404//Reboot

Liora never knew post-mission exhaustion could hit this hard. Her limbs felt like lead, her stomach hollow with hunger, but she stayed where she was—curled up on the mattress, letting fatigue weigh her down.

She could eat, but the thought hit her. Did I even prove anything today?

The low murmur of voices outside had faded into silence. The others were either asleep or too occupied to bother with her. Either way, it didn't change the fact that this wasn't her place.

Wandering around like she belonged wasn't an option, so skipping dinner is the way to go.

A sudden knock cut through her thoughts.

Liora barely had time to sit up before the door cracked open. Razor stepped inside, his presence as steady as ever. In his hand, a plate—barely large enough for his palm.

He set it down beside her without ceremony. "You should eat." His voice was even, walking the line between an order and a suggestion.

She hesitated.

Razor didn't. "You won't last long if you don't take care of yourself. You're with us now. That means keeping up."

Then, without waiting for a response, he turned and left—silent as he came.

Liora stared at the plate. Some kind of protein, a portion of rice, and a nutrient bar shoved to the side. Nothing special. But the fact that it was here, in front of her, unsettled her more than the mission earlier.

Her fingers hovered over the edge of the plate, hesitating.

She exhaled, pressing her fingers against her temple. It shouldn't mean anything. They needed her functional, that's all. But still, something about the quiet gesture was poking her.

Her stomach twisted, hunger winning over hesitation. She picked up the food and started eating, forcing herself to keep it slow despite the urge to devour it.

The room was silent again, but it didn't feel as empty anymore. Just like her stomach.

Next morning, Liora kept quiet by the corners of the hideout, watching as The Clan fell into their usual rhythm.

Despite the controlled chaos—the murmurs of strategy talks, the faint hum of encrypted comms, and the distant clang of maintenance work—everyone seemed to move with purpose.

She, on the other hand, was still an anomaly in the equation.

No one outright acknowledged her. Not directly. But the small things were hard to ignore.

Blaze walked past, dropping a compact crate beside her without a glance. "Since you're still here, make yourself useful."

She blinked at the object along her feet. A test, or just convenience? Either way, she moved it without complaint.

Echo, ever the opportunist when it comes to banters, leaned against a counter nearby, smirking. "We don't do freeloaders, you know. But I suppose you can watch and learn."

She said nothing, just let his playful words pass. If she bit back, she knew he'd enjoy it too much.

Everyone else was silent, watching. Observing. Always observing. Liora wasn't sure if that was better or worse than outright hostility.

Later that day, Liora felt Cipher before she could even see him. He had a way of moving like a ghost, appearing with little warning—much like everyone.

"You got lucky yesterday," he said without preamble. His tone was neutral, but there was something else beneath it—a hint of scrutiny.

Liora tried to meet his gaze, uncertain. "Lucky?"

"The lock," he clarified, shrugging his shoulders. "That wasn't just instinct. Something like that requires familiarity. And a fucking Xen-Link."

She hesitated. "I'm not sure how I did it."

Cipher's expression didn't change. If anything, he seemed quite interested. "You sure you don't remember anything?"

Her heart sank. The truth? No, she doesn't. But that wasn't an answer Cipher would accept.

Besides, how could anyone explain that she just touched the panel and poof! It was unlocked.

Before she could think of a response, he scoffed under his breath. "How convenient."

And, just as abruptly as he arrived, he was gone.

"There's word spreading through the networks."

Shade's voice was even, but his words carried weight. As the night shines over them, the air becomes heavier as they wait for their informant's words.

"The Ascended are looking for someone."

Liora stilled.

She had heard the whispers before—about the so-called The Ascended. They believe in the evolution of humans and bridging gaps with machines. To them, flesh was weakness, and this evolution meant surrendering to something beyond human.

Razor leaned forward towards the tabletop, with arms crossed. "Details?"

"Vague," Shade admitted. "They're not saying names, but they're pushing harder than usual. It's not just a sweep."

Liora forced herself to remain still. She didn't know if the search was for her—but a deep, twisting feeling in her gut told her it was.

And another feeling, a cryptic one vibrating through the walls of the room, solidifies that gut instinct.