April 24, 2021. 03:21. Burnaby. 6 days left till Italy.
What a bitch.
Shock tapped her fingers against her desk, the rhythm echoing faintly under the glow of her LED strips. Purple-blue light pulsed along the wall, casting her room in moody ambience. Tetra was already out cold in the next room—snoring faintly, sprawled like he didn't have a care in the world.
Shock wasn't sleeping. Couldn't.
She leaned back in her chair, chewing her lip as her mind replayed the night.
Azure. Jenny. Autumn Blade.
Her mask slipped in the silence. The bubbly "yaaas queen, slayyy" routine was never her real self—it was bait. Charm, ditzy energy, relentless pop-girl cheer… all designed to make people underestimate her.
And she wielded it like a weapon.
Endearing. Approachable. Disarming.
By the time anyone realised how sharp she actually was, it was already too late.
And right now, she wasn't laughing.
Her eyes drifted toward the kitchen door, listening faintly to Tetra's breathing. Good guy. Too good for this world sometimes. Naive as hell, but genuine. She was grateful that he did the groceries, kept things clean, and didn't pry. He was one of the few she didn't mind sharing space with.
Remi? Funny, brash, reckless. A headache, but an entertaining one.
Artemis? Dangerous. That one had layers, all walls and sharp edges. The type Shock's family would love to get their hands on—but for now, she was content just poking at Artemis for fun, waiting for her to crack.
Mister? Too professional, too connected. Definitely someone to keep an eye on—especially in Italy.
Michelangelo? A red flag. Azure wasn't wrong about him. One day, Arasaka would turn him loose against them, and it'd be bloody. And Ingrid? Same deal—corp problem wrapped in a pretty package.
Shock sighed, shaking her head. "Business as usual," Michelangelo had said. She almost laughed. Of course it was. She wasn't stupid. That's why she'd made copies of Elias' virus. Plenty of them. Sooner or later, they'd be worth something—to her, to her family, or maybe even to the highest bidder.
Her smirk faltered. Azure's face flashed in her mind—pale, trembling, broken down to pieces just from seeing Jenny.
Shock sneered. Pathetic. All sarcasm and tough talk until the real monster walked in, then she crumbled. What pissed her off most wasn't the fear. It was how everyone coddled her. Tetra hovering. Artemis stepping in. Everyone tiptoeing like Azure was some baby.
Her jaw tightened. Memories bubbled up, unbidden—teens laughing, shoving her around, mocking the girl with dyed hair, cheap implants, and a "stupid last name." She crushed the memory down, hard. Azure got sympathy. All Shock ever got were laughs.
"Some things never change," she muttered bitterly.
Just then, her phone buzzed, the vibration cutting through her thoughts like a blade. Dante's name lit up the screen.
"How's it going on your end?"
Shock unlocked her phone and thumbed a reply. "Party's preparing for the flight to Italy. But half of us are tangled in a drug bust. I'm doing a favour on the side—something that circles back to you and the railgun.
She hesitated for only a second before adding the part that mattered.
"Remember Autumn Blade? Yeah, we confirmed that Jenny is one of them and is tailing us. Azure admitted it while having a breakdown. It's affecting her badly. Not sure if Jenny is following us because of Azure… or all of us. Railgun's the link for sure though.
Dante's reply came quickly.
"Then cut her loose. If Azure's dead weight, don't hesitate."
Shock exhaled through her nose, smirking faintly. Typical Dante—no sugarcoating.
"Relax. No harm in playing along for now. Extra hands help. I can keep her steady enough to be useful."
She paused, pondering if she should ask a question that's been on her mind for some time. She shrugged, giving in to the idea. Whatever.
"How were we even pulled together? Wissen's got connections, but is it really that much?"
She tossed her phone onto the desk, tapping her nails until Dante texted again.
"He does. He's got connections on connections. No one even truly knows how wide his empire goes. And this isn't even him in his prime. I still don't know how he met the others, but one thing's clear—you don't trifle with him."
"I see. How far back do you go with him anyways?"
"I've known him for many years. He was once a trusted consigliere to our old godfather."
"He's no longer one?"
"He prefers to be neutral, playing at levels we still don't fully see."
"Hm… noted. Another thing too—Artemis. She's the one to watch."
"Is she a problem?"
"Not at all. She's dangerous—even without implants. I've seen it up close. Girl's terrifying."
"Are you suggesting we recruit her?"
"No, not necessarily. I just think she'd be a good ally to have, or at least a good hire. Just… don't do anything yet. She doesn't trust easily. Let me work with her. If anyone cracks her open, it'll be me."
The dots blinked, then Dante's final message came through.
"Understood. Take your time. I'll wait. Good work, by the way. Get some rest."
Shock smirked, softer this time, typing a final reply.
"Night, bro. Don't burn out."
Setting the phone aside, Shock rolled her neck until a satisfying crack broke the silence. The mask would be back on by morning—but tonight, she let the bitterness linger.
"Alright. One hour. Let's see what I can pull up," she muttered while sliding into her battlestation.
The chair gave a faint squeak as Shock plugged the thick black cable from her cyberdeck into the main tower. A soft click followed, implants syncing in an instant. Her nails pulsed violet, casting a dim glow across the desk as lines of system text began scrolling into view.
[HUD Booting…]
Shock_OS v13.7
Welcome back, user.
A digital butler shimmered into being in her AR overlay, bowing low. AWE. Her own self-coded assistant.
"Good evening, Miss. What shall I load for you tonight?"
Shock's lips pressed flat. No grin at all. "Spin diagnostics. I want scripts live. Everything."
"A pleasure."
Holo-screens erupted across her vision—cascades of green code, resource meters spiking, network topologies glowing like constellations. CPU loads, packet sniffers, intrusion modules—all humming awake. It was always a satisfying sight. In fact, half the tools running were her own creations: custom-coded scripts, self-built programs fine-tuned to cut where off-the-shelf hacks couldn't.
Shock flexed her fingers, every keystroke mirrored by glowing trails across her AR overlay.
$ nmap -sn 10.0.0.0/12
$ ifconfig sniff0 up
$ python3 cam_scraper.py --all
Processes stacked fast: route-injection scripts, packet streams flagging auth tokens, exploit payloads slipping into outdated CCTV firmware. Within moments, multi-cam grids spun above her desk—side streets, shopfronts, parking lots. A jagged patchwork of Vancouver's underbelly.
"Alright, Jenny Rodriguez…" she muttered. "Let's see if you're sloppy enough to leave a trail."
AWE tilted his head. "Would you like me to include social chatter?"
"Yeah. Run all mentions. 'Jenny Rodriguez', 'VPD', and 'Detective'. Timeframe: last two weeks. Pull from social feeds, local forums, Reddit threads, even the darknet boards."
"Affirmative."
Another panel bloomed open, feeds streaming in rapid bursts. Hashtags. Blurry snaps. Neighbourhood gossip. Comments from local news sites. Noise.
Shock pursed her lips. Too clean. Something was missing.
"Actually, AWE, expand the sweep. Add 'Railgun' and 'Autumn Blade'. Flag anything that cross-links—especially if it's tied to Vancouver or Lower Mainland chatter."
"As you wish. Query expansion in progress."
Satisfied with the net widening, Shock dove deeper, running her usual playbook—the same tricks she'd used to track Elias. Packet tracing across district relays. Bouncing off spoofed endpoints. Forcing access into archived CCTV logs where surface-level feeds failed. Every exploit she knew, stacked on top of one another in a slow grind.
But unlike Elias, there was no crack to slip through.
With Elias, she'd found gaps—latency in district handshakes, mismatched archive logs, weak encryption on older cameras. He skirted the edges of the system but left footprints. Jenny didn't.
Here? Downtown Vancouver was tight. Police-grade mesh networks combined with reinforced corporate backbones made things incredibly annoying. Each feed Shock tried to push into carried active packet shaping and watchdog daemons throttling suspicious queries. Latency went critical past the first subnet. Authentication rerouted constantly, chasing her down mid-scan.
And when she finally punched through into archived feeds, Jenny's trail evaporated. Every camera that should've caught her had already been scrubbed—clean timestamps, overwritten cache data, checksum-perfect.
Shock bit her lip. This isn't just skirting through systems. This is mastery. Elias had been careless. Jenny knew exactly what to cover. And worse—she was allowing Shock just enough to see the blank space. The void itself was the breadcrumb.
Her jaw clenched. The same frustration that had gutted her in Surrey—when she couldn't keep up with V—spiked hard in her chest. She wasn't falling behind because of skill. It was the gear. Outdated hardware dragging her down, throttling her edge. She needed a full overhaul. And Italy couldn't come soon enough.
"Miss." AWE's voice cut across the storm of data. "I've located a registered digital presence: Vancouver Police Department employment listing for Detective Jenny Rodriguez. The account appears legitimate."
"Yeah, no shit." Shock leaned in, eyes narrowing. "What else?"
She clicked through the blandest page she'd ever seen.
Jenny Rodriguez–Detective, Vancouver Police Department.
A clean little cyber-résumé, nothing more. Employment history scrubbed neat, generic endorsements from nobodies, a single profile picture with her glasses reflecting office light.
"Wow. So inspiring," Shock muttered under her breath. "The most cookie-cutter VPD LinkedIn page I've ever seen. Girl really said, 'I'm boring, please ignore me.'"
AWE continued smoothly. "Also, attached is a secondary profile. I've cross-linked through metadata tags, file hashes, and shared recovery emails. The alias is _Ashen_Parabellum. It's used primarily for photography."
A new panel unfolded—stark, curated, almost theatrical in tone.
Grainy mountain ranges framed in winter light. Lonely piers swallowed in fog. Empty playgrounds in the rain. A single crow caught mid-flight against the orange glow of a burning skyline. Old war relics photographed like portraits. Street murals peeling under neon haze. Each photo was sharp, deliberate, and hauntingly beautiful in its own way—too artistic, too diverse to be a coincidence.
Shock leaned back, nails drumming against the desk as she scrolled further. "Cute. Real subtle. Poetry hour for psychos." Each photo irritated her more—scenic, curated, polished to perfection. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Until she froze at the latest upload. Her smirk faded, replaced with a contemplative frown.
A blurred skyline of Vancouver, its high-rises dissolving into fog. In the foreground, a crimson maple leaf rests on the hood of a police cruiser, veins slick with rain and neon bleed. In the windshield's reflection, a lone surveillance drone hovers—its red eye glowing faint against the mist.
Attached to the post, there's a caption: "In the midst of winter, I found within me an invincible summer. #Parabellum #VancouverNights #WatchTheSeasons".
Shock stares at it, her lips curling. Is this art—or is she taunting us?
She pushed those thoughts aside and dug deeper—only to find nothing. No raw location data. Metadata stripped cleaner than corpo training manuals. IP traces bounced back into multiple secure nets, or worse, into air-gapped shadows Shock didn't even have routes for.
She unleashed her full toolkit—every trick in her arsenal.
Routing through spoofed district relays. Brute-forcing stale CCTV archives with crawler scripts. ARP spoofing to fake device presence on city cams. Even scraping darknet chatter with "Parabellum" flagged as a keyword.
Every trace Shock chased collapsed into polished dead-ends, like someone had pruned the net just to toy with her. "Damn it." She pinched her nose, groaning. "Elias was careful. But Jenny's… untouchable."
At least with Elias, brute force and patience had cracked him open. But with Jenny? She was only seeing what Jenny let her see. That thought annoyed her more than anything else.
Her foot tapped fast against the chair's base as she finally killed the live feeds. "Not tonight. Not with this gear. She's baiting me, and I don't even have the tech to bite back."
She exhaled sharply, then straightened and spoke to the AR butler still floating at her side. "AWE—keep background scans running. Prioritise darknet chatter, cached CCTV cross-refs, and keyword alert triggers. Pipe in: Rodriguez, Parabellum, Autumn Blade, Tanwir, Arasaka. Don't stop until I say."
AWE bowed. "Understood, Miss. Continuous passive sweep initiated." System graphs ticked downward as Shock throttled power to background daemons.
"Good. Handle it while I crash. If anything pings—wake me."
The butler inclined its head. "Of course."
Shock shoved away from the desk, LEDs flickering low as her implants disconnected with a faint hiss. She slumped toward her bed, jaw tight.
Jenny was going to be too painful to track. Not impossible—Shock never admitted impossible. But tonight? With her rig, her resources, her time? That's not gonna happen.
She flopped onto her mattress, muttering to the ceiling. "I could really use a break…"