Raven had always been straightforward, a trait that had often kept Aiden on edge.

Her questioning gaze never left Vincent's face, a silent demand for an explanation for his overnight recovery and sudden change in habits.

"Good morning to you too, Raven," Vincent replied, the words coming out more naturally than expected.

A smile touched the corners of his mouth, a subtle hint of Aiden's once vibrant humor seeping through.

Vincent found it oddly fitting, a perfect blend of his nature and Aiden's legacy.

Even though he was taken aback by Raven's audacity, it was nothing over the top. After all, this was the remorseless hacker who had stared adversity in the eyes more times than he could remember.

"Just thought I'd clean up a bit," Vincent replied, his tone calculated to be casual, brushing off her question with a shrug.

He could feel her gaze examining him, analyzing his every move, looking for signs of deceit.

But there was a secret and a narrative to maintain, and he wouldn't let their first encounter expose him.

"Well, I had a productive night," Vincent admitted casually, his gaze shifting to the neural helmet.

Suspicion, then, rooted in her features.

"Cut the crap, Sinclair," she bit back, her hands gripping the inhaler tighter, "you were practically on your deathbed yesterday, and now you look like you just came back from a vacation."

"Maybe I turned a new page?" Vincent replied, the tone of humor persistent in his voice.

"Near-death experiences give you a new perspective, you know?" Vincent explained, leaning back in the chair with a soft sigh.

It was easier to adopt Aiden's persona than he initially thought - perhaps a side effect of the intricate mesh of memories once explored.

The comment hung in the air momentarily, Raven's suspicious eyes piercing him, her mouth opening and closing slowly as she chewed on her words.

Then, her face softened momentarily, a flash of relief flooding her eyes.

Then her gaze hardened again, a sharp caution in her following words. "And I suppose that's the same explanation for your miraculous recovery?"

Vincent took a deep breath, letting his hands cross over the table. "I wasn't ready to give up, Raven," he said, his voice no longer humorous, his eyes meeting hers solemnly. "Not yet."

A silence stretched between them, Raven's fingers tapping in a staccato rhythm on the inhaler can.

Her eyes swept him again, assessing, calculating.

The underworld hacker veneer disappeared, revealing the woman underneath, battle-hardened and insidiously clever.

She sighed, the suspicion in her eyes softening. "I know you, Aiden," she said, her words slow and thoughtful.

"You're stubborn as hell, but you're not stupid. I just hope whatever you've done..." She paused, her gaze drifting from Vincent to the inhaler in her hand. "I hope it doesn't cost you in the long run."

For a moment, she seemed older, her tough exterior melting to expose a trace of vulnerability. But the moment was fleeting; her cautious expression quickly reclaimed its rightful place.

"Just remember, Sinclair, no matter how much you change, there are people here who care about you."

He nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "And that's why I fight, Raven," before continuing with a determined light shining in his eyes. "That's why we fight."

The hum of the old air conditioner in the corner became more pronounced, the monotonous noise punctuating the silence, filling the room with questions yet to be asked.

Raven pursed her lips, her gaze softened, and the suspicion in her eyes darkened a bit. "But that doesn't answer my question. How are you feeling, really?"

Vincent sighed, leaning back in the chair. "Better than yesterday, definitely. Although my mind is a bit scrambled."

He tapped his temple, indicating the brain chaos of unordered memories and fragmented experiences. "One day isn't enough to make sense of it all."

Raven's eyes narrowed, dropping to the inhaler still in her hand before returning to Vincent's face. "The antivirals... I thought you'd need them."

The concern in her voice was faint, but it was there.

A sincere moment told Vincent much about Raven and Aiden's relationship dynamics. It was far from perfect but strong enough to inspire genuine care.

"You thought right," he admitted, extending his hand for the inhaler. "I may have managed to recover, but I'm not taking any chances."

He held her gaze as he pressed the device against his lips and inhaled deeply, the chill of the antiviral flooding his senses.

His eyelids closed briefly as the drug took effect, a wave of relief washing over him.

When he opened his eyes again, he found Raven looking at him with a thoughtful expression.

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An understanding echoed between them, a silent recognition of the complexities they were navigating.

"Thank you, Raven," Vincent said sincerely. His gratitude was twofold; for her concern and the moment of respite from the storm of questions that wouldn't be possible to answer.

Raven just nodded, releasing the inhaler. "Don't mention it, Sinclair. Just... don't scare me like that again."

Vincent laughed, a genuine sound this time. "I'll try my best."

As if fulfilling some unspoken agreement, Raven walked around the room, a sigh escaping her lips, giving a different weight to the room.

"Alright, Aiden," she began, her voice a strange fusion of severity and fatigue.

Her gaze met Vincent's, the multifaceted glow of her bioengineered eye matching the intensity of the natural look.

"Now that you're up, Sinclair, it's time to do your part. I've been fetching food for the past few days."

Her eyebrows arched at her bold tone, the echo of a smile appearing on his face.

He had always appreciated the blatant honesty that Raven displayed.

The promise of Aiden's memories about her made the situation even more accurate and palpable.

Vincent studied her, noting the slight lift of her eyebrows and the softness of her voice.

It was a momentary crack in her armor, a fleeting glimpse of the burden she carried. "Raven…" he began, not knowing what to say.

In the end, Vincent nodded, a smile hovering at the corners of his lips, a sense of camaraderie intertwining in their interactions. "I guess I owe you one, then," he replied, standing up and stretching.

A sidelong glance at Raven showed that she was watching him with intense focus, a spark of curiosity igniting in her eyes.

He had seen a look in Aiden's memories of intrigue mixed with caution.

"Yes, and there's one more thing," she added, her eyes narrowing slightly.

She waved him over, her demeanor reverting to the composed sharpness he was used to. "And remember Hector?" Her question floated in the air, seeping into the room.

Vincent felt the shadow of a distant and fragmented memory, a knot of entangled events in the web of Aiden's past experiences.

He saw Hector, a shadowy figure in the underworld of Neo-Eden. Hector was a mix of underworld tech business and unwritten codes of conduct.

His stomach tightened at the mention of the name, the shadow of a near-death experience casting a shadow over his thoughts.

She spoke in a low and determined voice, "I require a new neural interface that can withstand the strain of our upcoming job. As you know my preferences, I entrust you with the modification process."

Her fingers flicked in his direction, the glow of transferred credits illuminating the air between them, her financial transaction interface flashing before his eyes.

Vincent's eyes lingered on the wavering credits and then looked inquiring.

"Hector, a grizzled tech broker dealing with cybernetic enhancements and illicit implants." Vincent retrieved the information from somewhere in his brain.

Aiden's last encounter with Hector was a close call - a deal gone wrong.

"Playing with danger, aren't we?" Vincent replied, trying to mask his concern with levity.

It was a skill that Aiden used to use, a defense mechanism to deal with the relentless world they lived in.

Raven shrugged, her features hardened with resolution. "Well, it's not like we have much choice, right?" Her words hung in the air like a challenge that was to be accepted.

"Oh, and grab a few more of those antiviral inhalers. Just in case."

Lost in his thoughts, Vincent looked up, catching her intense gaze.

The prospect of venturing into Hector's domains added another layer of discomfort to the turbulent sea of uncertainties he was navigating.

"Just be careful," Raven added, the concern in her voice palpable, "Hector is not exactly the most trustworthy person. And we all know what happened last time."

Vincent clenched his jaw, his gaze meeting hers, and a chill ran down his spine.

This was the part of his new life he was not prepared for, but there was no choice. It had to be embraced.

The shadow of a worried smile played on Raven's lips, a stark contrast to the constant focus of the eyes. "We don't need to repeat last time. Are you hearing me?"

Vincent swallowed hard, his hand closing reflexively. The idea of dealing with Hector was daunting but necessary for both of them.

"I'll be careful," he replied, his tone hardening his determination.

Vincent knew that to survive in this world, he would have to be ready for anything.

Facing Hector sooner or later was also part of that.

The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable.

They both had roles, secrets to keep, and a life to navigate.

When Raven left the apartment, a pact of silence was sealed, and Vincent found himself alone.

Vincent turned his attention to his left arm, and a restlessness crept into his thoughts.

The mere thought of its capabilities sent a feeling of anticipation down his spine, mixed with dread.

Vincent contemplated the nano-frame armor on his arm.

Despite being labeled as defective by the seller, the armor provided unparalleled protection but could only be sustained for about ten seconds, after which it took three minutes to recharge.

Similarly, the strength amplifiers came with a strong recoil that could cause significant damage to an untrained user.

A life jacket for unexpected situations; after all, the underworld of Neo-Eden was equally cruel and dark.

In his previous life, Aiden learned to circumvent these limitations, using the amplified strength minimally for mundane tasks.

He had adapted slowly, learning almost instinctively to control the reaction.

Now, it was Vincent's turn to master this inherited power.

As his arm relaxed, the nano frame receding under the skin, he marveled at the possibilities.

Even with its flaws, Vincent was amazed at the power granted by cybernetics.

Project 978-X, despite its problematic operational timelines, was a powerful tool at his disposal.

However, the specter of self-destruction loomed over him.

Pushing the amplifiers to their maximum power was like unleashing a cataclysmic event, a whirlwind of energy released that could cause substantial damage.

This realization was a worrying reminder of his precarious situation, a metaphorical sword of Damocles hanging over his head.

Next, he turned to the wardrobe.

"Claire, what do you recommend for today?" He asked, approaching the furniture. "Ah, I don't intend to draw much attention."

"You never want to draw attention, Aiden," Claire replied with a playful tone. "Based on today's forecast and user preferences, I suggest Ensemble #37. Casual but enigmatic enough to blend in with the city's spectrum."

Vincent considered the recommendation, a pleasant sensation creeping up his spine.

It was a simple outfit, but it resonated with the hidden solid currents of his new reality.

Vincent chose a black jacket with subtle reflective patterns, an onyx shirt with cybernetic fiber that adjusted to the ambient temperature, and faded black jeans with pockets for various gadgets.

The clothes were simple but technologically advanced, perfect for blending into the city.

The wardrobe hummed in response, unfolding its armor to present the clothes, their fibers catching the dim light of the room in a discreet glow.

He dressed in the chosen outfit, each piece of clothing molding and adjusting to his form like a second skin.

Each movement was met with a small ripple in the fabric, the adaptive technology silently transforming to assist in his mobility.

A sudden sense of self-consciousness overcame him as he put on the jacket.

He looked at his hands, the skin covered by almost invisible circuits.

Then he looked at his reflection in the mirror, seeing Aiden's face looking back at him.

Despite feeling uneasy, he slowly accepted the face with its sharp features as his own.

A strange duality, a poignant reminder of the fate that had been granted to him.

And yet, there was a sense of acceptance in his gaze, a recognition of the chosen path.

Vincent took one last look at his reflection before turning to the door.

His steps were slow and measured.