April 30, 2021. 04:02.
The jet cruised steadily through the night, wrapped in clouds and engine hum like a low, endless melody.
But inside, it couldn't have looked any less professional.
Shock and Tetra had turned the fold-out table into a snack fortress: ramen cups, half-emptied mini bottles, crumbs everywhere.
Remi sat cross-legged on the couch opposite them, controller in hand, mashing buttons on some ancient fighting game projected on the cabin screen. Every combo came with his own sound effects.
He was half-tempted to kick on the Sandevistan right then and there, just to score anything—but the ripperdocs had told him to "chill out" for at least a few days.
Something about synaptic desync and overclock strain—how too much acceleration too soon could fry his nerves before his body fully recalibrated.
Even Remi, as reckless as he was, wasn't about to risk turning his nervous system into soup right after installation.
"Bro, I swear this AI's cheating," he muttered, flicking the stick in resignation.
Shock didn't even look up from the chips she was demolishing. "Girl, I think you just suck."
"Nuh-uh, this is high-level esports energy."
Tetra chuckled, glancing at the screen. "If that's true, maybe don't enter any tournaments."
"HEY! The hell, man—" Remi barked, half-laughing.
But his focus drifted, eyes flicking towards Artemis sitting on her own again.
Choom keeps slipping away like that. Dawg, why? Come chill with us. The fuck?
She sat a few seats back, legs crossed, gaze half-fixed on the clouds sliding past the window. She'd laughed earlier, even joined a toast—but now her focus had drifted somewhere else entirely.
What's she thinking about?
Her fingers tapped lightly against her thigh, a rhythm too sharp for someone trying to unwind.
Setting the controller down, Remi sauntered over, grinning. "Yo, Artemis. You tryna ghost the vibe again?"
She blinked, pulling herself out of thought. "What?"
Shock jumped in immediately, mock outrage in her tone. "Yeah, bestie, you ate like one chip. That's illegal. Snack law violation."
Tetra chuckled softly. "She's fine. Let her breathe."
"She can breathe later," Remi said, waving him off. "C'mon, you'll make us look bad. This might be the last chill moment before we're dodgin' bullets again."
Artemis exhaled through her nose, lips twitching. "You're all impossible."
"Impossible, but with amazingggg taste~!" Shock declared, sliding a small tin toward her. "Try these—imported truffle chips. Rich-people flavour."
Remi clasped his hands dramatically. "Pleaseeee, choom. Do it for morale."
Tetra leaned in with a knowing grin. "You could just let them win. They'll stop faster."
Artemis eyed the three of them before finally plucking a chip. "Fine."
Shock gasped. "Victory!"
"Yes!" Remi whooped, fist-pumping. "That's what I'm talkin' about! Preem-ass baby steps!"
Artemis rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her laugh. For a second, the tension in her shoulders eased.
Tetra leaned back, satisfied. "See? World peace achieved."
The hum of the engines continued to fill the lull.
Outside, dawn began to creep in—faint streaks of orange bleeding through thinning clouds.
Night gave way to silver light, soft and slow. The noise of laughter faded into something gentler.
Soon enough, the cabin mellowed.
Shock leaned against the window, tugging her blanket tighter. "Okay, besties, I'm clocking out—beauty sleep time."
Tetra chuckled, jacket pulled over his face. "You do that. I'll try sneaking in one more chapter before I crash."
Artemis stayed quiet, staring past the clouds like she could see something beyond them—lost in thought, but more at peace than she'd been earlier.
Remi stretched, cracking his knuckles. "Aight," he muttered, "time to piss off the serious people."
He walked down the narrow aisle, the amber lights low and the air shifting cooler the closer he got.
Dante, Mister, and Wissen sat around a small table, voices low and precise.
"…the safehouse's in San Donato," Dante was saying, tone smooth. "Off-grid from Camorra surveillance. My men cleared it twice already."
Mister leaned back slightly. "What about local security?"
"None. Not unless someone's stupid enough to look for me in my own backyard."
Wissen nodded, scrolling through his tablet. "We'll rotate guards every eight hours. Extraction's immediate if anything goes wrong."
Remi paused, hand resting on a seat-back. He hesitated. Was this a good idea?Interrupting fixers like this usually wasn't a good idea. Then he decided to make his move. Screw it.
"Uh, yo," he said, leaning halfway in. "Sorry to interrupt your mafia TED Talk, but can I ask a quick thing before y'all go full black-ops again?"
Three heads turned in unison. Even Wissen blinked.
"…Go ahead," Dante said slowly.
Remi grinned. "So, I was thinkin' about the bike replacement… can I get a Ducati?"
Silence.
Oh shit. Did I piss them off?
Dante arched a brow. "Which one?"
"Ducati Monster 821," Remi said without missing a beat. "Been dreamin' of one for years."
Wissen's mouth curved faintly. "Colour me surprised. I expected you to ask for a Lamborghini before a landing permit."
"Nah." Remi rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn't want a supercar or nothin' crazy. Just somethin' mobile that still looks clean, y'know?"
Dante chuckled under his breath. "Pratico ma bello. Practical and flashy. I can respect that."
Wissen tilted his head toward him. "Can you arrange it, or shall I?"
"I'll handle it," Dante said easily. "By the time we land, it'll be ready. Red or black?"
Remi blinked, like he hadn't expected a yes that fast. "Uh—black. Gotta match the fit."
FUCK YES. MASSIVE W, BABY!
Mister's helmet tilted slightly. "Try not to crash it."
"No promises," Remi shot back, grinning.
Wissen closed the tablet with a soft click and the faintest smirk.
"Then it's settled. You'll have your bike waiting. Now go sit before you talk us into more expenses."
Remi saluted. "Aye-aye, boss man."
Still grinning, he backed away, heading to the other side of the plane. Behind him, the discussion resumed—as if he'd never interrupted.
New city, new drip, new huzz, new whip—man's up now.
By the time he came back, the cabin was somehow even messier without him doing a thing. Shock had claimed half the snacks for herself, stacking them into a careless pile that made the flight staff twitch, then curled under a blanket like a smug cat.
Nearby, Tetra had dozed off mid-page, a book half-open on his lap, head tilted against the seat.
Artemis, on the other hand, was still awake. Her gaze drifted between the two of them and the clouds outside.
She caught Remi's eye and gave a faint smile.
Not wanting to break the calm, he flopped back into his seat, arms stretching wide before sinking down.
The hum of the engines and the cabin's gentle warmth lulled him fast.
He got his fun—now it was power-nap time.
Remi smirked faintly, half amused, half content. "Wake me up when we hit paradise," he mumbled. "G'night."
"Sure thing, superstar," Artemis murmured back. "Sweet dreams."
Sleep claimed him quick.