“They expect intrusion,” I say.
“They always do,” Vihl replies.
“No,” I correct, stepping forward into the open. “They expect violence.”
He watches me for a second, then nods slowly. “And we’re not giving them that.”
“Not immediately.”
The distinction hangs between us, sharp and deliberate.
I move out from cover without hesitation, letting myself become visible as I cross into the perimeter’s line of sight. The guards react instantly, their weapons snapping up, their stances tightening as recognition hits. I can see it in their eyes before they even speak, that moment where training collides with instinct.
Reaper.
The word does not need to be said.
“Stand down,” one of them calls, his voice strained. “State your purpose.”
I stop just inside the boundary, far enough that they can pretend they still hold the line, close enough that they know they do not.
“I’m here for your employer,” I say.
“Identify yourself,” he demands.
I tilt my head slightly, letting the light catch along the edges of my bone spurs, watching the way his gaze flickers despite himself.
“You already know what I am,” I reply. “Names won’t help you.”
Vihl steps up beside me, his grin sharp and unapologetic. “Trust me,” he adds, “you don’t want this part to take longer than it has to.”
The guards exchange a glance, silent communication passing between them before one of them taps his comm.
“Sir,” he says, voice tight. “We have visitors.”
I don’t wait for permission.
I move forward.
The moment I cross the threshold, I feel the security system react, not through sight but through pressure, a subtle shift in the air as the grid attempts to identify and categorize me. My implants hum faintly in response, disrupting the signal just enough to introduce noise without triggering alarms.
“Now,” I say quietly.
The lights flicker once, then stabilize.
“Left corridor’s down,” one of my crew reports over the link. “Camera feeds looping.”
“Internal sensors lagging,” another voice adds. “Three-second delay.”
“Keep it clean,” I say. “No unnecessary damage.”
Vihl exhales sharply. “You keep saying that like it’s easy.”
“It is if you’re not sloppy,” I reply.
We move through the estate without resistance, not because they cannot stop us, but because they are trying to understand what we are doing. That hesitation is more valuable than force. Confusion spreads faster than fear if it is applied correctly.
The interior air is thicker, the resin scent stronger, clinging to the back of my throat as we pass through the main hall. Symbols line the walls, glowing faintly, their patterns repetitive in a way that feels less like belief and more like enforcement.
