The vent shaft ended in a solid wall of steel two levels down. No way through. I muttered a curse, heart hammering as I backtracked. Holy shit, I haven’t moved this much in years. My knees were screaming, my arms sore from dragging myself through the cramped space.

I needed a new plan, fast.

I popped the maintenance panel, the cool air of the corridor hitting me like a slap to the face. Blinking against the sudden brightness, I slid out and landed on my ass, the jarring impact sending a jolt up my spine.

Scrambling to my feet, I glanced around, instincts screaming at me to keep moving.

No time to rest.

The corridor fed straight into the elevator bank where I saw two black armored CorpoSec guards. Augmented limbs flexed as they shifted, rifles slung casually across their backs.

I ducked into a shadowed alcove, the rough wall pressing into my back as I tried to steady my breathing.

The elevator was my only way down to Sub-Level 4, but with them camped out in front of it on each floor, I’d have to get creative. My thoughts flicked back to the vent shaft behind me, the faint metallic groans still fresh in my ears.

Kovach…

The hair on the back of my neck prickled at the memory of his voice, calm and mechanical, telling me to run. If he was still back there, tearing his way through the vents, it was only a matter of time before he caught up.

I gripped the corner of the alcove, the rough edge biting into my palm. Two guards with rifles? Bad. But Kovach? Worse.

At least the guards were… human.

The cameras above the elevator blinked, their faint red lights cutting out one by one, followed by a series of harsh, metallic clanks echoing further down the hall—loud enough to bounce off the walls.

“What the hell?” one guard muttered, raising his rifle.

“System reboot?” the other said, but he didn’t sound sure.

The clanking stopped, replaced by a faint hiss. Steam? Gas? It didn’t matter—it was enough to spook them.

“Check it out,” one barked, nodding down the hall.

The second guard moved, rifle raised, his augmented legs whirring faintly with each step. The first turned to the wall terminal, his back to the elevator as he keyed into the system.

The elevator stood unguarded.

My chance.

I slid out of the alcove, keeping low, steps quiet. The guards didn’t turn.

The card was clipped to a nearby station, sleek black with the Hyperion logo. I snatched it, heart thudding.

The elevator doors loomed ahead. I swiped the card.

ACCESS GRANTED.

The hiss of the doors opening was too loud, but I stepped inside fast, hitting the control for Sub-Level 4.

The guards turned as the doors slid shut.

“Who the hell’s in the elevator?!”

Too late.

The elevator dropped smoothly, the hum of its descent filling the air. My reflection stared back at me from the mirrored walls—sweaty, tense, and very much alive.

For now.

The pass in my hand wasn’t a typical badge. No physical card—just a sleek, digital shard glowing faintly against my palm. Standard CorpoSec clearance, basic but functional. Good enough to get me here.

But as I turned it over, the faint blue glow shifted, morphing into something else. A name materialized across the surface in sharp, glowing letters:

VAyne_E [Override Active]

I smirked, of course it was her. Vayne was a genius—dangerous, unpredictable, and probably the only person in this place with enough skill to hack CorpoSec’s systems without breaking a sweat.

She’d done it again. Just like she’s always done.

The elevator slowed then stopped as the doors slid open. I had never been to the lower levels. It was cold and the air reeked of chemicals that burned the back of my throat.

Section 9... Section 9…

There it is. The letters blinked at me in harsh white light, plastered across a wall that screamed “you don’t belong here.” The place had that fluorescent death glow, that made me feel like a lab rat. Hell they might make me a lab rat if I get caught here.

The hallway ahead was empty—too empty. Clinical white walls stretched out in both directions, broken only by the occasional door marked with indecipherable project codes. No windows, no soul, just cold efficiency. Like the levels above, just worse.

I needed to move.

A storage locker caught my eye, slightly ajar. I pried it open, and there it was: a lab coat, neatly folded, with a name tag clipped to the pocket. Perfect.

Slipping it on, I glanced at the name: Dr. E. Haruto. Didn’t matter who they were—if anyone asked, that was me now. The coat was a size too small, but it covered corpo clothes making me look just sciency enough to keep heads down.

I strode forward, keeping my pace brisk but not hurried. The trick was to look like you belonged—like you were too busy to stop and answer questions.

Or so I learned… on TV when I was a kid.

Every step echoed faintly off the sterile floors, and the further I went, the heavier the silence felt.

The sprawling lab stretched out like something out of a dystopian fever dream—an endless maze of blinking consoles, suspended cables, and glass-walled chambers filled with ominous machinery. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting sharp shadows that danced across the metallic floor.

Just a few more steps, and I’d be at the entrance to Section 9. The glowing letters blinked faintly from across the cavernous space, barely visible through the labyrinth of equipment and workstations.

I moved cautiously, weaving between rows of humming machines. The faint hum of air recyclers and the occasional hiss of pressurized systems filled the space, creating a constant background noise that only made the tension worse.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Then I saw him—a scientist, mid-40s, wearing a slightly rumpled lab coat that barely hung onto his shoulders. His hair stuck out at odd angles, and his glasses looked like they’d seen better days.

He froze when he spotted me, his eyes locking onto the name tag on my chest. His mouth opened slightly, and for a moment, I thought I was done for.

His face lit up like he’d just found the missing piece of the universe.

“You’re… the great Dr. Haruto?” he said, breathless almost reverent, like he was speaking to a living legend.

I nodded. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.”

He squinted, his excitement dimming a bit. “You just… don’t look old enough.”

I swallowed a laugh that threatened to escape. “What can I say? Good genes. Now, what do you need, uh…?”

“I’m Dr. Lin! I’ve been trying to resolve a convergence issue in Lab 6—something with the synaptic stabilizers throwing off the feedback loop. The readings are oscillating between Phase-Shift Instability and a total baseline collapse. Should I recalibrate using sub-neural dampeners, or is a full-core mod reset better?”

What the hell did any of that mean?

I scanned the hallway behind him for labels or clues—anything to get this guy off my back. A rack of equipment caught my eye. The nearest tags read: Phase Coupler, Neural Regulator, and Omega Circuit.

“Uh… use the Neural Regulator to stabilize the Phase Coupler,” I said, gesturing vaguely, “and bypass the Omega Circuit. Should smooth it out.”

His mouth fell open, and for a second, I thought I’d blown it. Then he nodded, eyes wide with reverence. “Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! Thank you, Dr. Haruto!”

He turned and bolted back the way he came, muttering something about genius-level insight.

I let out a shaky breath and kept walking toward Section 9.

Not my circus, not my monkeys. Just gotta get out of here before this place blows up.

I basically ran the rest of the way to the frosted glass doors to Section 9, the faint blue glow behind them casting eerie patterns across the floor. The light shifted as I moved closer, spilling through the haze like something alive, teasing the chaos waiting beyond.

The doors slid open, and I was hit with a blast of air even colder than the already freezing main sublevel.

Inside Vayne’s lab was a storm of tech and brilliance. Holo-screens flickered with endless streams of data creating the dim blue that bathed the room. Counters overflowed with equipment I’d never seen.

She stood near one of the central workstations, her sharp features half-lit by a floating holo-display. Her lab coat was open over a sleek black jumpsuit, and her hair was pulled back, though a few strands had escaped to frame her face.

“Surprised you made it in one piece,” she muttered, not even looking up from the display.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence Elysia,” I said, brushing dust off the lab coat I’d stolen. “And, you know, the distraction. And the keycard.”

Her fingers paused over the holographic controls for half a second—just enough for me to catch—but she didn’t say anything. Classic Vayne.

Then a low, distorted chuckle broke the silence, the sound mechanical and unnerving. My eyes darted to the source, and there he was.

Kovach.

He was already in the room, leaning against one of the counters like he owned the place, his massive frame somehow managing to look casual despite the sheer menace radiating off him. His augmented arm resting idly on the edge.

“Not bad, kid,” he said, his voice filtered through the respirator mask that covered most of his face. “You used the vents. Smart. Chrome like mine’s a little too heavy for that game.”

He tapped the side of his respirator with one finger. “I kinda wrecked that rodent’s office trying to squeeze in. Not that he’ll mind anymore.”

Vayne shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel. “Could you try not to bleed all over my counters?”

I glanced over and, sure enough, there was a faint smear of something dark and oily where his arm rested.

“Sorry, Doc,” Kovach said, not sounding sorry at all as he straightened up.

I looked between the two of them, my brain struggling to catch up. “Wait… are you two… working together?”

Vayne finally looked at me, adjusting her glasses with a huff. “Working with him? Don’t insult me.” She jabbed a finger at me. “If anything, I’m tolerating him because you showed up on every CorpoSec watchlist in the building.”

“What? Me?!” I mockingly asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, you. Did you really think sneaking around like a discount spy wasn’t going to set off every alarm upstairs? You’re lucky I’m the one who caught you first.”

Kovach’s visor pulsed faintly as he turned to me, his voice calm and laced with a hint of amusement. “Not dead yet, rookie. That’s gotta count for something.”

It didn’t feel like it.

I raised my hands, palms out, my voice tripping over itself in the scramble to plead my case. “Look, I don’t know what you think I did, but this isn’t me. Whatever Jacobs was into, I didn’t have a choice—he dragged me into it. I don’t know any of the specifics—”

Kovach held up a hand, silencing me.

“I know you’re innocent,” he said, his voice cutting through my panic. “And your little girlfriend here?” He nodded toward Vayne, who shot him a glare I was typically on the receiving end of. “She’s already on Echelon One’s payroll, so you’re both clear.”

I blinked, stunned into silence for half a second before I opened my mouth again, ready to ask a hundred questions.

“Don’t,” Kovach interrupted, his visor glowing faintly as he leaned forward. “Don’t start begging and make me lose the little respect I have for you.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Okay. So… what now?”

Kovach straightened, his augmented arm resting against the counter, the faint hum of servos filling the quiet. “You’ve been flagged as a ‘potential asset’ by the big boss at Echelon One,” he said, his tone almost casual. “He wants to see how resourceful you are. Consider this a… test.”

A test. Of course it was. My life was a game to these crazy ass people.

Vayne folded her arms, watching me with a mix of curiosity and frustration, but I couldn’t tell which emotion was winning. Kovach tilted his head, the glowing visor locking onto me like a predator sizing up its prey.

The respirator hissed faintly as Kovach tilted his head, visor gleaming. “So,” he said, voice laced with something I couldn’t quite pin down, “don’t screw it up.”

“I don’t like the idea of being a pawn in this game.”

Kovach let out a rasping chuckle. “You’re already a pawn, kid. Difference is, you can be his pawn—a powerful, rich pawn—or you can be a fucking bum shooting up Venom-X and sleeping under a mag-rail overpass. Tough choice.”

“Tough choice,” I echoed dryly. “Guess I’ll take the rich powerful pawn gig… for now.”

He laughed again, a jagged, metallic sound.

“What do I have to do?”

“Well, you’ve already passed the first test,” he said, straightening up. “The boss wanted to see how far you’d make it—if you’d run, get caught, or piss your pants and fold.”

“Fantastic,” Vayne cut in, her tone sharp with sarcasm. “Another lab rat for Hyperion’s little science fair. You must be thrilled.”

I ignored her, my eyes locked on Kovach. “All of this? HQ on lockdown? You crushed Jacobs’ throat like a twig just to recruit me? Seems a little excessive for someone who’s just a glorified paper pusher. I’m not trained, not augmented like you—I’m nothing special.”

Kovach rasped another laugh through his mask, low and guttural. “No… we’re tying up loose ends. Recruiting and crushing traitors in one fell swoop.” He leaned closer. “There’s something you need to understand. The boss doesn’t judge based on deeds. He judges based on potential. He seems to think you have a lot of it.”

Vayne sighed, stepping toward a flickering console. “Enough, both of you. The Neural Insight Integration project wasn’t just invasive—it was weaponized. Experimental tech disguised as R&D. It’s why I’ve been keeping tabs on it.”

“What kind of weaponized?” I asked.

She glared at me. “The kind that digs into someone’s head, extracts memories, rewrites thoughts, and leaves them a hollow husk. Someone from Longyu Conglomerate stole, bought, doesn’t matter, they got their hands on parts of the data—code fragments and smuggled it out. We think they’re still in the city.”

Kovach nodded. “And your final task for the day, rookie, is helping me find him.”

I blinked. “Dude… I’m just an office worker.”

“Not anymore,” he said simply.

Before I could process any of it, a loud alarm began to blare through the lab.

Vayne’s head snapped to one of her screens, fingers flying across a holographic keyboard. Streams of data scrolled faster than I could read.

“Shit,” she hissed. “They’ve called off the CorpoSec teams.”

“That’s good, right?” I asked, my hope barely lasting a second.

Vayne didn’t even look at me. “Sure, if you feel like spending today trapped in this building.”

Kovach shifted, his massive frame moving with unsettling ease as he approached the door. “Lockdown?”

“Lockdown,” Vayne confirmed, glaring at the monitor. “They’re sealing the entire tower. No elevators, no mag-lifts, nothing. We’re about three minutes from being entombed down here.”

“Typical,” Kovach muttered, his respirator hissing faintly.

Vayne yanked a data shard from her terminal and shoved it into my hand. “Here. It’s an override key for Hyperion drones.”

I pocketed the shard. “Thanks, Elysia.”

She turned to Kovach and grabbed a sleek black device with a glowing emblem etched into its surface. “And you—this might help, assuming you don’t break it like the last one.”

Kovach took the device, tucking it into a compartment on his coat. His visor glinted faintly as he looked at me. “Let’s get out of here kid.”

Vayne gave him a sharp look, then glanced back at me. “Collector… try not to get him killed.”

“Cute.” Kovach said with a chuckle. Then motioned toward the door with his augmented arm. “Two minutes. Let’s move. Don’t slow me down, kid.”

I didn’t need to be told twice.