The sunlight streamed through the city's haze, bright and warm—a beautiful day for most people. For me, it was anything but.
I arrived at Alex's workshop. Sparks crackled in the air, tools hummed, and the faint scent of solder burned in my nose. Alex, hunched over a half-assembled battle android, didn't notice me at first.
"Yo! Jane!" he greeted when he finally looked up, his trademark grin flashing. "What's up? Have a seat."
I sat down silently. He spun into his usual chair before his computer, the glow of a dozen holographic schematics dancing across his face.
"What can I do for y—" His words died. The grin faded. His eyes locked on the handgun I had leveled at his chest.
"You have something to tell me, Alex." My voice was cold. "What is Spectre?"
"Damn it, Jane…" He cursed under his breath, pushing back in his chair. "I told you to stay away from this. But no—you're too stubborn, too obsessed with your vendetta!"
"Talk," I snapped. My finger hovered dangerously close to the trigger.
He exhaled sharply, raising both hands. "Alright, alright. I'll talk."
"Spectre used to be the military's elite high-tech special forces."
"Used to be?" I pressed.
"Yeah. Not anymore. They went rogue—followed some insane ideology their leader cooked up. Now they're mercenaries, assassins, arms dealers. They steal bleeding-edge military tech, then sell it to fuel their organization."
"And your involvement?" My voice lowered into a growl.
Alex's eyes dropped. "I was almost one of them."
The words froze me. "…What?"
"Back when they were still under the Neoz Government's command, I applied, because they promised me a fortune. I passed every test—every exam. But I didn't make it through the final cut." His lips twisted bitterly. "I wasn't ruthless enough. Couldn't even bring myself to harm a human. Guess I was too soft. Too much of a wimp."
I stayed silent, letting the weight of his confession hang heavy in the air.
"I bet they're still running some of the combat programs and tech I designed back then," Alex added quietly.
"And the government? They just let you walk away?" I asked.
He gave a hollow chuckle. "Why chase me? They found another prodigy—a genius who could replace me without a second thought."
"After that, I started pretending," Alex continued. "Acting slow, sluggish, forgetful… I deliberately made mistakes and let that new genius correct me. Eventually, I hacked into a hospital database and fabricated a medical record—diagnosed myself with a gradual memory loss illness."
"So that's how you managed to walk away from the government," I said, narrowing my eyes.
"Yeah."
He shifted uncomfortably, then glanced at the barrel of my gun still aimed his way. "Can you put that thing away now, Jane?"
"Sure." I slid the handgun back into my handbag.
"Damn it, Jane!" His voice cracked with frustration, almost a shout. "You nearly killed me! Don't you ever point a gun at your friend again." He exhaled, long and heavy, like a weight had finally dropped from his chest.
"Sorry, Alex," I murmured, though my voice carried no emotion.
An awkward silence lingered in the workshop, broken only by the low hum of the android's power core on the workbench. Finally, Alex spoke again.
"You're still going after them, aren't you? You've seen firsthand how dangerous they are."
"If I have to, I will," I said, unwavering.
He gave a bitter chuckle. "Yeah… I figured you'd be stubborn like this."
Standing, Alex crossed to his storage locker. He rummaged around before returning with a pair of sleek gauntlets and a matte-black handgun. He laid them on the table before me.
"Here. Take these. The gauntlets are forged from a UHH steel alloy—layered with titanium and vanadium. They'll let you deflect armor-piercing rounds and even block a katana strike if you're fast enough."
My eyes widened slightly. "UHH alloy… that must've been hell to get your hands on."
"I've got my connections."
He picked up the handgun next, handling it with a craftsman's pride. "And this—an EMP sidearm. Specially designed for close-range combat. It fires the same EMP rounds the EMP sniper uses. I fixed the instability issue—it won't misfire now. You'll be able to find ammo at most high-end weapon shops."
I ran a finger over the weapon's polished grip. "Thanks, Alex. How much do I owe you?"
He waved dismissively. "You don't pay me anything, Jane. Just make sure we both stay alive."
His eyes flicked back to his console as his fingers danced across the holographic display. "Oh—and I'll send you an update for your combat program. Download it. Install it. Don't argue."
"Got it. Thanks, Alex."
"Good. Now excuse me, I've got a battle android to finish. Going to need a bodyguard if I'm going to survive Spectre… and my ungrateful cyborg friend pointing guns at me." He didn't look back, already focused on tightening bolts along the android's chassis.
I smirked faintly. "Haha. How about I buy you a drink later?"
"Make sure it's the most expensive whiskey you can find!" Alex shouted over his shoulder, sparks flying as he resumed welding.
I left the workshop, the weight of new weapons in my bag and Alex's words heavy in my mind. My steps carried me toward Mino Cybernetics—time to repair the damage my body had sustained before the next storm came.
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