The day, Fii headed to the Vigil to meet up with Virgil. He was already in the basement, bent over a desk, examining some notes and scribbling something down on a piece of paper. A few empty coffee mugs and beer bottles cluttered the tertop nearby. The old radio hummed softly in the background, pying some kind of stati oldies station.

  Fii rapped on the door frame, announg her arrival. "M."

  Virgil turo greet her with a grunt and a curt nod. "Mornin', kid. e on in."

  She ehe room and plopped down on a nearby stool, stretg her legs out in front of her. "So, what'd you find?" she asked eagerly. "Did you figure anything out about that weird drug? Or the guy who OD'd?"

  Virgil sighed heavily, setting his pen aside. "Yes and no. Turns out, the guy you helped st night...he's alive. Edith got him stable, kept him at the ic ht for observation." He scratched his stubble-covered thoughtfully. "Edith found traces of some unknown drug in his system, so she tested the syringe yht back. firmed the substance was the same one he OD'd on. Still waiting for results to identify what exactly we're dealing with here."

  He picked up a nearby cup of coffee and took a long sip. "Was able to track down his identity, though. Name's Joe Morley. Local street punk. Known associate of the Neon Vipers." Virgil shook his head. "Stupid kid."

  "He's part of that gang? Seriously?" Fii narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. "Damn, no wonder. So, did you interrogate him or something? Did he spill any information?" She leaned forward, eager for more details.

  "Didn't have to. Apparently, he woke up briefly while Edith was taking his vitals and started babbling nonsense. Couldn't remember who he was, where he'd been, or how he'd ended up at the ic. Said he felt like he was 'floating on clouds,' so she gave him something to help him sleep." Virgil rubbed the bridge of his nose and groaned. "Kid doesn't remember squat, so there's no point iioning him. But Edith said he's lucky you found him when you did, otherwise he'd probably be worm food by now."

  "Wow, that's pretty crazy. Must've been one hell of a trip." Fii shrugged, but she couldn't deny she felt a twinge of pity for the puy—even if he was a gang member. "Think he'll be okay?" she asked quietly. "I hope he get better."

  Virgil let out another long sigh and shook his head. "Maybe. It depends on what's in his system and whether or not he has any residual effects. Guess we'll hafta wait and see." He csped his hands together and leaned forward, resting his elbows oable. "Anyway, as far as the iigation goes...so far, I'm basically chasing ghosts. I talked to a few informants and did some digging. Nothing substantial yet."

  "So, what do we do now? Where do you pn on goi?"

  "Gonna have to visit the Night Market, see if I get some answers from the vendors. Find out who's selling, who's buying, that sorta thing." Virgil pushed himself away from the desk and stretched, wing as his back popped. "Ugh, getting' too old for this crap."

  That was the cue she was waiting for.

  "Well...I talked to one of my sources st night. Said there's a new drug called Shiver that's starting to circute through the slums. Supposedly, it gives you an amazing high but sends you crashing real hard after. Sometimes, people end up losing their minds and going homicidal before they check out." Fii crossed her arms over her chest and nodded sagely. "Guess that's kinda what happeo that guy. Could be reted. Maybe."

  Virgil's eyebrows shot upwards, his expression turning incredulous. "You have informants? Seriously?"

  Fii waggled her brows, fshing a smug grin. "I'm full of surprises. But yeah, I've got people I talk to. Some of 'em be a bit weird, but I trust 'em. Mostly."

  Virgil let out a tired chuckle. "Huh...who knew, huh?" He stroked his , his gaze growing distant as he seemed to fall into deep ption. "What else did they tell you?"

  "Apparently, there aren't that many dealers arou, but people are going crazy over it. That's about it, really. They only caught wind of the stuff retly."

  "Who's your tact?"

  "Nuh-uh, sorry. Not falling for that, old man. You do your own snooping around, thanks." She stuck her to pyfully before hopping off the stool. "Anyway, I gotta go. Pces to be, people to see, et cetera, et cetera." With a wave and a smile, she bounced out the door and into the afternoon sun.

  She headed back to the ic, suited up, and donned her helmet befoing out to patrol the streets.

  The weather was oday, sunny with clear skies. It felt good to move around. Although her bodysuit hid most of her skin, she still felt naked without clothes. It was a strange sensation.

  The slums' residents had bee aced to seeing her on patrols, so nobody batted an eye when she passed by. They all simply went about their lives, not b to pay her any mind. Some even gave her friendly greetings as they went about their business. The whole experieill felt surreal.

  No rooftop acrobatics today. Instead, she opted to walk through the slums on the ground. She tried to appear casual, ambling slowly along, casually greeting those who greeted her, keeping a for anything out of the ordinary.

  Her route eventually took her through a narrow alleyway.

  As she traversed the alley, her footsteps echoed loudly as they struck the pavement. The sounds of distant chatter and ughter drifted on the breeze. A few pigeons perched on the rusted fire escape above. Sunlight filtered through the cracks and crevices of the surrounding buildings, casting shadows across the dirty, litter-strewn crete floor.

  When she reached the far end of the alley, a familiar face came into view. It was Quinn, the guy she met atop the water tower a little while ago. He was wearing a faded jumpsuit and wielding a toolbox as he worked on some rusty pipes that lihe wall.

  She stopped iracks, debating whether to approach or not. Eventually, curiosity won out, and she broke into a brisk walk. "Hey."

  Quinn paused and gnced over his shoulder at her. His one good eye widened in reition, aood up straight, putting away his tools. "Oh, wow...Axion. Didn't expect to see you in these parts. Need something?" He wiped his hands on his pant leg, removing some grease stains.

  Axion shook her head. "Just passing through. Hey, are you the maintenance guy around here?" she asked. She examihe rusty pipelines, noting their deteriorated dition. "Seems like you have a lot to deal with."

  Quinn chuckled dryly. "More or less. I'm a handyman. Fix anything, anywhere. I get paid in food and water, usually, and sometimes Tinks or ChitCreds. No pints, though; I prefer it that way. I like to keep busy, and being the neighborhood fix-it guy lets me do that while still making ends meet. It's a living."

  Axion's helmet shifted to study the surrounding area. "And they leave you alone? No trouble?"

  "Not usually. People usually know better than to mess with me. Sometimes, gang members or thugs show up and harass me for cash oods, but it doesn't happen often. Not a lot of people know how to fix things around here so they rely on me." He shrugged. "Also helps I take care of myself if I o." He brandished his toolbox, holding it like a shield. "This right here, plus a wrench to the face, is very persuasive. Not t."

  Axion stifled a ugh. "Ha, yeah. Well, at least you're doing all right."

  "Speaking of which...why are you patrolling here, anyway? Something up?" Quinn quirked a brow. "Looking for something, or someone?"

  She shook her head. "Not really, no. I'm just..." She paused, sidering her response carefully. "...keeping a."

  "For...?" Quinn probed, intrigued. "Are the gangs doing anything shady around this neighborhood? Cause I heard about some new drug cirg through the slums. Got a buddy who mentio to me."

  "I heard about that, too," Axion replied quietly. "Still looking into it. Haven't firmed anythi. But yeah, I'm keeping a lookout for anything suspicious."

  "The Neon Vipers run this area, right?" Quinn frowned, folding his arms over his chest. "They're a bunch of bastards, and I wouldn't put it past them to be pushing this stuff. Kasumi's a snake, and Viper Vaughn ain't much better. Watch out for him—the dude's a real creep."

  Axion tilted her helmeted head inquisitively. "Kasumi? Who's that?"

  "Oh, you must've not heard of her. She's the leader of the Neon Vipers. Calls herself 'Cobra' Kasumi. I've seen her around, but I try to steer clear. She's a real piece of work. Always wearing that stupid mask, ag all mysterious. Thinks she's some sort of 'queenpin' or something." Quinn snorted in disdain, rolling his eye. "Uppity bitch."

  The term "Queenpin" tickled at the back of Axion's brain, but she couldn't pce where she'd heard it before. "Huh, okay. Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." She adjusted her stance, shifting her weight onto her left foot. "What about you? You a part of any gang?" she asked, trying not to sound accusatory.

  Quinn visibly recoiled, aghast at the question. "Wha—no! Hell no!" He shook his head firmly, frowning. "I'm not a part of any gangs. I stay out of their way and they stay out of mioo messy." He chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "I'm just a simple meic, cooking with spare parts and earning my keep. I keep to myself, mostly. Plus, I don't like getting involved with gang politid all that crap. Too plicated."

  Axion smiled faintly beh her helmet, impressed by his hoy. "Good to hear. Well, good luck with the repairs, Mr. Handyman. And thanks for the heads-up about the Neon Vipers." She turo leave, waving goodbye as she headed out of the alleyway. "Anyways, see you around."

  "Wait, before you go—," he called out, jogging towards her. "I've got a favor to ask. Think you spare a minute?" He eyed her curiously. "Won't take long, promise."

  He wore a hopeful expression, and he seemed sincere, so she saw no reason to refuse. "Sure, why not? What's up?"

  He gestured behind him. "There's a ste unit at the other end of the block. A bunch of supplies and materials are stored inside. o haul them back here. There's only so much I carry with this toolbox, and well..." He rubbed his left arm nervously. "It's nothing too heavy, but I could use a hand moving stuff around."

  Axion pted for a moment. He wasn't asking for much, and it wasn't like she was busy. Plus, she had to admit she was somewhat curious about the tents of the ste unit. "I'm game. Lead the way."

  Quinn grinned gratefully and led Axion to a nondescript warehouse. Its cated metal walls were rusted and covered in graffiti. The faded letters across the facade read, "A.S. Ste, Est. 2140." There was aronic keypad mounted oerior, but Quinn ig, instead reag for the padlock seg the double doors. He unlocked the and slid the door open with ease, allowing her entrance.

  She followed him iepping past the threshold and into the darkness beyond. Ohey were both safely inside, Quinn pulled a string hanging from the ceiling, activating the fluorest light. The room filled with a yellow glow, illuminating its tents.

  Rows upon rows of crates, barrels, and boxes lihe interior, stacked ly i orderly stacks. Along the walls were various tools, appliances, and miseous equipment. A worn-out couch sat in the far er, draped with bs and pillows. It appeared to serve as a makeshift bed, judging from the rumpled sheets and discarded clothes strewn about the floor. There was also a small gas stove, a small portable fridge, a couple of chairs, and a coffee table.

  The room smelled musty and damp, with faint hints of gasoline, oil, and bural. Everything was covered in yers of dust and cobwebs. In the ter of the room y an old oil barrel filled with sand and a few crumpled cigarette butts. The embers flickered in the dim lighting, glowing e against the charcoal surface.

  "It's not much, but it gets the job done," Quinn remarked, looking around with a hint of pride in his voice. "Here, e closer." He beed Axioo one of the crates in the back.

  Axion plied, joining him as he k and opehe crate. Inside were various meical pos and parts, including circuit boards, cables, batteries, wiring, gears, bolts, screws, nuts, and other bits of junk.

  She whistled softly. "Lots of stuff around here."

  "All this is spare parts. Old equipment and stuff I sged. Some of it is useful, but there's plenty of garbage mixed in. Still...junk's gold if you see it right. I sort through it ter and pull the good pieces out. But for now, I need your help." He stood up and motiooward a rge tarp-covered objeear the rear entrance. "It's uhis sheet. Mind giving me a hand?"

  "No problem." Axion strode over to the tarp and tugged it free, revealing a pile of scrap underh. "This it?"

  Quinn nodded, bending over and pig up a wrench from a nearby shelf. "Yep. Gonna need some of these to rework some parts." He rummaged through the assortment of odds and ends, pulling a few things out. "Ah, here we go. If you don't mind carrying that armful over there, I'll take this box. Should be enough for now. Then I get to work."

  "Uh, sure." Axion picked up the load, bang them against her torso. It wasn't the heaviest thing she'd ever carried, but it wasly light, either. She didn't o use her gravikinesis to ease the burden.

  Quinn scooped up the cardboard box and followed her outside, closing the door securely behind them. They made their way back to the alley and dropped off their cargo he maintenance worksite. "Thanks. Appreciate the help, seriously," he said with a grateful smile. "Have somewhere to be?"

  Axion shrugged indifferently. "Not particurly. Just walking around, keeping watch." She noticed a small group of locals staring at them from across the street and subtly gestured at them. "Although, it looks like we've got some spectators."

  Quinn chuckled, gng at the crowd nontly. "Yeah, well, I'm used to being watched. Not sure how you hahe attention, though."

  "Eh, I got used to it. Took some time, but it is what it is. 't help but stand out when I'm running around in a bodysuit a, I?" She crossed her arms over her chest, taking a casual pose.

  Quinn's good eye trailed over Axion's bodysuit- appreciatively before he quickly averted his gaze. His cheeks flushed slightly, and he coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, right, well...anyway, thanks again for helpi. Really appreciate it." He extended his hand in , smiling bashfully.

  Axion accepted his handshake and gave him a firm, friendly squeeze. "Happy to lend a hand, Mr. Handyman."

  "Quinn," he corrected her, releasing her grip. "Name's Quinn. o meet you, Axion. Take care." He waved goodbye and resumed w on the broken pipe.

  Well, that was a tle interlude. Best not to linger. Back to work.

  Axion tipped her head in farewell auro her patrol.

  AnnouLocal Sng:

  Cooking with spare parts: Making do with what you have.

  Junk's gold if you see it right: One man's trash is another man's treasure.