April 22, 2021. 23:18. Richmond. 8 days left till Italy.
We reach Ironwood Plaza under the cover of night, the air heavy with moisture and streetlamp buzz.
My eyes drift to a nearby, half-lit old sign, its glow barely illuminating concrete walls scarred with gang graffiti and corners crumbling under moss and neglect.
The mall itself is like a rotting carcass in the middle of suburbia. Around it, condos and cul-de-sacs sleep soundly, pretending not to notice the infection festering at their doorstep.
As for us, we move along the outer edges, keeping to the shadows cast by parked cars and flickering neon signs.
"He's confirmed six entry points. Only two are active, though." Mister quietly relays to us Michelangelo's findings. "The east lot has a rotating pair of lookouts. And there's drones up top—thermal imaging, by the looks of it."
"I see," I reply calmly. "What about the roof? Any access points or patrols up there?"
"I'll ask." Mister texts a response to Michelangelo. "Give us a minute."
I nod and crouch behind a dumpster, peering through the cracked metal slats of a rusted fence. Inside the lot, the Melders are everywhere. Some lean on their bikes, others lounge across broken benches, their bodies a grotesque mix of flesh and aftermarket chrome. A woman with half her skull exposed and pulsing red lights where her eyes should be laughs as a man beside her adjusts a poorly embedded gun in his forearm.
Shit. There's so many of them.
My eyes dart around, catching sight of multiple Melder guards—each one geared to take on an entire squad of cops alone. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, jaw tight, trying to look casual while my pulse starts to creep up.
Damn it… I specialize in single-target assassinations—on HUMANS—not fighting unregistered cyberpsychos… or whatever the hell these guys are.
My fingers tremble at the thought of a gunfight with cyborgs. I catch every exposed wire, every haphazardly bolted-on armor plate, and the grotesque cluster of red goggles welded over the Melders' eye sockets. Walking into a crowd like that… is just asking for trouble.
I shift my weight, steadying my breath.
Remi catches my hesitation. "Bro, you good?"
I nod. "Yeah. There's just… a lot more than I expected."
Mister stares at his phone. "So far, only pre-approved entrants get inside the mall. Everyone else waits outside the main entrance. No questions or exceptions."
Tetra keeps his eyes forward, muttering, "Man… you're telling me that everyone around here just goes about their night like this is normal? Like… living next to a gang-controlled death mall is just part of everyday suburban life?"
"Because it is, sadly," I say quietly. "They've gotten used to pretending that wolves don't exist here. No one wants to mess with the Melders—not even the Velvs around here. As far as I know, there's only a few groups that can actually stand up to them."
There's a long pause before Mister reads out Michelangelo's next message. "He just finished his loop. The rooftop's locked down tight, and there's only one point of access through the ventilation stairwell, but it's got a biometric ID."
Remi smirks. "Shiiiiit, man's treating this like a heist."
"That's because it is."
We keep moving.
The closer we get, the more the mall reveals itself—not as some decaying relic, but as something alive and watching. My ears twitch. I can hear it: the faintest distortion of sound, the whisper of motion sensors calibrating, the low whine of an auto-turret priming, and the subtle tick of servos overhead.
I tap Tetra's shoulder, and nod towards a half-collapsed billboard above the strip of pawnshops and half-shuttered dispensaries.
"Hey, can you climb up and get a bird's-eye? I need you to count the rotating cameras. Also, watch the main entrance—see how often the guards swap."
Tetra hesitates. "That'll take me past two Melders. You sure?"
"They haven't clocked us in yet. If you freeze up or act suspicious, they will. Just pretend you're a local."
"Hmmm, okay." He nods and moves.
While waiting, I duck behind an abandoned vending machine, scanning the lot. A high-pitched whine slices through the air—the signature sound of a surveillance drone cutting past at high speed. I glance up, tracking its path at a steady pace.
One-minute intervals and no varying routes. Nice.
"Two floor guards by the main doors," I murmur to Remi and Mister behind me. "One's got a full bionic leg, limping slightly—might be compensating for a faulty ankle servo. The other one's using some sort of blade attachment on their arm. They don't seem like pros, but they don't look like kids either."
Mister nods. "I'll be back. There's someone nearby I might be able to talk to. I'll see if I can squeeze out a name or two. Maybe Benny's favourites."
Remi motions toward a graffiti-tagged side wall. "Aight, we'll hang back."
Mister's gone before we can say more, his silhouette melting into a narrow alley.
This place isn't just fortified. It's a fortress dressed in suburban rot.
I glance at the reinforced shutters disguised as broken windows. Vendor stalls converted into makeshift barricades. Melders lounge around like they're just hanging out, but I catch the signs—fingers resting too close to triggers, cyberoptics tracking movement, not conversation.
And it's not just the chrome.
Civilians pass by in groups, walking fast with their heads down. Not a single one looks towards the mall. Not once. Not even out of curiosity.
Smart.
I shift behind a crumbling wall, scanning for more threats.
Man… I wish Shock and Azure were here. Shock would've already mapped the cameras or hacked the security grid. And Azure? She'd clock the make and model of every Melder implant at a glance—and fry them if we needed.
But they're not here. They're protecting kids and chasing a man in a coat who shouldn't exist.
C'mon, Gina, Focus.
Behind me, Remi and Tetra approach again. "Mister's still gone?" Tetra asks.
"Yeah." I nod, eyes still forward. "He'll let us know if it goes sideways."
Tetra crouches, wiping sweat off his brow. "This place is a nightmare to crack. Too many eyes. Too many bodies." Then he pauses, realisation dawning. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Depends."
He points to a manhole half-hidden beneath a collapsed fence. "We could check the sewers."
I pause, considering the risk. "Sure. Why not."
Remi chuckles as we approach the hatch. "We planning to bust in underground?"
"Who knows? It's better than knocking on the front door, that's for sure," I mutter, pulling the cover loose with a grunt. "Either that or we'll find something else down there."
I crouch at the edge of the hatch, peering into the dark tunnel below. A sharp, sour smell hits immediately. It's not unbearable—but it's thick and damp. Familiar in a bad way.
I hesitate, and frown. "Wait."
Ah, right… sewers could mean methane or all kinds of shit.One wrong spark from a cybernetic or a stray round and we're done. Or worse—leaking gas could knock us out before we even realise we've been breathing it.
Remi, already crouched and ready to hop in, pauses. "What's up?"
"There might be gas down there," I mutter. "It could be toxic, flammable, or both. If we're heading into a closed system and there's a buildup of methane, ammonia, carbon monoxide—any of that—we're not walking out."
Tetra shifts uncomfortably, glancing between us. "Wouldn't it, like… air out eventually, though? Sewers connect to open places, right? Shouldn't the airflow keep it from building up?"
"Fair question. But not always," I say. "Depends on how long the system's been sealed, how deep we go, and whether the vents are jammed or collapsed. It could be safe, or, it could knock us out in minutes."
While I talk, Remi drops down with a grunt.
I blink. "Dude… are you even listening?"
"Yup." His voice echoes faintly from below. "You're paranoid."
"Paranoid keeps us alive."
"I'm already breathing just fine. Don't smell anything too spicy down here." He clicks his tongue. "You worry too much."
Tetra raises a brow. I roll my eyes.
We wait a few moments in silence while Remi pokes around. Then I hear him further down the sewer. "Yo! It's all good! Not exactly fresh, but I've been in worse."
"Great," I mutter, grabbing the edge of the hatch and dropping down. "Time to head down…"
Tetra follows close behind, landing with a soft splash.
The tunnel is wide enough to walk side-by-side, though the sludge runoff hugs the edges in a thin, grimy stream. Overhead, faint streaks of green paint or mold stretch down from the vents. A low hum echoes from somewhere far off.
I adjust my sleeve and then feel my phone buzz.
Huh?
I check the sender ID—it's Nano.
"Soooo... when's our date?" Followed by a kissing emoji.
There's signal down here?
I raise an eyebrow and thumb out a reply.
"Don't call it a date."
She fires back instantly.
"Too late!! Already put it in my calendar as 'Date with Artemis :3'."
"Fineee. I'll lyk when I'm free later. Super busy rn gtg."
"YAAAAAAYYYYYYYYY!!!!! <3333"
I exhale through my nose, equal parts annoyed and amused. My lips twitch but I force the smirk down.
Tetra notices. "Uh… should I give you a minute?"
"I'm good," I mutter, pocketing my phone. "Just didn't expect to get a signal down here."
He tilts his head. "Oh wait… Do you think we can use GPS or something? Maybe map out where we're going?"
I blink, considering it. "Actually… that's not a bad idea."
We slow down for a moment, Tetra pulling out his phone and opening a map app. I sync up mine and start logging our path—every left, right, landmark, and sewer junction.
Meanwhile, Remi's wandering a few meters ahead of us, humming like he's window-shopping in filth.
I exchange a look with Tetra. "You watch his back. And I'll watch out for any traps."
Tetra nods. "Sounds good."
Time slips by as we move deeper, sewer water sloshing with our every step. The map updates gradually, a thin line stretching from Ironwood Plaza to our current position.
Though simple in design, the path feels oppressive. The further we go, the shadows deepen—broad tunnels arch overhead, their walls slick with moisture and streaked with rust. The air is thick and damp, and the steady sound of flowing water echoes ahead.
After several minutes, I pause, scanning the path ahead before checking my phone. "If we keep going, we should hit an outlet. Maybe even a full channel or spillway that empties into the strait."
Tetra stops beside me. "Hold up. I just realised something. If this actually connects to the strait, I can call my family—they'd for sure help out."
I soften. "Yeah… that'd be nice."
Tetra smirks and gives me a gentle jab in the ribs. "You miss them?"
I roll my eyes. "Will neither confirm nor deny."
Up ahead, Remi's voice carries back to us. "Yo, check this out."
We follow his voice into a chamber where something's painted across the wall. I step closer, squinting at the jagged emblem: a fanged skull wreathed in long spikes, trailing with what looks like phantom smoke—a symbol from a nomad pack.
It's not street art… it's Raffen Shiv.
Tetra frowns at it. "Huh? That's… a Raffen Shiv sign. Wraiths, specifically. They use it to mark territory—or places they visit often."
I give him a narrow look. "Weird. Does that mean they've been routing through here? I'd assume so."
The symbol's faded—paint long since dried. Remi folds his arms. "Bro… I didn't even take a hit yet—and you're telling me we're standing in some wackass nomad territory?" He pauses, then glances at Tetra. "Uh, no offence."
"Nah don't worry. I get it." Tetra laughs. "But seeing this symbol isn't a good sign."
My fingers trace along the symbol. "Yeah… don't they work as smugglers—and traffickers?"
"They do. But they shouldn't be here—so either someone invited them… or someone's paying them."
"You think it's Benny?"
"Not sure…" Tetra runs a hand through his hair. "Anyways, we should tell Mister."
I nod. "Yeah, let's keep moving until we find an exit—or their entry point. Then call it in."
"The hell are the Raffen Shiv, anyway?" Remi's voice bounces off the tunnel walls. "First time hearing about 'em."
I glance at Tetra. "May I say my piece first?"
He nods. "Yeah, go for it."
We start moving again, boots thudding softly against the damp concrete.
As we walk, I offer context. "From what I've read, they're a nomad offshoot. Started out like any other pack—roaming the highways, picking up odd jobs, just trying to stay alive after the crash. But then they splintered into smaller groups. Some got super violent and territorial. And those are the ones that became the Raffen Shiv. They mostly operate outside the cities, much like any nomad group—sticking to places where law died and no one cared enough to bring it back."
"Outlands—that's what we call them," Tetra adds. "Basically anything that's a collapsed zone. So… dead cities and wastelands. Nomads live wherever people don't want to. My family's a bit different—we mostly stick to coastlines and international waters. We just trade and fish. But the Raffen? They take and burn stuff down. They don't negotiate, and they'll skin a corpse for implants and wear it for fun."
Remi winces. "Shiiiit. That's metal. And not in a good way."
I glance sideways. "Nomads don't usually come into urban territory though. Not unless there's something in it for them, right?"
Tetra hums, not liking the sound of that. "Yeah... they're supposed to be on the east side of North America. My family's run into them before, and… let's just say it didn't go well. We've had tension for years."
Remi raises an eyebrow. "Shit. Beef, huh? What are you guys called again? They-ass?"
HUH?!
Tetra immediately snorts, trying—and failing—to hold back a laugh.
But I break first, barking out a half-hysterical laugh, completely blindsided by the whiplash from serious to stupid. I slap a hand over my mouth. "Dude, really? They-ass?"
Remi flushes. "BRO! I've got a shitty memory, okay? MY BAD—I GUESS—FOR NOT REMEMBERING!"
I grin, still trying to stifle my laughter and regain some composure. "Yeah, but did you have to put that much emphasis on the ass part?"
Tetra chuckles, nodding. "That's fair. Not a lot of folks talk about us in media. We don't exactly make waves—no pun intended." He clears his throat, slipping back into a more serious tone. "Anyways—yeah, we're called Thelas. Spelt T-H-E-L-A-S. Think 'thay-lahs', not 'they-ass'." He corrects Remi, still smiling. "We're not all in one place, though. We're constantly travelling—wide, and across the oceans."
Remi nods at Tetra. "Makes sense. 'Preciate it, choom." Then he flips me off without hesitation. "And you're lucky I don't have something worse locked and loaded."
I shrug with mock innocence, batting my eyes in an exaggerated baby voice. "Aww, is wittle Wemi mad~? Does he need a baby bottle too~?" I wink and stick my tongue out. "That's what you get for laughing at me earlier."
Remi snorts, shaking his head as a grin breaks through. "Dawg, go flatline yourself."
We all crack up, our laughter echoing through the tunnel. It takes a few seconds to reel it back in. Tetra exhales, wiping his eyes. I catch my breath, still smiling, and Remi's chuckles fade into a quiet mutter.
Eventually, we keep moving, the scent of brine growing stronger with every step.
The tunnel stretches on, the walls still slick with moss and rust. Time drags on, and our boots echo with each step, cutting through the stillness.
…
April 23, 2021. 01:42. Richmond. 7 days left till Italy.
Holy shit, we're near the end.
The salty air cuts through the sewer stench like a knife. I adjust my cap, leaning into the wind as I scan the scene.
Driftwood, busted debris, and a few crates caught in the tidepool.
Hmm, but nothing immediately suspicious.
Up ahead, the maintenance gate looms, rusted and heavy.
"It's been two hours," I mutter, my voice low with exhaustion. "Ugh, it felt like ten."
Remi groans and stretches his back. "Next time, I'm bringing a hoverboard."
Tetra exhales in relief. "At least we made it."
"Now, the question is," I say, "are we the only ones who've used this path?"
Remi steps closer to the grate, peering through. "If the Raffens are using this to smuggle cargo, or even people... this could be their backdoor."
"And maybe our way in," I mutter.
Tetra nods. "Yeah… Let's not think about it right now. We luckily didn't run into anyone—just the painted logo back there. Either way, we should let Mister know."
I click my tongue. "I'll let him know once we're outside."
We push open the gate and step out, into the salt air. Our boots land on coarse gravel and wet sand. The sound of waves slapping against the shore welcomes us.
Remi and Tetra take a moment to enjoy the beach while I stay quiet. I don't say it out loud, but something itches at the back of my mind.
If the Raffen Shiv are creeping into Vancouver… then what the hell's happening under the surface?
I always knew this city had problems, even if it's one of the better ones. I just figured I could stick to my lane—modelling, gigs, contracts. Hang out with friends, work jobs, stay out of gang and corpo bullshit.
Just… what is going on in this city?
The arrival of Autumn Blade, an increase in cyberpsychosis, a gang war on the horizon, and now Raffen Shiv in the sewers?
Ugh. Why Vancouver?
I shake off the thoughts and pull out my phone, checking where we ended up.
Garry Point Park, huh?
I stare at the dot on my map, sitting right on the western edge of Richmond.
Then I look around.
It's quiet.
I spot a sprawling waterfront park—grassy trails, scattered beach rock, and faint tracks in the sand. Just enough footprints to show that people came through here regularly… but not enough to suggest anyone would notice smugglers slipping through at this hour.
Tetra scans the beach. "Wow. The view here's better than I expected." He nods toward a distant light offshore. "There's a shipping lane just off the coast… You could sneak a boat in at night, and no one would question it."
I nod and pin our location, marking it as a potential ingress or egress point. "Do you think your family would actually show up if we needed them to?"
"Absolutely." Tetra grins. "They're just a few hours out. You saw how they are—if we explain the situation, they'll help. No hesitation."
"That's true. Alright, I guess we can keep them as a backup contact. Not sure for what yet, but it's good to have the option."
Remi strolls a few steps ahead and lifts his phone, snapping a wide-angle shot of the moonlight casting over the sea and surrounding area. "Lowkey… this would make for a fire album cover," he mutters, adjusting the lighting. "It's so raw."
I raise a brow. "Didn't take you as a photography guy."
"Gotta appreciate the fine arts. How else am I gonna bag the shorties?"
I give him a slow, skeptical look.
He laughs. "Relax, choom, it's a joke."
"Could've fooled me," I mutter. "With you, I never know."
He lifts both hands. "Hey, we all know that's part of my charm."
Before I can fire back, my phone buzzes. Remi's does too.
Oh.
He glances at his screen. "Yo, check the chat."
I glance down at my phone, catching Mister's message in the group chat.
"@Remi @Tetra @Artemis What're you three up to?"
I type back quickly.
"We found a sewer exit that connects straight into the Strait of Georgia. Garry Point Park. Tetra's family can also give us a hand if needed. I'll send you what we got."
I upload my notes into the chat just as Shock's text lights up the screen.
"HIIIII!! BTW I got updates!! Kids are all good & safe!!! But trench coat guy? I salvaged multiple clips of him heading into Redpoint, but he's pretty sneaky. Alsoooo, transit routes show him coming in through Burnaby. I'll need to head home to keep digging tho. My portable cyberdeck can't keep up :((("
My heart skips. Shit. It's Burnaby again. That's at least twice now.
She sends a second message, this time with a sad face emoji.
"There's wayyyy too much latency trying to spoof security endpoints across districts. My signal degrades hard past local subnet access. Anddd I don't have the CPU power or packet injection strength for long-distance net crawls. Sooo… yeahhh… I'll need my battlestation to brute-force deeper queries and scan archived feeds."
Mister sends a thumbs-up emoji and a text.
"Good work. Don't stay up too late."
"I won't!! Give me a few hours and I'll have his address soon!!"
Mister responds with another thumbs-up.
"Alright. We're counting on you. Thank you, Shock."
Then it's Azure's message.
"I'll be heading back with her BTW. Shock'll need the extra help. I'll handle any hardware rerouting. Might even run diagnostics or scripts if she needs it. Oh and @Remi the kids will be taken in by a med team downtown tmrw. They'll get proper attention and care."
Remi replies in less than a second.
"U sure they'll be okay? Fr?"
"Yes. They're a good clinic with no corpo strings. Visit tomorrow if ur worried."
"Thx. DM me the address."
"Kk."
Azure and Shock go offline after that.
Mister messages again.
"By the way @Remi @Tetra @Artemis When you're ready, we can meet up and debrief. But I understand if it's too late."
Now it's Tetra's turn to answer.
"Honestly? Yeah… it might be."
"Understandable. Then, please, get some rest. Thanks again for finding the sewer. I'll report what I found on my end: some people around the plaza are willing to be bought. We might have allies if we grease the right palms."
Nice, that'll help deal with security.
"Also, Michelangelo found an electrical substation near the back lot. If we can kill it, we can shut down the mall's lights. Even parts of the district. And… there's a party. Two nights from now. Big guest list. VIPs, suits, dealers, a couple big players. It might be our only shot to slip in."
Shit. That's dangerously close to the flight.
I frown, stomach tightening as I type. "That's cutting it close. What's the plan?"
"Still working on it. There's more people than expected. But that means more cover for us. If we play it right, multiple of us can sneak in while security's distracted."
"Perfect time for chaos IMO." Remi joins in again. "Also, crazy idea. I've got something I've been working on. Dead Kings album dropping soon. Boy Lacroix. Been advertising it for WEEKS now, I bet I'll get enough people even if I do a sudden meetup."
He sends a recent picture of the moon over the beach. "This'll be the pic. Imagine me hosting a street concert near the plaza… perfect way to advertise and maybe even piss off some Melders. Could buy u guys time to slip in."
Tetra puts his phone aside and looks at Remi with a raised eyebrow. "You want to throw a concert in front of a gang stronghold…?"
"Think of the distraction." Remi smirks. "Ignore the fact I might get shot."
"Man, you're insane."
"That's what the 'i' in my name stands for."
"Wait. Is it actually?"
"HAH! No. Just messin' with you."
I open my mouth to shoot Remi down, but pause.
Damn. He might be onto something.
Another message from Mister snaps all of us back to the group chat.
"That could work. We'll place the concert nearby, and use it to get as much attention as possible before cutting the generator. Michelangelo takes out the power and then any loose guards. Tetra stays with Remi to watch his back. Artemis and I will slip in while this all happens. Once we make contact with Benny, we'll isolate him, grab the info we need, and then escape. We can use the sewers as an escape route. @Tetra can you ask your family for a vehicle?"
"Absolutely," Tetra sends a thumbs up. "I'll ask them right now. What do we need? And should I say two days from now?"
"Yes, two days from now. We'll use a boat, stationed in the sewers as a means to escape. It's quieter, off-grid, and they won't see us coming or going. Thank you."
I wince, glancing at one specific sentence Mister sent. "Am I still gonna have to seduce him?"
Mister doesn't respond right away. "Considering the change in circumstances… I believe things will be easier now. You don't need to seduce him, just get him to talk. And if you can't, I'm confident the rest of us can handle it together."
Remi slides in with his own comment. "Heh, good. Pre' sure that Artemis is rizzless."
My eye twitches. I shoot him a death glare.
He doesn't even try to hide it—his laugh echoes across the entire beach.
Tetra glances between us, puzzled. "Wait… what does 'rizzless' mean?"
I furiously type into the group chat. "OKAY FINE. I CAN seduce him. For the record, I just HATE doing it with creeps."
I pocket my phone and march over to Remi. The wind kicks up, salty air snapping at my collar.
Noticing the look on my face, Remi backs away with his hands raised. "AYO! My bad, choom!" He's still laughing as he retreats. "Guess I ragebaited too hard, huh?"
My lips twitch into a smile, half-annoyed, half-amused. My eye still won't stop twitching. "You're incredibly lucky no one's shot you yet. You know that, right?"
"Yes ma'am." He throws a mock salute, grinning. "I'm just a nonchalant guy flirtin' with the odds twenty-four-seven."
I roll my eyes, waving him off, stifling a laugh. "Okay, okay. Whatever, tough guy."
In the distance, I hear the low rumble of a truck pulling up near the street. Ah. Right on time. "Guess we better head back," I say, glancing at the others. "I'll drop you both off. C'mon."
Tetra—who's been silent this whole time—chuckles. "Yeah. Let's get moving. At least we've got a path now."
The wind whistles off the water.
"Yeah… now I just gotta figure out what I'm wearing," I mutter. "Damn."
Remi pats my shoulder. "Chooooom, don't even stress. You'll kill it."
I sigh, lightly tapping his hand in thanks. "Appreciate it."
We start walking east, away from the water and back through the park.