Slowly opening his eyes, Ark came back to reality, sitting in the small room of the service station, hope brimming in his chest. There was a path forward, he could feel it. Regardless of the price he had paid to to get here, the strength he felt coursing through his veins made it all worth it.

That was until he tried to stand up, and a splitting headache sent him reeling. Stumbling, he caught himself by leaning against the wall and immediately ran an internal diagnostic.

Within his netlink, a silent war raged, as the influence from the Neural Network was spreading out and enhancing Ark’s cognitive capabilities. It touched upon all systems within the netlink, and was accepted by almost all protocols—except the small area that Ark had carved out for the daemon that END had given him.

While it felt dormant, it resisted Vanguard’s attempt at linking up with it, and instead created a virtual bubble around itself, attempting to trick the Neural Network into ignoring it.

Unbeknown to Ark, this had been going on since his connection to the system had been established, and the splitting headache came from the virtual game of cat and mouse being played inside his head.

Biting his lip, Ark supported the daemon’s efforts to stay undetected, throwing up a dummy access to distract Vanguard’s probing influence, then he quickly built a virtual copy of the netlink architecture that the system was trying to access and overlaid it onto the area that the daemon resided. Once the system was satisfied that it had gained full access, it relented and Ark’s headache receded.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Ark straightened and squared his shoulders. I made my choice, he thought, I will bear the consequences.

At least, he hoped he would. It worried him that Mino would probably be implicated, should it be discovered that Ark harbored a daemon. He would have to make sure that he alone took the fall, of the worst should happen.

With that resolution, Ark opened the door and stepped out to the hallway, walking back out to the worn-down lobby. He saw Mino sitting there, waiting for him as he came out. Smiling, he waved. “Hey. Did you wait long?”

Getting to his feet, Mino furrowed his brow with worry. “A bit. Did something happen?”

“Kinda,” Ark admitted with a shrug, “I’ll tell you later, alright? Let’s get out of here.”

Mino nodded, and they both excited the old building and walked down the street, back toward the guild. There was an eerie quiet to their surroundings, and no other foot traffic was around.

“So,” Ark said, tone casual, “Did it work for you?”

“Yeah,” Mino said with a sigh, “It feels… weird.”

“What did you pick?”

“Squire. You?”

Ark nodded, having figured it would be Mino’s choice. It made sense for him, considering his physical aspect was already his strongest suit. “Conduit,” he answered, “For now, at least. I think it’s the best way I can add to the team.”

“You think you can convince them to link up with you?” Mino said, a worried tone in his voice.

"Rex will go for it,” Ark said. “She’s pragmatic. She’ll use whatever works."

They crossed an intersection, and Ark thought he could hear the sound of voices in the distance. It was subtle, but it sounded like a lot of people speaking at once.

“I guess.” Mino nodded along. “What skill did you pick?”

“I’ll show you when we get back,” Ark said with a grin, “But I think we stand a real chance of making it. What about you?”

“Something to make up for my slow speed,” Mino said, a confident tilt to his chin, “I’ll show you later, as well.”

“Alright, let’s get back and start train—“ Ark stopped in the middle of the street as they passed a corner, seeing a throng of people held back by barricades and VISOR personnel, standing with riot shields and batons and the ready.

The yelling hit them like a ton of bricks, suddenly washing over them when it had been a low murmur before. The tone was anything but friendly, and Ark got the distinct impression that VISOR were moments from cracking down on the people with an iron fist.

“Shit,” he said out loud, looking around. There was no one outside, except the mob beyond the barricades and VISOR. They should have picked up on the clues, especially considering what had happened on their way here.

“We need to hurry back,” Mino said, eyes darkening, “They’ve tagged us, again.”

Ark saw a VISOR officer glance their way, then make a second take as he studied them.

“You’re right.” Ark gritted his teeth and hurried away from the scene, picking up the pace as he and Mino half-jogged, trying to make it look as casual as possible. “It was the same on the way here. They’ve got bigger problems, why concern themselves with us?”

“You think it’s got something to do with what happened at the docks?” Mino said while moving forward at an impressive pace.

“The docks? What do you—Oh…” Ark nearly stopped in his tracks as cold sweat starting to run down his spine. If the VISOR officer he had bribed at the docks had kept tabs on them and discovered they were suddenly guild trainees, it did not take much of a logical leap to realize that Ark had held back on him. “This could be bad.”

“Not if we get back to the guild,” Mino reasoned, “They won’t try anything as long as we’re part of it.”

“No, they won’t,” Ark agreed, mouth running dry from both physical exertion and the terror hooking itself onto the back of his head, “But if we flush out, there’s no place to hide.”

“There’s the dusk district,” Mino said with a grimace, “But yeah. Best not flush out, right?”

“Right.” Ark gritted his teeth and began running, especially after seeing a second point barricaded by VISOR, with the shouting of people growing louder the further out of the central district they went.

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Nearly sprinting across the plaza in front of the guild, Ark and Mino only slowed down when they were inside the main lobby, hunching over and breathing hard to catch their breath. The guard’s at the guild door had given them strange looks, but they were in the system now—no one would stop a guild member from entering.

“Ark, Mino—You two alright?” A voice down toward the main desk spoke softly but with obvious worry.

Ark looked up to find the lobby strangely empty, considering the hubbub that had been a constant here ever since they entered the guild. Walking toward them at a brisk pace, Pathfinder Matthews looked harried, with his usually crisp uniform slightly out of order and crumpled in places.

“Yeah, we’re…” Ark tried to formulate a response, but could not come up with a reasonable explanation for running. “We saw the protests,” he finally said, giving it his most honest facial expression.

“I see,” Matthews nodded, “I guess you’ve been on the other side of a VISOR barricade before.”

They both nodded. They had seen what VISOR did when their patience ran out. Patience was no a virtue that VISOR officers put much stock in.

“As long as you’re here, there’s nothing to worry about,” Matthews said, checking his watch.

“What’s happening?” Ark said, wanting to know more, even if he could guess most of what was going on.

“You heard about the explosion?”

“We were outside when it happened,” Ark agreed, “We saw it.”

Matthews made a face and shook his head. “Then you’ve probably guesses its the Fingers that are making a mess of things again. The factory they blew a hole in is mostly automated, but a lot of people were pushed into the fire control and salvage operations, which caused several casualties. Lowtowners blame VISOR and Central Command—it’s getting ugly.”

“Is there… anything we can do?” Ark said, hesitantly, looking to Mino. His friend’s jaw was clenched, and his fist was tight.

“You?” Matthews blinked at them, then smiled tiredly. “No, you are trainees—you have your duties. Leave this to the authorities, and it’ll be settled quickly. In fact, I was on my way to the mess hall for an emergency broadcast from Central Command; would you like to join me?”

Ark and Mino looked at each other, then both nodded at Matthews. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

Smiling, Matthews shook his head. “No need to ‘sir’ me, you two, not when we’re not in an official setting. Let’s go.” He led them toward the elevators, up the building and into the mess hall that was now packed with guild members. Most were sitting at the tables, but many had to stand, including some of Ark and Mino’s teammates. Ark saw Ran stand behind Naomi, who was seated, while both Rex and and Jenson stood by the wall.

All were looking toward a series of holo screens that had appeared down the center line of the hall, currently fuzzing with static. After a few moments of waiting, though, a crisp image snapped into focus, centered on a man in a military uniform with a chest sprawling with commendations, standing behind a wooden podium with the symbol of Vanguard in the background—a star set in a V pattern.

Ark recognized him immediately as the current Adjudicator, the general with the highest rank from Central Command. While the men and women of that group were the most powerful individuals, politically, on Vanguard, they seldom showed themselves to the public, which was why Ark had a hard time remembering the man’s name.

Clearing his throat, he began to speak, “Citizens of Vanguard. In the last couple of days, unrest has been brewing among our brethren of Lowtown. The terrorist organization known as ‘The Fingers’ have committed heinous acts against their fellow man in the pursuit of their own selfish goals and wicked ideology.” He held the camera with his brown eyes, face set in marbled stone with the many years of service etched into the lines of his cheeks and jaw. This was a man used to giving commands and seeing them followed.

After a theatrical pause, the Adjudicator drew back and straightened. “Central Command is taking this security threat very seriously, and therefore we have set down a task force from Operational Command to take charge of this disruption. If it is war the the Fingers desire, then war we shall give them. I will now hand the floor to the person in charge of this effort.”

Stepping aside, he gestured for someone out of frame to step forward. When the person was revealed, Ark felt it like a punch to the gut and sucked in his breath with surprise.

With calm and controlled movements, a woman with white hair set into a bun and blue eyes looking straight into the camera lens stepped up and placed a small brief on the table before her. She held the gaze of all the people of Vanguard before she spoke.

“My name is Sylvia Leen, I hold the rank of Strider, and I will be in charge of our efforts to calm the situation in Lowtown.”

It felt surreal to see her again like this. Two years had passed since Ark had seen Sylvia last, and she looked exactly like he remembered. He knew she was in her late thirties, but like always she looked to be in her early twenties—a testament to her psionic strength that kept her young.

Feeling an arm shaking him, Ark looked up at Mino, who looked back with as much shock in his eyes as Ark felt. “Is that really…?”

“Yeah,” Ark said, distracted for a moment, “Yeah, that’s her alright.” They both went silent as they drank up her statement to the holo screen, as if she was talking directly to them.

“—for years now, The Fingers have operated in the illicit trade within Lowtown’s underground, despite VISOR’s best efforts to root them out. With their latest provocation, Central Command has ordered Operations to put an end to their subversion of Vanguard’s laws. I aim for this effort to be swift and judicial.”

Her hard tone was one Ark had heard before, when she was speaking about the rules that everyone had to follow, and he remembered how her certainty in their absolute authority had been inspiring, back when he only knew of The Maze.

Now, though, he saw the cracks in the argument that only life in Lowtown would help you see. He had seen how the absolute rules she had always championed had been turned and twisted to suit VISOR officers or lazy magistrates. Feeling a pit opening in his stomach, Ark understood that a gulf separated himself from Sylvia’s ideals. He had seen to much to believe in the law alone.

When her eyes turned soft, though, and a slight smile appeared in the corner of her lips, he recognized the woman who had imparted the most important lessons of life to him.

“To every citizen of Lowtown; while I promise you justice for The Fingers, I also promise that your voice will be heard in the process. People have died who did not need to die, this is true. I will personally hold those responsible for the tragic loss of life accountable for their actions, and ensure the law is upheld equally, no matter the backgrounds of those I must pursue.”

She leaned forward, eyes boring into the lens until Ark felt certain she was talking directly to him. “I know that trust takes time, and therefore my first priority will be to settle the unrest in the streets. As of today, a curfew has been imposed across Lowtown from 10 PM to 5 AM, where all work will be halted. I ask that you go home and await further news, before resuming your protests. Give me time, and I promise you a swift resolution to this conflict.”

With those words, she gave the camera a slight bow. A chorus of questions rang out from behind the camera, and the view changed, showing a gathering of people on chairs, holding up their hands for the chance to question Sylvia.

When she finally straightened and pointed at the first questioner, a woman stood up among the reporters and said, “This is not the first time that unrest in Lowtown has put all of Vanguard at risk. How do you intend to prevent this from escalating further, or if successful, how do you prevent it from happening again?”

“Thank you for the question,” Sylvia said, nodding, “I believe that we have been too reliant on punishing those responsible, rather than solving the root cause of the issue. I will therefore be reaching out to local leaders across Lowtown and speak to them about their needs, in order to create a better solution for the future.”

Several other questions ensued, all of which Sylvia answered with the precision of a knife, cutting down the superfluous sentiments that some questioners referred to and getting to the heart of the matter. Things had to change.

Hope flickered in Ark’s chest, a rare warmth amidst the cold reality. But as Sylvia’s words faded, END’s voice crept back into his mind, chilling that hope until it was nothing but a ghost. You will come to see things my way. Who was right? Ark was not sure.

Then, Sylvia pointed to one more reporter and said, “Last question, go ahead.”

“Thank you, Strider,” the reporter said, standing, “Considering the state of Lowtown at the moment, there have been rumors of two new rift eggs appearing in the underground markets. Does Operational Command have any intention of claiming these?”

That stopped Ark dead, and his breath caught. Could it be…?

With a tight smile, Sylvia Leen leaned forward and said, “No comment.”