Page 28 of GlitchBorn Heart

I tear off to the elevator, eyes focused, mind already in motion. “LINK—it’s still curfew. I need curfew clearance immediately. State that it is a Code3 Anomaly.”

Nothing for a beat.

I pace back and forth outside the elevator doors, the silence deafening. A punch of stale air hits me in the face as the doors open, once inside, the panel awakens, and her mechanical voice booms:

GRANTED DR. RYUDON

SEE YOU AT THE LAB

The doors hiss open, and the smell of exhaust and oil hit me as I enter the garage. My bike is waiting for me, sleek, matte black, the kind of machine that doesn’t whisper speed, it promises it. The digital instrument cluster flickers to life as I swing one leg over, the soft hum of the engine dropping into a low growl like a caged animal.

“LINK—fastest route to the lab, send it to my GPS,” I order.

LINK auto-connects to the bike’s AI-driven GPS and plots a route, safe, straight, and efficient.

THERE ARE STREET CLOSURES

ETA: 15 MINUTES DR. RYUDON

I smirk. “Override,” I whisper under my breath as the engine roars beneath me.

LINK hesitates, just a fraction of a second.

“My way,” I add, voice low.

LINK can calculate ETAs or chart optimal routes, but she can’t feel this city the way I do.

I punch the throttle, and the bike shoots forward like a bullet through the veins of Oneiro.

Neon bleeds across the wet pavement in a riot of colors: pink, violet, green, each reflection shimmering as my tires tear through the slick streets. Towering billboards blur above, selling more shit we don’t need but are urged to consume. Corporate logos illuminate the corners of the dark night as I lean into the speed, my knee almost scraping the ground.

The rain comes down harder, as I shift gears, the wind whipping through the seams of my jacket. I don’t fight it, letting the wind claw at me, the cold rips the breath from my lungs. This is where my mind quiets. Where control isn’t just an illusion.

I slice the bike between autonomous CIC Corp-cars crawling through their overnight patrol routes, scanners sweeping sidewalks and doorways. I miss a bumper by inches, close enough to feel heat on the side of my boot. The growl of the engine turns into a howl as the bike skims over the puddled pavement.

Overhead, a drone patrol buzzes past, lights piercing the rain. I don’t look up. If they lock on now, it will take too much time to check my clearance. They’ll never catch me anyway.

The city dissolves into a blur of motion.

Alleys whip by like knife slashes. Giant holo-screens attached to corporate spires light my visor in fractured bursts. Raindrops splatter across the glass, spiderwebbing outward with every jolt of the engine.

I take a turn down a half-flooded service road, past a collapsed construction barrier still tagged with rebellion sigils. The bike jerks beneath me, gears screaming as I skim across the pavement. I stay with it, breathing in the rush of adrenaline.

The anomaly ping flares again in my comm. Stronger now.

Good.

I reach up, finger brushing the comm built into my visor as I swerve through a narrow gap between two automated street cleaners grinding slowly along. “LINK,” I bark over the engine’s howl, “call Ash.”

The bike growls beneath me, as I shift once more, even faster. Someone is about to learn why running from me only makes the hunt worse.

CALLING ASH DR. RYUDON

LINK connects with a click, then static. Ash’s lazy drawl crackles through, punctuated by an absence of background noise. “Kael? It’s the middle of the night, man. I just got to bed after my gig. You finally calling to tell me you missed me? Or is this a booty call?” He chuckles.

“Very funny,” I comment dryly. I duck under a low flying delivery drone, the glow of its yellow light flashing over my helmet as I thread the needle between two concrete pillars. “Two anomalies. Huge ones. Lit up the whole damn grid a few minutes ago.” I clipped, “Where were you tonight?”

I push the bike harder, my body crouching lower. My reflection snaps across a line of shop windows in a strobe of lightning, black leather, color-drenched visor, a shadow made of speed and rain.