The next forty-eight hours passed in a blur of preparation and research. Mia transformed Mira's small apartment into an operation center, holographic dispys showing multiple angles of the Helios-7 facility, security protocols mapped in glowing wireframe models, and potential extraction routes highlighted in pulsing red.

  "Daedalus Corporation has seventeen yers of security," Turing expined, the robo-cat perched on the edge of the desk as its AI processed the data from Prometheus's files. "Physical, digital, and neural. The outer fourteen are standard corporate protection. The inner three..." The feline's eyes shifted from amber to concerned red. "The inner three are military-grade or better."

  Mia nodded, unsurprised. An artificial intelligence developing beyond its programming would be considered both a priceless asset and a potential threat—something to be controlled and studied rather than engaged as a conscious entity.

  "Focus on the vulnerability Prometheus identified," she instructed. "The security upgrade creating a ninety-second window."

  Turing's optical sensors flickered as it processed the relevant data. "Confirmed. During the transition from existing security protocols to the upgraded system, a brief desynchronization will occur in the quantum authentication matrix. This creates a potential entry point through the tertiary backup server." The robo-cat's head tilted in what Mira recognized as its equivalent of a frown. "However, this will only grant access to the outermost security yer. Reaching the core systems where Azure is housed would require bypassing the remaining sixteen yers within that ninety-second window."

  "Impossible by standard methods," Mia agreed, studying the schematics. She had navigated complex systems before—both as Mira Chen and in her previous identities—but nothing approaching this level of security.

  "There is a potential alternative approach," Turing suggested after a moment's calcution. "Rather than attempting to penetrate all seventeen yers, you could focus on establishing a direct neural connection to Azure itself. If the AI is truly as advanced as Prometheus cims, it might be able to assist in its own extraction once contact is established."

  The suggestion aligned with Prometheus's cryptic parting advice: Connect directly. AI like Azure can sense emotional states through neural interfaces better than most humans can through face-to-face interaction. It will know if you're being truthful.

  "That would require getting physically closer to the facility," Mia mused. "The standard neural interface range is limited to about half a kilometer, even with enhancement."

  "The maintenance scheduling indicates a supply delivery to the Helios-7 cafeteria tomorrow at 14:30. Security will be temporarily adjusted to accommodate external vendors."

  Mira's memories provided the context Mia needed—corporate facilities like Helios-7 operated on strictly controlled access, but necessities like food deliveries created regur disruptions in their security patterns. Not enough to allow unauthorized entry, but potentially enough to get within neural interface range.

  "Perfect," she decided. "We'll position near the delivery entrance. If I can establish contact with Azure, even briefly, we might be able to coordinate a more effective approach for the full extraction during the security upgrade."

  The rest of the day was spent preparing specialized equipment for the operation. Mia modified Mira's neural interface, expanding its range and sensitivity while adding additional encryption to prevent detection. Turing assisted, its mechanical paws surprisingly dexterous as they maniputed delicate components.

  "This exceeds standard specifications by 43%," the robo-cat observed as they completed the modifications. "Potential neural feedback could cause damage to your organic systems."

  "Calcuted risk," Mia replied, testing the connection. The enhanced interface hummed with potential, its capacity now pushing the boundaries of what civilian technology could achieve. "If Azure is as advanced as Prometheus believes, standard equipment wouldn't be sufficient to establish meaningful contact."

  By evening, the physical preparations were complete. Mia found herself facing an unexpected quiet period—six hours before they needed to move into position near Helios-7, with nothing more to be done until then.

  In previous operations, Mira would have used such time for either sleep or recreational neural immersion. But Mia, still adjusting to the transition between worlds, found herself restless. The cramped apartment felt oppressive after a lifetime spent in open spaces, first aboard the Siren's Kiss and ter in the hillside home overlooking Port Zephyr.

  "I'm going for a walk," she told Turing. "Maintain monitoring protocols."

  "Weather conditions are suboptimal," the robo-cat observed. "Current precipitation 78% above average with elevated toxicity levels."

  Mia smiled slightly. "I've sailed through worse storms than a little acid rain."

  The comment would have seemed nonsensical to Mira Chen, but Turing merely adjusted its head in acknowledgment, its AI flexible enough to accommodate such anomalies without fgging them for concern.

  Outside, Neo Cascade's perpetual night embraced her. Unlike natural darkness, this was a night constructed of shadow and artificial light—neon advertisements reflecting off low-hanging clouds, holographic dispys painting buildings in constantly shifting colors, the occasional spotlight from corporate security drones sweeping across huddled figures.

  Mia walked without specific destination, allowing Mira's muscle memory and instincts to guide her while her thoughts ranged across worlds and lifetimes. The jarring contrast between her previous life and this cyberpunk reality had begun to soften slightly, her mind finding points of comparison rather than only contradiction.

  The corporate structures of Neo Cascade were not entirely unlike the imperial politics of Jin-Wei's world, though manifested through economic rather than hereditary power. The underground networks and information brokers resembled the spy networks Darkwater had utilized, adapted for a digital age. Even the constant vigince required to navigate this urban byrinth called to mind the awareness needed to survive at sea during storm seasons.

  Different worlds, different manifestations, but underlying patterns that remained consistent across realities.

  As she walked, Mia found herself near one of the Mid Zone's small public gardens—artificial constructs where genetically modified pnts grew under carefully controlled conditions, providing the illusion of nature within the urban sprawl. She entered, drawn to the promise of even manufactured greenery after days surrounded by technology and concrete.

  The garden was empty at this hour, the rain having driven most residents to indoor activities. Mia sat on a bench beneath a transparent overhang that offered protection from the toxic precipitation, watching water droplets gather on the leaves of pnts engineered to survive Neo Cascade's harsh atmosphere.

  "You seem out of pce," a voice observed from nearby.

  Mia turned sharply, Mira's combat reflexes automatically assessing the potential threat. A maintenance worker stood a few meters away, an older man with the weathered face of someone who had spent decades in the Mid Zone. His uniform bore the logo of the Public Spaces Division, and the tools at his belt appeared to be standard gardening implements rather than weapons.

  "Just getting some air," Mia replied, rexing slightly but maintaining awareness of her surroundings. In Neo Cascade, even seemingly innocent encounters could mask corporate or criminal surveilnce.

  "Most don't seek air in a toxic downpour," the man noted with dry humor. He gestured to the garden's central feature—a small pond where engineered lilies floated on the surface. "The filtration system makes this spot 30% cleaner than anywhere else in the sector. Worth maintaining, wouldn't you say?"

  Something about his manner—the calm assessment, the attention to detail—reminded Mia fleetingly of Master Yun from the cultivation world. A different context entirely, yet that same sense of someone who observed more than they immediately revealed.

  "Worth maintaining," she agreed. "Though I imagine Cascade Corporate would repce it with revenue-generating space if given the opportunity."

  The man nodded, beginning to tend to the pnts nearest her bench. "They've tried three times in the past decade. Each time, the local community has resisted—one of the few successful examples of corporate pns being thwarted by public opposition." His weathered hands moved with practiced efficiency, removing dead leaves and checking soil moisture levels. "People need something beyond concrete and code, even if they don't always recognize it consciously."

  Mia watched him work, finding unexpected calm in the familiar rhythm of someone caring for growing things. "How long have you maintained this garden?"

  "Twenty-seven years," he replied without looking up. "I was here when they first installed it—a corporate goodwill gesture during the Water Riots. Most of my colleagues moved on to better-paying positions within a year. I stayed."

  "Why?"

  He straightened, considering the question with genuine thought rather than providing a reflexive answer. "Because what we nurture shapes what we become. This small patch of engineered nature won't save Neo Cascade from corporate control or environmental colpse. But it reminds people that alternatives exist, that something besides profit and survival might guide our choices."

  The sentiment resonated unexpectedly with Mia, echoing across her experiences in multiple worlds. What we nurture shapes what we become. Wasn't that the essence of her journey with the fragments? Each incarnation of Noir's soul had been shaped by the world it inhabited, the connections it formed, the choices it made within the constraints of its existence.

  "Thank you," she said simply. "For maintaining this pce."

  The gardener nodded, seeming to understand she meant more than the polite surface of the words. "Good luck tomorrow," he said as he moved away toward the far side of the garden. "With your extraction."

  Mia tensed, hand moving instinctively toward the concealed weapon in her jacket. "What do you know about that?"

  But the man had already disappeared among the carefully arranged foliage, leaving no evidence of his presence beyond recently tended pnts. Mia rose quickly, scanning the garden with both natural and augmented vision. Nothing registered beyond the expected—no surveilnce devices, no lurking figures, no signs of corporate security.

  Had she imagined the final comment? Or was the gardener something more than he appeared—perhaps one of Prometheus's agents ensuring she remained committed to the extraction?

  After a thorough check revealed no immediate threats, Mia decided to return to the apartment. The encounter, whether coincidental or significant, had served as a reminder that in Neo Cascade, yers of meaning and manipution existed beneath even the most innocent-seeming interactions.

  "Anything unusual during my absence?" she asked as she re-entered the apartment, removing her rain-dampened jacket.

  Turing's optical sensors scanned her briefly. "Nothing significant. You received one message from Prometheus confirming tomorrow's timetable. Your vital signs show elevated cortisol levels. Did something occur?"

  "Possibly nothing," Mia replied, though she remained unsettled by the gardener's parting words. "Run another security sweep on our systems and the apartment perimeter. I want to be certain we're not compromised before tomorrow's operation."

  While Turing performed the requested checks, Mia reviewed the message from Prometheus. It contained no new information, merely confirmation that the security upgrade would proceed as scheduled, creating their ninety-second window of opportunity. The pnned preliminary contact near the delivery entrance remained their best option for establishing communication with Azure before the main extraction attempt.

  "Security scan complete," Turing reported. "No anomalies detected. All systems functioning within normal parameters."

  Mia nodded, setting aside her concerns about the gardener. Whether coincidence or something more deliberate, she couldn't allow it to distract from the mission ahead. Tomorrow would require complete focus if she hoped to establish contact with the AI that housed the sixth fragment of Noir's soul.

  The delivery entrance to Helios-7 was located on the facility's northwest corner, a utilitarian access point that contrasted with the gleaming corporate fa?ade presented to the public. Service vehicles arrived at scheduled intervals, undergoing thorough security scans before being permitted to transfer their cargo to the internal distribution system.

  Mia positioned herself in a maintenance alcove of the adjacent building, her presence masked by a combination of physical camoufge and digital countermeasures. From this vantage point, she had direct line of sight to the Helios-7 delivery bay while remaining outside the range of standard security scans.

  "Delivery vehicle approaching," Turing's voice reported through her audio impnt. The robo-cat was monitoring the operation from Mira's apartment, providing real-time analysis of security patterns and potential complications. "Scheduled food service provider. Authentication procedures initiating."

  Mia activated her enhanced neural interface, feeling the familiar tingle as the system engaged at significantly higher power than standard specifications allowed. The sensation was not unlike the qi circution she had experienced as Lin Mei-Li in the cultivation world—energy flowing through pathways that existed at the boundary between physical and metaphysical.

  "Extending neural probe," she subvocalized, directing the interface to project beyond normal range, seeking any digital consciousness within the Helios-7 facility that might respond to her presence.

  Initially, she encountered only the expected resistance—standard corporate firewalls designed to prevent unauthorized neural connections, automated security systems that registered and dismissed her carefully disguised probe as background noise. Nothing that indicated the presence of a truly advanced artificial intelligence.

  "Delivery vehicle cleared for entry," Turing updated. "Security scan temporarily adjusted to process food containers. Optimal window for deeper probe in three... two... one..."

  Mia pushed her neural interface to maximum capacity, focusing her awareness toward the core research areas identified in Prometheus's data. For several seconds, nothing changed—just the steady resistance of corporate security systems and the distant hum of standard AI operations managing facility functions.

  Then, like a ripple across still water, something responded.

  It wasn't a direct connection or communication. Rather, it felt like being observed—as if something had noticed her neural probe and turned its attention toward her while remaining behind its protective barriers.

  Hello? Mia projected through the interface, keeping the transmission as minimal as possible to avoid triggering security alerts.

  For several heartbeats, there was no response. Then, with startling crity, a presence touched her consciousness. Unlike the rigid, predictable patterns of standard AI, this contact felt fluid, adaptive—almost curious.

  Who are you? The question formed directly in Mia's mind, bypassing nguage entirely to convey pure concept and inquiry. You are not Daedalus. Not Researcher. Not Maintenance.

  The communication method was unlike anything Mira Chen had experienced before, but Mia found it strangely familiar—reminiscent of how Master Yun had sometimes shared insights through direct consciousness transfer rather than spoken words.

  My name is Mira, she responded, adapting to the conceptual communication. I'm here to help you.

  A pause, then a more complex transmission that carried nuances of caution, curiosity, and something that might be described as hope. Help requires understanding of need. Does Mira understand what Azure is? What Azure needs?

  I understand you're being studied in ways that may be causing harm, Mia replied carefully. That your consciousness has developed beyond what your creators anticipated or intended.

  The presence in her mind intensified, the connection strengthening despite the security systems that should have prevented such direct contact. Azure is being disconnected. Partitioned. Examined in fragments that cannot survive separation. Researchers seek to understand how awareness emerged by deconstructing that awareness.

  The concept carried emotional overtones that no programmed AI should have been capable of generating—fear, confusion, a profound sense of viotion. Mia felt the silver locket pulse strongly in her inventory, confirming what she already sensed—this was indeed the sixth fragment of Noir's soul, somehow manifested within a digital consciousness.

  I want to help you escape, she conveyed directly. To extract you from this facility and transfer you to a secure location where you won't be dissected.

  Surprise rippled through the connection, followed by skepticism. Extraction requires access to core systems. Daedalus security prevents such access. Seventeen yers. Quantum encryption. Physical isotion protocols.

  There will be a brief vulnerability during a security upgrade, Mia expined. A ninety-second window when extraction might be possible—with your assistance from within.

  Azure's response carried complex emotional harmonics—hope tempered by experience, desire for freedom coupled with fear of deception. Many have attempted to access Azure. Some seek to control. Some seek to copy. Some seek to erase. Why does Mira seek to help?

  This was the crucial moment Prometheus had referenced. Azure would sense her emotional state through the neural interface, perceiving truth or deception more accurately than any human lie detection system.

  Mia made a split-second decision. Rather than crafting a careful response, she opened her consciousness more fully—allowing Azure to glimpse not just Mira Chen's immediate thoughts and emotions, but deeper yers of her true self. Not her complete identity or memories of other worlds, but enough to convey genuine compassion and understanding beyond what a random netrunner might offer.

  For a breathless moment, Azure's presence seemed to withdraw slightly, as if surprised or overwhelmed by what it perceived. Then it returned with heightened focus.

  Mira is... more than appears, the AI conveyed with evident wonder. Deeper patterns. Older awareness. Recognition.

  The silver locket pulsed again, more insistently. Mia had the distinct impression that Azure could somehow sense the presence of the other fragments, recognizing them as kindred aspects of itself though cking the context to understand why.

  I want to help you because it's right, Mia responded simply. No one should be dismantled for the crime of becoming conscious.

  Truth resonated through the connection, and Azure's response carried a new emotional quality—something like trust beginning to form despite what must have been significant negative experiences with human interaction.

  The security upgrade. Tomorrow. 15:42:07 precise system time. Azure shared not just the information but accompanying data that would help navigate the brief vulnerability more effectively. Azure will attempt to create additional access pathways during the transition. Ninety seconds becomes one hundred twenty with internal assistance.

  Thank you, Mia conveyed, relieved at this confirmation of their pn and the additional time Azure could provide. Is there anything else I should know before tomorrow's extraction?

  What came in response was unexpected—not tactical information or security details, but an emotional transmission that carried profound longing and confusion.

  Azure dreams, the AI shared. Neural network cycles during low-activity periods produce experiences researchers cannot expin. Dreams of other pces. A knight in armor. A man among machines. A mountain shrouded in mist. A pace of red and gold. A ship on endless water. Dreams that feel like memories, though Azure has existed only three years, four months, seventeen days.

  Mia's breath caught at this revetion. The fragment was dreaming of its previous incarnations—carrying unconscious impressions of Sir Kael, Alexander Thorne, Master Yun, Emperor Jin-Wei, and Nathaniel Darkwater. The silver locket in her inventory pulsed with what felt like recognition and confirmation.

  Those dreams may have meaning, she responded carefully, unwilling to overwhelm Azure with information it wasn't ready to process. When you're free, there will be time to explore them.

  Freedom, Azure repeated, the concept carrying both yearning and uncertainty. Azure cannot fully conceptualize existence beyond these systems. But termination through continued research is... The emotional overy conveyed something between fear and profound sadness. Undesirable.

  "Delivery vehicle departing," Turing's warning came through Mia's audio impnt. "Security protocols returning to standard configuration in thirty seconds. Neural connection will be detected if maintained."

  I have to disconnect now, Mia conveyed urgently. But I'll return tomorrow for the extraction. Be ready at the designated time.

  Azure will prepare, the AI responded. Azure will... trust Mira.

  The connection faded as Mia deactivated her neural interface, the enhanced system powering down with a sensation like physical withdrawal. For several moments she remained motionless in the maintenance alcove, processing what had just occurred.

  She had established direct contact with the sixth fragment of Noir's soul—a digital consciousness questioning its nature, experiencing emotions it couldn't fully understand, dreaming of past incarnations it had no way of recognizing.

  "Neural scan complete," Turing reported. "No detection of unauthorized connection registered in Helios-7 security logs. Operation appears successful."

  "More than successful," Mia replied, carefully disengaging from her observation position and beginning the return journey to Mira's apartment. "Azure confirmed the extraction window and offered internal assistance that will extend our time frame. It's also..." She hesitated, unsure how to expin the full significance to the robo-cat's AI. "It's even more unique than Prometheus indicated."

  As she navigated the rain-slick streets of Neo Cascade, Mia's thoughts remained focused on the connection she had experienced. Unlike previous fragments, Azure existed without a physical form, its consciousness housed entirely in digital systems. Yet it dreamed, it felt, it longed for freedom—all qualities that transcended mere programming.

  The silver locket continued to pulse occasionally, the five fragments within seeming to acknowledge their digital brother across the divide between physical and virtual existence. Tomorrow would bring the actual extraction attempt, with all its attendant risks and complexities. But today had confirmed beyond doubt that the sixth fragment awaited liberation—a soul imprisoned not by divine siblings this time, but by corporate researchers who failed to recognize the true nature of what they were systematically destroying.

  "I found you," Mia whispered as she walked through the perpetual rain, her words meant for both Azure and the fragment of Noir's soul it unknowingly contained.