Like dust upon a drop of water, the dioxazinic gas had left its residue on every splatter, stain, and pool. Where fluid had been thin, Niko noticed small indentations pitting the walls and floor in crude trails. Wherever the VKA’s most gruesome work had occurred, large holes ate into the foundation and bore deep portals through to adjacent rooms and storage.

He’d seen it before and felt a line split his brows.

Overhead lights strobed each opening as low-power cycles pulsed down the length of the corridors. Niko grunted. Not for the first time, he rolled his ankle and used the silence as an excuse to ward off misgivings about his decision.

He looked through one of the melts and checked the room on the other side.

No one was there.

No one was anywhere. Everyone was dead.

How was he supposed to find anyone when he couldn’t see?

He stepped around the hollow of another fallen body, let out a sigh, and brushed a tangle of hanging wires out of his way. One of them, still hot, popped and sent a shower of yellow sparks through the air.

For a moment the corridor lit up, and Niko saw the destruction clearly. He jumped over a deep gash in the floor and stepped onto what was left of a red overcoat that seemed fused to the floor. His boot kicked a mangled joint servo out of the way and then he stopped.

The lights went out again, but he barely noticed.

A thought circled his mind, guided slowly toward his attention by the survival instincts that’d kept him alive through some of the worst the universe had shown him.

I’m sure I… I must have.

He waited for the lights to flicker again and stared at the cratered path ahead of him. Worried, he opened a command shell on his retinal overlay but found himself staring at the ruined corridor instead of writing a prompt.

His need to know hovered for a moment, and then the interface closed abruptly.

What I need right now is a way forward. I need to find whoever’s still in here, but where to look? Where didn’t they already look? Going back with nothing isn’t an option.

At least I have time.

His left hand slid toward the new wrist implant. Niko knew the odds of finding anything about the Corexis facility on the net would be exactly zero. Places like this didn’t exist on maps. Still, as much as he’d find no answers, being connected might do something for his mood.

He stopped himself from starting the connection.

As much as he wanted to, the medic had warned him. He didn’t believe her, but he couldn’t take the risk she was telling the truth.

True or not, she’d already messed with his head. He needed to find somewhere to hole-up. Somewhere to make it not matter.

Not here. I can’t do it here.

Niko cleared the rest of his overlay. Full organic meant less distractions. He told himself to push deeper.

The next corridor turned and ended abruptly in a heavy door, much like the one they’d stopped at when they’d been with Joao.

Only a night earlier.

Why did it feel so long ago?

Niko found a stairwell and crept slowly to the bottom. Down two floors, he found another door so twisted and battered that it seemed as if someone or something had wrenched it from its hinges.

Niko placed a foot on it, judged its fulcrum, and quickly stepped across the uneven surface with a clang and a racket.

Great. If anyone’s actually in here, now they know I am too.

This new level had even more destruction than the previous one. More corrosion and more damage from the VKA incursion. Most of the ceiling was collapsed, and sections of the walls and floor were badly cracked. Clear plastic patient gowns littered the floor; each thin sheet was numbered and looked like it’d been burned with by cigarette butts.

Niko moved slowly and deliberately, ready for the smallest hint of trouble.

Halfway down the main stretch, he saw an intersection in the shadows. His heel landed on a section of crumbled wall, and he looked down just as a power surge spiked. Out from between the rubble, a synthetic face stared up at him.

It caught him off-guard.

He stumbled, almost rolling his ankle, and stepped over to the opposite wall.

The geometry of the prosthetic was all wrong. Organic tissue and bone had long since melted into the subfloor, every gram fueling the hollow expression Niko shared with the grave.

He reached down and carefully picked up one of the orbital panels between his fingers. He told himself he’d never seen such a thin piece of synthskin just as it snapped under its own weight and fell into the debris.

Niko wondered if it’d been a patient or one of the soldiers. There were plenty of both around.

Better to let a ghost sleep than wake one with only half of a face; he left the rest of the pieces in the bottom of the hole and continued his push deeper.

At the intersection, Niko discovered solid footing. Only a short section of wall had been stippled with pockmarked lines. He wasn’t even sure if the holes were from gunfire or the gas.

Everything else looked remarkably intact, especially given what he just climbed over. He took the opportunity to sit. Back against the nearest corner, he leaned his head and allowed himself a moment to breathe.

How did I get here? A few weeks ago I was on the ODS scamming gen-u arrivals.

Before he knew it, his hand began rubbing his right wrist. He’d never been one to scratch at the itch of old wounds, but years of hacking had trained his mind to seek constant connection.

I should do it. I’ve nowhere else to be, and no one is watching. I’m not even sure there’s anyone else down here.

Niko’s fingers traced the incision and searched for the two small indents where the medic had shown him.

Go ahead. Connect.

“I’ll keep watch while you reset.”

Niko barely noticed the words but launched himself sideways as soon as the woman’s projection leaned over him.

Eyes wide, he kicked his feet to get away as much as to fight off the dull apparition.

Only after he realized it wasn’t pursuing him, he got his legs under himself and squared up with the woman.

“Mariposa,” his voice trembled.

The woman laughed, but her voice came across as bursts of static. Her projection seemed to be fighting the effects of the facility’s energy surges—or maybe she was causing them.

Before he said anything, she disappeared. A second later she reappeared a few steps to the side.

“What— What are you doing in here?” Niko asked, still cautious.

He watched the Corexis woman move her mouth, but he didn’t hear anything.

She seemed frustrated or maybe apologetic. Niko couldn’t tell which, though she kept trying to speak.

“What are you—”

She held up a hand and disappeared again. This time for longer.

Niko paced the intersection and felt the tendrils of disconnected solitude begin to take root again. Without thinking he brought parts of his overlay up and tried to scan the dim corners. Back and forth, he traced a path until his mind ached for stimulation.

Thinking he was alone again, Niko was just about to start walking when she reappeared in front of him.

He jumped back. “Ah! Stop doing that!”

“I— can’t help it. I’m using network hardware to align my projectors. The orientation code seems to be fouled on—.” Her voice cut out. “— and power drain can’t seem to—”

He looked at her blankly, expecting her words to return. She seemed to be trying to say something important.

“Can you hear me? My system— this is working, but if you can’t…”

“Yeah, I can hear you, but you keep cutting out. What do you want?”

“Attempting to increase output.” Her tone seemed relaxed, even though her posture remained just as rigid as when he’d met her. The clean appearance of her projection was uniquely out of place as she brightened. “Where were we? Oh, yes. I was telling you to connect your implant. The system tells me your wireless is offline.”

He looked down at his wrist.

“Were you…? I could have sworn you finished my…”

“Yes. As you probably already figured out, this facility is… or rather, was something of a sieve for a very particular pursuit.”

Niko wasn’t sure what she was talking about. At least not exactly.

He caught the woman studying him and moved his thoughts back toward whatever was next.

“I see I was mistaken. No matter. You’re asking yourself why this Corexis officer would care about you reconnecting your new implant.”

She wagged her finger toward his wrist.

“I’ve already had one person in my head today. If you want me to do whatever it is you need me to do, I suggest you learn to be content with your own thoughts.”

“Fair enough.” She started pacing. “It’s not like there’s a lot going on in there for entertainment anyway.”

Niko heard a low static pop in his cochlear implant. Faint. Barely discernible.

For a moment his mind was silent and his nerves relaxed.

“You need to reconnect the new implant. You need it to gain access to my patient.”

“Your patient? So you do need me to do something for you.”

She shook her head. “No. You need to do something for yourself. I simply know what that is. I know you’d love to back out of your deal with the colonel as much as you’d like to return to your former life of petty crime.”

“Like is a very strong word and sounds like corporate leverage. The last time I saw you, you were having me dragged off to a cell, even though I’d done nothing to you, your work, or your corporation. It’s your fault it was broken. And now, what? You suddenly care? Well isn’t that just too bad. I don’t need your sympathy or your help.”

Niko found himself standing closer to the Corexis officer. His hand sweeping the air in front of her artificial face.

“Whatever events transpired in the last day, it doesn’t make what I said any less true. Do as you like, but I know why the VKA didn’t scrap you. And I know why they’ve thrown you back in here. The woman who was with you told me everything. Why do you think I let her return to you? I knew you’d be back here.”

She backed away from him and began circling where he stood.

“Tell me, do you even know who you’re looking for? Did they tell you? Or did they just shove you back in through a hole in the wall like some rat in a maze? Those red bastards have taken over the facility… my facility. Years of research undone, just so they can hook their agenda back into you.”

She wasn’t even looking at him now. All of her attention was on the small indentations in the wall. “You’re right. I won’t hide it. Of course, I’m happy to watch you suffer, but I’m also happy to help you flip the table. You won’t get what you want without a wireless connection. That’s the only way this works. Until then, you’re even more disposable than everyone the VKA scrapped. Frankly, this is tedious. Even the daphemi units know their role, but you… you spend your life standing in your own way. Why? Because you got injured or you don’t like someone.”

Niko stared at her in silence.

The projection struggled to remain whole as she started moving further away. Twice around the intersection. Neither backed down.

Then she disappeared again.

Niko listened for the low hum in his ear but didn’t detect the frequency.

The hell does she know about what I’ve done? Where I’ve been… She has no idea. Does she really think she can just snap her fingers and watch the universe contort itself into pleasing her ambitions? Her revenge?

He knew she was manipulating him.

Even then.

He just didn’t know how, but he was sure she wasn’t on his side.

Despite that, she did have a point.

He wasn’t looking for her.

If he wanted to find his target, having a wireless connection to the security network would make his life easier. She might even tell him herself. Moreover, if he wanted to get out of the facility without walking right back into the Colonel’s cruel grip, he needed to work outside of his senses.

He refused to give her the satisfaction.

He’d make her wait while he explored every detail of every corridor. If there was a chance he could find this person without her or by proving her wrong, he’d take his time, make Baranov wait, and relish the idea of her smoldering discomfort.

Niko traced the wall to his left as it snaked from one wing of the floor back onto itself.

The facility had felt disorienting and amorphous when he’d first arrived. Now, between his old security report and his methodical investigation of each room, he understood the corridor layout wasn’t much more than a figure-eight with its longest lines skewed by asymmetry and a few extra corners.

It didn’t take long to find where João, Woojin, and him had stowed their belongings. In fact, Niko was pleasantly surprised to find the area was still smooth-walled.

He found the locker and retrieved his coat. His right hand slid into the pocket and found the clunky, old pistol he’d brought with him, even though his nerves could only recognize the shape as awkward and heavy. He put the pistol back in the pocket and slid his arms through the sleeves. Exhausted, he let his back slide down the wall until his butt connected with the floor.

At least now there’s a real way out. If she’s right… damn, that’s a dark thought.

Even after everything he’d been through, he’d never considered ending his own life. It was messed up.

Was he really that scared of it?

He moved his hand away from the opening of his pocket. Instead, his fingertips found the points the Ikari medic had shown him and squeezed hard, just like he’d been shown.

As soon as he released his grip, the implant activated. Niko tried to watch the connection status populate his overlay with signal scans, but his former surgeon had told him the truth. Blinding white pain washed over his nervous system. Had he even wanted to reach for his pistol, he couldn’t have. He lacked any sense of his body.

Consciousness is not flesh and bone.

Desire is nothing more than the gray matter trapped inside a skull. Every step. Every breath. Nothing but electrical impulse through a nervous system incapable of sustaining its maximum load.

Niko didn’t feel himself fall on his side. He didn’t feel himself curl into a ball and start shaking.

From his view, the dark corridors pulled back to reveal something primeval and atomic. Data, unchecked and unregulated, coursed through an implant before it could sync with its source.

It was all he could do to watch while his mind grew hotter, as his breathing sped up to match every byte of data.

Somewhere deep inside his thoughts, Niko knew he was overheating. He knew his limbs had locked up. And he knew somewhere, far above the corridor and the facility he was trapped in, satcom relays had picked him out as a coordinate of interest and were working to bring him back to life.

A child born of the stars. Motherless, and so the agony of birth was his alone to carry.

Niko realized he was clenching his teeth when he heard something crack. The realization wasn’t enough to stop him from tensing, but it was enough to distract him from the pain.

I need to remember that something broke. I need to remember that it needs to be fixed. Just remember.

Just remember.

I have to remember.

The thought slid into a loop of four simple words. Hollow at its core. He had no idea what he was supposed to remember, only that doing so was important.

He blinked.

Light became dark… and then light again.

The arc of his fingers reversed, as tendons spasmed and his nerves tripped.

Cheap organic circuit breakers reset.

Birth sin.

Organic guilt.

Every augmentation he’d ever had installed dragging him out of the past. Into the future of his species.

He blinked again.

This time he could see something. A shadow of white light against a sea of infinite bright.

It will take time. Be patient. All you have to do is remember to hang on. Just remember.

He blinked again, and this time there were words and symbols within the crashing waves.

Sedna.

Datasync.

Bandwidth. Limited.

Sedna. He tried to remember what it looked like. He’d seen it after the bombardments.

Sedna. A station.

Moonless and dark.

He’d seen images. The glow of fires beneath the fleet. The news clips showing impacts. Shockwaves washing over Neptune. He’d saved those moments to his memory and wondered if anything was left. If there was any way in.

Niko felt a tear run across his cheek, as a thought worse than suicide filled his mind. He began to remember; all new connections routed through the distant dwarf planet. The data relay had been attacked two years earlier, weeks before the bombardments.

What have I done?

Unable to move, see, or connect, Niko lay on his side crashing out while he waited for the universe to find him once more.