The Setup
Riley set her phone down with a grim look. "Downtown civic plaza. Outdoor festival. They're reporting the stage power is unstable, the fountains are surging, and the food court refrigeration is failing. The event starts in four hours."
Jace zipped his kit. "Three systems, one location. They're not even pretending anymore."
Patchwork's voice cut in, sharp and mocking.
"Astounding deduction, detective. Next you'll tell me water is wet. Yes, it's sabotage. And this time, if you miss even one, people don't just get annoyed — they get hurt."
Riley crossed her arms. "They're daring you to fail in front of a crowd."
Jace nodded. "Then we don't fail."
---
On‑Site
The plaza was already alive with vendors setting up booths, kids darting between fountains, and staff stringing banners. The event coordinator waved them over, panic in her eyes.
"Stage power keeps spiking, the fountains are flooding, and half the food vendors say their coolers are dead. We can't open like this."
From the edge of the plaza, Jace spotted them: Daniel's people, leaning against a vendor cart, watching him openly.
Patchwork: "Smile, champ. You're about to juggle three sabotage jobs in front of an entire city. Try not to trip."
---
The Work
The stage power came first. The distribution box was a mess of mismatched fuses and oversized breakers — deliberate. Jace yanked them, replaced them with proper ones, and reset the system. The lights steadied, the amps stopped screaming.
The fountains were next. Pumps were choking, water spraying across the plaza. Jace opened the housing and pulled out sheets of plastic stuffed into the intakes. He flushed the system, reset the valves, and the fountains calmed.
Finally, the food court. Half the coolers were dead, compressors fried. Jace traced the wiring and found the supply line deliberately crossed, sending double voltage through the units. He rerouted the line, swapped a fried relay, and the compressors hummed back to life. Vendors cheered as their stock chilled again.
Patchwork: "Well done. You saved the city from the horror of warm soda and spoiled hot dogs. Truly heroic."
---
Suspicion
As the festival opened, music blared, fountains sparkled, and vendors served food from humming coolers. To the crowd, it was seamless. To Daniel's people, it was proof Jace could spot sabotage under maximum pressure.
One of them approached. "You fixed all that fast. Almost like you knew it wasn't random."
Jace met his eyes. "Because it wasn't. Someone wanted this to fail."
The man's smile was thin. "And you just happened to be here."
Riley stepped in smoothly. "That's why they called us. He notices things others miss."
The man studied her, then Jace, then walked away.
Patchwork: "You're not just fixing anymore. You're humiliating them. Keep this up and they'll stop testing you and start trying to break you."
---
Settlement
Payment: $1,800
Wealth: $42,284.88 → $44,084.88
Taxes: +$306.00 added to Pending (Total: $8,194.35)
RP Gained: +180 (multi‑system sabotage job, under live public scrutiny, potential harm prevented)
RP Total: 1,738 → 1,918
---
Back at the Workshop
Riley leaned against the bench, exhausted. "That wasn't just sabotage. That was a full‑scale attempt to collapse the event."
Jace nodded. "And they wanted to see if I'd catch it."
Patchwork's voice was sharp, sarcastic, and unrelenting.
"And you did. Bravo. You're at 1,918 RP now. Just shy of 2,000. One more job, and the upgrade unlocks. Then you'll stop guessing and start knowing. Until then, keep sweating. It's entertaining."
Jace smirked. "Then let's keep stacking."
The echo pulsed once — steady, ready.
---
Status Update
- RP Total: 1,918
- Wealth: $44,084.88
- Pending Taxes: $8,194.35
- Monthly Rent: Workshop – $1,200 | Apartment – $1,400
- Capabilities: Mechanical, Electronic, Emotional, Biological
- Next Upgrade (Locked): Temporal Diagnostics – Unlocks at 2,000 RP
- Taxes due: one month
---
Riley was sorting receipts at the workbench when she sighed. "It's the end of the month. Rent's due. Taxes too."
Jace rubbed his face. "How bad is it?"
"Workshop rent: $1,200. Apartment: $1,400. Taxes: $8,194.35." She slid the ledger across. "Total: $10,794.35."
Patchwork's voice cut in, smug and sharp.
"Oh, delightful. Nothing says progress like the crushing weight of bureaucracy. Pay up, meatbag."
Jace muttered, "We'll cover it. Barely."
---
On‑Site
The call came from a mid‑rise office building. "Elevator stuck, HVAC blowing hot air, and the security system keeps tripping alarms," the manager said. "We've got tenants threatening to walk out."
From the lobby, Jace spotted them: Daniel's people, leaning against the reception desk, watching him openly.
Patchwork: "Your fan club never misses a show. Try not to disappoint."
---
The Work
The elevator was jammed between floors. Jace opened the panel and found the brake assembly deliberately wedged with a bolt. He pried it free, reset the spring, and the car hummed back into motion.
The HVAC was next. The thermostat wiring had been crossed, forcing the system into constant heat mode. Jace rerouted the wires, reset the board, and cool air flowed again.
Finally, the security system. The sensors had been taped with reflective foil, tricking them into constant false alarms. Jace ripped it away, recalibrated the panel, and the alarms went silent.
Patchwork: "Three sabotage jobs in one. They're practically gift‑wrapping RP for you."
---
The Choice
As Jace packed up, Patchwork's voice shifted, oily with temptation.
"You're at 1,918 RP. This job nets you enough to cross 2,000. That means the upgrade. But… the store has something you could use right now. A diagnostic module. Cuts repair time in half. Costs 150 RP."
Jace froze. "If I buy it, I won't hit 2,000."
"Correct. You'll stay weak a little longer. But faster. Or you can hoard your points, crawl to 2,000, and unlock the shiny new toy. Your call."
Riley glanced at him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Jace said quickly. "Just… thinking."
He clenched his fists. "No. We wait. I'm not burning RP now. We get the upgrade."
Patchwork chuckled.
"Suit yourself. Miserly and stubborn. Fine qualities in a host."
---
Settlement
Payment: $1,600
Wealth: $44,084.88 → $45,684.88
Taxes Paid: –$8,194.35 (Pending cleared)
Rent Paid: –$2,600 (Workshop + Apartment)
Wealth after deductions: $34,890.53
RP Gained: +120 (multi‑issue sabotage job, under surveillance)
RP Total: 1,918 → 2,038
---
Back at the Workshop
Riley leaned against the bench. "So? Did we make it?"
Jace nodded. "Rent's paid. Taxes too. We're still afloat."
Patchwork's voice cut in, sharp and gleeful.
"And congratulations. You've crossed 2,000 RP. Temporal Diagnostics unlocked. But here's the catch: it takes a full day to install. During that time, you don't get me. No repairs, no sarcasm, no safety net. Just you, your tools, and your fragile human brain."
Jace stiffened. "You're saying I'll be powerless for a day?"
"Exactly. Consider it… a trial by incompetence. Survive it, and you'll come out stronger. Fail, and, well… at least Riley can sell your tools."
Riley frowned. "What's going on?"
Jace exhaled slowly. "Tomorrow, I'm on my own."
The echo pulsed once — not steady this time, but muted, as if bracing for silence.
---
Status Update
- RP Total: 2,038
- Wealth: $34,890.53
- Pending Taxes: $0.00
- Monthly Rent: Paid
- Capabilities: Mechanical, Electronic, Emotional, Biological
- Upgrade in Progress: Temporal Diagnostics (24 hours – Patchwork unavailable)
---
Patchwork Status: Offline (Upgrade in Progress – 24 hours)
---
The silence was the first thing Jace noticed. Not the quiet of the workshop — the hum of the fridge, the tick of Riley's pen, the faint buzz of the fluorescent light — but the absence of Patchwork's voice. No sarcasm, no commentary, no smug little asides. Just… nothing.
It was unnerving.
Riley glanced up from her notes. "You okay?"
Jace nodded automatically, though his stomach was tight. "Yeah. Just… weird without him."
"Good weird or bad weird?"
"Both." He zipped his kit. "Let's see how bad it gets."
The call came mid‑morning. A community arts center. Their lighting system was down, the HVAC was sputtering, and the main water line had sprung a leak in the basement. Normally, Jace would have welcomed the variety — mechanical, electrical, plumbing. But today, without Patchwork, it felt like a gauntlet.
The arts center was buzzing with volunteers setting up for an evening performance. The director, a harried man in a paint‑splattered shirt, waved them over. "We've got a show tonight. If we can't fix this, we'll have to cancel."
Jace crouched at the lighting board first. Normally, Patchwork would have murmured in his head, pointing out the fault, mocking him for missing the obvious. Now it was just him, staring at the mess of wires. He traced them slowly, methodically, until he found the culprit: a fried dimmer module. He dug through his kit, found a spare, and swapped it in. The lights flickered, then steadied.
Next was the HVAC. The blower motor was rattling, the bearings shot. Jace pulled the housing apart, cleaned the shaft, and improvised a shim from a strip of aluminum. It wasn't perfect, but it would hold through the night.
Finally, the basement. Water pooled across the floor, volunteers scrambling with mops. Jace waded in, found the cracked joint in the main line, and clamped it with a steel sleeve. The leak slowed, then stopped.
By the time he climbed back upstairs, his shirt was soaked, his hands raw, and his head pounding. But everything was working.
Riley handed him a towel. "You did it."
Jace sank onto a bench. "Barely. Without him, it's like… walking blind."
She sat beside him. "You're not blind. You're good. You've always been good. Patchwork just makes you faster."
He didn't answer. He couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability, the sense that without the voice in his head, he was just a man with a toolbox.
The director pressed a check into Riley's hand. "You saved us. Thank you."
Back at the workshop, Riley tallied the numbers.
Payment: $1,200
Wealth: $34,890.53 → $36,090.53
Taxes: +$204.00 added to Pending (Total: $204.00)
RP Gained: +90 (multi‑issue repair without Patchwork)
RP Total: 2,038 → 2,128
Jace leaned against the bench, staring at the silent corner of his mind where Patchwork usually lived. The echo pulsed faintly, muted, as if asleep.
Riley touched his arm. "One day. That's all. Tomorrow, he'll be back. And you'll have something new."
Jace nodded slowly. "Yeah. Tomorrow."
The silence pressed in again. Heavy. Unfamiliar.
For the first time in months, he was truly alone.
---
Status Update
- RP Total: 2,128
- Wealth: $36,090.53
- Pending Taxes: $204.00
- Monthly Rent: Paid
- Capabilities: Mechanical, Electronic, Emotional, Biological
- Upgrade in Progress: Temporal Diagnostics (Patchwork unavailable – 23 hours remaining)
---
Patchwork Status: Offline (Upgrade in Progress – 23 hours remaining)
---
The workshop felt wrong without the constant hum in Jace's head. He kept glancing at the empty corner of his mind where Patchwork usually lived, half‑expecting a sarcastic jab that never came. The silence was heavier than the fluorescent buzz overhead.
Riley noticed. She always did. "You're twitchy," she said, flipping through the ledger. "Like you're waiting for someone to yell at you."
Jace gave a humorless laugh. "I guess I got used to the noise."
The phone rang before he could say more. A hotel downtown. Their ballroom was hosting a corporate conference, and the staff were frantic: the escalator had seized, the PA system was dead, and the fire alarm panel kept tripping.
Jace grabbed his kit. "Let's go."
The lobby was crowded when they arrived, suits milling around, murmuring irritably. And there they were — Daniel's people, leaning against the concierge desk, watching him with open interest. Without Patchwork, their gaze felt sharper, like they could see every hesitation.
He forced himself to move. The escalator's drive chain had been jammed with a metal rod. He pried it free, reset the motor, and the steps began to move again. The PA system had its fuses swapped, mismatched amperage again. He replaced them, recalibrated the board, and the speakers hummed back to life. Finally, the fire alarm panel. Someone had bridged