I paused in the heart of Neo-Tokyo’s marketplace, letting the swirl of color and neon wash over me. Night here isn’t just darkness; it’s an endless festival of light, thrumming with a pulse that sometimes feels more alive than I am. The city’s glow has a way of making you feel both significant and infinitesimal all at once—like you might uncover the universe’s secrets if you only knew where to look.

Leila Grisha—tattoos gleaming under the kaleidoscope of shifting billboards—drifted to my side. Her ornate blade hung at her waist, reflecting shards of neon that seemed to dance across her face.

“You sure you want to go in there, kid?” she asked, voice carrying over the jarring soundtrack of vendors, techs, and street performers. A swirl of incense from a nearby kiosk mingled with the tang of engine grease and ozone in the air.

I closed my hand around the Limit Breaker chip in my pocket, taking in a steady breath. “I don’t have much choice,” I muttered. “He might have answers.”

Leila’s lips curved, a knowing grin that made me think she’d seen more corners of this city than I ever would. “So you’re looking for Gamakaruu. Just be warned, that frog in a robe deals in secrets. He won’t part with them for free.”

At that, my grip on the chip tightened. This tiny piece of high-tech metal was both my anchor and my biggest question mark—my only lead on the identity I lost, and possibly the reason for it. “I’ll figure something out. I need to know about Breaker activity, and Gamakaruu’s got his ear to every rumor swirling in these back alleys.”

Leila gave me a soft chuckle that didn’t quite hide her concern. “Just don’t let him pull you in over your head, Tatsuya.”

With that, she turned away, and I pressed on through the shifting tides of humanity. Neon signs overhead promised everything from next-gen augmentations to questionable fortune-tellers. Within that chaos, I picked my path carefully, trusting my gut—and the faint guidance of Hidari in my earpiece.

“You’re wasting valuable moments,” Hidari chimed in. “My data suggests a 73% likelihood Gamakaruu is in the eastern quadrant of the Black Market, sector four.”

I raised my eyebrows, sidestepping a stall hawking luminescent knives. “Only 73%, Hidari? Slipping a bit, aren’t you?”

The AI let out a soft beep that might have been a laugh. “Margin of error. You know how it is.”

I forced a small grin at the subtle humor. Despite the madness swirling around me, Hidari’s presence was a tether, a reminder I didn’t have to do this alone.

Rose had pointed me here in the first place, giving me half a dozen cryptic hints. She’s good at that—dropping me right where I need to be without always explaining why. I guess I trust her enough not to question it too much.

High Above the City…

I’d only caught fragments of what was happening with the Investigators—some remote chatter, bits of rumor. But if what Rose told me was true, they were in deep. Professor Akira’s research had apparently set them spinning. In labs rumored to be pristine enough to make the stiffest Guardian blush, they were dissecting every scrap they could find.

I pictured Mizuki, wearing that calculating stare I’d seen only once or twice at a distance. She had a relentless mind, every footstep measured, every question calculated. The older Investigator, Isaac, was said to be a legend in his own right—someone who took up Akira’s work where the professor left off, though I had no clue how close he was to any real breakthrough.

Some even mentioned the Guardian named Hikaru, whose harnessed wings let him traverse the city with an almost mythical grace. I tried imagining that—someone bridging the gap between man and machine so seamlessly that it looked like art.

Not for the first time, I felt a pang of envy or maybe longing. At least they know who they are.

Back in the Market…

A rickety flight of metal stairs led me deeper under the neon façade, into a hidden warren that thrived beneath the city’s bright surface. The door was a barely marked entrance behind a tangle of wires, something easy to miss unless you already knew it was there. A curtain of plastic beads rustled as I slipped inside.

The hum of electronics gave way to a hush, broken only by the soft glow of flickering bulbs. Here, the usual neon haze dimmed into an amber gloom. My heart thumped, half in excitement and half in apprehension. This is it, I thought.

Behind a battered countertop strewn with bizarre trinkets—broken chips, half-dismantled drones, ancient scrolls—stood a tall figure swathed in a flowing cloak. His frog mask perched atop his head, making his orange eyes all the more striking.

Gamakaruu.

He looked up and let out a low chuckle that echoed across the cramped space. “The amnesiac returns,” he said softly, voice thick with amusement and something else I couldn’t place—an undercurrent of pity, maybe. “I wondered how long before your quest for answers brought you back to me.”

I stepped forward, taking in the surreal mishmash of curiosities around him. “I’m told you know more than anyone about Breaker activity. And about…Akira.”

His mask shifted in a slight bow. “I know many things. But knowledge has a price. Do you have anything to offer?”

My breath caught—this was the part I’d been dreading. “Not sure yet. But I’m willing to trade, if you have something that’ll help me figure out who I was. What this chip is…why I’m tied up in all of it.”

Gamakaruu tilted his head, and for a moment, his gaze flicked to the pocket where I kept the chip. “Curiosity,” he murmured, “is the currency of the Lost. Very well.” He pulled out a small satchel, the material whispery and black, as if woven from secrets. A hush fell, thick with portent, as he extended it across the counter.

I took it gingerly. It felt strangely warm, pulsing like a living thing. “What…what is this?”

“Fragments,” he replied, eyes crinkling with sly amusement, “clues that might lead you further along your path. Or might devour you if you’re not prepared.”

I swallowed, mind reeling. This was the moment I’d come for—some sliver of truth about Akira’s research, about how the Limit Breakers linked to me. “Why give it to me now?”

His laughter came soft and deep. “Because sometimes destiny needs a push. And the city’s on a tipping point.” He straightened, the frog mask’s silhouette looming. “Ask yourself if you’re ready to learn the real cost of Akira’s dream.”

I stood there, turning the bag over in my hands. Part of me wanted to tear it open immediately, devour whatever knowledge was hidden inside. Another part felt too terrified to see the shape of what I might find.

So I did the only thing that felt right—I nodded. “I’ll take the chance.”

Gamakaruu’s eyes seemed to glow with satisfaction. “Good luck, Tatsuya. Our roles in this grand design are only just beginning.”

Walking back into the main corridor, I clutched that satchel tightly, every step echoing with new possibilities. My mind thrummed with a swirl of hope and dread. At least now I had something tangible to chase.

A faint beep drew my attention. Hidari’s voice lit up my earpiece. “So, Tatsuya, how many ways can this go wrong?”

I couldn’t help but smile wryly at the honesty in that question. “At least a few hundred,” I murmured. “But maybe one of them leads to the truth.”

A wave of neon light washed over me as I emerged back into the open market. Every stall, every sign, and every flashing color felt more alive than ever—like each was shouting for me to see, to notice, to piece it all together. My heart hammered a beat of reckless determination.

I will find out why I lost my memories, who Akira truly was, and what role the Limit Breaker chip is meant to play.

Yes, I was an amnesiac adrift in Neo-Tokyo’s swirling mosaic, but for the first time in a long while, I felt the faintest spark of control.

I looked at the satchel again. This was my next step, my new lead. And I wouldn’t let fear hold me back. Because if the city was about to tear itself apart over what Akira left behind, maybe I could be the difference between it burning and it being reborn.

Either way, I’d face the truth soon enough. And that, for now, was enough to keep me moving forward.