Spent the night checking for salvageable components, and some indeed were. In an unimaginable stroke of luck, or perhaps just due to a great design, the hard drive was tucked away in a corner of my electronic warhorse and therefore survived. I’ve lost next to nothing!

I wanted to dash out and celebrate, possibly by passing out, but there was still work to be done. Why would I waste time on slumber when various bloodsuckers were after my jugular?

Plugged in my hard drive to a working computer and began sifting through the various recordings.

The thugs were mulling around for days. It would take far too long to find where this unfolded. Instead, I accessed yesterday’s recordings. If I caught them with a body, this would become the security’s problem.

However, everything relevant was gone.

No sign of them coming, going or murdering. I just had the thugs lugging a bag on distant cameras, but that was hardly undisputable proof. The feed cut out again when the tracksuit squid reached the dorm of my previous identity.

I exhaled, spinning around in a well-oiled swivel chair.

So, they had the exact same idea. These men put the body to rot in my room, hoping the security would go after me with their full capabilities. I’d get my face branded and kicked out into the wilderness, where their patron would pick me up. Terrible place to be meeting anybody.

What to do, what to do? I could hardly remove the damning evidence from my former dwelling, even if those men weren’t watching it on the off-chance I return.  

Rotten business. I had reached the very end of my rope here. Had everything I needed now anyway, so perhaps I should just leave. Tricky that too, because the young Raktkalis won’t let me out through front gate.

I should pack up and find something to eat, then get a quick fifteen minute nap. My mind was too sluggish to come up with anything anymore. Voices outside brought more and more gossip, too.

“Miss Alita showed me. Ask her.”

“You gotto see!”

“Dying to.”

“Everyone in class will be checking it.”

I didn’t even check if this classroom would be used today. Finding someone within a locked workshop with high-value tech would be iffy to explain away, especially with the newspaper-thin credentials like mine. And, frankly, my oratory skills left a lot to be desired.

If the campus security joined the pursuit too, that would make things seriously unmanageable.

Alright, a break.

Jumped back out the window and re-joined the society. For around four minutes. Then, I dove into the basement laundry to pilfer more disguises. I hid my bloated backpack in a ventilation chute and came out a new person.

Sea of people was starting to fill the grounds, so I didn’t fret. In fact, the crowd emboldened me. I could pick up a can or two from a hidden cache, but instead I waltzed into cafeteria to eat something immediately perishable and ultimately decadent. I deserved a treat for living through two restless days of manhunt.

I was also enormously curious about the gossip. Whilst most everything in the echoing great hall merged into an indistinct cacophony, intriguing fragments of conversation still emerged. I simply needed to pay attention to the titillating combination of the excitement and fear.

I’ve been compelled to know the details. Professional curiosity, as well as personal nosiness. Wasn’t healthy, but made the job easier.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Has to be fake.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Grabbing myself a lofty slice of cake and a cup of extra sweet yoghurt, I climbed to the balconies, where the private speech was more distinct.

“It was coercion, no two ways about it.”

“We need to decide.”

Disappointingly, I haven’t learned anything new.

Anyone with two eyes saw the deaths for what they were. Students from the bountiful central lands were outraged, some even tried to agitate their sensible peers into action. As to what that could be, the eager activists didn’t quite know themselves yet. After all, an open defiance would land them outside of the defended citadels – and free to make their own empires and rules.

The hijacked account was attributed to some justice seekers and has gained traction. Unexpected. Normally, just a handful possessed the delicate microchips. However, a solid half of attendees hailed from the upper crust, so all of them saw. They should just embrace it and rename the school as the Academy of Advancement and Wealth.

Thus far, no one has realised they got cause and effect backwards. These people wanted their devious, shadowed champions to be real. Even the seasoned cynics. In fact, they cheered on the most. After all, open contempt was suicidal, and this quiet loathing? Right up their alley.

I wasn’t able to record the traitorous speech of potential insurgents, but took note of some names. I might be in trouble (I usually was anyway), but insights like that were exactly why I came here.

I wasn’t here to rat them out in particular. Enforcing the law was not my job. Not if I wasn’t paid for it. My current standing with powers-that-be made that a somewhat permanent arrangement. However, they weren’t the only ones who wanted to hold a hand on the region’s pulse. I could sell the data on relevant happenings or persons to tradesmen, foreign agents or common crooks. That was far less dangerous and would be more than enough to sustain this meagre existence.

Just as I finished my cake, new wave of whispers rippled through the cafeteria and the flowery yard below.

“Raktkalis”, the collective buzz announced. “Naked.”

Wait, what?

I raised my head and peered over the railing. He was indeed marching down the path in all his pale and completely hairless glory. The prideful warlord only had military issue boots on, straps around his chest to hold two handguns and a belt to house the same dagger that skewered my circuitries.

I have drastically underplayed the physique in the picture. Contrary to expectation, the battle suit concealed his broad shoulders rather than emphasise them. They were a spectacle to behold. The whole specimen was. The corded muscles gave an impression he could leap straight into the upper veranda.

Awful. Now even the most ardent deniers will realise how blatantly fake that image was. Chatter, which was hostile not a minute ago, suddenly turned favourable. Beautiful people were always so easily forgiven. Admired. No matter how monstrous this cretin was, he would always have charisma on his side.

The fucker had everything. Yet took away one thing that kept me afloat. Then just waltzes in here, completely dismissing my miniscule revenge for a fallen comrade whom it will take years to revive.

I squeezed the glass of my unfinished drink – syrupy consistence was a terrible pick to chase down a cake. However, my sleeping brain gave way to impulses and they have found alternative uses for the thick, off-white swig.

I stared long and hard at the marching procession, stealthily flexing muscles so hard my palm bled. Unrolled my turtleneck collar to obscure the changes in my face and launched the yoghurt at the scion’s head.

I missed. By a little bit. He moved away. However, the contents splattered Raktkalis’s abdomen with trails of a slowly descending cream anyway. I dared to snicker to myself. Another well-executed act of antipathy.

The thought tickled an alarm bell. It was perhaps a poor choice of words, but execution has been on my mind lately.

Two guards stood to shield their little lord from the further runny artillery, whilst the other two bolted towards me. They wore heavy armours, but the speed of approach was alarming.