En Route to Northrica
When there were just three of us heading to Northrica, it didn't feel like much. But now with four, it's starting to feel a bit crowded. Probably thanks to Frey's nonstop chatter from the passenger seat. It wasn't annoying or grating, though. If anything, it gave the vibe of setting off on a trip somewhere, so I wagged my tail contentedly and gazed out the window. The fading sunset hung to the left, while the skyscrapers' lights and neon signs flickered on one by one to the right. Enoch's beat-up car barreled down the straight road.
How long was the drive again? Even with the direct highway to Northrica, it was supposed to take over 70 hours. A hyper rail or sky shuttle would get us there in no more than four, but since we had no clue what we'd be hauling back, we opted for the car. Angela and Enoch would alternate at the wheel. I tried pitching in that I could drive too, but all three of them politely shot me down. So in the end, I lounged in the back, just taking in Eden's scenery.
"We just opened the office not long ago—is it really okay to head out this far right away?"
"I forwarded all the calls."
Enoch started to nod naturally, but he caught Angela's expression in the rearview mirror and froze. Why the anxiety? I'd forwarded the calls—what was there to worry about?
There was. He couldn't imagine it, but I was surely up to something bizarre.
"...Where'd you forward them?"
"To Grandpa."
"Did you get permission?"
I blinked and tapped my headset.
"Hi, good evening."
"Grandpa, you into power suits?"
"Yeah, we're off to snag one right now."
My shameless lie turned Enoch and Angela's faces sheet-white. Meanwhile, Frey—who had no idea who was on the line—couldn't stop giggling.
"Over in Northrica. If we score it, wanna see?"
"Yeah, I'll grab a souvenir."
I tapped the headset to end the call and grinned. "Got permission."
"You actually got permission? Got nothing to say to that, heh."
"Calling that permission..."
Angela seemed to decide to roll with it now, chuckling along with me. Enoch, though, couldn't muster a smile. He knew exactly what kind of connector Salvador Ortega was. Where there's smoke, there's fire—Salvador's rep wasn't baseless. And yet, with me, he showed a softer side. Not weak, exactly—more like he got a bit rounder around the edges. His gruff speech stayed the same, but there was this odd affection, a warmth underneath. Like a real grandpa talking to his granddaughter.
...Not like I can talk.
Truth was, Enoch was cut from the same cloth. If some girl my age pulled the same stunts, he'd have grabbed her and given her a proper thrashing. Of course, no one could pull off what I did anyway. Nothing in this world acted like me—not even the chrome psychos.
"Who's that anyway? Some connector you know?"
Frey, picking up on the vibe and full of questions, chimed in cautiously amid our trio.
"Seemed super close? Calling him grandpa and all... like a mentor or something?"
"Mentor... He's a benefactor, sure, but mentor? Nah, haven't learned jack from him yet."
Enoch played it off casually. But his shoulders and twitching lips betrayed him—they were bursting with pride, dying to brag.
Frey clocked it and probed deeper. "Not yet means you will someday? Gonna become a connector later?"
"Eh, that's the easiest path, yeah."
"Well, la-di-da."
Frey pouted and jabbed Enoch's side. She hadn't forgotten his old lines.
"When'd you say merc work was a lifetime gig?"
Lifetime (). All through one's life. Or a whole life. Merc work fit the word like a glove. So many died on the job. If you live and die doing it, isn't that your lifetime? In that sense, being a merc is a lifetime career. You retire when you're dead.
Enoch had always clung to that. No reason to switch from a lifetime job.
But now... he was thinking post-retirement.
Frey was thrilled by the change, though a tiny, tiny bit jealous. She wasn't part of what sparked it, probably. Still, she was genuinely glad. Worry and care for Enoch outweighed any jealousy by far. His happiness was hers.
"So? What kinda connector? Famous?"
"You'd know the name."
"How many connectors do I know?"
"This one's impossible to miss."
Enoch teased, lips twitching endlessly. Normally it'd be mildly infuriating, but with his bangs like that, it just pissed her off more. Frey's brow furrowed deep.
"Quit stalling and spill it alrea—"
"Salvador Ortega."
Her furrowed brow shot open.
"—dy...?"
"The connector Soo was just talking to? That's the man himself."
"Wha, whoa..."
Truth be told, Frey knew tons of connectors' names. It was her man's job—her future husband's. Researching it was a wife's duty. That's why she'd dug deep into mercs and connectors. She even knew names too elite to utter casually in Eden. And top of that list? Salvador Ortega.
Yet here he was, called "sir" by Soo—who went full "grandpa"—and they sounded tight.
"Holy shit..."
Frey's mental picture of their newlywed life shattered and reformed. From Southpeak's Picker Town to a decent Westtown apartment. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms—the latter crucial. If she snagged the john first, she'd have to block Enoch out. Throw in a boy and a girl, and they'd need separate rooms. Siblings could share, but boy-girl? Better split 'em early for harmony.
Her fantasies spiraled endlessly from there.
Up front, Enoch kept subtly bragging. Talking to deaf ears, preaching to the choir. Angela and I got it perfectly—how those two, raised like siblings, stayed tight. Just tune each other out, no matter what.
The easy banter flowed on for ages. Then, far ahead, the tollgate to Northrica came into view.
Northrica. Higher than Eden's heart. A city of glass nearest the heavens. Only the chosen breathe here—Eden's richest district. Corp directors, execs, top researchers. Their families' centuries of wealth and data form its bedrock.
No cheap neon or chaotic billboards like other districts. Instead, AI panels that read passersby's moods and tailor ads. Windows are all black light-swallowing glass. Road cars have no wheels—magnetic tracks ensure silent travel.
Spotting locals from visitors? Easy. Anyone dirtying the roads is a guest.
The air carried fragrance. It'd shift tomorrow—Lü Chen's perfume system handled purification.
Skies always blue. Rain fell only where needed, localized to minimize hassle. Fake heavens, artificial weather. No Northrican questioned or rejected it, craving illusion over truth.
They deemed even gods unnecessary. Corps' data and power filled that void—what more?
Underground lurked Arcana, an AI survivor of the Abyss War. No errors tainted Northrica thanks to it.
Beautiful, cold, perfect Northrica. And those very strengths? Its fatal flaws.
— From Miko's Notes —
"—that's what it says."
"Yeah... Miko sure knows her stuff, more than I figured."
"She was Lü Chen's chief researcher."
"Even knowing about Arcana, though? Didn't see that coming."
What the hell were those two yapping about? Enoch and Frey couldn't follow.
Northrica? Just where the rich lived, right? No way it had "flaws." And Arcana? Weren't AIs wiped in the Abyss War? One in Eden's crown jewel? That was urban legend territory—way past it.
Blab that in the city, and ECPD'd drag you off quick. Slacker cops anywhere else, but in Northrica? They hustled hardest.
That's why Enoch had been nagging me nonstop for four hours straight.
"Absolutely do not break anything. If you can touch it, see it, smell it—hands off."
The car right in front of Enoch? Priced like his entire net worth in HODs. Northrica crawled with them. So those towering buildings...?
And that black glass coating the windows? Some rare-ass material you couldn't buy anymore, weird name or whatever.
"Got it."
"Promise."
"Yeah."
Our fingers hooked tight in a pinky swear.
"A man's word is his bond. Got it?"
"Yeah. A man doesn't break his word."
She was a girl, but obsessed with "be a man," "real men," "tough guy" stuff. So yeah, she'd keep it.
Enoch finally relaxed and gripped the wheel. A pricier ride than his whole body had passed—our turn.
This'll go smooth.
Saw it in her eyes. She'd behave this time.
Enoch flashed a faint smile and hit the gas.
About one minute before lightning slammed the tollgate.