As the chop of the helicopter’s blades faded, Three carefully extracted his arm from one of Regis Tower’s ventilation shafts. Carefully, he replaced the shaft cover, then yawned and stretched, hands propped against his lower back.

All around him, men in white suits rushed this way and that. One carried a crate of weapons. Another lugged water bottles. A few ran by in groups, heads huddled together.

Three frowned and stretched harder, resisting the urge to unspool his arms. They always felt tight, as if the muscles that had long since been replaced were coiled up taut, instead of the cables and winches that were. He scratched at the cable idly, then stopped himself. The dim, unsatisfying sensation would drive him mad if he kept trying.

“Tomorrow,” Laredo murmured from beside him.

Three barely repressed the urge to jump. If Chunk saw an ordinary human sneak up on him, he’d be dead in a heartbeat. Am I losing my edge? He swallowed, then buried his fear behind a smile. “Tomorrow’s the big day!”

“At long last, I can clean this damned Block. For so long, I’ve waited. I built this Group from scratch, climbed to the heights of the slums, and built a palace there, but all this time, I was only king of the slums. Now… now it all changes.”

“I don’t think anyone will recognize this place after tomorrow,” Three agreed enthusiastically.

Laredo eyed him, suspicious. After a moment, the light in his eyes hardened, and he frowned. “Where is that candidate you promised me? I don’t believe you’ve captured that runaway of yours yet.”

Three nodded upward. “Did you hear that helicopter? That was him. Don’t worry. He’ll make quick work of whatever those peasants throw at you.”

“Even that war harness they dredged out of Asteri-know-where?” Laredo asked.

Three scoffed. “Give me half an hour and I could mangle that old trash heap. Don’t worry. With our support, the Block is as good as conquered.”

Silence. Laredo glanced at Three. “I never thought you tools were so lively.”

“I’m just special,” Three said casually.

“Indeed.” Laredo glanced above them. “Shall I greet your candidate?”

Three paused. He put a hand to his ear and tipped his head. His eyes went blank for a second, and then he nodded. “He’s heading to your office as we speak.”

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Laredo needed no further invitation. He swept off, suit jacket flying as he walked.

The lights flickered on as he entered. He pressed a button. Smoothly, the lights dimmed. The dimmer they grew, the brighter the city burned outside. A black blot at the foot of his tower, the Block stood dead. Only a few windows dared glow. All the neon was dark. Warning billboards spilled blood red over the empty streets. The few remaining residents scurried through the shadows like rats, or maybe cockroaches.

Laredo allowed himself a rare smile. He reached out toward the glass, hand clenching slowly into a fist.

Three leaned against the wall. He quirked an eyebrow at Laredo, but said nothing.

The door opened. Laredo turned, slowly.

Chunk loomed in the doorway, a solid block of muscle. Laredo eyed him. His eyes drifted downward. Barely coming up to Chunk’s waist, a slender child glared back at him. Two-inch-long hair hung just over their ears and halfway down their forehead, shaved in the back and on the sideburns. Dressed in skintight black, they stood utterly upright, ramrod straight.

Laredo frowned. His brows furrowed.

Startlingly blue eyes blinked back at him.

“The candidate?” he asked.

Three cleared his throat and stepped forward, gesturing grandiosely. “May I present to you Seven-A. Our latest, highest class, cutting-edgiest technology in a compact, easy-to-transport package.”

Laredo’s eyes flickered. Anger simmered in their depths. “That is a child.”

A single footstep smashed down. Seven-A blurred. A knife slammed into the glass beside Laredo’s throat. Cracks shimmered through the window. Inches from the kingpin of Regis Group, Seven-A stared, blank-faced, eyes slits. “I am not a child.”

Frozen. Three stared, afraid to breathe. Chunk might as well have been furniture.

Slowly, Laredo’s eyes dropped down to the knife, then to the child who held it. “So this is a candidate.”

“Stand down,” Chunk ordered.

Unhesitatingly, Seven-A yanked the knife out of the glass and backed away. They knelt beside Chunk, one fist pressed to the floor.

Three cleared his throat and continued. “Seven-A remains under our orders, but will do everything he can to assist your cause.”

“I can’t use him?” Laredo frowned.

“You have full control over all the other tools we’ve loaned you, but… getting a candidate out here was hard enough. We couldn’t negotiate any more than that.”

Laredo snorted, displeased. A moment passed, and he turned back to the window. “I certainly hope this… small creature is worth everything I’ve taken on for Seirios.”

Seven-A twitched, but a gesture from Chunk kept him pinned.

“You won’t be sorry,” Three assured him. He gestured for Chunk and Seven-A to leave as he backed away himself.

The door shut. A step outside, Seven-A stopped. Three turned back. “C’mon, you already pissed him off enough for one day.”

Seven-A’s entire face contorted into a scowl, like he’d stepped into dog shit. “How dare you order me, tool.”

“Oh, hey, hey, be kind. When you become a tool like the rest of us, I’ll be your senior.”

His scowl deepened. “Never.”

Three glanced at Chunk. “Are you sure about this?”

“I followed my orders,” Chunk replied mechanically.

Three clicked his tongue. “Of all times to do your actual damn work, stupid boss…”

Seven-A stalked away murderously. Behind his back, Three nodded at Chunk, who turned to follow. Three sighed, watching them go, then tapped one of his arm segments. A small window opened, revealing a matte gray block. “Four more to go.”

A mischievous smile crawled over his face. He wandered off, whistling to himself. Alright, boss. Let’s see if this gambit of yours pays off.