I jolt awake, half expecting to find myself back in some alleyway or walled-in corridor. Instead, I’m lying on a narrow cot in a dim side room, the distant hum of Neo-Tokyo threading its way through a grated vent above me. The pungent tang of ozone and rain seeps in, mingling with the ambient hiss of electronics and flickering neon just outside.

Pressing my palm to my forehead, I will the throbbing ache behind my skull to subside. Though I still feel fragmented from yesterday’s mad rush and revelations, my thoughts have at least coalesced enough to remember who—and where—I am.

“I see you’re finally awake,” Hidari’s voice says quietly in my ear, the AI’s mechanical yet somehow reassuring accent a lifeline I’m becoming dangerously accustomed to.

I blink away the haze, glance down to confirm the faint glow of the Limit Breaker chip in my jacket pocket. Even hidden, it’s like I can feel its pulse thrumming against my leg, an extension of my own heart.

“Yeah,” I reply, my voice tight. “Guess I passed out here after Rose and I parted ways.”

Outside, the city beckons: A swirl of neon signs flickering against the starless sky, reflecting off the endless towers of glass and metal. Streets far below bustle with people, vehicles, and lives that don’t so much as glance upward.

I lift myself off the cot, tug on my jacket, and step out into the corridor. My boots thud against the metal floor as I make my way down a narrow flight of stairs, uncertain of what awaits me at the bottom. My mind is still reeling from the revelations: that I’m somehow bound up in the living legacy of Professor Akira, that my existence might be more engineered than born.

Hidari’s voice crackles again. “We’re 3.4 kilometers from where you last saw Rose. I’ve marked two potential allies within range if you want to gather information: Rose herself, or that informant you visited in the Market of Shadows—Gamakaruu.”

It’s an easy decision. “Rose first,” I say, heading toward the exit. If there’s anyone who’ll help me pick up the pieces, it’s her.

The sky spits rain as I navigate the night-shrouded streets of Neo-Tokyo. I tug up my hood against the drizzle, weaving through throngs of people who never slow down or ask questions. I catch glimpses of tall billboards glowing with headlines about Breaker activity—always sensational, always shrouded in half-truths.

By the time I reach Rose’s workspace, my jacket is slick and dripping. The building itself is fortress-like, just as I remembered: tall, sleek walls made of some dark alloy, fronted by a minimalist facade where barely a pinprick of light leaks out. I push open the heavy doors, stepping into a pool of sterile white lighting.

Instantly, holographic screens and digital interfaces flare to life on every wall. Buzzing runes, data streams, and half-coded language twirl in the air like tiny, luminescent dancers. The subtle hum of power courses through the room, sending a static tingle through my arms.

I find Rose perched at a wide console, her pink hair bright against the monochrome swirl of screens. She spares me a glance. Tension lines her face, but her gaze warms when she sees me.

“You look like you’ve gone three rounds with a drone and lost,” she says, voice soft but teasing as she eyes my soaked jacket.

I shrug off a bit of water. “I’ve had more pleasant journeys.” Without waiting for an invitation, I cross the space to stand beside her. I catch a reflection of myself in one of the dormant screens—slightly hollow-eyed, hair straggling in wet spikes. Definitely not at my best.

She half-turns, tapping a couple of glowing keys. “I was just collating intel on suspicious Breaker movements in the city. Some of them might link back to Factor Zero or… Professor Akira.” The name lingers in the air, every syllable seemingly weighed by her own unresolved history.

“Anything new that points to him?” I ask, pulse kicking up. Even though the idea of confronting my own ties to Akira scares me, not knowing is worse.

“Just rumors,” she says, brows furrowing. “Ghost sightings, sealed labs. No clear leads yet. But I do know this: certain factions have flagged you and your chip as a high-value target.”

A bitter laugh slips out. “Great, that’s all I need—every unscrupulous Breaker and corporate goon in Neo-Tokyo chasing me.”

Rose’s expression softens. “We’ll handle it. But we need more allies if we’re going to wade deeper into these waters. I have a few contacts who might help: Jamal, Haruto, Mia. People I trust.”

She hits a button, and three profiles flash into view—a scowling man with an augmented arm, a robed figure whose eyes are hidden by tinted glasses, and a serious-faced woman holding a strange device. My gut twinges. Allies or not, the more people involved, the higher the risk.

She must read the hesitation in my eyes. “It’s your call, Tatsuya. But if we’re going to fight unknown powers, we’ll need a web of reliable connections. Akira’s disappearance, Factor Zero’s ambitions, your…unique existence—these things are too big for us to tackle alone.”

I exhale, steeling my resolve. “Alright. Let’s set it up. But there’s something I need to do first.”

Rose lifts an eyebrow. “Gamakaruu?”

“Yeah,” I confirm. “He always speaks in riddles, but maybe this time he’ll have something concrete on Akira. Or me.”

A flash of concern crosses her face, but she doesn’t argue. Instead, she slides a chipped data tablet onto the console’s surface. “Take it. Run anything he gives you through Hidari’s firewall before you plug it into your chip, though. Gamakaruu loves secrets…but not all secrets are safe.”

She stands, pressing a key that makes the screens fade into monochrome shadow. “Try not to fall off the grid while you’re at it.”

Despite the tension, a faint smile tugs at my lips. “I’ll do my best.”

I leave Rose’s fortress behind, drifting once more into the city’s swirling neon arteries. The trek toward Gamakaruu’s haunt leads me through twisting corridors of rusted metal and blinking LED signs. It’s quieter here, more sinister. Shadows seem to move of their own accord, drawn by the hush of transactions that prefer privacy.

When I finally pass through a narrow archway, I find Gamakaruu’s stall in a half-lit alcove. Crimson lanterns dangle overhead, casting macabre patterns on the floor. And there he is—masked in the guise of a large frog, bulging orange eyes reflecting the dance of flickering lights.

He welcomes me with a low, rasping chuckle. “Straying once more into the coils of the unknown, Tatsuya?”

“Seems to be my specialty,” I remark, scanning the scattered trinkets and scraps of data-chips strewn around him. “I’m looking for answers. About Professor Akira.”

His masked head tilts. “Answers. A concept steeped in illusions. Are you certain you want to unravel illusions that sustain you?”

My chest tightens. The question stings because I’m far from sure. Still, the memory of that throbbing chip in my pocket and the blank spaces in my own past steels my resolve. “I am.”

Gamakaruu lifts a gloved hand, producing a slender data drive from within the folds of his robe. “Threads of knowledge about Akira’s movements—some are half-truths, some might be invaluable. But knowledge is a stepping stone, not the destination.”

His words bristle with cryptic meaning. I grit my teeth, frustration building. “You ever just give a straight answer?”

“Straight lines are illusions in a universe of curvature.” He chuckles quietly, sliding the data drive across the weathered tabletop. “Tread carefully, young seeker, for every step into truth might lead to a new labyrinth.”

I take the drive, swallowing a sigh. “Thanks, Gamakaruu.”

He inclines his head. “If you crave more than riddles, question why your creator vanished in the first place.” Before I can press him, he steps back into the patchwork darkness of his stall, disappearing as if he was never there.

I stand motionless for a heartbeat, the drive cold in my palm. My mind churns with possible answers, each leading to more puzzles.

Hidari’s voice flares in my earpiece. “We should analyze that data, but let’s be careful. Gamakaruu is…well, Gamakaruu.”

I can’t help the quiet laugh that slips out. “Yeah, I know.”

With that, I turn away, stepping back into the neon-stained walkways of Neo-Tokyo. The hum of overhead signs and the quiet scuffle of unseen footsteps fill my ears as I slip the data drive into a secure pouch.

A swirl of conflicting thoughts tangles in my head: Rose’s offered alliance, Gamakaruu’s cryptic generosity, and above all, the looming specter of Professor Akira—the man who might hold the key to my past, and maybe my future.

As I follow a winding alley, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a pane of glass. My silver hair, the slight crease of worry on my brow. One question seems to simmer more than the rest:

Am I ready to confront the truth of my origins, no matter how it might redefine me?

Glancing up, I take in the endless skyline once more. The city throbs with light and possibility, a labyrinth of paths all waiting for me to choose. My fists clench as I picture the next step—a step beyond illusions, into destiny.

No matter what lurks at the end of this path, I won’t turn back. Not now. Not ever.

I keep moving.