AETHER MIDNIGHT

Three Seconds

Acid rain soaked Level 1313, creating a thin mist under the neon lights. In the alley behind The Garage, Grox and I dragged the cyborg's corpse toward the waste facility. The weight made my breathing ragged, but I paced myself, hiding my true stamina behind the mask of an exhausted mechanic.

"I can't believe this," Grox whispered, panting heavily. Grox swallowed hard, his eyes glancing warily around the black market territory. "If the cartel catches us dumping a body in their territory, we'll be turned into giant hound food!"

"Stop complaining and pull," I replied, gripping the shattered ankle.

At the edge of a sulfuric acid vat, thick yellow smoke billowed into the cold air.

"One... two... three."

With a final shove, the massive body plunged into the thick liquid. A loud hiss filled the air as the acid dissolved the metal and synthetic flesh. Within hours, nothing would remain but toxic bubbles.

"Done," Grox wiped his forehead. "Your luck tonight is absurd, L. A power cable? Seriously?"

"A high-voltage cable, Grox. And a floor soaked in his coolant. I just saw an opportunity."

When Grox turned to check the alley, I moved like lightning. My fingers brushed the lubricant-smeared memory chip I had secretly pried from the Vorrak's skull with my kunai before we tossed him.

"Let's go back," I said. "We still have a door to weld."

Half an hour later, The Garage was my territory again. The stuffy air was replaced by the familiar scent of ozone and hot metal.

I sat at my workbench, my back to Grox as he finally opened his beer with a sigh. My attention was on my datapad. I inserted the bloody chip into my adapter and scanned its logs. Rows of green code pierced the cheap encryption. My eyes narrowed at the transmission log.

Ping. Sent

The air froze. My heart skipped a beat. The cyborg's comms device had passively linked with the Scout Synth. When I activated it, before my hammer smashed it, a data packet escaped.

Three seconds.

It wasn't enough to send visual recordings, but it was enough to broadcast spatial coordinates to the deepest layers of the galactic Gridline. That tiny signal had bounced off the junk satellites of Noctis Reach, shooting into the void.

The Eclipse Agents now knew Imperium technology was reacting here. Noctis Reach was marked.

Memories of a flashing red blade and burning flesh forced their way into my mind. I took a deep breath, pushing the Veil back into the darkest corners of my soul.

This moon was a multi-layered labyrinth of steel. It would take years for anyone to comb through billions of souls for a dead signal. The danger was real, but it was far away.

I crushed the chip with pliers and tossed it.

"Zoning out, L?" Grox called out, his voice slurred.

"Calculating the cost of the plates you destroyed." I grabbed my welding mask.

"Hey, I brought the replacements! You owe me a cup of that bitter sludge you call coffee."

I sparked the welder, letting the blue flame burn with razor-sharp focus. I began sealing the torn steel door. The rhythm of melting metal calmed me. This was my therapy. Putting something broken back together.

After a comfortable silence, the door was whole again. Rough, but strong enough to withstand a thermal grenade.

I turned off the torch and walked to my coffee machine. The compressor hummed, pumping water through copper pipes. The rich aroma of premium beans filled The Garage, chasing away the scent of ozone and synthetic blood. I poured the black liquid into a mug, inhaling. Here lay my sanity.

As I took my first sip, a loud knock echoed from the newly sealed door.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

Grox instantly lowered his beer, flicking off the safety of his laser pistol.

"L..."

I signaled for quiet, peered through the security lens, and sighed. I hit the hydraulic release.

The door opened, revealing an old, dull-blue-skinned Lumean. His head-tentacles drooped with extreme exhaustion. It was Jax.

"By all the wormholes on the Polaris route, L! Why is this door so thick? I nearly broke my hand," Jax grumbled, stepping inside uninvited. He dropped his frail body onto a bench with a creak and tossed a burlap sack onto the table. It clinked heavily.

"This planet is getting crazier," Jax complained, digging into his coat pocket for a synthetic cigarette.. "Cartel troops blocked Sector 4. I detoured six blocks to scavenge this junk." Jax grumbled.

"Good haul today, Jax?" I asked casually, sipping my coffee.

"I don't know. you're the mechanic, you judge." Jax exhaled blue smoke. "Found it near the upper port generator. A reactor cooling engine part. Pure hexsteel, but the damage is strange.."

I pulled the sack closer and emptied it. It was a mid-class reactor cooling unit. But when I turned it over to inspect the compressor, my movements halted. Time froze.

My fingers traced the metal. The three-inch-thick hexsteel wasn't broken, torn by an explosion, or blasted by plasma.

It had been sliced.

The cut was perfectly straight without warped splinters. The edges were blackened, melted at extreme temperatures, yet so localized it didn't damage adjacent components. I could still feel a faint radiant heat.

Jax and Grox's voices faded into a distant buzz. As a mechanic, I knew the best cutting tools left jagged edges or slag. But as a Veil user... I recognized this burn.

Absolute precision. Concentrated heat. A smooth cut slicing hexsteel like butter.

This was the slash of an Arcblade.

My eyes locked onto the melted metal, my previous assumptions shattering. That three-second signal wasn't sent to summon my past. It was sent as a report.

Someone wielding an energy sword was already on Noctis Reach. They were cutting through whatever stood in their way to get here.

I looked at my reinforced steel door. For the first time in years, this workshop felt incredibly fragile. And my quiet life had just found its expiration date.