Emergency Situation - Episode 5 3D Render, Digital Art by emarukk

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Emergency Situation - Episode 5 3D Render, Digital Artwork by emarukk

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PROFILE

Emergency Situation - Episode 5

3D Render by emarukk

The girl stepped onto the cracked pavement, my hand still held out in a command I hadn’t thought through. Dark shades shielded her eyes, but I caught a flicker of surprise beneath wild, unkempt curls. She squared her shoulders, chin lifted in challenge, a stance that said she belonged here, or at least refused to be intimidated. Lotta giggled, the sound sharp and bright as the girl demanded, “You got a permit for that gesture, or just compensating?
For half a heartbeat, I wondered if she was one of the Ghosts, one of Aygul’s, maybe, sent to test me. But I knew every Ghost in Portauthor, and this wasn’t one of them. Mattias let out a sigh and covered his face with his palm, as if he'd just watched his captain step on a live wire. That made me uneasy; I hated being the only one in the dark, hated that everyone around me seemed to be playing a different game with the rules rewritten when I wasn’t looking. A couple of pedestrians slowed to watch, more curious than concerned, and I let my hand fall, suddenly uncertain.

“Marieke, hi!Lotta’s voice rose in delight, too delighted, as she’d stumbled into a surprise reunion in the middle of a warzone. She reached up, resting her hand on the girl’s shoulder; Lotta was tiny, almost Casia-sized, and Marieke was only a little taller, Aygul’s height, maybe, but thin. That thought twisted in my gut.

“Lotta!The girl’s tension melted instantly, her face cracking into a real smile. She leaned in, on the verge of a full embrace, as if the city around us wasn’t waiting to eat us alive. I made a mental note: there was a story here, and I needed it, just not right now. My eyes caught a shimmer on Marieke’s neck: the cold, unmistakable lines of a TCS unit. My stomach dropped. High-class thrall, probably bonded to someone with more power than sense. She was most likely wealthier and had more freedom than most citizens.

The two women fell into a rapid-fire exchange, chatter that washed over me, words flowing between them with the effortless confidence of old friends reunited. It was the kind of conversation that men can never quite parse, a language made of laughter, side glances, and the weight of shared memory. Water between rocks. Irrelevant, except for the cover it gave me.

I slid my hand into my jacket, fingers brushing the embedded signal scrambler in my cybernetic arm. Illegal, sure. But so was everything worth doing in Portauthor these days, including guns. I flicked the control surface, feeling the faint buzz as the device spun up, enough interference to mask my next move from the digital world of signals. Any Ghost Hand nearby would have gone wild with that radiating signal that pierced into their world like a scalpel to flesh.

Scooters' remote control signals would never reach me with this beauty interfering with every wavelength within a ten-meter radius. I have always loved being a specter in the digital world. Casias' signal faded in my tactical eye, but I had saved her location and ensured I could navigate with visual sensors augmenting my natural senses.

“Captain,Mattias started, a warning in his tone, but I was already at the hover scooter. I jammed my heel down, firing the grav-lift to full. The machine screamed, a banshee wail that turned heads all down the block. I didn’t care. I tore away from the curb, shadows and neon and shouts spinning past, the city howling in my wake.

I didn’t have time for mysteries, not when Aygul was on the line.