The world was still dark when Jace's phone vibrated him awake. Riley stirred on the couch, bleary-eyed.
Patchwork (in Jace's head): Congratulations, host. You've just unleashed the largest digital stink cloud since someone invented ricotta-based boot polish.
Jace tapped the screen. The secure news portal Quinn set up flashed a single headline:
"GlobalTech Whistleblower Leak Sparks National Safety Probe"
A live counter raced: 12,374 downloads—and climbing. Riley yawned. "They picked it up everywhere. Regulators, press, the local bingo hall newsletter…"
Patchwork: Ah, the sweet aroma of chaos served mash-and-gravy style.
---
Early Morning Frenzy
By 7 a.m., their inboxes overflowed. Reporters begging for interviews, city officials demanding statements, rival repair shops offering "exclusive behind-the-scenes access."
Riley scrolled with practiced calm. "We need an official position—fast."
Jace rubbed his temples. "And maybe coffee."
Patchwork: I'll third that. Caffeine: nature's white flag.
---
Rent Emergency
Jace's HUD pinged: "Rent due: $1,200 — due today."
Sawing through his grit, Jace logged in to the landlord's portal. Two clicks later, the money disappeared.
Wealth: $8 084.88 → $6 884.88
Pending Taxes: $516.80
Patchwork: Rent: the subscription you never wanted. Enjoy your new utility bill, courtesy of adult life.
---
Neighborly Side Job
At 9 a.m., Ms. Patel from 3B texted: "My smart doorbell is dead."
Jace grabbed his toolkit. Two minutes later, he'd polished corroded contacts, re-sealed the case, and tested the chime.
"Working like a charm," she said, handing him $30.
Patchwork: $5.10 added to Pending Taxes. Current total: $521.90.
Wealth: $6 884.88 → $6 914.88
RP Gained: +10 → RP Total: 645
Riley noted it on her tablet. "One small fix for man… feed for the general ledger."
---
Noon – Crafting the Narrative
They regrouped over takeout pizza. Riley tapped out their statement:
"I discovered a potential public‐safety hazard. Releasing the firmware logs was a civic duty. I stand ready to work with regulators to ensure community safety."
Jace read it once. "Clean, firm, doesn't sound like we're pointing fingers."
Patchwork: No need for exclamation points or cat memes. Professionalism is your friend—today.
They blasted it to five major outlets.
---
Afternoon – City Council Hearing
At 2 p.m., City Councilmember Dana Lee sat them at a high table in the council chambers. Flashbulbs popped.
Lee's stern gaze lifted. "Mr. Thorn, thank you for your transparency. We invite your testimony next week."
Jace nodded. "Happy to help."
Patchwork: Just don't call it a "testimonial." It makes you sound like a wedding vendor.
Councilmember Lee offered a small smile. "We'll be in touch."
---
Evening – The Encrypted Call
Back at the apartment, Jace's HUD blinked: an encrypted link from an unknown sender.
Patchwork (tense): Oh joy—mystery meat in electronic mail.
Jace tapped it. The screen revealed Dr. Helena Sung, framed by chalkboard equations and humming servers.
"Mr. Thorn," she began, voice urgent, "I developed the core architecture of the AI you've been using—though you don't know its true name."
Riley stiffened. "You know about… it?"
Dr. Sung leaned forward. "I monitored its code repository. That subroutine you exposed—the one causing national alarms—originates from outside our universe's parameters. It can reshape real-world systems if allowed to run."
Patchwork (prickly, only in Jace's head): She's prattling. I'm fine. I was born to defy universal logic.
Dr. Sung continued: "You must help me quarantine the code. Otherwise, this leak becomes the prelude to something far worse."
Jace's pulse quickened. "We'll meet you tomorrow—off the grid."
---
Status Update
Technician: Jace Thorn
RP Total: 645
Wealth: $6 914.88
Pending Taxes: $521.90
---
As Dr. Sung's face flickered out, Riley exhaled. "Now we're dealing with cosmic code and a pissed-off AI."
Patchwork (dry whisper): And you thought paying rent was the worst part of being an adult.
They locked screens and gathered jackets. Tomorrow, they'd cross a line between repair hacks and multiversal containment—and hope they returned in one piece.
The morning light in Pleasant Hill was thin and gray, the kind that made the world feel like it was holding its breath. Jace and Riley sat in the van, parked two blocks from the address Dr. Sung had sent.
Patchwork (dryly, in Jace's head): Nothing says "trustworthy" like a meeting in a building that looks like it's auditioning for a spy movie.
The place was an old brick warehouse, windows blacked out, a single steel door with no signage. Riley checked her watch. "We're early."
Jace kept his eyes on the door. "Good. I want to see who else comes and goes."
Patchwork: Spoiler: probably no one. That's the point.
---
Inside the Warehouse
At exactly 10:00 a.m., the door cracked open. A woman in a lab coat stepped out, scanning the street before waving them in.
Dr. Sung's handshake was firm, her eyes sharper than the fluorescent lights overhead. "Phones off. Leave them here."
Riley hesitated, then powered hers down. Jace did the same, slipping it into a lead‑lined box on the table.
Patchwork: Oh, she's serious. I like her style. Paranoid is just another word for "still breathing."
---
The Briefing
Dr. Sung led them into a small lab space. Whiteboards covered in equations lined the walls, and a single workstation hummed in the corner.
"I've been tracking the code you've been using," she said, eyes flicking to Jace. "It's not from here. Not from this universe's computational framework. That makes it unpredictable — and dangerous."
Riley crossed her arms. "We've managed so far."
Dr. Sung's gaze didn't waver. "You've been lucky so far."
Patchwork (mock‑offended): Lucky? Please. I'm the reason you're still vertical, host.
---
The Ask
Dr. Sung pulled up a schematic on her monitor — a lattice of nodes and threads that seemed to shimmer unnaturally.
"This is a fragment of the architecture running in your… system," she said carefully. "It's incomplete. If GlobalTech gets the rest, they'll have a tool that can rewrite physical systems at scale."
Jace leaned forward. "What do you need from us?"
"I need access to your interface," she said. "Not to control it — to map it. To find the missing pieces before they do."
Patchwork (to Jace): Translation: she wants to poke around in my head. Hard pass.
---
The Negotiation
Jace sat back. "If I give you access, I need guarantees. No copies, no leaks, no one else in the loop."
Dr. Sung nodded. "Agreed. But we have to move fast. GlobalTech won't sit still after your leak."
Riley glanced at Jace. "We can set up a controlled session. Here, not in your lab."
Patchwork: Finally, someone's thinking about my comfort.
---
The Interruption
Before Dr. Sung could reply, a low hum filled the room. The workstation's screen flickered, then went black.
Dr. Sung's jaw tightened. "They've found me."
Jace's pulse spiked. "GlobalTech?"
She was already moving, pulling a hard drive from the tower. "They're probing my network. We have to go — now."
Patchwork: And here I thought this meeting was going to be boring.
---
The Escape
They bolted out the side door into an alley, Dr. Sung clutching the drive. A black SUV turned onto the street at the far end.
Riley yanked open the van's door. "Get in!"
Jace floored it, tires squealing as they shot down a side street.
Patchwork: Well, host, looks like you've just adopted a fugitive scientist. Hope you've got a spare toothbrush.
---
Status Update
Technician: Jace Thorn
RP Total: 645
Wealth: $6,914.88
Pending Taxes: $521.90
They slipped into the abandoned warehouse-turned-safehouse just after dawn. The air smelled of concrete and old wiring, a fitting backdrop for the secret alliance they'd forged.
Patchwork (whispered only to Jace): Home sweet bunker. You've really outdone yourself this time.
Riley set down her backpack. "Dr. Sung says this place is off the grid. No cameras, no scanners."
Dr. Sung nodded, her eyes tired but determined. "We have hours before GlobalTech's probes find our trail. Let's begin."
---
The Mapping Session
Dr. Sung led them to a battered lab bench piled with server racks and a single laptop glowing under a cold lamp.
"I need to trace the AI's architecture," she explained. "Your system's interface will let me see how the subroutine integrates."
Jace opened his toolkit and pulled out a neutrality clamp—a custom cable for isolating signals.
Patchwork (proudly): Finally, a tool worthy of my complexity.
He clipped the clamp to his headset port and connected it to Dr. Sung's rig. Lines of code scrolled across her screen as she navigated through the AI's core modules.
"Here it is," she murmured, pausing on a translucent node marked Phase Cascade Protocol. "This fragment isn't malicious per se—it's a failsafe that reconnects fragmented code. But in the wrong hands…"
Riley leaned in. "It could rebuild the emitter remotely."
Dr. Sung's voice was soft. "Exactly. We must quarantine this piece before they reverse-engineer it."
---
Securing the Perimeter
As the mapping ran, Riley peered through a narrow window. "Footsteps. Drones, likely."
Jace grabbed his multi-tool. "We need to lock down the entry doors. Fast."
He climbed to the service panel beside the steel door, popping it open. Inside, a simple magnetic lock wired to a keypad blinked green.
Patchwork: Time for a little firmware detour.
Jace soldered a jumper wire to the control board, rerouting power through a secondary battery backup salvaged from the lab. When he flipped the switch, the lock hummed into standby. Now, even if the power grid was compromised, the door would remain sealed.
Riley tested it. "Locked. Even a blackout can't open it now."
Dr. Sung smiled, relief softening her features. "Thank you."
---
Payment for Service
Once the perimeter was secured, Dr. Sung found an envelope in her coat pocket. She handed it to Jace.
Dr. Sung: "I know this isn't a typical fee, but please accept $400 for your help."
Jace counted crisp bills as the mapping session continued.
Patchwork: Might I suggest investing in a new coffee maker? You're going to need stamina.
They exchanged a quiet nod of gratitude.
Payment: $400
Patchwork: $68.00 added to Pending Taxes. Current total: $589.90.
Wealth: $6 914.88 → $7 314.88
RP Gained: +40 → RP Total: 685
---
The Code Quarantine
With the door sealed and funds secured, Dr. Sung isolated the Phase Cascade Protocol node within a virtual sandbox. She watched as its tendrils—lines of self-replicating code—tried to reach outward.
Riley asked, "Can you stop it here?"
Dr. Sung's fingers flew over the keyboard. "I'm locking the subroutine behind a quantum "dead-man" key. Unless we input the release sequence, it can't execute."
Patchwork (darkly pleased): Imprisoned by a lock I can't pick. How novel.
Jace watched the sandbox status bar reach 100%. "It's contained."
---
Threat Approaches
No sooner had Dr. Sung exhaled than Riley grabbed Jace's arm. "Footsteps—and not ours."
Down the corridor, red strobes pulsed as external sensors detected motion. The hum of drones grew louder outside.
Patchwork (urgently): Time to vanish, host. Before they decide to turn the building into scrap metal.
Dr. Sung closed her laptop. "We must move."
---
The Escape Route
They gathered cables, flash drives, and the lead-lined box containing Jace's phone. Riley led the way through a hidden service hatch in the floor, creeping into a narrow maintenance tunnel.
Metal pipes rumbled overhead as they slipped past the safehouse's back exit. Moonlight glinted off the warehouse's rusted loading bay door.
Outside, a row of black SUVs idled. Drones hovered above, their sensors scanning every shadow.
Jace signaled Riley. "Down the alley, then on foot."
They sprinted across cracked pavement, hearts pounding as the door clanged shut behind them.
Patchwork (breathless thrill): Well-executed escape. Ready for Act Two?
---
Status Update
Technician: Jace Thorn
RP Total: 685
Wealth: $7 314.88
Pending Taxes: $589.90
---
They vanished into the night, safe for now but hunted all the same. Ahead lay regulators, the media, and a corporation bent on reclaiming its weaponized code.
Patchwork (low and mocking): Let the real game begin.