Emily leaned her head out of the fractured window, catching sight of the white doctor robot sprawled on the ground below, subdued by her magnet boxes. A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth as she looked down at it. "Good work, lad. I’ll just be right back."

Her mind was already racing as she turned to assist Hajime. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the girl fiddling with the NPU cylinder, trying to insert it into what looked like a wall socket. Emily ran toward her, ready to help.

Before she could reach her, Professor Darnell's voice called out, “Emily! Over here!”

She heard him, pausing for just a second. She was torn, but then, with a resigned sigh, she sprinted back toward him.

“What is it?” she asked, irritation lacing her voice.

“Help me. Look,” he said, gesturing to the flashing red klaxon beneath the elevator. He sounded more desperate than she’d ever heard him.

Emily frowned but turned back to the robot. She hopped over it, landing on the other side, her body moving on autopilot as she headed toward the professor.

“Just come here, please,” he insisted, his voice suddenly softer.

She acquiesced, confused by his urgency. The moment she was close enough, she felt a sudden, unexpected spray of liquid hit her face. She blinked, spluttering, wiping at her eyes.

“What the bloody hell was that?” she spat, but her words slurred, her body instantly feeling heavy, her thoughts clouded.

Professor Darnell’s smile widened. “How about that drink?”

Everything went fuzzy. Her muscles relaxed, her legs buckling under her as she collapsed onto the ground. A wave of nausea rolled over her, and she gagged, vomit spilling from her lips as she lay there. But it wasn’t fear or pain she felt—she felt light, euphoric, as though floating away from herself.

Emily muttered something, but she couldn’t even hear her own voice. Was she asking for a doctor?

Darnell leaned down, his grin unwavering. “I’m a doctor. A professor, anyhow. What can I do for you?”

Her body twitched involuntarily as she sat up, rubbing her torso, the sensation of her own hands sending tingles through her nerves. She could barely think, but she knew she felt good. Too good.

“Give me the key to your locks,” Darnell said, his voice soft, almost a purr.

Emily’s mouth stretched into an absurd grin, her body feeling like liquid warmth. “You can have anything you want,” she whispered, her voice distant in her own ears.

She barely noticed as his hands frisked her body, searching for the key. She leaned into his touch, not fully understanding why, but feeling... good. It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered.

Darnell found the key, his fingers curling around it as he stood up, the glint of success in his eyes. He hit the elevator stop button one last time before lifting Emily into his arms, her body limp and compliant.

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They moved quickly, but Emily barely registered where they were going. Everything was a blur of motion and sensation. She was aware, distantly, of being carried—through the fab lab, down a long green hallway, past darkened offices—but her mind floated far from the details.

When Darnell finally set her down outside the spaceport, her legs wobbled beneath her. “Run for that ship,” he instructed, pointing ahead.

Emily tried to move, but her motor functions were a wreck. She stumbled forward, her feet dragging beneath her as her mind spun in a drug-induced haze. She barely heard the sounds around her—the whirring, the clatter of mechanical limbs, the distant voice of Darnell behind her.

But then there was a shadow—a black, spidery shadow.

The crane robot’s arm came down swiftly, snatching her up before she could react. She let out a small, surprised sound, a soft gagging noise escaping her lips. But the drugs had numbed everything. She felt nothing as it lifted her into the air.

Darnell didn’t look back.

Emily’s world was hazy and fractured, the effects of the neurochemical toxicity from Darnell’s AVP still fogging her mind. She dangled limply from the crane, its spidery arm gripping her shoulder and neck with cold, unfeeling precision as it carried her toward the hopper. Her body was battered and weak, but deep inside her, something was stirring—fighting.

The Maat nanoparticles in her system, designed for emergencies just like this, had activated. They scanned her internal systems, working tirelessly to assess the damage. As they detected the AVP nanomachines wreaking havoc in her brain and body, the Maat particles launched a counterattack. Within seconds, they isolated and began to destroy the foreign nanomachines, deactivating the source of her misery.

Emily’s AVP feed stopped suddenly.

EPILOGUE TO THE INTERLUDE: BOLLOCKS

The haze began to lift.

Emily gasped as her eyes snapped open, her muscles twitching back to life. The crane’s grip still held her, but her mind was clear. Bloody hell, that was close. She glanced up, her eyes narrowing at the mechanical arm that was slowly dragging her toward the drop.

“Bollocks,” she muttered.

Her hand slipped into her belt pouch, fingers closing around a familiar handle. With a sharp hiss, she activated her handheld laser cutter. The crimson beam flared to life, and without hesitation, she sliced through the crane’s metallic grip, the arm jerking back as the steel melted away.

Emily fell, her body twisting in midair as she tumbled toward the hopper. She hit the ground hard but rolled just in time to avoid being dumped into the mechanical maw. For a moment, she lay there, breathing heavily, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Thank my lucky stars,” she whispered, a smirk tugging at her lips.

Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, her body still aching from the ordeal. The crane hovered overhead, momentarily confused by her sudden escape, but it didn’t matter now. She was free.

Emily glanced around, her sharp mind already calculating her next move. There—a nearby ore bin. It was her best chance to hide and regroup.

With quick, practiced movements, she scrambled into the bin, ducking down and pressing her back against the cool metal. She activated her optical camouflage, her body fading into the shadows, becoming almost invisible.

She sighed, reaching into another pocket to pull out a vial of nanoregenerative spray. Her hands trembled slightly as she applied the spray to her wounds, feeling the soothing tingle as the nanites worked their magic, stitching her broken body back together. She could already feel the healing process begin, but she knew it would take time.

For now, she needed to rest and think about a plan.

Huis, you bloody-disgusting bastard. Good luck dealing with my Ghost.

Hidden from view, Emily leaned back against the bin and closed her eyes, allowing the healing to take over. The danger wasn’t over, but she had bought herself precious time.

And that, for now, was enough.