and blinked twice, pushing the ghosts back into their box.
Rain hammered harder against the windows. The moment passed.
Shock, unaware of Azure's thoughts, tilted her head toward Michelangelo. "So, uh… not to change the subject, but how much chrome are you running with anyway? You've gotta be a tank under that suit."
Michelangelo didn't glance her way. "More than I'm allowed to disclose. Most of it hasn't reached the public market yet."
Shock gave an impressed whistle. "Oooh. Do you glow in the dark too, or what?"
That earned the faintest twitch of a smirk from him—but it left, as quickly as it appeared.
Azure exhaled softly, the tension in her chest loosening as the conversation shifted. She let her arms fall to her sides, eyes following the drone outside as it skimmed another rooftop, steady as ever.
But somewhere deep in the back of her mind, Autumn Blade still lingered.
"Oop, one sec!" Shock's eyes rapidly pulsed violet. "Got some activity!" She went quiet, her posture shifted slightly as the drone's feed flooded into her mind.
Azure and Michelangelo watched the drone as it dipped lower, weaving between neon-lit rooftop signs.
Below, a small group had gathered together—Banshees and Melders.
"Strange." Azure leaned against the broken window frame for a better look. "They don't usually mingle unless it's over turf."
It didn't look tense. It looked… casual.
Beneath her was laughter and small talk. And the passing of a sealed crate from one hand to another.
Shock muttered, "Okay, weird… gang picnic in Surrey?"
Azure's eyes narrowed. "Well, those handoffs aren't recreational, that's for sure."
Shock piloted the drone closer, parking it against a rusted vent with a clear view.
Although she didn't hear the exchange, Azure caught the tightness in Shock's face. "What's going on now?"
"Uh… so, the Banshees and Melders are apparently friends now," Shock said, blinking out of the feed. "They're exchanging something, maybe drugs? It's either that or weapons."
Michelangelo nodded. "An unusual collaboration. It could be external pressure pushing them together."
Shock tapped her temple. "Gimme a sec, I'll patch into a few more cameras and then I'll—"
A shrill, rising whir cut through the room like a blade. Heads snapped toward the drone.
Too loud. Too sudden. Too late.
And then the noise died.
The drone stilled.
Azure exhaled shakily, thinking that maybe—just maybe—it had passed. "Okay. That was—"
But she was quickly proven wrong.
Michelangelo jerked upright. "A Militech high-frequency emergency ping..."
Azure's blood ran cold.
Something was happening. Something she couldn't hear. "What?! What's happening, Shock?!"
Shock's expression shattered. Her fingers rapidly tapped against the air. "Shit! It's not me! Azure, the drone—what the hell?!"
"I-I don't know! The failsafes were solid—I tested them twice!"
"No, no, no. This isn't us! Someone just hijacked the drone!"
"What?!"
"They breached the failsafe stack like it was nothing! I didn't even catch the connection! What kind of—?" Shock's eyes widened. "They brute-forced the drone's firewall before the system even flagged it."
Michelangelo's voice darkened. "Get the drone out. How fast is the attack?"
Shock's voice barely kept up. "Faster than my hardware can track. They rewrote the control path and issued the emergency ping!"
The drone jerked mid-air, its lights pulsing erratically. It moved like a puppet forced in multiple directions.
Below, gang members flinched. Some reached for weapons, while civilians scattered.
And then came the scream.
It wasn't human. Something metallic and distorted echoed from a distant street.
Azure stiffened, her legs buckling under the stress. "Shit, we need to leave! If anyone has the implants or tech to catch the drone's ping, then they'd know exactly where we're standing!"
"I… I can't keep up!" Shock stared in disbelief. "Their deck is outpacing mine before I can even see it!"
"It's not your fault." Michelangelo pulled away from the window. "We didn't expect a third-party override to be that clean."
Shock's gaze was locked on the drone interface. Her lips parted, her voice barely above a whisper. "…They left a signature. It's non-traceable. Buried in the root."
Michelangelo stepped closer. "Who?"
She turned, face pale. "Just a letter, from someone named V. And a message."
Azure's breath caught. "A warning for who?"
Shock swallowed. Then, she read the message out loud: "Leave. Surrey isn't for Arasaka."
Outside, something charged through the streets at lighting speed. Blitzing past the Melders and Banshees.
Heavy footsteps.
Fast. Uneven. Wrong.
Michelangelo's eyes snapped from the entrance of the building to the walls of the room they were all in. "Get down. Now."
Azure froze. "W-What is—?"
"Now!" he barked.
She hit the floor just as a section of the wall exploded inward, debris scattered like shrapnel.
Through the smoke stepped a cyberpsycho—twitching and malformed.
Its frame was a grotesque mess of torn flesh and jagged hydraulics accompanied by crude plating. Glowing eyes flickered red and white, glitching erratically as it let out a strangled, mechanical screech. Wires trailed from its body like leaking vines and razor claws jutted from swollen knuckles.
It swiped at the air with wild hunger.
Michelangelo moved before it finished the sound. His suit flared as he drew a blade from his back—smooth, black, humming faintly with kinetic charge.
The creature lunged at him with breakneck speed.
Yet, Michelangelo met it mid-swing, unflinching.
Shock and Azure scrambled behind an overturned table.
The screech of metal striking metal echoed across the room.
Steel rang against razors. A storm of sparks from every clash.
Azure peeked out from behind the table, heart hammering. Her breath caught as her eyes locked onto the figure's shredded fatigues. "That's an old Militech uniform," she whispered. "That guy's… ancient. Retired military, maybe."
Shock's fingers twitched. "If the virus is in his system, I think I can isolate it. I just need a second to run a Breach Protocol. His neural sync's scrambled—I'll have to brute-force my way in. Azure, cover me if I move."
Azure reached for her handgun, hands trembling as she chambered a round. She gave a shaky nod. "Y-Yeah. I've got you." Her grip tightened. "Just… don't get yourself killed."
Michelangelo's voice cut through the chaos. "I'll keep him busy. Hurry."
He spun on his heel as the cyberpsycho lunged again. With only one katana, he traced a clean arc that batted the claw aside.
The blade shimmered with every clash.
Every step Michelangelo took was measured and controlled. The way he ducked under the psycho's next swipe was almost beautiful. He moved with so much grace and elegance.
The psycho swung again, faster, erratic.
Michelangelo pivoted, slamming his blade against the forearm, redirecting the strike.
The psycho grunted. But Michelangelo kept going. He drove his elbow into the psycho's jaw with bone-rattling force.
Michelangelo took a few steps back, glancing back at Shock and Azure. "Find me answers, fast."
Shock's voice was tight. "Backdooring his neural trace." She bit her lip as more data was processed. "Give me a second, just—"
Azure crouched beside her, focus split between Shock and the fight. Her grip tightened on the handgun. How the hell does Artemis stay calm in situations like this? Every crash of metal made her flinch.
Shock cursed under her breath, fingers flying in the air. "Ugh! Lemme try looping a daemon—"
The cyberpsycho shrieked, blood and oil dribbling from his maw. It came again, smashing through a steel pipe like it was paper. Michelangelo stepped in—close—deflecting three slashes in a blink, then ducking low and kicking the psycho off balance.
"Still no handshake," Shock muttered. "Come on, come on—ping back, you—"
Metal groaning tore through the ceiling.
Azure's head snapped up. "Shit, we need to move! There's another—"
Concrete above them split with a sharp crack.
Then it exploded.
Debris rained down as a second figure crashed through. A brute, dragging a rusted industrial hammer behind him. He was massive—bigger than the first psycho. Oil-streaked muscles bulged beneath half-broken riot armour, pieces of old corporate mercenary gear hanging off him like trophies. His eyes were bloodshot, pupils pulsating like corrupted code.
He snarled, voice slurred through clenched teeth. "They said Arasaka's dogs would be here… heh… gonna rip the pretty one's spine out…"
Azure's breath caught in her throat.
He charged—fast.
Way too fast.
"Shock, MOVE!" Azure yanked her toward the ground.
Shock yelped at the sudden tug. "AH—"
Michelangelo moved first.
With a single fluid motion, he drew his second blade—catching the next strike mid-swing. His optics flared a violent red. "Shock, work faster."
For a split second, it felt like everything halted for Azure.
Every sound stretched and every motion suspended.
But then she realized—it wasn't the world slowing.
It was Michelangelo, speeding up.
He shot forward, blurring between the two psychos. His katanas danced, twin arcs of sharpened light. Sparks erupted in spirals as his swords intercepted both attackers mid-lunge—one blade catching claws, the other parrying the hammer.
They growled like animals. The first let out a sharp, high-pitched giggle. "Fast… too fast… can't see you move…"
The second staggered, then howled. "I'll eat your fuckin' heart!"
Michelangelo didn't respond.
Azure watched his movements. Too precise to be natural.Was he reading their muscle tension? Breath patterns?Some kind of sensory boost? Something fed data straight to his eyes.
His eyes flicked to each psycho's weak points with surgical precision. Did he have some kind of targeting system? He moved like he saw cracks before they formed.
He slid low, knees and soles gripping like they were magnetized. FlexTech joints?
Azure couldn't be sure, but something in his gear absorbed the force like it was nothing.
He reacted before the strikes even landed, like his body moved on its own. Some kind of reflex co-processor? Whatever it was, he wasn't thinking—he was flowing.
He pivoted and kicked the hammer-wielding psycho backward with a heel strike. The impact knocked the brute into a wall, cracking the stone. Hydraulic reinforcement? Had to be.
The first psycho leapt from the side—razors wide. Michelangelo intercepted it mid-air, crossing both blades, and then snapping them shut around the psycho's limbs like scissors. One arm hit the ground in a spray of gore and cables.
"Y-YOU RAT BASTARD!" The psycho shrieked. "YOU'RE ONE OF THEM! YOU'RE ALL THE SAME!"
Michelangelo's voice was ice cold. "No. I'm better."
He turned—parried, cut, and redirected.
Shock scrambled to finish her scan, hands frantically typing in the air. "Come on, you slippery bas—"
The brute's distorted scream cut her off. Sparks and blood painted the walls.
Michelangelo's blades flared as he stepped into a double attack—blocked left, ducked right, spun full-circle and carved a burning line across the second psycho's chest. "Status?"
"Not done!" Shock barked. "Threading a sandbox buffer to mimic a decaying sync pattern! Just give me thirty seconds!"
The brute stumbled, clutching his wound. "You think this body cares?! I DON'T FEEL PAIN! I TOOK FIVE STIMS BEFORE THIS, YOU ARASAKA WHORE!"
Michelangelo exhaled. "Then you'll die on a high." He surged forward.
Azure was mesmerized, unable to look away. Every step Michelangelo took was beautiful. He flipped sideways off a shattered terminal and landed a spinning heel into the second psycho's neck. Cracking it loud enough to echo.
"Azure—!" Michelangelo shouted without looking. "Left flank, now!"
Azure swiveled, barely spotting the first psycho flanking with wild twitching strides.
He was rushing toward her and Shock.
"SHIT!" She fired twice—missing the head but catching the shoulder, slowing it.
He shrieked but kept going.
"Twenty seconds!" Shock yelled, eyes still glowing. "Almost got a partial handshake—stupid fucking virus keeps mutating!"
Azure spun—grabbed Shock mid-hack—and dragged them both to the ground.
The table beside them exploded. Azure hit the floor hard, ears ringing, while debris showered her.
Across from her, Michelangelo grunted, taking a glancing hit from a hammer across the ribs. Sparks flew as the strike tore into his suit, ripping the fabric.
Michelangelo's stance widened. He didn't flinch. He just glanced at the torn suit, jaw tightening. Beneath it, undamaged and intricately layered black plating gleamed.
The brute came at him again, hammer raised overhead.
Michelangelo snarled, stepping into the hammer's arc—just narrowly slipping past it—and dropping his blades. One spun in the air before he kicked it across the floor toward the psycho near Azure.
Then he drove his fist into the second one's chest—one, two, three, four, five, six—rapid and brutal strikes that staggered the brute. But before he could get a seventh, another hammer swing forced him to pivot and raise his arms.
The brute screamed, pressing down with raw force.
From behind, the first psycho pounced, claws scraping against Michelangelo's back plating.
Still, he didn't flinch.
Instead, he disengaged, sliding out from between them. In one motion, he reclaimed a katana and repositioned—now facing both threats head-on.
"That's it?" Michelangelo's optics flared brighter. He rolled his shoulders and adjusted his grip. "I expected more from factory rejects."
The first psycho shrieked—furious, goaded—then charged.
So did the second.
Michelangelo moved.
But not like before.
His stance dropped into that of a duelist.
Did he start trying?
A dozen strikes came for him. One katana alone deflected them all—clean, perfect parries. His shoulders twisted, his body flowed through impossible angles.
Then came the slashes, severing tendons in a blur of motion. The second psycho buckled.
Michelangelo pivoted and slashed upward—a crimson arc blooming across the first psycho's chest.
Azure didn't blink. Her breath caught. She could barely follow the movements.
Shock's fingers danced in the air. "Almost got it—he's glitching! Feedback loop's collapsing—I think it's the virus rewriting his OS—wait—yes, YES—"
She snapped her fingers, eyes powering down. "SAMPLE ISOLATED!"
Michelangelo's optics dimmed—then flared with something colder. "Finally."
He let out a slow exhale. And then he vanished.
At least—that's how it looked to Azure.
The first psycho screamed, but was silenced mid-breath. Its other arm came off. Then the head. Then the legs.
Michelangelo slid low, retrieved his second blade, and twisted through the second psycho's stance. Two precise slashes and the brute collapsed in chunks.
A final twitch, in front of blood-painted walls. What remained hit the ground in pieces.
Michelangelo stood between them, blades dripping.
Azure could only stare, chest rising and falling. "Holy shit…"
Silence.
Then, a sharp flick.
Michelangelo quickly swipes at the air, spraying any blood left on his katanas before sheathing them.
Azure dropped to one knee, panting. She clutched her side while staring at the corpses. "That's it?" She struggled to speak. "That's what it looks like when he stops holding back…?"
Shock was still seated, breathless. "I can't believe it. I actually got it," she whispered. "It's not the original one that entered the system. There's a bit too many mutations—but it's stable and works enough for us to study."
Michelangelo looked down at them both, not a scratch on his skin. "Excellent. We should contact the others. They'll want to know about this."
Azure stared at Shock, wide-eyed. "So… you actually caught it?"
Shock nodded, and then flopped to the ground. "It's suuuper unstable. The thing was like… mutating every time I pinged it. I finally got to lock it in a sandbox and spoof its runtime… while dodging a corrupted checksum loop."
Michelangelo gave a simple nod. "Congratulations. You're the first in the world to succeed."
"Slayyy." Shock flashed a peace sign. "Virus? Flopped. Me? Ate."
A slow breath left Azure, tension finally draining from her shoulders.
This wasn't just a win. It was a turning point.
A live sample.