The phone felt heavy in his hand.
It was cheap plastic, but it weighed more than a block of concrete.
It was ScrapHead's phone, a direct link to the grimy, violent world that was now hunting him.
Miles sat at his desk, at the front of his laptop.
His clone had dissolved back into him, the experience leaving a strange, buzzing echo in his mind.
He was whole again, but the memory of being in two places at once lingered.
It was a power that felt less like a skill and more like a tear in the fabric of reality.
"Okay, system," he said to the empty room, his voice a low whisper.
"Let's see what our loud, bearded friend was hiding."
[INITIATING DATA EXTRACTION FROM HOSTILE'S DEVICE,] the system replied, its text scrolling calmly across his vision.
[BYPASSING BIOMETRIC AND PASSWORD SECURITY… COMPLETE.]
That was fast.
He was pretty sure his own phone had better security than this guy's.
It just went to show that having skin that could turn into steel didn't make you a genius.
