Aurablade

01

There are a few ways to trip the unlock mechanism. I opt for the voltage stealer, placing a dead charging port against the lock. The dead door releases the lock and slowly opens. I slip into a hallway lit in dark-blue light. My cape emits the same shade as I walk through the passage, to a stairwell with a rusted railing. My holographic map pinpoints the location, and I trace a path to the twenty-ninth floor.

I hurry up the stairwell, ducking into corners and behind the stairs anytime a janitor or repair worker passes. My face and cobalt-gray hair shrouded in a wide hood, only those who bother a second glance can distinguish me from my surroundings. Of course, no one does.

A tiny window provides a viewing portal into the twenty-ninth floor hallway. A man passes in an electric blue suit and tie, triggering numbers to flash on every door he passes by. I wait for him to duck inside a room before I steal the electricity from the door and enter the corridor. Not a sound emanates from my boots, even though the floor is solid, dark-gray technoglass. As I pass, the numbers flicker once more.

I stop at number eighteen. For this door, I crouch down and slide a hairline metal twister through the crack. It magnetizes to the door, and I maneuver it higher and higher until three thin prongs close around a metal knob. Twisting it to the right, there's a slight "pop" as the door unlocks. I turn the handle, slipping right into my target's apartment.

I stand in the entrance to the apartment. My chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. It's so quiet, so still, I can feel each inhale of my lungs, each beat in my chest. I poke my head inside, then take a few steps forward. My cloak ensures that I am masked by shadows as I scan the room for signs of life.

Neon pink and blue shines against dark curtains, casting the faintest electric glow on the room. The living space is sparse, just a table and chairs, a couch, a fridge in the corner. I peer into a connecting room on the right, an empty study. The final room on the left brings me into a bedroom, where a man sleeps face down, covered in a blanket.

Warnings flare in my brain. I would expect more of a security detail for a man with two gangs' worth of enemies. Are they in hiding? But no, my hologram confirms that there are only three rooms inside his apartment. Could there be a hidden room unreported to the public? It would make sense from a security standpoint, but also, I would've expected to be caught by now if someone were watching.

I glance around me. I'm alone, except for the sleeping man. Going against every instinct I've learned over the past two years, I slink to his side. My right hand latches around his throat, dragging him upright, while my dagger gleams gold against his throat.

The man jolts awake, tossing the comforter off him. "Huh? Huh?"

My expression sours. This is not the man I seek. He is a mere teen, like me. Shaggy black hair hangs into his round dark eyes, and his scrawny neck squirms to look at me. I keep it angled forward.

"Who are you?" I state flatly.

"T-Talc. Who are you? W-what are you doing here?"

"It's none of your concern anymore." The blade starts a cut into his skin.

"Wait!" Talc raises a large, bony hand overhead. "I'll pay you. Argon has tons of money laying around. He's a very rich man. I'll pay you my next year's worth of salary."

"Your death is more useful than your money."

"I'll stay quiet! I swear it. Not a word about you will leave my lips."

That's what they all say. My eyes roll, but somehow, I hesitate to strike. This is the longest conversation I've had with a target, or in this case, a casualty. Still, his desperation sparks an idea in my head.

I lower my weapon, and the teen breathes a sigh of relief.

"What would you do to save your life tonight?" I ask.

"Anything."

My molars scrape against each other as I think. "How do you know Argon?"

"He's my uncle. He has me watch the place while he's away."

"How often is he away?"

"Most of the time. I don't think he sleeps." Talc forces a chuckle. I remain deadpan.

"Do you have a position at The CryoFuture?"

Talc gives a jolted series of nods.

Nepotism. Figures. Either that or the whole family tree is rotten, and he's just putting on a very good show of naivety.

And yet somehow, he seems convincing, eyes wide in terror and fingers gripping the bedding. His shoulders tremble in the dim light.

I should get rid of him. No witnesses, no mess for later.

But a small part of me remembers the reason why I took this job in the first place. Now that my entire world has been turned on its head, I don't need more necrovolts, more deaths to fuel my way to the underworld. There's no reason to be visiting that dreadful place when Stellae isn't there — at least not until I get some crucial information from The CryoFuture.

"What tier are you?"

He swallows. "Thirty."

Dardroids, that's low. It must really be nepotism. I need someone who can hack and code, or at least someone high enough to access useful information. I do not want a spineless errand boy.

"Tell me." I lean back against the wall, turning my dagger in a glowing, golden circle. "If you're at the bottom tier of your company, what can you do to get me the information I need from the top?"

The slightest of smiles edges Talc's lips. "I can get you anything you want. I know where it all is."

My eyes narrow. "What's your position?"

"Coding department. But I've already hacked my way onto higher levels."

Huh. Maybe he'll be of use after all. I glance around, spotting a laptop shoved under the bed.

"You start tonight," I say, nodding to where the device is. "If you can hack into a higher level by morning, then we'll come to an arrangement. If not, this blade will glow red."