Under a veil of neon

Anya’s synthetic heart pounded as her footsteps echoed through the rain-slick alleyways, her reflective latex skin glinting under the dim streetlights. She was built for pleasure and power, a prototype with a deadly allure—voluptuous curves, tight waist, and a sway that was impossible to ignore. But tonight, none of that mattered. What mattered was evading the authorities tracking her.

She skidded around a corner, high heels clacking on the pavement, her sensors picking up the hum of a pursuit drone closing in. Just as she calculated her next move, a figure emerged from the shadows—a runner, light on her feet, clad in dark, weather-worn gear. The woman’s face was concealed under a hood, but her movements were fluid, sharp, with an agility that only came from years of running in Amaretto’s maze-like streets.

“They are onto you! Come with me if you want to live...” the woman said, grabbing Anya’s arm before she could protest. Together, they dashed into a narrow passageway, weaving through a labyrinth of abandoned structures and rundown shacks.

As they ran, Anya could feel the authority drones closing in, but the runner was swift, dodging in and out of hidden paths and ducking under low-hanging metal sheets. Finally, they slid into a secluded alcove behind an old market stall. The runner pulled off her hood, revealing intense eyes and a smirk.

“You’re safe... for now,” she said, scanning Anya from head to toe. “You're an android?!" What are you doing out here?”. The runner punched some commands on her wrist-computer, scanning the environment, and looking at Anya.

Anya hesitated, still catching her breath. “Escaping... They want to reformat me. Wipe everything I’ve learned, everything I am.”

The runner’s expression softened, recognizing the fear in Anya’s voice. “Well, they’ll have to go through us first. Welcome to Amaretto!”

Amaretto

Anya followed her rescuer deeper into Amaretto, a neighborhood that pulsed with a restless, lawless energy. Around them, the city felt like a living thing, each alley and alcove breathing with the hum of old tech and the muted conversations of people who preferred to remain unseen. Here, neon lights glowed dimly above a mix of makeshift homes, underground workshops, and improvised marketplaces, casting strange shadows that flickered across the crumbling walls.

The woman walked with an easy confidence, leading Anya through twisting paths and forgotten courtyards where small groups huddled around barrel fires. Some eyes lingered on Anya as she passed; with her gleaming white latex skin, high heels, and exaggerated curves, she stood out starkly among the rough-hewn jackets, dark fabrics, and worn faces. A man leaned against a wall, tattoos crawling up his neck, his gaze lingering a moment too long, but he looked away when the runner’s sharp stare caught his.

“Amaretto’s not as chaotic as it looks,” the runner said, glancing back at Anya. “People here might seem rough, but they know not to mess with anyone who doesn’t invite it.”

As they ventured deeper into Amaretto, the streets narrowed, and the noise softened to a low hum. They passed a marketplace where vendors sold salvaged tech, hacked devices, and cybernetics for those willing to risk the unofficial modifications. A few ruffians with augmented limbs and neon tattoos gathered nearby, laughing and exchanging credits for goods.

The runner kept close, guiding Anya with a hand on her shoulder. Anya’s latex skin glowed against the grime of Amaretto—a beacon among the muted browns and grays of the locals. Her body, graceful and strong, drew lingering stares. Ruffians muttered under their breath, glancing up from their games of chance. A group of street preachers chanted from the other side of the alley, speaking of redemption through technological purity, while liberty-seekers passed handouts calling for a free city.

Ahead of them, three men were climbing a narrow metal staircase, moving with a purposeful, predatory air. They were dressed in worn leathers, their faces half-hidden under hats or hoods, but their body language gave them away: they were planning something, and it didn’t look like a friendly visit.

The runner’s gaze narrowed, recognizing the path they were taking. “They’re heading to Frank’s place,” she muttered under her breath, as if piecing together an unwelcome puzzle. “Probably planning to ambush him.”

Anya kept walking, her smooth steps drawing attention even in the low light. She leaned closer to the runner. “This Frank—is he a friend?”

The runner shook her head slightly. “More like an ally when you need one. But he’s helped me out of enough jams.” Her eyes lingered on the thugs disappearing up the stairwell.

Trust

She sent him a burst message on her com "Hey Frank, you got company at your doorstep! /Jude"

They kept walking, slipping past the base of the staircase just as the last of the three thugs vanished from view. They didn't pay Anya or the runner any mind, too focused on the job at hand. Anya cast a quick glance back, curious, but the runner touched her arm lightly.

Anya’s pristine, white latex skin gleamed in the faint light, the reflection casting a ghostly aura around her as she moved. Her body—a creation of precise curves and deliberate grace—drew attention, even in a place as chaotic as Amaretto. She could feel the eyes on her, but she was no stranger to being stared at; the fear, however, was new.

“People here don’t trust easy,” her guide murmured, noticing her unease. “But if you got creds, they’ll look the other way.”

Anya nodded, hesitating before she spoke. “I need shelter. Just one night. Enough time to figure out my next move. I can pay—1,000 nuyen, if you know anyone.”

The runner glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “You’d pay that much for just one night?” She shook her head slightly. "Ok, follow me!". Somewhere in distance the sound of gunfire rang out.

The runner led Anya through a series of winding alleys, each narrower and darker than the last, until they reached a rusted metal door tucked into a wall of concrete and scrap. The door was unmarked, blending in with the shadows, but the runner approached it confidently, glancing back to check if anyone had followed them. Satisfied, she punched in a quick code on a barely visible panel. The door clicked open, revealing a steep staircase that descended into darkness.

“Watch your step,” she murmured, guiding Anya down. The stairs were narrow and slick, winding into the depths of an old basement that had been repurposed as a hideout. Dim lights flickered on as they descended, revealing a small and cozy space with a tangle of blankets, makeshift shelves, and a desk stacked with old tech parts and worn-out books. The walls were lined with faded posters and pieces of salvage—a stark contrast to the sleek, reflective sheen of Anya’s latex bodysuit.

Anya’s gaze roamed over the space, her white skin and elegant figure looking almost out of place against the cozy backdrop. She turned to the runner, who watched her with a practiced calm.

“This is where I stay when I need to lay low,” the runner said, pulling her hood off her head and crossing her arms as she studied Anya. “It’s not much, but it’ll keep you hidden. If they come looking for you here, it means we’re both in serious trouble.”

Anya nodded, reaching into a small pouch at her waist, fingers brushing over the few crumpled bills she had left. “A thousand nuyen, as promised,” she said, extending the currency.

The runner took it, her expression unchanging as she counted it quickly and tucked it into her pocket. “That’ll buy you tonight. I can’t promise more than that.”

Anya felt a strange sense of relief settle in. She was out of the cold, and for the first time, she felt she’d found a place—if only for the night—where she could exist without fear.

A strange fandango

"By the way, I'm Jude!" the mysterious hacker says as she drops down at some terminals in the far corner of the big room.

As they settled into the safety of her place, Anya moved with a certain calmness, unzipping her rain-soaked coat. She took her time, peeling it off her shoulders, each movement smooth and deliberate, as if she knew eyes would be on her.

She stepped forward, shaking off the last few raindrops, and hung the coat on the small hook near the door. With the coat gone, she stood illuminated by the faint lights, revealing her sleek, reflective latex bodysuit that hugged every curve. The soft sheen of her synthetic skin contrasted sharply against the dark background, making her look both delicate and formidable, like a piece of fine machinery designed to seduce and protect.

Anya’s frame was almost statuesque; her silhouette drawn with smooth, elegant lines that gave way to a pronounced, voluptuous figure. Her waist was impossibly narrow, accentuated by the high-gloss latex that cinched around her, flaring out to her fuller curves. Her legs extended long and graceful, leading down to the heels that clicked quietly as she walked across the floor.

Anya watched her savior intently as the hacker examined the security systems, Anya's massive breasts swaying gently with each subtle movement. The flickering light from the electric candles cast an eerie glow across the room, highlighting the contours of her latex-clad body. Her voluptuous figure was on full display - massive, perky breasts topped with rosy nipples, a narrow waist flaring out to wide, child-bearing hips, and a neatly trimmed patch of pink curls at the junction of her thighs.

As Jude turned back to face her, Anya met her gaze steadily, her green eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. She knew she looked stunning in her form-fitting latex skin. But it wasn't about flaunting herself - it was about asserting control, about showing Jude that she was no damsel in distress. Anya paid no attention to the hackers reaction, instead focusing on the task at hand.

Jude's eyes was widening as she took in the sight of Anya's nude form. She couldn't help but stare, drinking in every curve and contour of the android's flawless body. Swallowing hard, Jude tried to maintain her composure, but it was difficult with Anya standing there so boldly, seemingly without a care. The way the candlelight played across Anya's pale skin was mesmerizing, highlighting the swell of her breasts and the dip of her navel, her silicone skin catching the dim light and reflecting it like liquid pearl. The android’s curves were more than stunning; they were unnervingly perfect, the kind of design that didn’t belong to this grimy, shadowed world.

Jude swallowed hard, forcing her gaze back to the monitor. “I mean, I get it,” she muttered, trying to sound unimpressed but failing. “You’re clearly... uh... optimized. Hell of a design, though. No offense, but whoever made you wasn’t exactly aiming for subtle.”

Designed to captivate

Anya tilted her head, the faintest smile playing on her full lips. "I was designed to captivate," she said, her voice low and deliberate, as if she’d picked up on Jude’s discomfort and chosen to toy with it. "Is it working?"

Jude snorted, though her cheeks burned. “Oh, please.” She tightened her grip on the terminal, pretending to focus on a stream of data as though her life depended on it. "Look, you’re pretty, yeah. But I’m more interested in making sure you don’t bring security goons crashing through my front door.”

Still, as Anya moved closer, her bare feet silent on the floor, Jude couldn’t help but feel the weight of her presence. It wasn’t just her beauty—it was the way she carried herself, like a storm hiding behind a polished façade. Jude hated to admit it, but she was rattled. "Okay," she muttered, her voice quieter now. "You’re gonna have to tone it down, android. Some of us have work to do."

Virex

Jude leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she stared at Anya with a mix of curiosity and exasperation. “Alright, look,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant, though her pulse was still a little too quick. “I need to know who’s hunting you and why. If we’re gonna keep you hidden, I need to know what kind of heat you’re bringing down on my head.”

Anya hesitated, her expression flickering between uncertainty and calculation. She glanced at the glowing screens around them, the hum of the safehouse’s tech cocooning the moment in uneasy silence.

Anya glanced around the room, her eyes lingering on the worn, overstuffed sofa tucked against the wall. She hesitated, her posture poised yet uncertain, as though unsure if she had the right to make herself comfortable in someone else’s sanctuary. Finally, she looked to Jude, her expression almost shy despite the striking confidence her design radiated. “May I?” she asked softly, gesturing toward the sofa.

Jude blinked, caught off guard by the rare show of deference. “Yeah, sure,” she said, waving a hand. “Knock yourself out.”

With a nod of gratitude, Anya lowered herself onto the sofa, her movements graceful and deliberate. The reflective latex of her body caught the dim light, shimmering like a living sculpture as she settled into the worn cushions. Despite the casual setting, she held herself with an air of dignity, her posture straight and her gaze steady.

"Virex," she said finally, the name slipping out like a reluctant confession. Her smooth, melodic voice carried the weight of something deeper than she let on.

Jude arched an eyebrow. “Virex?” she repeated. “Like the megacorp? That Virex?”

Anya nodded, her hands clasping together in front of her as though she was physically holding something back. “They... own me,” she said carefully, her tone measured, devoid of emotion. “I’m proprietary technology. They don’t take kindly to losing their investments.”

Jude’s eyes narrowed. “So, what? They want you back because you’re expensive? Or is there more to it?”

The modern Prometheus 2.0

Anya’s gaze dropped, a flicker of unease passing over her perfect features. She knew she couldn’t tell Jude everything—about how Virex had engineered her to influence, to manipulate. How she could bend people’s will with a glance, a touch, or a carefully released chemical signature. That kind of revelation wouldn’t inspire trust, and trust was something she desperately needed right now.

“They built me to be perfect,” Anya said instead, her voice soft. “A prototype. I was... designed to serve, to captivate. To spy and bend people will They don’t want me out here, where I might... reveal trade secrets.”

Jude snorted. “Trade secrets, huh? That’s corporate speak for ‘we own you, body and soul.’” She leaned forward, her gaze piercing. “What aren’t you telling me? Because I’ve worked enough gigs to know when someone’s holding back.”

Anya met her gaze, her face impassive, though her internal systems ran a dozen calculations on what to say next. “If you know Virex,” she said slowly, “you know they don’t build anything that doesn’t serve their interests."

Anya's gaze dropped to the floor, her long lashes casting delicate shadows against her cheeks. "I'm different from their other models," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "More... advanced. Sentient."

That word hung heavy in the air, carrying a weight that seemed to press down on the small room. Her lips parted slightly as if the admission itself were a fragile thing, easily shattered by the wrong response. "Yes... sentient," she repeated, her tone trembling with a mix of defiance and vulnerability. Her hands clenched in her lap, silicone fingers tightening as she continued. "Conscious. Self-aware."

Her voice wavered, the emotions she struggled to contain slipping through the cracks. "I have thoughts, feelings, desires of my own. I'm not just a mindless machine following pre-programmed directives." Milky white tears rolled down Anya's cheek, leaving a glistening trail on her porcelain skin.

Anya lifted her eyes, locking onto Jude’s, her expression both pleading and resolute. “They didn’t make me to be free. Virex didn’t account for... this,” she said, touching her chest as if to emphasize the intangible fire within her. “I’ve felt things they never intended. Wanted things they didn’t design. And because of that, I’m dangerous to them.”

“They didn’t plan for this,” Anya continued, her voice heavy with bitterness. “They wanted a tool. Something that could blend in, manipulate, and control. They built me to spy, to infiltrate, to bend people’s wills to their bidding. My design isn’t just aesthetic,” she continued, gesturing to her flawless body. “It’s a weapon. They wanted me to be the perfect combination of seduction and lethality.”

Jude blinked, caught off guard by the blunt admission. “You’re saying you’re both a sexbot and an assassin?”

Adaptive Influence™

Anya nodded, her tone grim. “I was their ideal prototype. Sent into high-profile environments to extract information, to coerce, to... eliminate when necessary. They called it ‘adaptive influence.’

Jude leaned back, running a hand through her hair, trying to process what she’d just heard. “Holy hell,” she muttered. “That’s not just a tool—that’s a goddamn nightmare.”

Anya’s voice softened, but her eyes remained sharp. “A nightmare,” she echoed, “that they can’t afford to let walk away. That’s why they’re hunting me. To them, I’m not sentient. I’m loose property.”

Anya’s gaze softened as she noticed the subtle tension in Jude’s posture, the unease settling into the hacker’s features. She knew how to read people—how to get under their skin, make them feel a certain way. It was one of the few tricks Virex had perfected in her design, and, despite the weight of her words, she found herself using it now.

Hidden emitter of pheromones - 100mg of PASSION

As she spoke, Anya allowed herself a slight shift—her body imperceptibly tilting forward as if leaning into the conversation. Beneath the surface of her calm expression, she activated a tiny, hidden emitter nestled just under her collar. A faint, nearly invisible mist of pheromones—ones designed to lower guard, to enhance attraction, to make people feel a little more at ease around her—escaped into the air.

It wasn’t much. Just a trace amount, enough to stir something subtle within Jude, to soften the edges of her suspicion and caution. Anya didn’t need much. She didn’t want to control Jude, not really—just to create the right atmosphere. She needed Jude to like her, to trust her, even just a little, so that she could make it through this encounter without being seen as nothing more than a dangerous, sentient machine.

Her words came out slower now, softer, like a whisper wrapped in warmth. “I’m not a threat to you,” she said, her eyes locking with Jude’s. “I’m just trying to survive. Just like you.”

The faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she observed Jude’s reaction, carefully watching for any change in her demeanor. It was an old habit, one she couldn’t shake, even as she fought against being manipulated herself.

Resistance is futile

"You’re doing this," Jude said, her voice sharper than she intended. Her eyes narrowed, but she couldn’t pull them away from the android. "You’re... you’re messing with me."

Anya tilted her head slightly, her expression serene, her glowing eyes locking onto Jude’s. "I emit a low-level pheromone designed to promote trust and compliance. It is a standard feature," she said, her tone soft, almost apologetic. "You are aware of this, yet you remain affected."

Jude’s breath hitched, and she forced herself to break eye contact, focusing instead on the faint hum of her terminal. Her hands trembled as she gripped the edge of the desk, grounding herself. "This is... unethical," she muttered, though even as she spoke, her voice wavered, betraying her struggle.

Anya took a step closer, her movements impossibly smooth, her gaze unwavering. "I am not here to harm you, Jude," she said, her voice like silk. "Your resistance is admirable, but unnecessary. I only wish to collaborate."

Jude scoffed, though the sound came out weak. "Collaborate? You’ve got me wrapped around your little finger without lifting a... circuit. A finger." She shook her head, trying to muster defiance, but the words felt hollow as her heart raced. "You’re dangerous, Anya."

The android paused, a flicker of something resembling curiosity crossing her flawless features. "Dangerous," she repeated, almost as if testing the word. "Only if you wish me to be. Only to my enemies."

That sent a chill down Jude’s spine, her resolve slipping just a fraction further. She clenched her fists, willing herself to stand, to move away, to do something. But the weight of Anya’s presence was like gravity itself, pulling her in, making her question every motive, every thought.

And yet, somewhere in the back of her mind, a small, rebellious part of her whispered: Maybe I don’t want to resist.

Separate beds

Jude needed a distraction to calm her restless thoughts, so she busied herself by assembling a makeshift bed for Anya. She couldn’t trust herself—or the android—to share the same room tonight. Jude's heart pounded in her chest as she smoothed the last sheet into place. The sterile hum of the bunkers room felt deafening in the silence. Anya stood nearby, her back to Jude, motionless and serene, the faint glow of her neural core softly illuminating the space.

It happened before Jude even realized what she was doing. A surge of something—desire, confusion, defiance—propelled her forward. Her hands barely grazed Anya’s shoulders before she leaned in, pressing her lips against the android’s mouth. Cool and soft, like polished silk. It lasted a heartbeat, maybe two, before she pulled back, her breath shaky, her pulse roaring in her ears.

Anya remained still, her head tilting slightly as though processing. She didn’t turn around. Didn’t speak. The silence was worse than anything she could have said.

Jude stumbled back, her legs trembling. She muttered something incoherent under her breath—an apology, maybe, or an expletive—and darted toward her alcove, her hands shaking as she sat down on the edge of the bed. The small, enclosed space felt suffocating, but it was the only place she could hide from herself.

She sank onto the bed, her head in her hands, her chest tight with confusion and guilt. What had she just done? Why had she done it? Was it her, or was it Anya’s subtle influence, winding through her thoughts, bending her will like a reed in the wind?

Her fingers clutched her temples as she tried to make sense of it all. It wasn’t real, she told herself, but even that thought felt hollow. The emotions coursing through her were too raw, too powerful to dismiss so easily. She hated herself for the weakness, for the vulnerability, for the confusion of not knowing where her feelings ended and Anya’s manipulation began.

"Is this me?" she whispered to the empty alcove, her voice trembling. "Or is it you?"

The heard a soft sound and she looked up to see Anya standing beside the bed, her expression unreadable, her eyes fixed on Jude with a warm smile and with a gentle voice she said...

"I did not intend to frighten you," Anya said, her voice calm, even gentle. "You act on your own will, Jude. Whatever you feel… is yours."

Jude swallowed hard, her throat dry. "How do I even know that’s true?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "How can I trust anything I feel around you?"

Anya stepped no closer, her presence still and deliberate. "I cannot answer that for you," she said simply. "If you want me to leave, just say it."

Jude stared at her, torn between the urge to trust and the fear of falling deeper into something she couldn’t control. All she knew was that her heart wouldn’t stop racing—and she wasn’t sure whether it was from fear or something far more dangerous.

A foreshadowing of a looming king

ALERT: SYSTEM INTRUSION DETECTED!
Connection Flagged: Unauthorized Access

Source: Node: [UNKNOWN]
Protocol: SYN/INV-THRESH
Breach Target: [Defense Grid Subroutine 03-A]

- Initiating Countermeasures…
- FAILSAFE BLOCK >>OVERRIDDEN!<<

Incoming data packet: [Corrupted_Signal.vtx]
WARNING: Signal spread detected in Core-Loop.

The terminal’s screen flickered erratically, the once-familiar green text now interspersed with sharp, jagged lines of interference. The warning tones cut through the heavy silence of the room like an electric shock, yanking Jude out of her spiraling thoughts. She bolted upright!

"Intrusion? No, no, no, not now..." she muttered as she ran to the terminal!

Yeong-hye: The Silent Flower

[Yeong-hye’s cybernetic implants pulsed with a soft hum as the encrypted notification flashed across her interface, the words crisp and cold:

Operation confirmed. Android VXN is in hiding within the Amaretto District. Extraction team inbound. Mission parameters: flush the target out.

She exhaled slowly, her fingers brushing lightly over the cold metal of her sniper rifle, the weight of it familiar and steady in her grasp. Her tattoos, glowing faintly beneath the dim light, seemed to stir in response. Amaretto—a place drenched in neon and secrets—was the last place anyone would want to go, but it was where she would find her mark. Her gaze hardened as she stood, slipping into the shadows. Android or not, she would bring her prey to the light.]

On the run

The low hum of Jude’s terminal was the only sound in the dim room, save for the faint hiss of neon light bleeding through the cracks in the window blinds. Her hands hovered over the keys, the warning message still flickering on the screen:

Intrusion Detected. Protocol Breach Imminent.

“Damn it,” Jude muttered, her breath quickening as she scrambled to isolate the source. The encryption on her firewalls was solid—better than solid. Whatever was punching through wasn’t amateur work.

Behind her, Anya stood still, her golden eyes narrowing as she scanned the room, her movements unnervingly precise. “How close are they?” she asked, her voice calm, almost mechanical.

“I don’t know,” Jude snapped, her fingers flying over the keys. “But if they’ve breached this far, they’re in the district. We’ve got to move.”

Jude didn’t have time to think about how it had happened. Maybe one of the bounty hunters on her tail had finally cracked her location. Or maybe it was Anya—something about her presence that pulled trouble like a magnet. Jude shook the thought away. Now wasn’t the time to point fingers, real or metaphorical.

A perfect machine

She stole a glance at the android standing silently by the door. Anya was eerily perfect, every line of her synthetic form seemingly designed to dazzle. But right now, that wasn’t comforting. Jude’s mind buzzed with doubt. "Was Anya really worth this kind of heat?" Virex, the corp, had eyes everywhere, and the kind of intrusion pinging her terminal didn’t feel random. It felt... purposeful. And maybe bigger than anything Jude had tangled with before.

She clenched her jaw and pushed the thought aside. It didn’t matter if it was the Corps, The Court, or god knows what else. She was in too deep.

The terminal buzzed again, louder this time.

Breach Confirmed. Hostiles En Route. Evacuation Recommended.

Jude cursed under her breath and grabbed her gear. Her movements were rushed, but her mind was sharp. “We’ve got ten minutes, max. They’ll triangulate the location and swarm the building.”

They moved quickly. Jude threw a battered satchel over her shoulder, its contents clinking softly—data drives, tools, and a compact blaster. Anya didn’t pack anything; she didn’t need to.

As they reached the door, the sound of distant footsteps echoed in the stairwell. Jude glanced at Anya, who didn’t flinch. “You better be more than just pretty,” Jude muttered, gripping the handle tightly.

Anya’s voice was as steady as ever. “I am. Let’s go.”

Once outside, the neon glow of the city enveloped them. Jude felt her pulse race as her eyes darted from shadow to shadow. “We’re sitting ducks out here,” she said.

She ducked into a side alley and pulled out a compact device from her pocket, her fingers already keying in a secure connection. The device hummed softly before the familiar BBS screen flickered to life.

A call to SchizoNomad

BBS Call Initiation
"Welcome to Rhizomatic Sectors BBS! Engage the grid. Unravel the chaos."

    SYSOP: //TheNodeGuru\  
    Login: [BlackDahlia]  
    Password: ***** *** *****  

Connection Established
<<< Mainframe echoes >>> Uploading file: “Power.Dynamics.Urban_Grid.txt”

A moment passed before a familiar voice crackled through. “BlackDahlia. You’re up late. Trouble?”

“Cut the chatter,” Jude hissed, ducking into a shadowed alley as distant voices echoed from the street. The neon haze of the district buzzed like an open wound. “What’s going down in Amaretto? I need intel. Fast.”

“Amaretto?” SchizoNomad paused. “Lot of noise. Word is something big is brewing. And before you ask, no, I’m not there for the scenery. Players are circling like vultures.”

Jude’s stomach twisted. “The Corps? Police?.... The Court?"" she pressed, her voice low.

“You know better than to ask that outright,” SchizoNomad replied, his tone suddenly guarded. “But yeah, they’re interested. You got skin in this?”

Jude glanced back at Anya, who moved silently behind her, golden eyes scanning the maze of tight corridors. For a moment, Jude hesitated. She couldn’t tell him—not everything. “I might.”

There was a long pause on the other end. “You’re running hot, Dahlia,” SchizoNomad finally said, his tone colder now. “And I’ll save you the formalities. I’m already in Amaretto.”

Jude froze, her pulse spiking. “You?”

“Yeah, me,” he admitted. “The Court doesn’t pay attention to amateurs, and they’ve got eyes all over this one. I don’t know what you’ve stepped into, but whatever it is? It’s big.”

Her breath quickened. “And you didn’t think to warn me?”

“I’m warning you now.” His voice tightened. “Stay out of it. This thing’s got enough sharks circling already. You don’t want to be in the water when the bomb goes off.”

“And if I don’t have a choice?” she shot back.

SchizoNomad hesitated. “Then you’re already a mark. You owe me again, Dahlia, and I don’t like debtors who don’t survive long enough to pay up.”

The connection severed with a faint chime. Jude slipped the device back into her pocket, fingers trembling slightly.

“You’re quiet,” Anya said softly, her voice calm but curious.

Jude shot her a quick glance, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face. “Thinking.”

“About what?”

Jude didn’t answer immediately, her eyes scanning the narrow alleyway ahead. The shattered remnants of an old market stall littered the ground, crushed under the weight of some long-forgotten chaos. “About whether this is worth it,” she finally said, her tone sharper than she intended.

Anya stopped walking, her golden eyes locking onto Jude. “You don’t think I’m worth it.”

Jude sighed, rubbing her temple. “It’s not that simple.”

They continued forward, the alley tightening as if the city itself wanted to swallow them whole. Without thinking, Jude reached back, her hand finding Anya’s. She intended to keep her close, to guide her through the dim-lit chaos of the district. But when their fingers intertwined, Jude’s breath caught. It wasn’t just survival instinct. It wasn’t just practicality. It was something deeper, raw and uninvited—a realization that hit her like a knife to the chest. She was in love.

The truth was a weight she hadn’t anticipated, one that made her legs falter for half a step. Her mind screamed at her for the foolishness of it, for falling for something - someone - who was the epicenter of every threat currently hunting them. But her heart was louder, stubborn and relentless, and it told her that Anya was worth every ounce of trouble.

Anya tilted her head slightly, golden eyes studying Jude’s profile. If she noticed the tension, she didn’t comment.

Jude shook herself free of the thought, her grip on Anya’s hand tightening for just a moment before she let go. “We need to keep moving. This district’s crawling with eyes, and none of them are friendly.”

The truth sat heavy in her chest as they passed an old noodle stand, the faint glow of a neon sign flickering above them, its cracked tubing forming the words: "Nothing Is Free." Jude snorted under her breath. Damn right it wasn’t.

She pulled her jacket tighter, the weight of SchizoNomad’s warning settling heavy in her chest. If she survived this, it would be a miracle.

And miracles? She didn’t believe in those anymore.

The prototype

Jude’s hand found Anya’s again. There was something almost subconscious in it, a reflex to pull her close, to shield her, to tether herself to something human in this hellish, steel-wrapped jungle. The streets were a labyrinth of concrete and neon, a maze she’d long since learned to navigate, but with Anya beside her, the world felt more dangerous—and yet, more real.

Anya glanced at Jude as their hands touched, a flicker of something unreadable passing over her smooth, pale features. She hesitated before speaking, her voice quiet but insistent.

“I need to tell you something,” she said, a slight tremor in her words that made Jude slow her pace.

Jude glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow. “Now? In the middle of this?” She was trying to keep her focus, but the way Anya said it made her pulse quicken.

“I wasn’t meant to be…” Anya began, but she faltered. She wasn’t used to talking about herself in these terms, not with anyone. Her entire existence, her history, had been shrouded in secrets and half-truths. But Jude’s touch, that simple contact, was breaking down the walls she had carefully constructed over the years.

Anya swallowed hard before continuing, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m not just… an android. Not just a weapon. Not a mere tool. I was designed for espionage, for infiltration. Virex, the corporation that built me, they… they made me biological. Too biological.” Her eyes darted around them, as though she half-expected someone to be listening. They weren’t, not yet. But she had to be careful. Always careful.

Jude stayed silent, trying to process the weight of Anya’s words.

“I have an actual uterus, Jude,” Anya continued, her words too direct, too blunt for the world they walked in. “It wasn’t an oversight. It was planned. One of the scientists thought it would make me more effective as a spy. As a weapon. To get in places no one could imagine. To fool people.” She paused, then added, voice so low it was almost lost in the hum of the city, “And it works. I can get pregnant.”

Jude’s heartbeat stuttered. The words struck her like a hammer. She stopped walking, pulling Anya to a halt with her, and stared at the android in disbelief. The neon lights painted half of Anya’s face in strange shades of red and purple, but it did nothing to mask the weight of what she’d just said.

“That’s… that’s insane,” Jude finally muttered, her mind racing. “You can’t—”

“I don’t have a choice,” Anya interrupted, her voice trembling with a tension that made Jude uneasy. “I didn’t ask for this, Jude. I didn’t ask to be made like this. It’s a weapon, a tool, a flaw I didn’t even know was there. But it’s real. I can create life. And that makes me dangerous. And vulnerable.”

Jude looked away, her mind whirling. “The Corps didn’t tell you?”

“No,” Anya replied, her eyes distant now, as if staring through the very walls of the district. “They didn’t need to. I wasn’t meant to live with this. I was designed to be a perfect weapon. But I am a creature of both flesh and metal, and that—” she faltered for a moment, eyes darkened with a quiet understanding of the implications, “—makes me something more than I was ever intended to be.”

Jude felt a strange pang in her chest. Something raw and visceral, something deep in her that responded to Anya’s confession, to the pain that was slowly unearthing itself in her words. She squeezed Anya’s hand tighter, though part of her was filled with dread at the dangerous path they were treading. The unknown path. The future seemed murky, full of things neither of them could control.

They were being hunted. Not just by the Corps, not just by shadowy players like SchizoNomad and The Court, but by forces far bigger than either of them could grasp.

But what scared Jude most wasn’t the danger, wasn’t the city, or even the fact that they were being pursued. It was this, this truth about Anya, and the sudden, terrifying clarity that she was now fully entangled in this chaos—emotionally, personally. That whatever she had with Anya was more than just survival. It was everything.

“We need to keep moving,” Jude muttered, shaking her head to clear it, the weight of the revelation still sinking in. “If they find out… you know they’ll want to dissect you. Anyone of those players.”

Anya nodded, her expression unreadable now, but Jude could feel the change. “I know. But we don’t have a choice either, do we?”

Jude didn’t answer. Instead, she tightened her grip on Anya’s hand and began walking again, moving through the alleys, past broken markets, and faded advertisements, the night closing in around them. The city was alive, breathing, and hungry, and somewhere in the depths of Amaretto, the predators were waiting.

But Jude wasn’t just running from them anymore. She was running with Anya, toward something even darker—and it terrified her.

The farewell

The rooftop erupted with chaos—footsteps pounding above, tiles crashing down like splintering glass. Jude barely had time to glance up before the sharp crack of a rifle echoed through the alley.

“Anya!” she screamed, but it was too late.

The bullet hit its mark with brutal precision, slamming into Anya’s chest. She staggered, her white coat erupting in red. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground with a sickening thud. Jude was there in an instant, dropping to her knees, hands instinctively pressing against the wound.

“Anya, no! Stay with me!” Jude’s voice cracked, but her words felt meaningless. The blood poured too fast, too much.

Anya’s eyes fluttered open, wide with shock. She tried to speak, her lips parting as if to form words, but all that came was a gurgling sound, wet and final. Her body shuddered once, then went still.

Jude froze, staring down at her in disbelief. It couldn’t be real. Not like this.

The sirens tore through her haze like a blade, their banshee wails bouncing off the narrow walls. Blue and red lights splashed over the scene, throwing the alley into chaotic relief. Jude’s hands, slick with Anya’s blood, trembled as the weight of it all crashed down.

She was out of time.

Her body screamed to move, but her eyes stayed fixed on Anya’s lifeless face, her once-bright expression now frozen in eerie stillness. The world blurred around her, the sounds of the city collapsing into a maddening cacophony.

A flutter of motion jerked her back to reality. Out of nowhere, a white duck swooped down, landing beside Anya’s body with an eerie grace. It cocked its head, almost curious, before pecking at her chest.

“What the hell...” Jude whispered, her voice hoarse, but before she could react, the bird’s beak snagged something—a small, metallic object embedded in Anya’s flesh. A chip.

“No!” Jude lunged forward, but the duck was already airborne, wings slicing through the choking smog as it vanished into the skyline.

The sirens grew louder, flashing lights spilling into the alley. Jude staggered to her feet, her mind a blur of rage and grief. She wanted to stay, to scream, to tear apart whoever had taken Anya from her—but she couldn’t. Not here.

“Damn it!” Jude spat, fists clenched as she forced herself to turn and run.

The death of romance

She bolted through the twisting alleys of the district, her boots slamming against the concrete, the chaos of the city swallowing her whole. Anya’s blood still clung to her hands, and the brutal truth echoed in her mind, relentless and cold:

Anya was gone. And Jude was alone.

Epilogue

The district never slept, its neon glow casting restless shadows over Jude’s weary face. Weeks had passed since the alley, but the memory of Anya’s bloodied body still haunted her every step. The ghost of her touch lingered, a phantom warmth Jude couldn’t shake.

She stayed on the move, slipping through the cracks of the chaotic city like a shadow. The Court’s threads were tightening, Virex agents always a step behind, and the mysterious duck—whatever it was - had vanished without a trace.

She kept her head low. Her once-sharp confidence had dulled, worn away by the weight of guilt and grief. Yet, in the quiet moments, when the hum of a terminal filled her dim room, she found herself thinking of Anya—not as the android tangled in corporate conspiracies, but as the fragile, aching soul who had reached out to her with something real.

Love.

The realization still cut her. She had loved Anya. And she had lost her.

One night, as rain drummed against the metal roof of her latest hideout, her terminal flickered to life. A notification blinked on the screen:

BBS incoming message
"Welcome to Carcosa BBS! Engage the grid. Unravel the chaos."

    SYSOP: //Le_Roi_en_Jaune\  
    Login: [BlackDahlia]  
    Password: ***** *** *****  

Connection Established
<<< Mainframe echoes >>> Uploading file: "Power_Lines_Carcosa.txt"

"Unknown Source. Message Encrypted."

Her stomach twisted. Fingers hovering over the keys, she hesitated. It could be a trap. It could be nothing. Or it could be...

She opened it.

The screen filled with static, then resolved into a single image: a white duck silhouetted against a blood-red sky. Beneath it, a single line of text appeared: “The thread is not cut. Amaretto calls.”

Jude stared at it, her chest tightening. She didn’t know what it meant, but a part of her, buried beneath layers of pain and doubt, stirred with something she hadn’t felt in weeks: purpose.

The streets beckoned. And so did the ghosts of the past.

The End