The air was thick with the stench of burning circuitry and damp concrete. The two hackers, known by their online nicknames Warpig and Neuron, navigated the row of market stalls. It was late at night and LED strips lit up the abandoned parking garage, now serving as a shadow market and a meeting place for hacktivists.

Some had set up small stalls next to their car to sell their wares, and others had spread a blanket on the ground. "This place is a goldmine," Warpig smiled. "You can get anything here: electronic hacking tools, software, stolen goods."

"It might be a goldmine, but this ain't no playground." Neuron noticed a few people carrying guns out in the open. "How'd you even find this place?"

“Johnny Mahmoud. He can hook us up with some iced stuff."

"I don't trust that guy."

"You have only met him once. He's a stand-up guy."

"He's also a frequent pain in the balls."

"Yeah, yeah. Sometimes."

In a corner of the market, they found Johnny Mahmoud. Johnny had a folding table he had set up between two parked vans, where he sold electronic parts. "Hey Robbie, long time ago we linked up."

"It's Warpig now. And Neuron."

"Aye, by the Mullah! I forget you are not street kids anymore. I heard you are up-and-coming black-hatters after you hacked into the Gullfire Systems server."

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"We were lucky," said Neuron and shrugged. "I'm looking for a VRX2 cable. Do you have any?"

"I sold the last one yesterday. Check with Francis. He sells stuff from the trunk of his old BMW." Johnny pointed. "It's the one with graffiti. Can't miss it."

"Thanks. I'll be right back."

Warpig rounded the table Johnny had set up and peeked over his shoulder. The table was cluttered with electronic parts, storage devices, hand-held consoles and cables. The smell of ozone from soldering irons hung in the air. "What are you working on?"

"I just finished decrypting this crystal that I... acquired," He pointed at the glass disk placed on top of a memory disk reader, clamps held the disk in place.

"Ohh, iced. What's on it?" Warpig was unable to conceal his excitement. Crystal was the common nickname for Quantum Crystal Data Disks, a storage device made of fused quartz with extreme storage capabilities.

"Let's see," Johnny browsed the file structure on the disk. "Here's a vid."

"What the hell..." Warpig whispered, eyes widening when watching the video. "Johnny, this is big."

Neuron came back, cable in hand. "I found the cable. What are you guys looking at?"

Warpig relayed the details of the video—a secret meeting between high-ranking corporate executives discussing plans that could reshape the city's future. Johnny played the video again. It was a low-res video, filmed with a hidden camera.

"You think this is legit?" Neuron asked, scepticism clear in his tone.

Warpig nodded. "This isn't some random data dump. It's saved on a crystal. Expensive tech. This is a smoking gun."

Before Neuron had the opportunity to respond, an alarm interrupted their conversation.

"Police," someone shouted. Gunshots echoed in the parking garage, causing chaos as people scattered in all directions.

Johnny picked up the crystal disk from the reader. "The po-po can't get their hands on this. Take the crystal, Robbie. Let people know."

They ran as fast as they could. As they escaped, Warpig couldn't shake the feeling that they had stumbled upon a secret that could change everything.