Light reaches across my face, pressing gently on my closed eyes. I nestle my head further into my pillow to flee from morning's gentle touch. Exhaustion hits my body so hard it feels like a truck ran me over in forward and reverse. I moan through my pillow.
"Ugggh."
I hit an upholstered headboard with my hands and feel its cushiony surface. It has a button pattern stretching across it that my fingers dip in and out of. Its length is well beyond my wingspan. This bed is huge. It feels like a cloud underneath me but the fact that it's a stranger's and not mine makes it uncomfortable.
I likely won't be returning home anytime soon but that's not my biggest concern. I'm worried about my mother. I put her life and mine in danger, all for a stupid coding project. Just thinking about it makes my heart twist painfully. She could be in the hands of Phantom right now. The first thing I should do is check my telescreen. Maybe she called or messaged me.
I push myself up on my elbows and force my eyes open in search of my backpack. Piercing light floods the left side of my vision, hammering my head and temporarily blinding me. RAM, it's bright. What time is it? My bio clock reads the time in my peripheral vision. The blue font displays 10 am and beside it the hours of sleep I got, 5 hours and 32 minutes. Not enough to feel well rested but this isn't a weekend lounge fest. I need to get up, I need to make a plan, starting with finding my mother, then tracking the BUB massacre case to find Phantom.
I rip the covers off me and my eyes adjust instantly thanks to my biotech software, Thrive. My father got paid well as a Watchman, so I can see how we could afford the diamond package when he was around. As for my mother, I don't know how she rolled in funds to keep us on the package if she wasn't working for the government. Perhaps she had some kind of shady side hustle as a hacker I wasn't aware of. Either that or she simply worked a normal job on the side of her involvement in Firewall. She is capable of anything she puts her mind to, there's no doubt about that.
Sky reports my vitals for the morning below my clock. Everything looks normal, which is crazy considering I was in a car crash yesterday. The medicine L gave me couldn't have been enough by itself. I know I have a good health package that quickens my body's recovery but I've never been in any situation to see it in action. I wonder how much I can take before really getting knocked out.
I look around the room to find the source of light coming from the glass door on my life. The black curtains are drawn back, allowing the sun to flood the room with piercing light. The bonsai plant across from me soaks up the light on a slick, black table. Its cluster of leaves reflects the golden rays. Black and white marble swirl on the wall behind it, spreading across the whole wall. The marble stops at the right corner of the room, where black panels branch off from it. A white leather chair pops against the dark background. Beside it hangs a massive mirror with impressive, white quartz framing.
I raise my eyebrows seeing my reflection. Half of my hair is in a ponytail while the rest is either wrapped around my neck in a twisted scarf or stuffed in the back of my bomber jacket. Good thing I didn't walk out like this for L to see.
His face flashes before me and I pull the covers close to me. He was alluring and eccentric. I've never seen anyone that looks like him. The white hair and cyan eyes was beautiful and could stop anyone in their tracks. He was an incredible fighter, too. That was the closest I've ever been to rape but he saved me. I've never been more terrified and helpless in my life. The gun in my mouth, the hands on my body-I was overwhelmed with fear. It felt as though I was trapped in a dark cloud and unable to see or feel anything else.
But when I saw L beating the crap out of him, light broke through. I've never been so relieved to see someone I barely knew before. I still don't understand the joy I felt in that moment seeing him. I slowly sink into my pillow and the soft fabric absorbs my tears.
L could have pulled out a gun when he first saw my assaulter and it would have been the easiest and smartest thing to do. But he didn't. His first reaction was unleashing his wrath, and it was a far better response, one I needed more than a quick save. He reinforced the act to be terrible and deserving of justice while saying I was worth putting himself at risk fighting with his bare hands.
A sudden impulse comes over me to jump out of bed and find him so I can embrace him.
I need to thank him. I need to thank him at least a hundred times.
My eyes land on the bedside table, and my thoughts come to a staggering halt when I see a beautiful breakfast plate waiting for me.
What is this?
I get on my hands and knees and crawl to it, excitement and hunger gnawing at my stomach as I move. Steams roll off the scrambled eggs and a colorful assortment of berries and fruit are stacked next to the toast. Butter and strawberry jam is spread across the toast in mind-blowing, perfect layers. Wings of berries unfold on both sides of the toast, consisting of red and black raspberries, blueberries, and strawberries. Vibrant orange slices hem in the berry wings and are positioned around them like rays of sunshine.
It is the most perfect breakfast plate I have ever laid eyes on.
Did L make this for me?
My mouth parts further when I find a light green stem curling around my fork and lavender flowers peaking by its head.
A flower, too...?
I carefully pick up the fork, feeling my heart flutter strangely as I smell the lavender. It's sweet and fresh, carrying faint mint undertones. I flush at the memory of L's warm, gloved hand on my face. I hear his light and dark laughter and can still feel his warm hands in my hair. My mind turns from wandering to wondering.
Was there more to his actions than I realized? It can't be...right? I'm thinking too much about this. He did a kind and thoughtful thing for me by making me this breakfast. It must have taken him a while to make everything look so perfect. I should eat it before it gets cold so his efforts aren't wasted.
Desiring not to crush the flower, I unravel it from the fork and lay it on the table before digging in. The eggs are light and fluffy, full of flavor. The berries burst in my mouth with sweet and sour exclamations. I moan with delight and throw another handful in my mouth. It's so good. Where did he get all of these berries? Were they in the kitchen already or did he go to a market?
I reach for the coffee mug and when I bring it to my lips, I taste the exact balance of coffee and milk I would make for myself. Just to make sure I'm not imagining things, I take another sip.
Not too strong, not too milky. It's just right.
That's weird...I pull the mug away for my lips to inspect the color. It's the same light toffee brown, too. It has to be a coincidence or just dumb luck. How could he know the right balance? He hasn't made my coffee before.
My eyes widen landing on the flower. Isn't lavender my favorite flower? I slowly pick it up and twirl it in my fingers. He wasn't just protecting me those three years, he was watching me...very closely. My heart begins to pick up speed with my thoughts. Why would he pick up on those things?
I've just been his job for these three years. It sounded like he got into danger to protect me. If anything, I'm probably a headache and the source of his troubles. I know I'm responsible for the trouble we're in now. He must have anything but warm feelings for me.
But why else would he know how to make my coffee and know my favorite flower? The laugh, the hands in my hair, the flower...am I taking things out of context?
Three years he watched me as my bodyguard. That's a long time...I imagine his celestial eyes on me without my knowledge and cry softly. The covers fly behind me as I flee to the bathroom and flames rise out of my chest and face.
What all did he see? I throw cold water on my face. Did he watch me change? Did he watch me sleep? I yank the towel off the hanger and bury my face into it. I cry again into the towel picturing his grin from last night.
Did he...like watching me?
With shaking hands, I slowly remove the towel from my face. Not only is my face red but it's clear of bruises. The bruise mender he applied and the medicine he gave me for my head helped perfectly. I no longer feel pain yet my heart is racing the more I think.
How could he fall for someone who didn't know he existed for three years? How could he watch me that closely to know I stopped to smell lavender on my way to work and didn't like my coffee too bitter? It's stalker-like and creepy. Yet...strangely endearing. I didn't think it was possible for anyone to pick up on those little details about me. I thought only the Creator was capable of such attention. Am I that fascinating?
Maybe he didn't realize he was doing it. The careful observation isn't out of the ordinary for a bodyguard. I suppose all bodyguards are stalkers. He had to pay attention to me. It would be natural for him to pick up on my behavior.
I can get past the breakfast with that way of thinking but that's about it.
The laugh...the hands in my hair. It's screaming something more. Maybe the close observations were intentional. Even if they were, I can't stay in conflict with it though it is strange. He was defending my life all that time, and based on my interactions with him, he seems to be a caring person. If my father and mother trusted him to look after me, he must be great in their eyes.
I don't know much about L but if he cared for me from afar without receiving anything in return...doesn't that make him selfless? Knowing what I know now, doesn't that make him loving to care about me the way he has, knowing I couldn't match his love or affection?
I rub my neck looking at myself in the mirror. I trace the flame tattoo but my mind pictures my fingers tracing his, then his face. A shaky sigh leaves me.
What in the world? What's getting into me?
I squeeze my eyes shut in hopes that the memory from last night leaves my mind but when I open my eyes, it hangs in front of me like my own reflection.
I wonder if it was a mistake that I removed his hand from my face. I felt as though I was staring at a constellation instead of a human. The way he tilted his head and grinned at me, just upon my thank you, makes me wonder how he would respond if I were to say or do something more. My stomach turns when I hear his low voice call my name.
"Raven?"
I'm sure my mind is playing tricks on me as it has been all morning. But when he repeats my name and sounds closer in proximity, I realize he is actually coming toward me.
Frock! The door!
"Raven?"
I shut the door and pull out my ponytail. My mind buzzes as I comb through my messy hair and turn the sink on. What am I doing? I watch myself move in shock. Why did I close the door on him? I throw water over my hair and freeze when I accidentally soak half my head. RAM. It's much worse now. Why do I even care? It's just L...
"Raven? You in there?"
I hit my head on the spout hearing him on the other side of the door. I bite down a groan but I'm sure he heard it when his tone pivots from curiosity to urgent care.
"Are you alright?"
Now he thinks something is terribly wrong because I can't frocking open my mouth to speak. What is wrong with me? I should open the door but I find myself horrified at the thought of his stunning eyes seeing my half-soaked hair. The fact that he's probably seen me in worse states is enough to make me pass out.
Besides, I lack the mental capacity to have a conversation right now. That, and he's too stunning without his mask on. Even if he is wearing it, he's hard to read. Sometimes he says one thing but his tone says another. I can't bare him teasing me again without me realizing it. I will surely lose my mind, especially after everything I know he has seen.
My cheeks burn as I holler at him through the door.
"Yeah! I'm okay."
He responds professionally and I'm confused to hear him regard me this way.
"You sounded like you were in pain...are you sure you're in no need of assistance, Miss Voltkon?"
Miss Voltkon? Does he see me as his boss now or something? Now I'm even more confused. I'm surprised to hear myself shout and sound more defensive than I intended.
"No! Don't come in!"
A heavy silence follows and I can hear him thinking behind the door. He sounds resolved to drop it but there's a disappointment in his voice that aches my heart.
"Okay. I'll be going, then."
I turn into the door and a strong desire comes over me to see him now that I picture him walking away. I never thanked him for the food and for saving me last night, or for all those years he protected me. He deserves praise. Yet, I am unsettled at the thought of being under his bright gaze and wish I had a shell to hide in like a crab-that way I could speak to him without having to face him.
That is ridiculous of me. Since when have I shied away from giving thanks when it is due? I want to give him my appreciation, and I should. I have to overcome this weird feeling. Giving him my thanks is more important than my nerves.
"L!" I shout.
My fingers curl on the lock pad and the door slides open. I expect to find an empty doorway but instead am met with a maskless, mind-numbingly attractive man. His cyan eyes and mischievous smile make my brain fuzz as I look at him.
"Miss Voltkon?"
Huh...? Why is he smiling at me like that? None of this is matching up with what I just heard in his voice. He asks me a serious question while looking like he's about to laugh.
"What's wrong?"
He leans into the door frame with his arms and my attention lingers on his body. He's dressed fashionably in a black t-shirt and cybertech pants with silver straps and pockets. Though they are loosely fit clothes, they fail to hide his muscular build. His chest and abdomen stick out under his black shirt and the exposed collarbone above his neckline contrasts with the muscles in his neck. A lump forms in my throat as I meet his amused gaze.
"I..."
His grin widens looking at me.
"You thought I left," He mutters, "Didn't you?"
I can't believe it! I hug my arms to my chest, feeling my face burn. Did he purposefully sound upset to get me to open the door? Or is he amused simply at my shock at him being there?
"Well, yeah..."
"Well," He emphasizes playfully, "I assure you that's not going to happen again. Not until I know you're okay. So...what's wrong?"
My heart flutters as I stare at the ground. I wish I could hide under my covers hearing my response.
"N-nothing. You just startled me..."
The amusement in his voice fades.
"Oh, I'm sorry. That wasn't my intention."
I'm so frustrated with myself. I opened the door to thank him and so far I have only made him feel bad. All I have to do is say 'thank you', it's not that hard!
"No! I didn't mean that," I stammer, "I mean, you surprised me but that's because I was spacing out. I hit my head on the sink while trying to fix this..."
I gesture to my hair, wishing desperately I had that shell to hide in when his gaze shifts onto its disaster.
"Is your head okay?" He asks quickly.
"Yeah, it's fine..."
He stares at me silently for a few moments before his lips quirk.
"Please correct me if I'm wrong..." He asks slowly, "But did you refrain from opening the door because you didn't want me to see your hair?"
I stare at him like a deer in headlights. Does he expect me to admit that out loud?
"Pfft-!"
He moves his hand over his mouth and turns away. I blush watching his shoulders quake before laughter forces its way through his hands and explodes around me. I hold a burning cheek hearing his loud laugh. Hopefully, he doesn't turn around anytime soon. Hopefully, he walks away and leaves me so I can regain my ability to think clearly.
To my terrible luck, he turns around to face me. He collapses against the doorframe closest to me, resting his head on his fist as he lets out another chuckle. My stomach flutters as he looks down at me with red cheeks.
"I'm sorry..." He breathes, "I'm just surprised you were concerned about that."
He shuts his eyes and draws in a big breath before straightening. He tries to look more serious for me knowing I'm embarrassed but his gaze still twinkles meeting my eyes.
"You always look good to me."
How could he be so direct? I gape at the devilish grin forming on his face. He steps into the bathroom and it grows wider across his lips.
"I can do your hair for you again if you'd like."
I flush at the thought of his hands through my hair. Frock, I'd bend over backward to have him do it. My heart leaps in my chest in protest. No! I'd pass out for sure.
"Uh-uhm..."
He covers his eyes with a hand and seals his lips together. I sigh heavily watching him shudder while attempting to stifle another laugh. He was joking. He's just teasing me again. His loud laugh envelops me in seconds and I raise my eyes to the heavens. Despite my annoyance, I can't help but smile at the joyous sound. Am I really that amusing? He lays against the doorframe, laughing into the wood with his back facing me. He tries to form words in between laughter.
"That was terribly inappropriate of me to joke like that...but your reaction was just too funny. I'm sorry."
I raise an eyebrow at him, "Are you now?"
His laughter subsides quickly to my surprise and he turns around to face me. My pulse beats in my ears watching his hand fall from his face. There's a pink flush across his cheeks but he looks at me with impressive sincerity for having just laughed two seconds ago.
"I am sorry..."
I lose myself in his bright eyes as he continues with a new seriousness.
"Sometimes I can act socially unacceptable without realizing it," He admits, "Please forgive me if I have done so. I hold you in the greatest respect and would never seek to dishonor you."
What an apology. A smile breaks across my face, one that I cannot hold back. He sees me that highly? I've never received such a serious apology over a joke. It seems a little out of place for him only teasing me. If I'm being honest, it's quite hilarious. I lay a hand over my grin. Now I'm the one trying not to laugh.
"I...really wasn't bothered by it," I manage, "Just surprised is all. T-thank you, uhm..."
What is his name? I don't even know that much about him. I have so much to learn. It's weird he knows so much about me and I know so little about him.
"What is your name?"
He looks away to my relief and runs a hand through his white hair.
"Logan," He mutters, "Logan Greyson."
It makes sense why he's called 'L' now. It's short for his real name. Now that I've learned something valuable about him, I recall my initial reason for opening the door, to express my gratitude. The fog in my mind clears and my focus sharpens on him. I use his real name and to my surprise, am able to confidently hold my ground in front of him.
"Logan..."
He turns toward me, and there's a shock in his eyes upon him hearing his name leave my mouth that intrigues me. That, and another odd energy surfaces, one that brings a small, strange grin to his face. It's on the verge of splitting into something remarkable. I watch his expression with fascination as I continue speaking, feeling my ability to voice myself and think clearly grow stronger by the moment.
"I wanted to thank you for saving me yesterday. And for all those years you watched over me. Thank you for doing that. I'm sorry I couldn't thank you sooner..."
His mouth parts looking at me. I can tell this is not what he expected to hear. It's weird being on the other side of acting in a way that is shocking to someone. I didn't think my words could have that impact on someone, especially him. I suppose I can stun him after all.
"A-and thank you for the breakfast this morning," I add, "It was amazing. It looked so beautiful, too."
After a long period of silence, a whisper leaves him.
"You're...welcome."
I can't believe I said what I wanted to. I don't know where the confidence is coming from but I'm furthermore surprised at my ability to step toward him and wrap my arms around him. He's silent and rigid as I rest my hands on his back and lay my head on his chest. I hug him tightly remembering him beating my assaulter, hoping he feels all that I felt in that moment through my embrace.
I was weaker compared to my assaulter, physically and emotionally. I didn't have the physical strength to get him off me or the drive to kill. I showed him mercy and didn't shoot him in the head when I had the chance. Yet he jumped on me the chance he got and was more than ready to do something terrible to me.
The quickness in his thinking toward me was degrading and cold. I thought higher of him than he did of me. And I ended up helpless under him, held at gunpoint. It wasn't right. I couldn't do anything to save myself from him or his touch.
But L came for me. He defended my honor. He declared that it was all wrong without opening his mouth. His response said that I was valuable and that my life and dignity were worth protecting.
I nestle my head into his chest.
"Thank you, Logan."
His breath skids across my ear and I feel his body rise and fall against me. He feels as though he is struggling to breathe. I quickly let go of him to see if he's alright. His entire face is red and he is out of breath.
"Are you okay?" I ask him.
I lay a hand against his forehead and am concerned to find it's hot to the touch.
"I think you have a fever."
I'm worried he will pass out at this rate. His eyes are startlingly bright as he stares at the floor and his shoulders heave with his breath.
"Hang on, Logan," I touch his cheek lightly in assurance before turning around, "I'll get you a cool towel."
I yank the first towel I find on the hanger and run it under cold water. After squeezing it quickly, I turn around to him.
Just as I'm about to lay it on his forehead, his hand closes loosely over my wrist and he pulls the rag away from his head. His breathing stops and I truly believe he is going to pass out, only his eyes flicker onto me. My grip weakens on the cloth and it drops from my hand. I'm about to bend over to pick it up but his other hand lands on my shoulder, stopping me. My heart flutters hearing him say my name softly.
"Raven."
I lift my head to him and the magnificent glow in his eyes lures me. His hand slides up my wrist and onto my palm, sending heat up my arm and across my face.
"I admire your concern," He mutters.
His fingers intertwine with mine and warmth explodes in my chest as he grasps my hand firmly.
"But I've never been better."
He tilts his head, watching me intently as he pushes against my arm. I feel my heart in my throat as our hands hit the wall softly. His gaze flickers onto my lips before his hand falls away from mine. He closes his eyes turning away from me and his voice is barely audible.
"We should plan our next steps."
I hold my beating heart watching him leave. What...what was that? Is he trying to steal my heart or is he just a natural flirt? I inhale deeply and push myself off the wall. Now is not the time for...whatever that was. Even he knows that. We are in desperate need of a plan.
I follow after him leaving the bathroom. I need to find my telescreen to see if mom contacted me. I think I left my backpack on the couch in the living room. L, too, makes a beeline for the couch and it is there we stop at a pile of guns and armor scattered across the cushions.
"Wow," I exclaim, "I've never seen so many guns."
He chuckles lowly, "You have no idea."
I scan the area for my backpack but in seconds he's holding it out to me. He really is perceptive to my needs. It's kind of nice not having to ask what I'm looking for when he already knows. Who knew having a bodyguard stalk me for three years could be so convenient?
"Thank you!"
I take it from him and pull out my telescreen. I scroll through my notifications, frowning when I find no messages from mom. I think of the worst-case scenario as to why she didn't contact me and shudder.
"Nothing from your mother?" L infers, "I haven't received anything from her, either."
I turn to him as he pulls a padded long-sleeved over his head.
"No!" I run a hand through my hair, feeling my voice tremble, "Do you think Phantom took her?"
"Yes, unfortunately," He deadpans, making my stomach turn, "There were many of them last night. All of them are exceptional in combat. But your mother is, too. I wouldn't be surprised if she escaped."
I sigh in relief, holding onto that small glimmer of hope that she could have escaped.
"Do you know any safe houses she had?"
"Yes. But I already called all the devices at her different safe house locations. She didn't pick up on any. Which is not a good sign. She would have them on her if she were there."
"Why wouldn't she just use her telescreen or the caller in her chip?" I gesture to my head, "She should have called me by now. I should have gotten a notification from Sky. Her contact is in my software."
"It would be too dangerous for her to contact us using her telescreen or the chip. Calls are easily traced with those methods," L counters smartly, throwing on his vest. His bright eyes and white hair disappear behind his mask. "If anything, keep an eye out for unknown callers on your telescreen. She would use a new mobile device to reach us."
I sigh heavily placing a hand on my forehead, "I'm going to try calling her through my chip."
"No!"
"No?" I echo in disbelief.
He pauses in throwing on his gear to turn to me fully. I stare into the darkness hiding his face.
"Phantom has infiltrated Haven's chip communication network," He explains gently, "If Phantom has her chip traced, they will have a direct connection to your location if she answers. And she won't answer, trust me. She's too careful to make a mistake like that."
This is getting difficult. I wouldn't have thought it possible to have trouble contacting anyone with the many communication methods available to us. But it makes sense that she can't use them. All mainline calls and messages are managed through Haven service providers. If Phantom has breached their communication, we can't do anything on those lines.
"What about the cameras in our home?"
His voice hardens.
"Phantom erased them when we left. I should have secured them before I came to you."
"Weren't you fighting them before you got to me? You couldn't have secured the cameras and fought them at the same time."
He turns away from me in silent disagreement.
"You can't do everything, L," I grab his arm for emphasis, "You couldn't have done all of that at once."
There's a soft sigh behind the mask.
"I know...thank you."
He picks up a smaller vest on the couch, then pants with built-in armor. The clothes dangle in front of me as he holds them out.
"For you. Your mother packed you your size."
I take them from him and space out at the many straps and buckles on the vest. How do I put this on? I've never worn mili-tech gear before. I pull at the straps but accidentally tighten the collar so much my neck couldn't possibly fit inside.
"Do you want my help?"
I'm so relieved he asked. I don't know what the heck I'm doing. My cheeks burn as I hold out the gear to him.
"Yes, please...if you wouldn't mind."
He takes them off my hands.
"Not at all."
My jaw drops as I watch him loosen the vest's straps with ease to create a larger opening for my head. He made that look easy.
"Arms out."
I press my lips together, feeling like a child as I raise my arms. The arm openings slide against my skin before the vest is fastened tightly across my chest. L tinkers with additional straps and buckles the sides before finishing. He leans down looking at me, placing his hands on his knees like a parent admiring their handiwork.
"Look at you!" He bursts.
A gloved hand lightly slaps against my left cheek, sending a blush across my face. My eyes widen as he utters lowly.
"Such a big girl..."
I scowl hearing a dark chuckle as he bends over to pick up a gun. I swear a whole different personality emerges when he wears that mask.
"That was socially unacceptable."
"Was it?" He asks innocently, "I'm sorry. Here..."
He pulls his mask off without warning. I quickly look away from the stunning eyes and charming grin. My heart spasms hearing the amusement in his voice.
"Slap me back."
"I will not!" I exclaim hotly, spinning away from him completely.
I grab a gun and shove it into a holster on my vest. I can't get a break, can I? He always pulls something on me and I can never respond well. My cheeks burn with his soft laughter. A witty reply comes to me in the moment. It would catch him off guard. You would want that, wouldn't you? Should I kiss you, too? I open my mouth to fire the comeback but am cut off by a ringtone.
I quickly open my backpack and pull out my telescreen, the source of the noise. My heart hammers seeing the screen read 'unknown caller'. L joins my side, reading the screen over my shoulder.
"Could be her," He mutters.
I swipe to answer and raise it to my ear.
"Raven? Are you alright?"
I suck in a breath, feeling a deep relief wash over me. Thank goodness.
"Mom!" I cry, "Yes! Where are you?"
"I can't say, I don't have much time. Please listen to me. Is L there?"
"Yes," He answers, moving his head close to mine, "I'm here."
"Good, listen closely. I got away but I can't tell you where I am. Phantom raided my tech. They know who I am and they know who both of you are. They are hot on my tail so it will be a few weeks before we can meet at the minimum. It's no longer safe to go home. They have eyes all over it. Raven...from now on you are going to be on their radar. You can choose to escape and hide or...you can choose to join Firewall and fight. It's your choice."
"I'm joining Firewall!" I tell her. It's not even a question. I'm not going to hide and do nothing. I'm going to help in the fight for the chip as her and my father did.
A lump forms in my throat hearing her voice soften.
"I'm proud of you, no matter what you do. I will respect your choice. If you change your mind, L will relocate you. If you are willing to fight, then L will show you Shield where you can begin tracking Phantom together."
"Mom, I think I found a lead on them!" I interject, "I found a recent criminal case file on a Watchman server-I think Phantom may be connected to it. It was a BUB massacre but I think Haven tampered with the chip. Phantom may be near, ready to make a move on Haven."
There's a slight pause.
"I've heard about that case," She says to my shock, "It must be fate because I, too, have my suspicions. You can track it but be careful. The ground level is nasty in a lot of parts but your father marked a list of possible allies before he disappeared."
"Who are they?" L inquires, pulling out his telescreen.
"I will send you the top two profiles."
I peer over his shoulder to find a picture of a pink-haired woman swinging her fist at a large, muscular man. She has red bionic arms and wears a black sports bra and boxer shorts. She is labeled a pro-BUB fighter. Lucy Steele. 22 years old. Female. I can tell by her stance and the blood on her face that this was taken in the middle of a match. Her eyes are orange and she wears a scowl in the picture, looking as though she is about to spit some insult at her opponent.
The second picture is a tall, red-haired young man with tools in his hands. He has yellow, cat-like eyes and wears a suspicious grin while working at a high table on someone's bionic leg. Maxwell Felix, 24 years old. Male. Under his name is the title 'fixer'. I narrow my eyes seeing the same pink-haired girl in the background. In this photo, she wears a pink sports bra and jean shorts but there is a soft expression on her face instead of a scowl as she watches Max. The two seem very close.
"Lucy and Max are inseparable ground dwellers," Mother discloses, "Lucy is a top Jungle fighter and Max is her fixer who repairs her arms. He has his own fixer joint for other BUBs called Metal Head but helps her and her BUB team on the side. They have deep connections everywhere on the ground and will be a great help to you in navigating their world and the case. They aren't friends to Haven or Phantom but will have stakes in the cases since they live among BUBs."
"Can they be trusted?" L asks.
"Trusted enough to work with them but tread carefully. Lucy has no malicious intent though she is quick to be violent and is tough as nails. Max has been approached by Phantom multiple times but according to Adam's records, he's denied them, which is curious...even to me since he would seem to be in a position to hate them. Adam has no background info on him but a hypothesis. He believes he came from the Outlands."
"The Outlands?" I exclaim.
The Outlands are where people who refuse to have the chip live. It's terrible living conditions and a literal apocalypse land. No government, no rules, no laws. Just straight-up fallen humanity. Not to mention, its borders are heavily guarded by Haven's military and nearly impossible to cross. How did he get over?
"Does he have a chip?" L asks, "How is he in Haven?"
"It doesn't say," She answers, "But in Adam's notes, he says 'Max sees Haven as his enemy and has messed with their chip experiments. He has taken initiative against them but not to the point of harming the innocent, like Phantom. If he has refused Phantom, there is a chance he may be willing to join Firewall at some point.'"
"He does sound promising," I admit.
"He sounds off," L mutters.
"Chances are, they know the BUBs who got killed and are worried for their own people," Mother explains, "If you convey that you want to help them and have the ability, they will help you-" A panicky breath leaves her, "I have to go, I hear someone outside."
"Wait!" I shout.
"L, teach Raven how to fight!"
"I will!" He says firmly.
"I love you both!" She cries.
Her heavy breath is caught off and the call ends. Goosebumps form on my shoulders as I sink into the couch.
I hope she isn't in too much trouble. I can't believe I'm going to be separated from her because of this. When am I going to see her again?
"She will be okay," L assures me, "Your mother is very smart and strong."
L sits beside me, dipping the couch and creating a landslide of guns falling onto our laps. Their icy touch bleeds through my pants but he wraps an arm around me, and his warmth overcomes the cool. I lay my head against his helmet and he turns into me, leaning into my embrace to comfort me. He sighs heavily after a while, turning his head outward.
"Well...Ground-city level, here we come."