AETHER MIDNIGHT

The Shadow on the Upper Level

The air in the basement felt dead. No hum of ventilators, no scent of burnt lubricant, just a creeping chill from the lead-lined walls. Darkness wrapped around me like a heavy, old blanket.

I sat cross-legged on the dusty concrete floor. Directly in front of me sat a dull metal chest, its lock broken years ago. Inside lay a worn cloak no longer fit for me to wear, a black mask from my bloodthirsty days on the run, and a silver metalic cylinder that felt heavier than it should.

I didn't even touch it.

Instead, I closed my eyes and let my breathing slow. I felt the Veil flowing around me, cold and blunt. Memories of the flashing red blade, screams swallowed by the vacuum of space, and the bloodlust that nearly drowned me into the dark side, pounded on the door of my consciousness. Strong, urgent, demanding revenge.

Slowly, I rebuilt that mental wall, locking away my anger. Slipping back into my identity as L the mechanic, covering the scars of the past with the reality of The Garage. When I opened my eyes, I was just who I am now. I climbed the ladder and sealed the steel panel just as the streetlights on Level 1313 blinked to signal the morning shift.

A few hours later, The Garage came to life. In the rest area, the atmosphere was usually filled with rough laughter and cigarette smoke. But this morning, the air felt as stiff as carbonite.

Jax scowled at his unlit synthetic cigarette. Across from him, Grox stood awkwardly, his four arms crossed. Risha leaned against a metal drum, chewing jelly beans with an annoyed expression. The cause sat upright behind the data terminal, typing at machine-like speed.

"Cora," Jax called out. "I just want to light this. One stick."

Cora spun her chair around. Her gaze was cold enough to freeze a reactor. "Based on air circulation calculations, your smoke will leave tar residue on the cooling filters. Efficiency decreases. Maintenance costs increase. Please smoke outside."

Jax snorted roughly, pocketing the cigarette.

"And you, Grox," Cora shifted her gaze. "Your body volume takes up twenty percent of the workspace. You aren't a customer. You are disrupting the workflow."

"Hey, Miss Calculator, I'm L's friend! I supply beer!"

"Beer that decreases a mechanic's precision rate by fifteen percent," Cora retorted. She looked at Risha. "Move your Hoverbike. Parking there creates a potential for collision."

Risha rolled her eyes. The relaxed atmosphere evaporated. Cora didn't mean to be harsh; efficiency was simply her language of survival. But for those used to the messy rhythm of The Garage, her presence felt suffocating. Useless to interfere, I wiped my hands and climbed the iron stairs to the Mezzanine.

The Mezzanine was an indoor cargo balcony, but it was where Kael found his life. I had found the boy shivering under heating pipes; now, this area held a warm mattress, a shelf of parts, and a dim reading lamp.

"L!" Kael greeted from his knee-high workbench. He was soldering a small circuit board. Next to him, Spark lay entering passive charging mode.

"Staying up late again?" I asked, leaning against the railing.

"Trying to stabilize the repulsor module for this glove," Kael held up a dull mechanical glove. "If it works, I can lift heavy engine plates without your help."

I smiled faintly. "Let me see." Kael handed over the board. "The routing is right. But you placed the resistor too close to the heat coil. Move it two centimeters left, or it'll melt on the first use."

"Ah! You're right," Kael tapped his forehead, chuckling.

Bwoop? Spark beeped softly from sleep mode, blinking once at us before resting again.

Being here, seeing Kael enthusiastically learning without the burden of galactic threats, made my breathing feel lighter. This was the life I wanted. But peace on Noctis Reach was always borrowed, and my borrowed time seemed to have run out.

By late afternoon, the sound of the workshop door being forced open shattered the calm. Two figures rushed in, panting heavily. Tali’s hands trembled as she gripped the arm of Dr. Sera.

The Venaa doctor's pale face was bloodless, cold sweat making the black geometric tattoo around her temple stand out starkly. They didn't bring broken tools or complaints about malfunctioning synths, they didn't head for the rest area.

I jumped down from the Mezzanine, instincts on high alert. Cora stood up, stopping her typing.

"Dr. Sera? Tali? What's wrong?" Risha approached.

"Lock the doors, L," Sera said with a trembling voice. "Close this workshop down now."

I pressed the wall panel. The layered steel shutter descended, sealing off the front of The Garage with a hissing hydraulic thud.

"Our clinic... we had to close it," Tali spoke quickly. "There's something up on Level 1315."

Only two levels above us.

I handed Sera a glass of water. "Drink. What happened?"

"A massacre, L. We got medical reports through the emergency network. The Crimson Skull gang in the eastern sector of 1315 was wiped out in less than ten minutes. A surviving witness ran to my clinic before dying from burns that made no sense." Sera slammed her glass down. "The flesh melted instantly. He wasn't stealing territory. He was conducting forced interrogations."

"Interrogations about what?" Grox asked, his face losing its color.

"The lost Imperium freighter," Tali whispered. "The figure with the red sword is tracking a signal. He's looking for whoever sold an active memory device a few days ago."

The room fell silent.

Grox slowly turned toward me, his eyes wide. The black cylinder. The Scout Synth I destroyed here. The scavenger sold it to Grox, and Grox brought it to me.

The chain of information was too short. The Eclipse Agent was following a trail of blood and ash pointing straight to The Garage.

My nervous system tightened. I glanced toward the darkest corner of the workshop, where the secret panel to the basement lay. The time for pretending was over.