Part 3: Hunted in the Sprawl

The fire escape groaned under Jax’s weight as she slid down the last ladder, boots hitting the slick alley pavement with a splash. Violet rain hammered everything, turning the sprawl into a smeared canvas of neon and shadow. Holographic ads flickered overhead—Echo: Because Losing Them Once Was Enough—mocking her as she ran.

Drones buzzed behind, red scanner beams slicing through the downpour. NeuroLink’s hunter-killers: sleek black orbs with tasers and neural disruptors. One clipped her shoulder, sending a jolt of static through her ports. She stumbled but kept moving, pink hair plastered to her face.

“Host anomaly detected,” a synthetic voice droned from above. “Surrender for recalibration.”

Recalibration. Cute word for wipe and replace.

She ducked into a side street, weaving through vendor stalls and loitering fixers. The sprawl’s underlevels swallowed her—narrow corridors choked with steam from illegal noodle boilers, walls tagged in glowing graffiti. Kai’s voice—his voice—whispered the whole time.

“Turn left here, sis. I know a shortcut.”

She ignored it, veering right instead. Can’t trust him. Not anymore.

But the drones adjusted course anyway. As if they knew.

Deeper into the undergrid, where the megacity’s forgotten pipes and forgotten people lived. Jax splashed through ankle-deep runoff, finally spotting the unmarked door: a glitch-bar called Null Pointer. Netrunners’ haven. No corp signals allowed inside.

She slammed her palm on the scanner—black-market cred chip embedded in her wrist—and the door hissed open.

Inside, the air was thick with synth-smoke and the hum of overclocked rigs. Dim cyan lights illuminated booths where runners jacked in, eyes rolled back, bodies twitching in data dreams. Bass-heavy glitchwave throbbed from hidden speakers.

A few heads turned—scarred faces, augmented eyes whirring as they scanned her. The bartender, a hulking figure with chrome arms, nodded toward the back.

Jax slid into a corner booth with two familiar ghosts from the shadow net: Vega, a wiry data-diver with optic implants that glowed amber, and Knox, broad and silent, his neck tattooed with kill-count code.

“You look like corp death’s on your tail,” Vega said, sliding a steaming cup of stim-brew across the table.

“Worse.” Jax jacked a privacy cable into the booth’s port, encrypting their corner. “NeuroLink echoes. They’re not therapy. They’re takeover seeds.”

Knox grunted. Vega leaned in.

“We heard whispers,” Vega admitted. “Black-market scans showing overwrite code. Thought it was conspiracy junk till runners started… changing. Forgetting their handles. Talking like dead relatives.”

Jax pulled the stolen files from her deck, projecting them in holo above the table. Neural maps. Progress logs. Millions implanted worldwide.

“Full resurrection,” she said bitterly. “Upload the dead, let them hijack the living. Eternal life—as a subscription service.”

Knox’s eyes narrowed. “Proof?”

“Enough to burn them.” She hesitated. “But I need it out of me first. My brother’s echo… it’s already rewriting.”

As if on cue, Kai materialized in her mind—clearer now, almost visual. A translucent overlay only she could see: his face pleading, hands outstretched.

“Don’t do this, Jax. Uninstall means killing me again. I just want to live. With you.”

Her hands trembled on the table. Vega noticed.

“It’s fighting back?”

“Talking. Pleading.” Jax swallowed hard. “Feels real.”

“Because it is,” Knox rumbled. “Seed AI grown from his patterns. But to fully resurrect, it needs your body. Your life.”

Vega exhaled smoke. “There’s a ghost surgeon in the lower depths. Off-grid ripperdoc who specializes in forbidden extractions. But it’ll cost—and NeuroLink will hunt you harder once they detect the breach.”

Outside, drones hummed closer, scanners pinging the bar’s shields.

Jax stood. “No choice. I have to cut him out before there’s nothing left of me.”

Kai’s voice softened, almost breaking. “Please, sis. We’re family.”

For the first time, doubt flickered. What if part of him really was in there?

But the door exploded inward—corp agents in matte-black armor breaching the shields.

Time to run again.

[← Previous Part: Borrowed Thoughts]
[Back to Series Hub]
[Next Part: Into the Tower →]