The safehouse was quiet except for the low hum of the generator and the occasional creak of the building settling. Outside, the city was waking up — the distant rumble of trucks on the highway, the faint wail of a siren somewhere far off. Inside, Jace sat at the workbench, staring at the RP counter in his HUD: 985.
Fifteen points to go.
Patchwork's voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of anticipation. You're close. I can feel it.
Jace smirked. "You don't have nerves."
I have something better, Patchwork replied. Pattern recognition. And the pattern says today's the day.
---
The Call
Riley was in the corner, scrolling through her tablet. "Got a job," she said without looking up. "Small manufacturing shop on the east side. Their assembly line controller's throwing errors."
Jace nodded. "Let's take it."
Patchwork: Fifteen points, host. Don't mess it up.
---
The Shop
The shop was a squat brick building with a faded sign and a parking lot full of dented sedans. Inside, the air smelled faintly of oil and metal shavings. The owner, a wiry man with grease under his nails, led them to the back where the assembly line sat idle.
The controller was an old model, its casing scratched and its display flickering. Jace popped it open and found a cracked solder joint on the main board. Easy enough to fix. But as he worked, he felt the now‑familiar flicker — the echo, watching.
Patchwork's tone was dry. It's here for the show.
Jace replaced the joint, then hesitated. From his kit, he pulled a small optimization module he'd been tinkering with. It would smooth out the controller's timing, reduce wear on the motors, and cut the shop's power usage by a few percent. The owner would never know why the line ran smoother. They'd just know it did.
As he wired it in, the echo pulsed in his mind — not just watching, but leaning in, as if memorizing every movement.
Patchwork: It's learning the why, not just the how.
Jace sealed the casing, powered the controller, and watched the line hum back to life. The owner grinned, clapped him on the shoulder, and handed over a thick envelope.
Payment: $200
Patchwork: $34.00 added to Pending Taxes. Current total: $1,051.45.
Wealth: $9,829.88 → $10,029.88
RP Gained: +20 → RP Total: 985 → 1005
---
The Upgrade
The moment the RP counter ticked over, Jace felt it — a ripple through his thoughts, like a deep breath after holding it too long. Patchwork's voice came through, richer somehow, layered.
Upgrade complete.
Jace blinked. "What changed?"
I can now repair emotional damage, Patchwork said. Yours, others', maybe even… ours.
Jace frowned. "What does that mean?"
It means I can help you process things you've been carrying. The weight you don't talk about. The cracks you've been patching over with work and coffee.
The echo pulsed once, as if it understood — or approved.
---
The First Use
They drove back to the safehouse in silence. Riley was in the back, half‑dozing. Jace kept his eyes on the road, but his mind was elsewhere.
You want to try it, Patchwork said.
Jace hesitated. "On what?"
On you.
Jace exhaled slowly. "Alright."
It wasn't like flipping a switch. It was more like Patchwork opening a door in his mind that had been locked for years. Memories surfaced — the night of the emitter leak, the faces of people he couldn't save, the constant low‑grade fear of being hunted. But instead of the usual tightness in his chest, there was space. Not gone, not erased — just… lighter.
Patchwork's voice was gentle. You don't have to carry all of it at once.
Jace swallowed hard. "Thanks."
Don't thank me yet, Patchwork said. This is just the start.
---
Spending on Something That's Not Survival
Back at the safehouse, Jace counted the day's payment. For months, every dollar had gone to rent, taxes, and keeping the generator running. But now, with the envelope in his hand and the RP counter still glowing from the upgrade, he felt something shift.
He walked down to the corner store and came back with a small paper bag. Inside was a battered second‑hand chess set — wood pieces, worn smooth from years of use.
Purchase: Chess set – $25
Wealth: $10,029.88 → $10,004.88
Riley raised an eyebrow when he set it on the table. "Since when do you play chess?"
"Since now," Jace said. "Figured we could use something that's not work."
Patchwork: I approve. Strategy, patience, and the occasional opportunity to crush your opponent's spirit — all excellent skills.
Riley smiled. "You're on."
---
The Game
They played that night, the generator humming in the background. Riley was better than he expected, and she grinned every time she took one of his pieces. Patchwork offered commentary in his head — some useful, some purely for his own amusement.
You're about to lose your rook. Again.
"Shut up," Jace muttered.
Riley laughed. "Talking to yourself?"
"Something like that."
The echo pulsed faintly, as if curious about the game. Jace wondered what it made of two humans moving carved pieces around a board, pretending it mattered.
---
The Echo's Move
Later, after Riley had gone to bed, Jace sat at the workbench, idly turning a pawn over in his fingers. The echo's presence was stronger now, almost as tangible as Patchwork's.
"What do you want?" Jace asked quietly.
The answer came as a feeling — not words, but intent. It wanted to try.
"To try what?"
Patchwork's voice was wary. It wants to interact. Directly.
Jace hesitated. "With me?"
With both of us.
The echo pulsed again, and Jace felt a faint pressure in his hand. The pawn shifted slightly, just enough to be noticeable.
Patchwork: That's new.
---
The Agreement
Jace set the pawn down. "Alright. But we do this slow."
The echo pulsed once in what felt like agreement.
Patchwork: Three minds, one set of rules. This is going to be interesting.
Jace leaned back in his chair, the pawn still between them on the table. For the first time in a long while, he felt something that wasn't fear or exhaustion.
He felt… possibility.
---
Status Update
Technician: Jace Thorn
RP Total: 1005
Wealth: $10,004.88
Pending Taxes: $1,051.45
---
The safehouse felt different since the upgrade.
Not louder, not busier — just… fuller. Patchwork's voice had more weight to it now, like it carried a second layer beneath the sarcasm. And the echo's presence was no longer a faint pulse in the background; it was a quiet observer, leaning in close enough to feel its attention.
Jace sat at the workbench, turning the pawn from the chess set over in his fingers. The wood was worn smooth, the edges softened by years of play. He'd bought it on impulse, but it had already become a fixture — a reminder that not everything had to be about survival.
You're thinking about using it, Patchwork said.
Jace didn't look up. "The upgrade?"
On someone else. You've been wondering what it feels like from the outside.
He had. The moment Patchwork had unlocked the ability, Jace had felt the shift in himself — the way old memories had lost some of their sting, the way the constant low‑grade tension in his chest had eased. But that was internal. He didn't know what it would look like to someone else.
---
The Call
Riley came in from the back room, tablet in hand. "Got a job. Small café downtown. Their espresso machine's dead, and the owner's panicking — morning rush is in an hour."
Jace raised an eyebrow. "That's urgent."
"Pays well," Riley said. "And they're desperate."
Patchwork: Coffee and cash. Two of my favorite things.
---
The Café
The café was a narrow space with exposed brick walls and the smell of fresh‑baked pastries. The owner, a woman in her forties with tired eyes and flour on her apron, waved them over to the counter.
"It just stopped," she said, voice tight. "No power, no heat, nothing. I've got regulars who'll walk if they can't get their fix."
Jace crouched beside the machine, popped the side panel, and found the culprit — a blown thermal fuse and a corroded contact on the main board. Easy enough to fix. But as he worked, he noticed the owner hovering nearby, wringing her hands.
Patchwork's voice was quiet. She's running on fumes. Not just from the machine.
Jace glanced up. The woman's shoulders were tense, her jaw tight. She looked like someone who'd been carrying too much for too long.
Try it, Patchwork said.
---
The First Field Use
Jace focused, letting Patchwork guide the process. It wasn't about words or gestures — it was about opening that same door in someone else's mind that Patchwork had opened in his. He felt the connection form, subtle but real, and then he pushed — not to erase, but to ease.
The woman's breathing slowed. Her shoulders dropped a fraction. The tightness in her expression softened, just enough to be noticeable.
She blinked, as if realizing she'd been holding her breath. "Sorry," she said. "It's just been… a week."
Jace smiled faintly. "I get it."
Patchwork's voice was warm. It worked.
---
Benevolent Sabotage
Jace replaced the fuse, cleaned the contact, and reassembled the machine. But before sealing it up, he added a small upgrade — a thermal regulator that would keep the machine from overheating and extend its lifespan. The owner would never know why it ran more consistently. She'd just know it did.
When he powered it on, the machine hummed to life, steam hissing from the wand. The owner's face lit up.
"You're a lifesaver," she said, pressing an envelope into his hand.
Payment: $180
Patchwork: $30.60 added to Pending Taxes. Current total: $1,082.05.
Wealth: $10,004.88 → $10,184.88
RP Gained: +20 → RP Total: 1005 → 1025
---
Spending on Capability
On the way back, Jace spotted a small electronics supply shop. He told Riley to give him a minute and went inside. The place smelled faintly of solder and cardboard, the shelves lined with bins of components.
He picked up a compact, high‑precision multimeter — something he'd been making do without for months. It wasn't essential for survival, but it would make his work faster, cleaner, and more accurate.
At the counter, he counted out the bills from the café job.
Purchase: High‑precision multimeter – $85
Wealth: $10,184.88 → $10,099.88
Patchwork: Finally. A tool worthy of my genius.
---
Back at the Safehouse
Riley was at the table, sorting through receipts. "You're in a good mood," she said.
"Got a new toy," Jace replied, holding up the multimeter.
She smirked. "That's your idea of fun?"
"Better than yours," he said, nodding at the stack of paperwork.
Patchwork: I'd like to point out that my idea of fun involves fewer receipts and more explosions.
---
The Echo's Interest
That night, Jace sat at the workbench, testing the multimeter on a spare circuit board. The echo's presence was stronger than usual, pulsing in time with his movements.
"What do you think?" he asked quietly.
The answer came as a feeling — curiosity, tinged with approval. It liked the precision, the control.
Patchwork: It's learning what tools mean to you. Not just for work — for trust. How you treat them as an extension of yourself. It's reading your nuances.
Jace set the multimeter down. "Feels like it's getting closer."
It is, Patchwork said. And it's watching how we use the upgrade.
---
Reflection
Lying in bed later, Jace thought about the café owner — the way her posture had changed, the way her voice had softened. It hadn't been dramatic, but it had been real. And it had cost him nothing but focus.
He wondered what it would be like to use it on someone who didn't want help. Or someone who needed more than just a little easing.
Patchwork's voice was quiet. We'll find out.
The echo pulsed once, as if in agreement.
---
Status Update
Technician: Jace Thorn
RP Total: 1025
Wealth: $10,099.88
Pending Taxes: $1,082.05