Pre checked her com. No answer from Xinder. Maybe he'd been on his way home, didn't see the text, then was locked out. It wouldn't be the first time that happened. She went to the door and looked through the peephole.

Two people stood there, neither of them Xinder. One was tall and thin, olive-skinned, with a smattering of freckles across a handsome face. The other one was small, slight, almost dainty in appearance. They both wore nondescript clothing - black button-up shirts (long sleeve, no bands visible) and jeans.

Pre watched, holding her breath, as the taller one knocked on the door again.

Zer0's words echoed in her mind. Was this "them"? The ones she should be running from? She peeked outside again. They didn't seem threatening. If anything, their expressions were bored, almost routine.

"Hello?" the tall one called out. "Sorry to disturb you, but we're from Connext. We're looking for Preah Devisana. We're here to assist with her faulty program."

Faulty program? It sounded sensible. If she hadn't looked at Tox, she wouldn't have thought twice about it. Nothing to worry about - just the troubleshooting team for Connext.

Another thought occurred to her. How did they know where she was? Her official address was her apartment in the shell. They shouldn't have known she was here at Xinder's.

Her worry was bubbling up again but this time it came with clarity, precision. If Zer0 was right, if these people were coming for her, they wouldn't give up and leave if she didn't answer the door. They knew, somehow, that she was there. She didn't know what they wanted, but she knew it wasn't good. Her only options were to fight or flee.

She looked around, weighing her options. The sprawling skyline of the core was a harsh reminder of how far off the ground she was. The elevator was the only safe way down, and the path to it was blocked by these two. Fleeing wasn't going to be an option; she would have to fight.

Deliberately, lightly, she inched away from the door towards the kitchen. A weapon, she needed a weapon. As she crept, step by step, she heard the people outside say something to each other. Then there was a different sound at the door, a slight tapping and clicking. A moment later, the latch clicked and the door began to open.

With a burst of speed, she leapt the rest of the way to the kitchen, grabbing the first thing her hands found: the teal mermaid mug that she was going to put her coffee in. She spun around, half-hiding it behind her back, as the front door opened and they stepped inside.

It was an open concept condo; there was a clear line of sight from the entranceway to the kitchen. They were going to spot her anyway so Pre decided to make the first move.

"Oh hex!" she cried out, channeling her panic into feigned surprised incredulity. "Where did you come from? Who are you?"

The tall handsome one turned and saw her. "Preah Devisana? Apologies for the intrusion. My name is Mirome; I'm a representative of Connext. It seems as though there's a problem with your Connext program. We are here to escort you to headquarters so that we can address it."

Their tone was professional, succinct, and gave every impression of an employee being sent on a regular everyday sort of task. But regular everyday employees didn't break into Diamond-owned multi-million dollar condos.

"Headquarters? Why do I need to go there? Can't you fix it here? And how did you get inside anyways? This is my friend's condo and he's gonna flip if you broke his door. He is a Diamond, you know."

"Yes we are aware of your friendship with Xinder Avasila. Don't worry - the door is fine. We apologize again for the abrupt entry but there was no response when we knocked. Please understand that the Connext terms of service allow us to take, shall we say, extreme measures when it comes to malfunctioning chips."

This was new information. Pre frowned. "My chip is malfunctioning? Aren't they supposed to be, like, perfect?"

The chip was what Connext used to measure a person's biometrics. It was almost indiscernible - a tiny bump under the scalp. They installed it when you joined the Connext program. Quick incision, bit of glue - it was a simple operation. Once it was installed, the chip took regular scans of your brain which the Connext algorithm used to make matches and determine connection ratings.

Uncomfortably, Pre realized for the first time that it probably did more than just that. After all, they had found exactly where she was, and knew how close she was to Xinder. If they knew those things, then they probably knew a lot more too.

"Nothing is perfect, Miss Devisana," Mirome said. "As much as Connext strives to provide excellence, even we make mistakes sometimes. But it's not a problem. If you come with us to headquarters, we will have it fixed in no time."

It all sounded so standard, like Mirome was reading from a script. But Mirome wasn't alone. Pre focused on their partner, the one she originally thought of as dainty. Standing in front of them now, Pre realized how wrong that assessment was.

While Mirome was all charm and grace and courtesy, this person exuded an aura of intense hostility. It wasn't because of their facial expression, which they kept relaxed and indifferent. It was the way they held their body, tightly coiled like a viper waiting to strike. Pre could see their taut muscles, the way their fingers curled into loose fists at their side, the slight bend in their legs as if they were going to leap forward at any moment. It was a predatorial stance, ready to attack.

She looked back at Mirome. Clearly Connext wanted her to come along quietly, otherwise Mirome wouldn't bother being so polite. The other one was here as Plan B. Well diplomacy was a game for two, and after thirty first dates, Pre was becoming well-versed in it.

"Of course," she purred. "I'm happy to accompany you and get this taken care of." She flourished the mug that she still held behind her back. "But first, I really do need my coffee. I can't function without it." Before they could respond, she turned her back on them. She slid the mug into the coffee machine and pushed the Pour button. Their eyes burned into her; she could feel their gazes locked onto her every movement. She willed her shoulders to stay down, for her posture to look casual.

"Miss Devisana," Mirome said, a slight edge to their tone now. "I'm afraid that we are on a tight schedule…"

"It'll take less than a minute!" she replied. The coffee burbled steadily into the mug, like sand falling in an hourglass. She forced her eyes away from it, back towards them. Keep them talking. Keep stalling.

"So, Mirome, what pronouns do you use? And you, Mirome's, uh, partner? What's your name? What pronouns do you use?"

Mirome and their partner glanced at each other. It was fast, less than a second, but Pre understood the whole exchange. The smaller one was asking permission for something. Mirome denied it. The small one sighed.

"Axial. They/she." Their voice was surprisingly low for their small stature, an alto instead of the soprano that Pre expected.

"And I go by he/him," Mirome followed.

The stream of coffee slowed to a drip, drip. "Ok! Nice to meet you both." Pre beamed as sweat began to tickle at her armpits. A voice inside her head, maybe Zer0's, was telling her that she must not leave with them. She had to delay that for as long as possible, no matter what. "And, by the way, thanks for coming to escort me to the headquarters. I've never been there before. It must be pretty nice. Do you two work out of there? Seems like you've been working together a long time. Are you, like, chauffeurs or are you tech support or something?"

Her rambling was interrupted by a long beep: the machine telling her that the coffee was done and her time was up. Mirome and Axial didn't say a word, only watched her with intense, unwavering focus. "Oh, finally!" she force-laughed, turning to the fridge to get milk. Normally she took her coffee blacker than night but desperate times called for desperate measures.

She took her time tilting the milk carton, letting it slowly slide into the cup, measuring three spoons of sugar, stirring it all together, talking non-stop about anything and everything she could think of. Axial didn't answer any more questions; Mirome only gave short, curt responses. Pre could tell their patience was wearing thin, but she didn’t know what else to do. Her original instinct had been to fight but something about Axial made her wary of that.

"Are you ready?" Mirome asked redundantly as she held the milked, sugared, completed coffee in her hands.

She gulped. Not yet not yet not yet. "Ah! I'm such a spacecase. I made this in a mug. I can't take this with me! One second - I'm sure there's a thermos around here somewhe-"

She stopped moving, hand still reaching towards the cupboard. Her mind flailed, trying to push her hand forward but it would not move. What is happening to me?

"That's enough," Axial said, their clear, cold voice ringing in Pre's ears like a bell in winter. "No more delays. You're coming with us. Now."