Sehra eyed me with mild curiosity, orange irises flicking across my unimpressive frame. The scar that bisected her face—a jagged line running from her right temple to her left jaw—pulled slightly as she frowned.

  "No, you don't," she said finally. "Know me, I mean."

  I allowed myself a small smile. "We've crossed paths. You might not remember."

  That was true enough. The quantum mechanism that preserved my existence ensured she wouldn't recall our previous encounter, but the anger I felt remained very real.

  "I doubt that," she replied, turning her attention back to the dimensional stabilizer display. "I'd remember an F-tier."

  The dismissal stung, but I pressed on. "Your eyes are quite remarkable. That shade of orange—reminiscent of a dimensional rift at sunrise."

  The line was deliberately hollow, a transparent attempt at connection that even I found cringe-worthy. But I needed to establish some rapport, get her talking. Understanding who she was now would help me deal with what she'd done before.

  Sehra's expression didn't change as she set down the stabilizer she'd been examining. "Look, I don't know what you want, but I'm not interested. Whatever sales pitch or recruitment drive you're running, save it for someone else."

  "Not selling anything," I said, positioning myself to block her easy exit. "Just appreciating quality when I see it. E-19 is impressive. Especially for someone so young."

  She gave me a flat look, clearly unimpressed by my attempt at flattery. The public registry badge hovering above her wrist displayed all the information I needed: SEHRA, E-19, SIEGE PLATFORM (CURSED). Nothing unusual about me knowing this - it was available to anyone within visual range.

  "Right," she replied, unconvinced. "Excuse me." She moved to step around me.

  "That's quite a scar," I said, my eyes deliberately tracing the jagged line across her face. "Must have a fascinating story behind it. Something to match your reputation?"

  She froze mid-step. "What did you say?"

  "Your reputation. A friend of mine entered a rift months ago—bought nine passes when the Network glitched. Someone else bought the tenth. This someone went invisible the entire time, let my friend clear everything solo, and only showed up at the end to take down the boss right in front of him. Stole sixty percent of the contribution value." I leaned closer. "Sound familiar? He described someone with your exact... features."

  Her orange eyes flashed dangerously. "You don't know what you're talking about."

  "Don't I? It's quite a reputation you've built. That scar—I bet it's not the only mark you've collected from people who don't appreciate parasites." I pressed. "How many solo raiders have you leeched off? Ten? Twenty? Just lurking invisible and letting them do all the work before swooping in at the end?"

  I knew I was provoking her deliberately, but I wanted to see her reaction. Wanted to understand if she took pride in what she'd done or if there was some justification beyond opportunistic greed.

  Sehra's expression darkened, her scar a livid line against suddenly pale skin. "You need to walk away. Now."

  "I'm just asking a simple question. How do you—"

  I never finished the sentence. Her fist connected with my jaw so quickly I didn't even register the movement. One moment she was standing in front of me, the next I was sprawled across a display table of modified shield generators, my vision swimming and a coppery taste flooding my mouth.

  HP: 100 → 85

  "Don't you ever," she hissed, stalking toward me as I tried to regain my bearings, "presume to know a damn thing about me or what I do."

  Anger surged through me, hot and immediate. The smug satisfaction of knowing I'd struck a nerve was quickly overwhelmed by the humiliation of being so easily dispatched. The difference in our tiers was painfully obvious—my Speed attribute of 3 might as well have been zero compared to her E-tier reflexes.

  My Matrix Vision and Hazard Sense automatically activated, scanning the environment for anything I could use. Twenty meters below us, through the reinforced floor of this underground market, I detected a network of sewage tunnels. More importantly, I sensed a pocket of highly toxic gas that had built up from the interaction of illegal chemical waste and organic matter.

  "Bend," I commanded, relocating the hazard from the sewers directly into our immediate vicinity.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  MANA: 100 → 90

  FRACTURE CHARGES: 0 → 1

  The air between us shimmered as reality distorted, a greenish-yellow cloud materializing in the space around Sehra. The noxious fumes billowed outward, causing nearby raiders to shout in alarm. Someone activated an air purification system, but it wasn't designed to handle a concentrated toxic hazard appearing without warning.

  Sehra's eyes widened in shock, whether from the sudden appearance of the toxic cloud or the realization that an F-tier had just used an ability inside a city which was a big no-no. "What the—"

  "Cloak," she commanded, her form blurring as she attempted to activate what appeared to be an invisibility skill.

  I lunged forward from my prone position, fingers closing around her ankle before she could fully disappear. With a sharp tug, I pulled her off-balance, sending her crashing to the floor beside me.

  "Shape," I called out, transforming the toxic cloud into a concentrated dagger of solidified poison.

  HP: 85 → 75

  FRACTURE CHARGES: 1 → 2

  The hazard responded to my command, particles condensing and restructuring into a glowing green blade that hummed with deadly potential. I pressed it against her throat, crimson veins pulsing beneath my skin as the second Fracture Charge activated.

  "Now," I began, "let's continue our conversation—"

  Her leg connected with my chest before I could finish, sending me flying backward into a display wall. The impact knocked the wind from me, the dagger clattering from my grasp as I struggled to remain conscious.

  HP: 75 → 65

  EXHAUSTION: 0 → 15

  Using the wall for leverage, I pushed off in an acrobatic rebound, snatching the dagger from the floor as I launched myself toward her. With practiced precision, I hurled the blade directly at her center mass.

  Sehra twisted with inhuman grace, the toxic dagger missing her by millimeters. Her movement confirmed what I'd suspected—the attribute difference between us was huge.

  "Emerge," I commanded, targeting the dagger as it embedded itself in a support column behind her.

  HP: 65 → 55

  FRACTURE CHARGES: 2 → 3

  I teleported to the dagger's location, appearing directly behind Sehra with perfect positioning for a strike. My fist connected with her side, charged with the kinetic energy from my teleportation. The blow sent her sailing into a nearby wall with enough force to crack the reinforced concrete.

  Simultaneously, a shock of pain radiated up my arm. I glanced down to see my hand already swelling, knuckles clearly broken against her armor. The E-tier gear had easily withstood an impact that should have incapacitated an unprotected target.

  "Shift," I called out, trying to follow up while she was momentarily stunned.

  MANA: 90 → 80

  FRACTURE CHARGES: 3 → 4

  The combination of Emerge (Movement Impact) followed by Shift triggered the Hazard Escape combination effect. I found myself teleported back to the wall I'd initially been thrown against. This displacement worked in my favor, as Sehra had already recovered and was launching a counterattack at where I would have been.

  My skin developed fracture-like cracks as the fourth charge activated, enhancing my Hazard Sense and Speed temporarily. With this boost, I managed to intercept her as she recovered from her missed strike, my uninjured hand closing around her throat.

  "Don't move," I warned, voice low. "My Matrix Vision can see dimensional weak points in this entire structure. Give me a reason, and I'll collapse this whole place."

  The bluff was outrageous, but the crimson glow emanating from my eyes and the visible fracture patterns across my skin lent it credibility. Sehra went still, her orange eyes locked on mine with a mixture of confusion and dawning comprehension.

  "You're—" she began.

  A wave of force suddenly blasted through the warehouse, sweeping everyone off their feet. Raiders crashed into displays and each other as an invisible pressure pushed outward from the center of the room. Two figures materialized beside us, moving with such speed they appeared to teleport.

  C-tiers. Had to be. Their presence radiated power that made even Sehra's E-tier energy signature seem modest by comparison.

  "Enough!" one of them commanded, a tall woman with silvery implants visible at her temples. "This ends now."

  The second C-tier, a broad-shouldered man with military-grade augmentations, seized me in a grip that rendered me completely immobile. Despite my enhanced Speed from the Fracture Charges, I couldn't so much as twitch against his hold.

  "This isn't over," I told Sehra as the C-tier dragged me toward the exit. Her expression remained unreadable, but I saw something flicker in those orange eyes—recognition, perhaps, though not of me personally. Recognition of what I represented.

  The C-tiers escorted me up the stairs, through the front shop, and unceremoniously deposited me on the street outside.

  "Get lost," the woman said flatly. "And don't come back. Next time, Stability gets involved."

  They returned inside, leaving me sprawled on the pavement with a broken hand and wounded pride. Passersby gave me a wide berth, clearly recognizing the aftermath of being ejected from Cheng's.

  I rose slowly, wincing as I cradled my damaged hand. The pain was significant, but not enough to erase the dark smile that spread across my face as I made my way back toward Lower Residential. During our brief physical contact, I'd managed to extract her contact information directly from her wrist implant—a trick I'd learned during my blank non-raider years dumpster diving for discarded tech.

  "Sehra," I murmured, reviewing the data now stored in my own basic implant. "We'll have that conversation yet."

  I increased my pace, wanting to be well clear of the area before Stability inevitably responded to reports of dimensional abilities being used in an unauthorized zone. My broken hand would need attention, but that was a minor concern compared to the information I'd gained.

  The game had changed. Sehra's reaction had confirmed my suspicions. There was something more to her, something that had made her dangerously defensive when questioned about the Network glitch she used to snipe rift passes.

  And now I had a direct line to her, courtesy of her own implant. The day had proven far more productive than I'd anticipated, even if it hadn't gone according to plan.

  My first true step towards the top might not be through conventional means after all. Sometimes you had to break a few bones—in this case, literally—to forge a new path forward.