State Poland, Highway A4, Neutral Territories
Team Ghost of the Future, August 15, 2049, 4:21 PM
Finding the Linkers in vast reaches of TACTA’s network wasn’t difficult. Curiously, they were now showing up as an official clan, with Lena Stormchaser as their leader. Max had no doubt it was them — he knew the “kitty’s” partner ID, just as her real last name, Friedman.
“Huh, when we last parted ways, they were still a team, and now it’s already a clan... making quick strides,” he thought, intrigued.
Max settled into his seat, positioning his mediaphone with the camera in front of him. The rest of the team gathered behind the guy, sitting on the bed in the cabin of the truck. Only Alisa was out of frame, busy at the charging station, topping up her batteries before the mission.
Sending a call request, Maksim didn’t expect a quick response — yet almost instantly, an incoming call mediaglyph blinked in HUD. Lena’s image popped up on the screen in AR, looking as if she’d just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. No trace of recent combat, the harrowing escape from occupied Kyiv, or the long, perilous journey in a stealth mode — that’s pure media pro for you.
She wore a subtly alluring cyber-pop outfit, with her usual bright pink hair, cybernetic cat ears, a mischievous look in her eyes, and playful colorful stars winking on her cheeks. A broad smile revealed pristine implanted fangs. Like a vibrant butterfly, Lena stood out sharply against the drab gray wall — possibly in a hostel similar to Maksim’s.
“Long time, no see, nya! Glad to see you… still alive. Hey, Dasha! Yo, Nika!”
“Hey, Lena,” Max nodded and got straight to the point. “I’m glad you’re all safe too. And that I managed to catch you. I’ve actually got a proposal I think you’ll find intriguing.”
She raised an eyebrow, resting her cheek on her fist, and playfully twitched one of her cybernetic ears.
“Oh, a proposal, nya?” she purred, her voice low and slightly teasing. “Well, well, that really is intriguing. Go on, I’m all yours… Uhm, I mean, my full attention is all yours.”
Maksim smirked slightly at this blatant flirting. He knew perfectly well that behind the “cat-girl” image lay calculated strategies, analytical moves, and long-term plans. This playful act was just her public mask. Then again, sometimes those masks stick so tightly that it’s hard to tell where the act ends, and the real person begins. But now wasn’t the time for philosophical musings; he brushed aside these stray thoughts and refocused on the conversation.
Dasha, on the other hand, wasn’t amused at all. She muttered something under her breath in irritation and pulled out her vape to calm her nerves.
“Imagine an advanced AI,” Max began his pitch, “that integrates itself between the user’s sub-brain implant and TACTA’s data structures through the API. It fully understands the nuances of every level within the partner network, analyzes user achievements, helps set goals, and builds strategies to achieve them. And finally, it boosts skill growth — yes, even those ones that my team, thanks to Dasha, now refers to as the ‘magic’ abilities.”
“By the way, Max forgot to mention,” Nikola chimed in, “that this thing was also trained on a military tactical command complex. Plus, Dasha did an amazing job combing through all the corporate combat interface documentation I had in my archive — the specs, use cases, all that stuff. So, for anyone with the right experience and implants, using the System in combat should be easy and intuitive. I’ve tested it. A lot.”
“Well, it’s still in beta… but it’s evolving every day, so… yeah,” Dasha mumbled, blushing slightly, wanting to set expectations straight. In her mind, the System was still far from complete, and she just had to be upfront about that.
The “kitty’s” face grew thoughtful as she quickly glanced somewhere off-screen. It was obvious she wasn’t alone in the room, and likely engaged in a private communicating with her teammates. Noticing the pause, Maksim decided to intensify his pitch, both to make a stronger impression and to give them a moment to discuss his offer as he continued the presentation.
“I think you understand how valuable this could be in today’s environment,” he said. “The System acts as a coach that helps you achieve peak results — in personal skill growth, leveling up, team management, and beyond. The gamification elements are fully customizable or can even be switched off completely. As Nikola mentioned, there’s a combat module. Plus, there are features like team budget management, crafting modules, and many other tools. As you can imagine, we’re just getting started, but the results are already impressive. And, yeah, I know the name ‘System’ sounds a bit strange, but…”
Lena fluttered her lashes and flashed him a playful smile.
“Max, sweetie, you’re talking to a cat-girl, nya. A System? That’s a beloved and classic, even if a bit overused, trope in fantasy and sci-fi — practically standard by now. And that’s exactly its power, especially now that book tropes have barged straight into our lives — power-hungry aliens, monster invasions, all that jazz. Oh, darling, you don’t even realize how crucial it is to harness the power of familiar symbols. Who came up with this? An absolute genius, nya?”
Dasha flushed completely red and, not knowing what else to do, quickly scooted out of the frame and took a deep drag on her vape to calm herself down.
A genius, indeed. He chuckled, recalling how WonderKid had always been a bit embarrassed about her love for LitRPG novels, meticulously hiding it. Yet without a second thought, she’d gone ahead and started programming her favorite book plot. And yes, she was a genius. Plenty might have had the idea, but who could pull it off? Only Vasilevskya… with Alisa’s help… and Nika’s expert knowledge. But, at the core, it was Dasha’s idea, from the start.
“You’re right — WonderKid really is a genius,” Maksim nodded. “By the way, if you’ve got anyone on your team with the ‘Foresight’ attribute, this System could be a total game-changer for you.”
Lena pursed her lips, drumming her fingers on the table. “Oh? And how would you know we have one?”
Max paused for a moment. “I didn’t say you had one. Just said that if you do, it’d be… amazing.”
“Hah. Nice one,” she replied, with a playful wink. “Well, I guess, there’s no keeping it under wraps forever. We do have a team member with that skill. And you know what they just told me?”
“What exactly?” Max decided to play along with the ‘cat-girl’.
“They said that we shouldn’t become your clients.”
“I don’t get it,” the guy frowned. “Why not?”
The ‘kitty’ leaned forward, her voice suddenly taking on a serious tone. “Because we should be your business partners.”
“Partners?” The idea was intriguing, even if unexpected. Max felt a wave of excitement, and glad that the whole team could hear this — it was a strong business opportunity. But first, he wanted to get all the details.
“Yes, precisely,” she smirked. “We’re also not just sitting around here, you know. My brother and I launched our own startup. Guess what it is?”
“You really want me to play guessing games?”
She laughed.
“Oh, you’re no fun. Fine, I’ll give you a hint. We’re bloggers, with a tech-savvy team. Living in the middle of an apocalypse. There’s theoretically communication infrastructure, but it’s in rough shape. Any guesses yet?”
Max shrugged, “I’m guessing your idea’s better than my guesses.”
“But of course! We’re creating a Media Station. Like good old radio! You see, weapons and implants are essential now, sure, but people also need social connections and information. And most importantly — emotions! We’re going to deliver news — both good and bad — along with forecasts, podcasts, music… and even simple words of encouragement. Just watch, we’re going to become a cornerstone of the ‘freemen’ culture!”
Her face lit up with the very emotions she’d just been talking about, and a predatory smile spread on her lips.
“The Protectorate has a mountain of propaganda and even a primary public figurehead — Sophia-Elisabeth Meyers. But the Freemen? They’ll have a pink-haired kitty who says ‘nya’ and delivers critical analytics… in a way that anyone can get.”
Lena paused briefly, flashing the neon lights on her cyber-ears before moving on to her proposal.
“And, of course, we’ll have room for advertising. No one will market your System better than we will.”
Suddenly, the playfulness vanished, replaced by a calculating look and the confident tone of someone used to giving orders.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Now, about our collaboration terms: we want franchising rights. And, of course, full access to the latest releases. We’d also like to have a say in the pricing for each product tier as you develop them — you’re planning to offer access levels based on cost, aren’t you? Well, and naturally, we’d expect a referral commission on sales.”
The “kitty” paused, awaiting his response. Max narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, studying her.
“All right, Lena,” he replied after a moment. “That’s an interesting proposal. But, as I’m sure you understand, I can’t give you an answer right away. We’ll need to discuss it as a team. I’ll get back to you once we’ve made a decision… if that works for you.”
She brought back her trademark mischievous smile.
“Of course, handsome, I completely understand! Go ahead, work out the details, discuss it with your team, and consider the possibilities I’ve laid out. From what I’ve gathered, you’ve got a pretty sharp crew. Surely, you’ll make the right call. And don’t disappear on me either — regardless of your answer, I’d love to see you again!”
Lena disconnected, her image fading in the AR. Almost immediately, Dasha burst out:
“I don’t like her! She’s… bad! I’m not giving her my System! Yeah!”
“Don’t worry, WonderKid,” Max reassured her, completely unaware of Dasha’s real reasons for disliking the ‘cat-girl’. “Of course, we’re not handing over any serious control over the System. She’s just talking about creating a range of access levels for the modules, with different account types at different prices. It’s marketing…”
Alisa shot him a look that nearly screamed, “Are you seriously that clueless, big brother?” but kept quiet. Meanwhile, Nikola just pretended not to notice Lena’s flirtations — after all, the Linkers’ leader was somewhere far away, while Max was right here. With her.
“All right, let’s leave the thorough System discussion for tomorrow, when we’re not on the brink of a mission. But we still have about fifteen minutes to spare — I might try reaching out to Miro, not so much for future sales but for hardcore field-testing. The Professor’s a proactive man, so I’m sure he’d have plenty of material for developing and training the System.”
Dasha scooted closer, having already put her vape away.
“That’s actually a really good idea. I mean, about Miro... Even without expanding Moira’s power, the System could now easily handle twenty more users, at least. I can’t give an exact number yet, but we’ll know once we test it. Plus, the more diverse data the System gets, the smarter it becomes, yeah. Connecting Miro’s team would be a huge advantage for us! It’s like… a beta test! And troubleshooting. And refinement, all in one.”
Vasilevskaya reached for her vape but stopped, suddenly remembering something.
“Oh, the most important thing — I almost forgot! I, um… made a few tweaks to Moira’s architecture. Just a small update… After a big part of her load got… you know, freed up. So, we’re almost ready to scale up now. All we need now is some new hardware. And as we add more users, we’ll see exactly how much resource each account needs and how much we’ll need to boost our power. Yeah.”
“Daria’s downplaying her work, as always, Maksim,” said Alisa, still connected to the charging station. “I thought she’d be developing the Attributes interface and Crafting module, but instead, while you guys were unloading the truck, she jumped right into the DeepVR, activated her newly acquired super-magic-skill, and immediately got to work on the Core Architecture. And yes, it really does look like Magic. I was watching. With all my threads. I think she deserves some official recognition.”
Max stood up and approached Dasha, who, suddenly panicked, and tried to shrink into the farthest corner of the small bed.
“You’re amazing,” he said, leaning down to hug the flustered girl. “You’re brilliant. Tomorrow, you’ll tell me everything you did, okay? And for now, just know, I’m really grateful for everything you do for us. When we get back, I’ll find the best cake in Rzeszów for you. I’m sure they’ve got some.”
“I… I’m doing my best,” Dasha squeaked. “Thanks… yeah.”
“And that’s wonderful. Now, while we still have a little time, I’ll go see if I can get some data from Miro for you.” Maksim smiled, standing up and returning to his seat.
Nikola turned away quickly to hide her smile, while Alisa barely restrained herself from a classic facepalm. Cake? Really? That’s right, he was utterly hopeless.
----------------------------------------
Before calling, Maksim found Miro’s profile in the TACTA Partners database by his ID.
“Wow! He’s already established a full guild — the “Balkan Serpents.” Impressive! Then again, his crew was quite large from the beginning, so I guess it’s only natural.”
“Hey, Max, here — take this quick presentation on the System,” Alisa’s voice chimed in. “I threw it together quickly, using four threads. Something tells me you’ll be explaining it a lot, and this way, you’ve got a base to work from. We can refine it later, but even this version will be helpful in negotiations for now.”
“Thanks, sis,” he smiled, opening the file. “Yeah, it’s got everything. An overview of what it is, core objectives, modules and functions, use scenarios…”
Settling comfortably into his chair, Maksim sent a call request through the TACTA network. The response came within about thirty seconds. Miroslav Goric appeared on the screen, looking as familiar as ever — steely eyes, a firm expression, and that unique blend of severity and intellect belonging to someone who was once a social anthropology professor and a recipient of numerous prestigious awards, and now was leading one of the largest organized crime groups in Eastern Europe. Judging by the video, he was driving an SUV somewhere.
“Well, look who it is, Chernykh Jr.,” he greeted. “It’s been a day and a half, yet it feels like a lifetime since that escape from Kyiv. Are you here for business or just to catch up? And hey there, Red. Still sticking with this rascal, I see?”
Max nodded with a reserved smile, and Nikola just waved at the camera.
“Mostly business. How are things on your end? Did you make it where you planned? And I see you’ve already established a guild?”
“Oh yeah!” Miro smirked. “The Balkan Serpents are all set up here. We’ve run a couple of missions to settle in. Now we’re gearing up for bigger things — buying equipment and weapons, tuning up, and training. You know, leading a major guild feels a bit like playing an MMORPG. I actually studied those things ages ago. But TACTA’s interface… it’s honestly pretty clunky, more like a temporary placeholder UI. Tons of features, but they’re all accessible through command lines only. Well, my analytic boys are already digging into it, though. I’m just sharing impressions here, to blow off some steam, so to say.”
Maksim gave a quick nod, studying him.
“Actually, I’ve got a proposal for you. My team’s developed a System — a full-featured software with everything you need, including interfaces. Guild management is on the way, though right now it’s only set up for groups. I don’t even have a clan myself, so there’s no way to test that part yet.”
Miro squinted, examining the virtual screen where Max had pulled up Alisa’s presentation.
“A System? Like the ones from books and video games? Kid, you do realize that sounds a bit… fantastical?”
Max smiled.
“Just wait until you see it in action. This is more than just an AI with an interface. It’s an intelligent assistant that not only tracks tasks and mission progress but also helps develop new abilities including those that have been awakening in people recently. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of them. And yes, it’s as fantastical as it sounds.”
The leader of Balkan Serpents smirked, mulling over Max’s words.
“Let’s just say I’m aware. All right, an assistant, huh? Sounds tempting. So, what’s the catch? You want us to be your guinea pigs?”
“Not exactly. I’m offering you a chance to try it. Consider it a real-world beta test in combat conditions. Free of charge. We’re ready to issue twenty keys, enough for twenty users. Moira will handle the data processing; you already know what she’s capable of. Try it for a week — if you’re not impressed, you can simply opt out. And of course, your feedback will be prioritized in further updates.”
The former professor drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, then crossed his arms, clearly on edge.
“So, what? You’re saying all the data on my guys’ activities would be going somewhere else? Don’t get me wrong, I trust you personally. But this is a much bigger issue. You understand, in the current climate, that kind of information is an incredibly valuable asset. I’ve got enough enemies as it is, and I don’t expect to have any fewer after the invasion. And I have no intention of giving the Protectorate any kind of advantage against us either. We really gave them hell during our escape, you know. Thus, I don’t like this one bit.”
Max sighed, already prepared for this objection. But before he could say anything, Alisa stepped forward, having even left the charging station for this conversation.
“Good afternoon, Professor Goric. A few words, if I may.”
“For heaven’s sake, Alisa, I know who you are, and I know that Maksim managed to ‘bring you to life in the hardware.’ So, please, drop the formalities — it actually stings a little, honestly. I can still remember when you were just a tiny girl, sitting on my lap…”
“Okay, Uncle Miro,” she said with a smile. “Especially since it really is me. So, here’s the breakdown — initial data goes through light processing by your team’s sub-brain implants and is sent to us via a secure TACTA P2P connection. The chance of interception at that stage is zero. After that, Moira’s intelligent agents depersonalize, tag, and prepare the data for training. The only moment anyone could even try to intercept it would be right there…”
[Maxie!] Dasha messaged him privately, listening carefully from her corner. [The data is processed on a quantum level. Pulling it out from there is total hardcore… even for me! Just make sure to tell him that — I’m too scared of him to say it myself!]
[Thanks, WonderKid. Will do!]
“But understand,” Max added, “for anyone to intercept, they’d have to be connected to our System in real time, have root-level access, know its architecture inside out, pinpoint the exact processing locations, and perform the extraction… on a quantum level.”
“Not even we could do that, even with full access,” Alisa concluded.
“Miro, let’s be real. Your crew’s battle data’s gonna leak no matter what,” Nikola cut in. “All it takes is showin’ up in open missions. Practically every one of them makes you stream from drones while you’re on the job. I poked around the Informatorium — it’s not just here in our city, it’s like that everywhere in TACTA’s public assignments. Guess that’s just the way they play it now.”
“She’s right,” Max picked up. “Both our missions required streaming, and from the look on your face, I’d bet it’s the same on your end too. And no one really knows where that footage ends up or what they do with it. Am I wrong?”
Miro nodded slowly, but his face remained serious and furrowed.
“And you want me to believe our data would stay with you?” he said, stubbornly holding his ground to have the last word.
“Yes, Professor Goric. I swear on my father’s good name,” Maksim replied firmly. “And think about it — this is a huge edge for you. Your people are going to unlock System abilities. You’ll need us, at the very least, to develop those. Plus, you’re getting a tactical AI crafted to corporate military standards and fine-tuned for integration with the Informatorium.”
“Maksim sounds like a tempting devil,” Alisa commented under her breath, chuckling into her fist.
“When your people gain new powers, they’ll become stronger, Miro. Just giiiive me your sooooul,” Nikola added in a low, raspy voice, playing along with a mischievous grin.
Miro stared at them tensely for a few more seconds before finally allowing himself to laugh.
“All right, you guys know how to make a pitch. But don’t let me down, Max. Remember, I’m holding you to your word!”
Maksim simply nodded in acknowledgment.
“Thank you for the trust. We’re heading out on a mission now — the truck’s already here. But by tomorrow morning, you’ll have full access. Just send me the IDs of your people you want connected. Up to twenty. Good luck out there, Miro.”
The call ended, and Max leaned back in his chair, feeling a deep, satisfying sense of accomplishment from a well-executed team effort. And this time, it wasn’t even on the battlefield — a success that, in many ways, felt even more significant.