The chase was a chaotic blur through the city's concrete canyons. The man with the briefcase was fast, his movements desperate and erratic, using the panicked crowds as a shield. Nox followed, a silent, relentless predator, the city's noise fading into a dull roar as his old instincts took over completely.
'He's not just a man,' Nox thought, his perception, long dormant, sharpening to a razor's edge. 'He's a player. Low-level. And he's terrified.'
He could feel the corrupted System-core in the briefcase, a pulsing beacon of wrongness in the mundane reality of his world. It was a cancer. A piece of a dead story that had washed up on the shores of this new one.
The man ducked into a dark, narrow alley, a dead end. He spun around, his back against a brick wall, holding the briefcase in front of him like a shield. His face was a mask of pure terror.
"Stay back!" he screamed, his voice cracking. "I don't know who you are, but I know what you are! I can feel it!"
