With a meaty thud, the orc’s fist connected with the infernal‘s jaw. The fiend staggered backward, fiery blood spraying from his mouth and sizzling away, the stench of sulfur filling the air. Another swing sent him reeling to the ground, his horns gouging grooves in the packed dirt floor.

The crowd roared, their bloodthirsty cries drowning out all other sounds. Money changed hands as bets were settled, and drinks sloshed onto the floor as spectators jostled for a better view of the action.

Agatha leaned against the makeshift bar, her massive frame dwarfing the rickety stools beside her. She watched the fight with a critical eye, noting the orc’s sloppy footwork and the infernal’s poor guard. Amateurs, both of them. Even nowadays, she’d have had them both on the ground in seconds.

“Pathetic,” she muttered, taking a swig from her bottle of synth-beer. The taste was awful—bland and watery, without a bit of kick to it—but it was better than nothing. “Back in my day, we knew how to throw a proper punch.”

A lanky elf sidled up next to her, tossing his long white hair over his shoulder. “Come on, Granny. You gotta admit, it’s still a good show.“

Agatha snorted, her eyes never leaving the ring. “A good show? Kiddo, this is barely a warm-up. Now, if you want to see an actual fight—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’d have ‘em both kissing the floor in no time.” The elf smirked and reached for her bottle, but she pulled it away before he could grab it. “You know, you’re awfully cranky for someone who’s just about to be a rich lady again.”

She gave him a sidelong glance, her blue eyes boring into his. “Watch it, Milo. You ain’t too old for me to put you over my knee, boy.”

Her grandson held up his hands in mock surrender, his smirk widening. “Alright, alright. No need to get violent, Granny. Save that energy for the job, yeah?”

Agatha grunted, turning her attention back to the fight. The roles had switched, and now the infernal had the orc in a headlock, pummeling his face with scaly fists. Blood and teeth flew, and the orc’s tusks were smashed in half. Despite her words, Agatha felt a thrill of satisfaction at the brutal display.

“Speaking of the job,” Milo continued, lowering his voice, “the ones you mentioned, your ex-associates? They’ve arrived.“

“Good. Took them long enough.” She drained the last of her beer and slammed the bottle on the bar. “Alright, kid. Show’s over. Time to earn your keep.”

Milo nodded, his playful demeanor vanishing in an instant. He straightened up, adjusting the black collar of his leather jacket. “You got it, grandma. I’ll make sure no one disturbs you.”

The old bruiser clapped him on the shoulder, making the young man stagger. “Atta boy. There’s hope for you yet.”

She took a last look at the battered fighters. What they lacked in skill, they at least made up for in endurance. Despite both being half-dead on their feet, neither had thrown in the towel. Good, strong wills. She might have made decent brawlers out of them, back in the day.

But there was no time for reminiscing. The rest of her team was waiting, and she wasn’t getting any younger. She pushed off from the bar, her massive frame parting the crowd like a ship’s prow through choppy waters. The spectators gave her a wide berth, some out of respect, others out of fear. Her reputation still carried weight, even after all these years.

She made her way to the back of the club, where a hidden door led to the gang’s private quarters. The familiar tingle coursed through her as she pressed her palm against the scanner, allowing it to analyze her biosignature. With a soft hiss, the door slid open, revealing a dimly lit corridor.

As she walked down the hallway, the sounds of the fight club faded away, replaced by the low hum of electronics and the occasional beep of security systems. The walls were covered with graffiti and gang tags, but she paid them no mind. She knew every inch of this place, had helped build it from the ground up. This was her territory, her domain.

At the end of the corridor, she stopped in front of a reinforced steel door, this one guarded by two heavily augmented trolls. They nodded respectfully as she approached, stepping aside to let her pass.

The room beyond was a complete departure from the grungy atmosphere of the fight club. Clean, well-lit, and filled with high-tech equipment, it looked more like a corporate war room than a gang hideout. Holographic displays flickered in the air, showing maps, data streams, and security camera feeds from all over the district.

In the center of the room, gathered around a large table, were her old comrades. Maria, her silver hair pulled back in a tight bun, was hunched over a holographic display, her cybernetic eyes flickering as she processed data. Gertrude sat quietly in the corner, her sniper rifle disassembled before her as she meticulously cleaned each part.

“About time you showed up,” Maria said, a hint of a smile on her weathered face. “We were starting to think you’d gotten lost in the crowd.”

Agatha snorted, pulling up a reinforced chair that groaned under her weight. “Please. I could navigate that rabble blindfolded and drunk off my ass.”

“And are you? Drunk, that is.”

“Not nearly enough.” Arms folded across her chest, she leaned back in her chair. “So, what’s the word? We still on for tonight?”

The old netrunner nodded, her fingers dancing over the holographic interface. A holo-map of the district appeared above the table, zooming in on a large building. “Everything’s set. Our window opens at 0200 hours, when the Mana Tide reaches its peak. Security will be at its lowest then, with most of the guards high on the surge.”

Gertrude’s eyes held a lingering question as she glanced up from her rifle, her hands never missing a beat as they carefully cleaned and reassembled the weapon.

“Yes, I’ve accounted for the increased mana levels,” Maria answered, understanding the silent query. “Our implants should hold up fine for the duration of the operation. Just don’t push them to their limits.”

The room was filled with a loud whirring sound as Agatha leaned forward, bracing her metal-plated forearms on the table. With a cold and steely look in her eyes, she studied the layout of the building.

“And our intel? Is it solid?”

“As solid as it can be, given the circumstances. Assuming we trust anything that snake has told us.”

A low growl rumbled in Agatha’s throat. “Oh, I trust him, alright. Trust him to screw us over the first chance he gets. But if there’s one thing we can count on, it’s his greed. He knows how much money is at stake here. He won’t risk losing it.”

“True enough. But we still need to be careful. This isn’t like the old days. We’re not as young as we used to be.”

Agatha barked out a laugh. “Speak for yourself, old woman. I can still bench-press a truck.”

“And throw your back out in the process,” Maria retorted. “You may be a walking tank, Aggie, but even you have your limits.”

With a final click, Gertrude finished reassembling her rifle, the sound cutting through the banter. She stood up, slinging the weapon over her shoulder, and stepped forward to join them at the table. Her gaze swept over the holographic display, taking in every detail.

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The bruiser grunted, running her fingers through her shaggy white hair. “Alright, alright. So what’s the plan? We going in loud or quiet?” She cracked her knuckles, the sound like metal grinding against metal. “I say we go in hot. Hit ‘em hard and fast, before they know what hit ‘em.”

“And risk alerting the entire district?” Maria shook her head. “No, we need to be smart about this. Quick and quiet.”

“Since when have any of our jobs ever gone ‘quick and quiet’?”

“Since we got too old to outrun security drones,” the netrunner shot back. “Besides, do you know how many of them are inside? Considering who we’re dealing with, it’s a safe bet they are packed there tighter than a clown car. We’ll run out of bullets before they run out of bodies.”

Agatha sat back in her chair, which creaked dangerously under her weight. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. But if things go south, don’t expect me to hold back.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Maria replied, tapping on a console. A moment later, a series of three-dimensional holographic models of the target building appeared above the table. “We have two realistic options. The first is through the basement level. There’s a maintenance tunnel that connects to the city’s old sewer system. It shouldn’t be heavily guarded, but it’s narrow and long. We’d be vulnerable if we got spotted.”

“And the second option?”

“The roof,” Maria answered, her finger tapping on the hologram. “That’s an aerial shuttle dock, where they unload shipments from other megacity levels. We’d have to rappel down from the adjacent building and the security is definitely tighter there, but we wouldn’t be stuck in a confined space. Main issue would be to secure the area without raising alarm.”

“Which one puts us closer to our target?”

“We don’t know. The location wasn’t included in our intel. I’ve identified three possible areas where it could be, but without getting inside, we won’t know for sure.”

Agatha leaned forward, studying the holographic models intently.“What about the security systems? How advanced are we talking here?”

A deep sigh escaped Maria’s lips as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “They’ve got state-of-the-art tech. Military grade. I’ve been trying to hack into their systems, but they’ve got some pretty heavy-duty firewalls in place. I’m not bypassing them anytime soon without internal connection. Especially with the mana interference.”

“And there’s no other way in?”

“Not unless you plan to go all out and involve this whole operation of yours even more.” Maria‘s hand gestured at the surroundings. “But doing that during the festival? The NCPD and Corporate Security would swarm the area like a plague of locusts.”

Agatha weighed the options in her mind. It was risky, but then again, they’d never shied away from danger before. This was their last chance to make things right, to balance the scales after all these years. And damn it, she wouldn’t let this opportunity slip through her fingers.

Nodding slowly, she confirmed her decision. “Alright, we’ll go with the roof. I’d rather face a hail of bullets than get stuck in some cramped tunnel.”

“You sure about that? If the shuttle dock is crawling with guards, we could get pinned down.“

“I’ll manage.” A metallic gong resounded through the room as she slapped her titanium-plated chest. “I wanna see their bullets try to pierce this baby.”

Maria shook her head, a wry smile on her lips. “Always the bulldozer, Aggie. Some things never change.”

Gertrude nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“What can I say? I’m a simple woman with simple needs.” Agatha gave them a wide grin.

The old netrunner rubbed her forehead, a resigned expression on her face. “Fine. We’ll go with the roof. Once we secure...”

As Maria delved into the intricacies of their plan, Agatha found herself distracted. A nagging pain in her lower back flared up, causing her to shift restlessly. Shifting in her seat, trying to find a more comfortable position, she cursed these chairs that were never designed with someone of her size and augmentations in mind.

A loud pop from her metal-reinforced spine punctuated her discomfort, drawing concerned glances from her old comrades, but she waved them off with a dismissive gesture. “I’m fine. Just these damn implants acting up again. Nothing to worry about.”

Despite her bravado, Agatha couldn’t ignore the truth. Age was creeping up on all of them, cybernetics be damned. Her joints protested with each movement, her reflexes dulled by time. Yet, she’d face hell itself before letting a little pain stop her.

She reached for the bottle of synth-beer, twisting the cap off with ease, and downed it in one go. The cheap alcohol’s warmth was comforting, like an old friend. ‘Liquid courage’, they used to call it. Perhaps not necessary anymore, but welcome all the same.

A knock on the door interrupted their discussion. Milo stuck his head in, his expression serious. “Sorry to interrupt, but Vika’s here. Says she needs to talk to you, Granny.”

Agatha nodded, pushing herself to her feet with a groan. “Alright, let her in. We’re just about wrapped up here, anyway.”

The young elf stepped aside, allowing a tall, muscular woman to enter. Vika, Agatha’s eldest daughter, strode in with the confidence of a natural leader. Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight braid, revealing a face that bore a striking resemblance to her mother’s, albeit with fewer wrinkles and scars.

“Mother,” she said, nodding curtly. “Aunt Maria. Aunt Gertrude. I hope I’m not interrupting.”

There was an edge to her voice that Agatha didn’t like. Something almost accusatory. “Nothing we can’t finish later. What’s on your mind, girl?”

Vika’s gaze swept over the holographic displays, taking in the building schematics and security details. Her jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “I just wanted to check in and see how things are going. It’s almost time, right?”

“Just about,” Agatha replied, studying her daughter’s face. “You got everything set on your end?”

Another curt nod answered her question. “The boys are in position. We’ll create enough of a distraction to keep the local security occupied.”

The room grew quiet, the weight of unspoken words and tension hanging heavily in the air. Maria busied herself with the holograms, while Gertrude methodically checked her rifle’s scope.

Finally, Vika was the one to break it. “You know, there’s still time to bring in more people. I’ve got some skilled operators who could—”

“No.” Agatha’s voice was firm, brooking no argument. “This is our fight. Our responsibility.”

“But—”

“I said no, Vika.” Steel crept into her tone. “We appreciate the help you’re already giving us. That’s more than enough.”

The younger woman’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t push the issue.

“Fine,” she said at last, her shoulders sagging slightly. “Be careful, alright? All of you.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across Agatha’s weathered features. “Always am, kiddo. You know me.”

“That’s why I’m afraid,” Vika muttered under her breath. Raising her voice, she continued, “I won’t keep you any longer. You’ve got a lot to prepare for. Just... do me a favor, okay?”

“What is it?”

Her eyes met Vika’s, and she could see the intensity in her gaze. “Don‘t miss.”

Before Agatha could respond, her daughter spun on her heels and marched out of the room. The door hissed shut behind her, leaving the three old women alone once more.

As Vika’s footsteps faded, an uncomfortable stillness settled over the room. Agatha’s cybernetic arms betrayed her tension, a faint tremor visible as she clenched her fists, accompanied by the gentle hum of servos.

“She’s worried about you,” Maria said softly, her eyes still fixed on the holographic display.

A grunt was the only response. Turning back to the table, the old bruiser pretended to busy herself studying the building schematics once more. “Let’s go over the timeline again.”

For the next hour, the three women meticulously reviewed every detail of their plan. Each step was analyzed, potential pitfalls identified, and contingencies discussed. As they talked, the weight of years seemed to fall away. For a moment, they were young again, planning another daring heist with the confidence of those who believed themselves invincible.

But reality had a way of intruding. A stifled groan here, a wince there—small reminders of the toll time had taken on their bodies. Even with their extensive augmentations, age remained an implacable foe.

Finally, Maria shut down the holographic display. “That’s it, then. If either of you wants to back out, now’s the time. Once we leave, there’s no going back.”

Gertrude shook her head, slinging her rifle over her shoulder. Without a word, she stood up and walked to the door. She glanced back over her shoulder, waiting for them to follow.

Agatha cracked her neck, groaning as her metal-laced spine popped. “Damn right. I don’t know about you, but I’m not planning to grow any more gray hairs than I already have.”

She pushed herself to her feet, her joints creaking in protest. A dull ache radiated through her lower back, but she ignored it. Pain was an old friend by now. With a nod to her companions, she strode towards the exit, her heavy footsteps echoing in the room.

At the threshold, she paused, casting one last glance at the place that had been her sanctuary for so long. Memories flooded her mind—of laughter, of tears, of victories and defeats. But now wasn’t the time for nostalgia. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped into the corridor.

The cool air of the night beckoned, carrying with it the promise of danger and, perhaps, redemption.

It was time to finish what they had started so long ago.