Page 31 of GlitchBorn Heart

The Art of War teaches that a skilled general does not predict an opponent’s next move but rather controls the opponent’s actions and exploits the opportunities the opponent creates.

Order is my religion. Control, my craft.

And tonight, something has dared to challenge both.

“Ember, update!” I throw my gloves and helmet on the counter but stop dead in my tracks when not only Ember looks up at me but also Vikktor Vosse, her father and CEO of VikkCorp. One of the largest corporations in existence. Alarm bells ring in my head like a warning only I can hear, urgent and unbearable. I can’t help but feel I’m walking in at the worst possible moment, unknowingly.

At the very center of the lab sits the AI DataCore, a towering cylindrical chamber of black glass veined with pulsing neon conduits. It rises two stories tall, cables like steel vines wrapping into its spine. Vikktor and Ember stand at the bottom of it, talking in low, hushed tones. A small black device backlit with blue-white lines, sleek and menacing, glows faintly between them. It resembles one of the small thumb drives Ember carries on her. She nervously stuffs it into her tech scarf as I approach.

“Four a.m. and Vikktor Vosse is in the lab? Is it my birthday? Company anniversary?” I quip. My soul is satisfied whenever I can sow the seeds of dissent.

Vikktor is my height, my match in posture, and impeccably dressed with the same tailored suits. My presence is sharp and disciplined; his is calculated and just plain menacing. Power clings to him like a magnet.

He tilts his head slightly, a gesture that draws attention to the stark silver of his hair, unnaturally bright beneath the lab’s lights. His cold, piercing gray eyes aren’t just looking at me, they’re taking inventory. He’s probably here to measure my weaknesses, decide if I’m worth the effort to come all the way down the elevator.

When he places a hand on my shoulder, it isn’t friendly or fatherly—it’s ownership.

The pressure is light, deliberate, a reminder of just how charismatic and manipulative he can be. He’s done this before to others and especially to me. His touch carries the unspoken threat that he doesn’t need to raise his voice to make you comply. The menace is in his calm demeanor, in the certainty that the city and all its citizens will bend to his will, simply because he decided you should.

I stand my ground. This is my domain; the lab is my creation.

Vikktor smiles anyway, an easy grin that tells me he’s hiding something. I don’t trust whatever it is. He most likely intends to use it to test me.

“Kael. You made good time.” Vikktor draws the moment out, stretching his wrist away from the crisp starched sleeve of his shirt. His holographic cufflinks shimmer to life, cycling through corporate ads and our logo. He glances at his luxury watch, both an unnecessary display of wealth and a reminder of who controls our time.

Ember stays silent, clearly torn between loyalties...for now. “I was just speaking with Ember,” he continues casually, as if discussing a scheduling error instead of a city on the brink of an anomaly collapse. “My CIC special ops team has recommended a solution to our non-citizen problem. I thought it prudent to bring her in to help update the system during TheKast.”

Update. Yeah right...the word doesn’t sit well with me.

“Update the system?” I repeat, already moving past him. “You mean my system?”

I stop in front of the wall of screens, anomaly alarms continuing to cascade in red, code spilling down the margins like blood. The city grid is mine to command, mine to protect. He just keeps the lights on.

I turn back slowly, letting the silence stretch. “What exactly does this update do?”

My eyes flick from Vikktor back to Ember, a game I like to play to see who will break first under my stare. She won’t meet my gaze.

Huh...guess I am intimidating after all.

And in that hesitation, I know. Whatever he’s planning, he doesn’t want me to know.

“I know how busy you are down here with the cybernetic project, so I had my special ops team prepare the update. The mayor is pushing for it to happen sooner rather than later.” He walks toward the door casually. “Ember will take care of it in TheKast tomorrow evening.” He opens the door with a quick scan of his thumb. “I expect a full report this afternoon on the status of those two anomalies, Dr. Ryudon.” He nods toward the grid. “That will be your focus for today.”

I turn away from him to study the map. “Two anomalies, synced. Power spikes off the charts. What the hell happened tonight?” I question Ember as we begin focusing on the blinking lights.

Ember shrugs, feigning disinterest: “A lot of noise. We’ll have to call it in.”

“Noise? That’s not what it sounded like when you called me at three a.m.” I raise my eyebrows at her letting her know I can see straight through her act. Ember doesn’t flinch, but her lips press into a tight line, fingers tapping the edge of the console nervously.

“Noise doesn’t sync like this,” I add. “Two anomalies appearing at the same exact second? That’s not accidental, that’s intentional.”

Vikktor clears his throat behind me, his polished tone sliding in like a virus in the code. His hand holds the door to the lab open. “Kael, you know what to do. TheKast has a way of drawing outliers. They surge hot, then vanish. Nothing to waste resources on. Locate and delegate to the CIC teams. Get rid of it.”

I turn slowly to face him. The overhead lights cast harsh shadows across his sharp cheekbones, but his eyes remain cold and calculating. He stands in the doorway, the lab door buzzing, trying to close. He’s daring it, and us to respond.

Ember doesn’t look up, just keeps her focus glued to the grid, its neon web flaring with two pulsing points. She tries to play it cool, but I catch the twitch of her jaw, the faintest hesitation before she types in a new string of commands.

The map shifts, data lines rearranging. The anomalies dim slightly, contained but not erased. I see it. She knows I see it.