MAPLE VALLEY, PRE-DAWN
A pale blue haze lies over Maple Valley like a half-awake dream.
The city breathes differently at this hour:
Cargo trams rumble across elevated tracks
Fog curls through the narrow canal streets
Vendors begin lighting up early-morning stalls
Automated street sweepers glide past rain-soaked sidewalks
And above it all stands the skyline — tall, cold, industrial — glowing in muted neon.
Jaxon Steel walks briskly through a pedestrian overpass, coat flapping behind him, moving with unpolished energy.
He hasn't slept much.
He never does when something doesn't add up.
There's a bounce in his step — quirky, restless — the same stubborn spark that makes him both lovable and infuriating at INN briefings.
But today, beneath that spark, something steadier simmers:
Determination. Resolve. Focus.
---
THE FORENSIC DRONE ARRIVAL
Steel reaches the alley from last night.
The site is quiet.
Empty.
But something feels watched, like Maple Valley itself is holding its breath.
A small winged forensic drone arrives overhead, humming and blinking.
[Agent Steel]:Right on time.
He kneels and slides the serpent-pattern shard into the drone's sample tray.
[Agent Steel]:Romer, your tiny buzz-bee is here.
[ROMER] (comm.) :It's a precision-grade micro-forensic drone, Steel. Respect the equipment.
[Agent Steel]:Sure. Buzz-bee. Got it.
Romer sighs audibly.
The drone closes its tray and floats away with surgical precision, its lights vanishing into the Maple Valley fog.
Steel leans against a cold brick wall, scanning the street.
The city feels alive in its own gritty rhythm:
Trams clattering overhead
Workers starting early shifts at industrial mills
A row of old brick apartments casting long morning shadows
Steam rising from sewer vents like ghost trails
Old Harbor's cranes groaning in the distance
Maple Valley isn't glamorous.
It's raw.
Gritty.
Full of scars and secrets.
Just like the case he's now entangled in.
His phone vibrates.
Steel straightens automatically — Out of something gentler. Something human.
He answers.
STEEL[Agent Steel]:Hey, Doc.
[Dr. Susan Thomas]: (warm, concerned)
Jaxon, Romer told me you were heading back to the crime site. Are you okay? You sound… tired.
Steel smirks.
[Dr. Agent Steel]:I call this my 'professional charm.' Exhaustion is part of the package.
She chuckles softly — genuine, friendly.
[Dr. Susan Thomas]:Well, your charm needs caffeine. And probably therapy. But first things first: did you find anything?
Steel looks at the alley again.
[Agent Steel ]:Found a cybernetic friend who wasn't big on conversation. Then he exploded.
[Dr. Susan Thomas] ( shocked):What?! Jaxon— are you hurt?
[Agent Steel]:Nah. Explosion and I have an understanding. I usually walk out of it.
She sighs — half relief, half frustration.
[Dr. Susan Thomas]:You're impossible.
[Dr. Susan Thomas]:Thank you. I work hard at it.
There's a brief, warm silence.
[Dr. Susan Thomas]:Be careful, Jaxon. I… I mean it.
Steel doesn't answer instantly.
His face softens — but only for a moment.
[Agent Steel]:I will. And hey — if Romer gets any early data, loop me in.
[Dr. Susan Thomas]:Already on it.
She hangs up.
Steel stares at the phone for a moment with a smile
Steel walks deeper into the alley, scanning the ground.
A glint catches his eye behind a broken crate.
He crouches—
There's a small metallic disk, smooth, barely the size of a coin.
He picks it up.
It has micro-etchings, faint circuits, and a tiny power cell inside — dormant but intact.
[Dr. Susan Thomas]:Hello, little mystery.
He pockets it.
---
MAPLE VALLEY SKYWAY
Steel exits the alley and steps onto a skyway bridge overlooking the industrial district,
showing the city beneath him:
Smoking factories
Neon billboards flickering warnings
Police drones patrolling above
Night-shift workers heading home
Early-shift workers rushing in
A city caught between exhaustion and ambition.
Steel speaks into his earpiece.
[Agent Steel]:Romer, I've got a second artifact. High-density micro-tech. Doesn't match X2. Might belong to someone else.
[ROMER ](comm.):Send me a photo.
Steel snaps one.
Romer goes silent for several seconds.
Then—
[ROMER] (comm.) :( shaken) Steel… that's manufactured with… zero trace elements.
Steel frowns.
[Agent Steel]: Meaning?
[ROMER]:Meaning… whoever made it didn't want it to exist.
Steel's jaw tightens.
[Agent Steel]:Well… now it does.
---
From a shadowed rooftop across the skyway…
A tiny serpent-shaped surveillance drone silently retracts its lens.
It lifts into the fog — invisible against the dawn.
Watching.
Learning.
Reporting.
TO BE CONTINUED.....
..................