The cafe didn't serve real coffee.
No one did anymore, not unless you lived in the Citadel, where they ground beans grown in synthetic sunlight and sold lattes by the quarter-year. Here, in Zone 3, the best you could get was a bitter black nutrient slurry spiked with cognitive enhancers and marketed as "MorningFuel."
Kaia Tran drank hers in silence.
She sat in the back corner, hood up, visor off, letting her face breathe. Her hair—cropped short, dyed gunmetal gray—framed sharp eyes that scanned the entrance like a war-hardened machine. She wasn't expecting company. But she was always ready.
The contact was late.
Outside, a storm hovered over the city like a weight waiting to fall. Lightning flashed between the skeletal outlines of half-finished towers. Rain never reached the ground anymore. It was caught in the layers of static and smog.
Kaia tapped her comms node.
"SynChron, come in."
A burst of static.
Then a familiar voice answered: "You're exposed. Pull out."
Kaia exhaled slowly. "Why?"
"He's coming to you. Black market runner. Name's Elian Voss. He's carrying something."
She blinked. "A device?"
"Confirmed. Unregistered tech. Origin unknown. We think it's a key."
Kaia straightened.
For months, SynChron had been chasing whispers: rumors of a physical failsafe built by someone on the inside of ChronoCorp—a temporal key capable of bypassing lifespan encryption and accessing the Vault. No evidence had ever surfaced.
Until now.
"You sure he's not Regulator bait?"
"Positive. He burned half a year escaping a squad yesterday. This guy's running on fumes and fear. You'll know him when you see him. He limps."
Kaia sipped the last of her drink, set the cup down, and stood.
"Then I'll wait."
Elian didn't notice her at first.
He entered the cafe cautiously, shoulders hunched, rain-streaked coat wrapped around him like armor. His eyes swept the room once, twice, and landed on her—just long enough to tell her he knew.
Kaia gave him a nod. The unspoken code of the hunted.
He crossed the room and sat.
"You don't look like a broker," he said.
"You don't look like someone worth three years," she replied evenly.
They stared at each other a beat longer than necessary.
Then Kaia leaned forward. "The thing in your coat. Where'd you get it?"
"Guy gave it to me. Died ten seconds later."
"He tell you what it does?"
"Said it's a key. Something about the Vault. You believe that?"
Kaia's mouth tightened. "I used to be a Regulator. I've seen too many people vanish without a countdown. I don't believe in myths."
She tapped her wrist. Her display lit up. 20.7 YRS.
"Every second I have was stolen from people like you."
He didn't flinch. "At least you admit it."
"I'm trying to give it back."
Elian paused, then pulled the device from his coat. He placed it on the table like a weapon. Kaia stared at it.
It was smaller than she expected. Sleek. Almost delicate.
And it pulsed—blue light threading through a core that didn't belong in this century.
Kaia reached out, but as her fingers neared it, the device pulsed red.
ACCESS DENIED.
It burned cold.
She recoiled.
"It's keyed to you," she said.
"Why me?"
"I don't know. But that's not just tech. That's a challenge."
Elian leaned closer. "To do what?"
Kaia's eyes hardened.
"To go where no one's come back from."
Outside, the storm broke.
Inside, something far more dangerous had just begun.