Nestra was now facing an unexpected issue. In the past weeks, she’d been living her best life as her demon self, with human Nestra taking a backseat, only leaving the house for the occasional social outing. And pastries. She’d driven her pink roadster around but that was just to meet friends and family. Human Nestra was professionally on leave until the heat of the Gidung debacle died down. She hadn’t contacted anybody. Well, not anybody new anyway. A quick text to Claire confirmed that her aunt wasn’t responsible for the offer. “Is it a date? Is someone mistaken? It could also be work-related. ¯_ (ツ)_/¯ .” Nestra rolled her eyes behind her visor. Of course it wasn’t job related. Officer Kim wouldn’t forget to send her a file, not with how anal she was about preparations, not to mention the invitation wasn’t just any invitation. It was the VIP of all VIP invitations that came with a hover limo ride and even complimentary Champagne. Not bubbly. Champagne. From Riel-damned France. This was the kind of offer one sent out to guild officers of upper management from an actual megacorp, not some idiot failure working as a grunt for the police rat squad. The only recent link she had with art was with the fucking serial killer. Surely it wasn’t that. Out of ideas, Nestra called the fancy private art gallery where the exhibition was to take place. They confirmed the invitation. “The Collective’s yearly gala is such a great occasion. I am certain you will have a fantastic time,” the mellifluous voice of the receptionist cooed in her ear. “Only Threshold’s best artists convene for the occasion.” “Then you’re a damn genius,” Nestra admitted. “Ah, genuine, truthful appreciation. How rare. How refreshing! Come, let’s go walk around a bit. Have you been to the second floor yet?” “As a gesture of welcome, please let me show you what our young candidates have brought for us in the hope of joining our hallowed ranks.” The woman carefully grabbed Nestra’s elbow, guiding her to the door once it was clear Nestra was ok with being touched. She babbled all the way down to a much more crowded second floor. There were also a lot more baselines. Security guards marked the third floor as exclusive without invitation. “And over here is the globe as wood and steel intertwined.” Teneru’s explanation fell on deaf ears. The only thing Nestra could do was watch a certain painting standing in a corner, gathering a lot of attention despite its unfavorable placement. It was an eye surveying an oniric, sometimes nightmarish landscape made of scraps and bones. The wild color palette made the work a dizzying fantasmagoria, but it was truly the eye that drew Nestra’s attention. It was that of a human, plain, not even gleaming, yet it was the most vibrant part of the arrangement. Nestra was absolutely certain she’d seen that style before. The same wild colors. The same focus on eyes. In the mausoleum where she’d found the dead pyromancer. The serial killer’s first site. It was them. Her instincts told her this was the killer’s work. Teneru blinked, caught off guard by the non sequitur. She moved past to peek at Nestra’s object of attention. “Oh, that? Sorry darling, this one comes from an anonymous contender. How mysterious! How exciting, I know. The unknown artist only joined the list of candidates this year, I believe.” “Are they not anonymous?” “Darling, I can recognize someone by their style and this person? It’s the first time they have joined the race.” Teneru’s eyes narrowed, though she was still smiling. “Dreamy, but with something fundamentally disturbing. It’s the eye, I think. The baseline eye, separate from the magical chaos. Hmm. Do you like it?” “I, errrr, dunno. It’s certainly remarkable. Are pictures okay?” “Probably not, but as long as you don’t post them somewhere then it should be fine. Is something the matter?” What the hell was she even doing? Her knowledge of art was so rudimentary, she had no reasons to be sure the painters were even the same. Ah, but then, who had invited her? Was it the killer? It would be unfathomably cheeky. In the end, signaling the eerie similitudes was still easy. Let the brass decide what to do. Nestra selected a screenshot, wrote a short message to Kim and then left off. The worst that could happen would be her boss thinking she was too bored. Teneru led Nestra through a few more rooms, but she found it difficult to focus. If the person who had invited her was indeed the killer, then she was deep in shit. Super deep in shit. The last thing she needed was the attention of a serial killer capable of taking out C-rank raiders. Why even target her at all? She wasn’t a gleam! Was this about her finding the first body? Wait, no, maybe she was just imagining things, really, and just trying to find connections at all costs. She wasn’t the universe’s main character and everything didn’t revolver around her. But then, who invited her? Aaaaargh! She apologized before deciding to take an early leave. Anxiety was ruining her mood. “I can tell you are spooked, friend. I understand,” her new guide allowed. “Can I ask you a question?” Nestra said on a hunch. “Why, yes. Several even!” “Why are you being nice to me?” Teneru nodded, unsurprised. “Aaaah but that is the thing. Am I being nice to you? Or can it not be expected, as an acquaintance of your clan, that I would welcome you here after seeing you arrive alone?” “Ah, ehm, I had never considered the question.” “If you were a gleam like me there would not be a question, but you are not, and somehow everyone is making it a problem. It is not fair to you. It is also a stark reminder of the sort of society we live in. Discrimination and an increasingly rigid social structure, even among us gleams. I, as an artist, am weak. If I were not rich and famous, those people would not give me the time of the day. I am merely treating you how I would wish to be treated.” A part of Nestra cynically noted that they only knew each other because Nestra was from a rich family. The worst thing was, Teneru was still being nice and open compared to the others, just by being willing to be seen with her and by guiding her around. That was the state of things. Drabs ought to be grateful if treated as equals. “Thanks,” Nestra said half-heartedly. “There is no need for gratitude. I hope you find your peace of mind soon.” They split then, Teneru moving to speak to a journalist who had hailed her earlier. Nestra made her lonely way back to the third floor. The guards didn’t stop her once more, and she was soon near the rooftop exit before remembering she had to call the limo before it could come pick her up. Curses. For the next fifteen minutes, she trawled through the collection. The VIP social gathering had spread throughout the floor by then. High gleams and their entourage moved in small groups, exchanging words in hush whispers. They moved around Nestra like fishes swimming around a rock. For all intents and purposes, she didn’t exist, except as a vague obstacle. They didn’t even look at her. Now, the fancy gray dress felt like a silly and unnecessary expense because no amount of nice fabric would ever make her anything but a drab. A beep in her visor grabbed her attention. It was Kim, with a one-line message. “I ran the painting through a predictive AI. There is a plausible chance for a match. Be careful.” The last two minutes before the limo arrived were some of the longest of her life. Finally, she jumped into the hover car and only breathed a sigh of relief after the doors closed. No weird mana constructs around. No presence. She was fine, for now. Maybe she needed some sort of protection detail? The limo rose through the night air. It was dark now, and though human Nestra’s night vision was decent for a human, the city was still an ocean of darkness dotted with tiny islands of light as the limo flew away from the center and towards the— Nestra’s heart jumped against her ribcage. A screen lit in the flat pane in front of her. CONNECTION LOST. Emergency landing initiated. She checked her visor. She pressed on her ‘oh shit’ button on the spot, but she was mid-flight and knew help would take some time to come. Gah! She’d probably been hit by some sort of jammer, and whatever it was, it was not good. Ok, if a hovercar with no driver lost connection with Threshold’s ground control for any reasons, it would always be forced to land for safety reasons. Midair collisions were often fatal, even to gleams. But someone wanted her down and the timing was suspicious. She needed time. Time and distance. “Passenger request. I am requisitioning this vehicle as Nestra Palladian, Officer with the Threshold Police Internal Affairs.” CONNECTION LOST. Request logged. Opening control panel. Impersonation of a police officer is a class one felony. The panel slid open to reveal an extremely basic joystick control thing a child could use. A screen showed the ground and the front of the car in black and white because of the basic night vision. Her attempt to go up failed. She was restricted by both speed and altitude. The car was still steadily going to land, the only choice she had was where. Right now, the projected landing spot was in a small green spot in the middle of mid-sized office buildings. There was an unmarked van parked there. Nestra smashed the buttons, managing to curve the trajectory. The only building she could reach was a vertical parking lot with big empty spaces where windows ought to be. It was mostly deserted now in the evening. Warnings and proximity alerts screeched in her ears but she managed to stop on the concrete roof without scratching the paint. “Passenger request. Open the fucking door.” Suggestion: stay until help The door obliged, and Nestra was out and sprinting in an instant. She ran parallel to green space, looking down to street level. Four figures were running there under the pale blue light of the streetlamps. Augs from the speed and relative lack of grace. Nestra didn’t even try the elevator. They would be here before she reached ground level. What to do? She raced along the edge of the roof, searching for solutions. Seconds ticked. There, two floors below. A covered passage between this building and the next. Nestra crashed against the nearest stairs thankfully open. She considered activating the fire alarm but it might lock stuff. Her visor went back online. She immediately shared her location and her feed. Just needed to stay ahead. Riel, they might even give up. And who the hell were they anyway? She raced down, hearing the distant pangs of metal soles battering concrete. In front of her, the lift turned on. Nestra breathed deep. Augs could climb very fast with the right tools. She didn’t have the time to wait. Veering left, she approached the edge of the building. The thick windows in front of her were dark and foreboding. The evening air burnt in her lungs. Nestra jumped, first on the ledge, then over the passage. Her feet landed heavily on the roof. She rolled to offset the shock, thanking past Nestra for buying good shoes. A maintenance access beckoned in the distance. She tried it. Nestra looked around for a solution. Rungs lodged in the outer walls of the passage allowed her to lower herself just as an aug raced along the slope of the parking building, back where she came from. She saw chrome shimmering from under a ratty hoodie. The leg model was familiar. Military grade but… ancient? The aug disappeared out of sight. Nestra didn’t wait. She lowered herself to the side of the passage and found an unlocked window, which she pushed open with her fingers and enough swear words to make a sailor blush. Inside, the temperature was colder. The next door led to the inside of the office building. Bright neon letters announced that this was the headquarters of TianWu Avionics. A huge drone took half of the lobby. There was no one behind the welcome desk. Behind her, she heard a bang. Like a locked door being slammed open. An alarm started to ring. How did they find her? Whatever, no time. She rushed towards the nearest door, finding it locked. Another one led to a back office filled with supplies. There was a fire extinguisher there, which she grabbed. If only she’d taken her car, dammit! She could have stashed her Window Maker and shot the assholes. Another door, leading to stairs. Noise in the room she’d just left. She heard a click click she could recognize anywhere. A DNA tracker. That shit cost at least forty thousand cred a unit. Someone really, really wanted her. She raced up, but she knew it would be over soon. An aug jumped on the landing she’d just left, tracker exposed. He was holding a stun baton in his other hand. Their eyes met. He was wearing an actual balaclava like it was 2030, dark skin visible in the holes. Military augments peeked from behind his clothes. Ancient Kang actuators and a Gidung mesh from two decades ago merged in some sort of unholy matrimony of intellectual property violations. Nestra pulled the pin and sprayed him with fire-retardant foam. He swore. She threw the extinguisher in his face for good measure, but his raised arm blocked most of the impact. A resounding bong reverberated in the narrow staircase. The man fell with a yelp. Nestra raced up. A bang made her flinch. Firearm? No, not loud enough. Fluttering conversations in a language she didn’t know fused. Her visor struggled, jammed once again. Another bang. A hit in her leg, like being slapped. She fell to the side. Her eyes searched the wound with panic but there was only a bruise there. Soft rubber bullet then? They really wanted her alive, but why? Two of the four augs stopped in front of her. They were short, she decided, and professional, but not used to kidnapping or they would know how ridiculous they were being. “You guys are idiots.” The left aug, the leader, grabbed her arm. He placed manacles on them. “Shut up,” he replied in broken English. They dragged her down. “Took too long,” she said. “Now you won’t escape. You should have run when you could.” “Quiet! You keep quiet. Or else.” “Or else what. I hope you were well paid to get me. Do you even know who I am?” “You are target, and you quiet or you die.” They pushed her through the lobby. The alarm was still ringing. Not that the police would be there on time anyway. “Nu-uh, you were told to capture me alive. Or else you wouldn’t have bothered.” “You very expensive girl, but your legs not.” The second man warned off the first and Nestra’s next barb didn’t get her an answer. Too bad because she was sure she could get some answers while they felt in control. “You know I’m a Palladian, right? You know what it means? It means you’re already fucked.” They were back in the passage. The man slapped her. Not too strongly. She still felt that sting very keenly, probably because no one had dared to do it in a decade. Her demon self growled beneath the surface. Nestra kept herself in check with a reminder this was a game, and if she came out of this free with her Mask intact, then it was her victory. “You’re gonna regret this in three seconds.” “Shut up. You are jammed. You have no hope.” But they had not jammed magic. And Nestra’s beacon, lit by her oh-shit button, that one was magic. Mana rose. Earth mana, specifically. The end of the passage was right here. The wall folded like a flower and a woman in dragon-decorated scale armor stepped in through the petals. Magic like a wave crashed against the two augs like a hammer. It froze them in their tracks. Two orbs like boulder-tossing hurricanes found the poor fuckers. The high gleam breathed in, a hiss that promised violence. Her seething rage made Nestra gasp. It was so powerful, so raw and intense it was almost solid. There was now more mana in the enclosed space than human Nestra had ever experienced. Aunt Claire punched the nearest aug’s head clean off. One moment, she was standing there, the next there was a ghastly crunch and bits of brains on the wall. The B-class raider was already pulling the second aug’s arms off their metal sockets before Nestra could even speak. The shriek of tortured metal drilled her ears. “Claire. Aunt Clecle!” “We need to interrogate them! We need them alive! Riel dammit.” The aug was babbling incoherently by now. Nestra checked her dress. No brain bits, at least, or the evening would have been ruined for good. Claire snarled. She tossed the mangled, but still breathing, aug away. The body bounced on the ground once before coming to a rest. “Did you get the others?” Nestra asked in a hurry. “There are more?” Claire replied with the face of a child being promised a second Christmas. “At least two. Please keep—” A woosh and Claire was gone. “Keep your temper in check,” Nestra finished telling the wall. “Riel dammit, Clecle.” “Ok great. Seriously though, what took you so long! You were just a minute away.”