May 1, 2021. 13:23. Rome. 6 days left till the gala.
Hmm… not many days to mess around.
I glance at my phone, staring at the reminder I set for the gala.
Wissen and Dante are already up, moving pieces in the background—calls, messages, meetings I don't need to hear yet. The kind of work that doesn't stop, even after a night like ours.
I exhale softly, adjusting the brim of my cap as I stand near my room's mirror.
Civilian. That's the goal today.
Black cap pulled low, shades to match. Cropped jacket over a fitted top, loose cargo pants, clean sneakers. Nothing flashy—nothing that screams money or trouble.
In premise, just a forgettable tourist.
My fingers brush against the chain at my neck before I grab a small bag, checking the essentials inside—light gear at best, nothing heavy.
The plan? See the city. Understand it. Start mapping routes, access points… anything useful later.
A knock sounds at the door before I can get up to leave.
"Come in," I call, already knowing who it is.
The door swings open, and Shock's right there—leaning against the frame like she owns the place, eyes scanning me top to bottom.
"…Okay," she says slowly. "Who are you and what have you done with my assassin?"
I roll my eyes. "It's called not attracting attention."
"Mmm." She steps in, circling me once like she's inspecting a product. "Low profile, neutral tones, subtle silhouette… yeah, yeah, I get it." Then she pauses briefly, sliding in a cheeky comment. "…Still hot though."
I snort. "I should file a restraining order."
Shock grins, completely unbothered. Then realization dawns on her.
"Ohhh, you're heading out today, my sweet Heart-emis~?" she says, her voice instantly shifting—playful and dramatic. "Do you need an Italian guide~? I spent, like, foreverrrr staking out good eats and attractions for the two of us."
"…Heartemis?"
The realization hits a second later, and I can't help but snort.
"That's awful," I say, grinning despite myself. "You've been waiting all day to use that, haven't you?"
Shock presses a hand to her chest, mock-offended. "Excuse you, I've been workshopping that all week." She leans in slightly, smirking. "And you laughed, so… clearly? Worth it."
I glance back at her, actually considering it.
"You know what?" I admit, a small smile forming. "Sure. I was gonna find someone local to help, but Dante and Wissen don't seem free."
Shock lights up immediately.
I give her another quick look. "Kinda thought you weren't either."
Without missing a beat, she spins toward the hallway and practically yells. "HEY—Y'ALL DON'T NEED ME OUT OR ANYTHING TODAY, RIGHT, DEE DEE?! I WANNA GIVE A TOUR TO OUR GUESTS!"
There's a brief pause.
Then Dante's voice carries back. "No immediate plans for you today," he replies. "But don't forget—the gala is in a few days."
"Yeah, yeah, I know!" Shock calls back. "Work-life balance, babe!"
I huff a quiet laugh.
Then Shock turns back to me, already grabbing her things like the decision was never in question.
"Perfect," she says. "C'mon. I've got places to show you."
I step out into the hallway fully this time, adjusting my cap again.
Mister steps out from down the hall, composed and already dressed, adjusting his gloves slightly as he approaches.
"Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear the conversation. If any of you would like to join me," he says calmly, "I'll also be confirming a few of my connections here in Italy. Nothing urgent—just… ensuring business remains stable." He glances toward Shock, pausing slightly. "Do you happen to know any places that are public enough that no one can cause a scene?"
Shock doesn't even look at him at first.
"Uhhhh… maybe, likeeee—the Colosseum?" she says, completely deadpan. "That's like hellaaa public." She waves a hand dismissively. "I don't know, dude, just… outside? How public do you need 'public' to be?" Then she pauses. "Oh—wait, before I forget—"
She suddenly spins back into the room, loudly rummaging through her stuff. Anyone passing by would probably see things getting tossed around—clothes, gadgets, random tech—before she finally finds something.
"Got it!"
She comes back out and tosses a small box toward Mister. "I gotchu a gift~"
Mister catches it cleanly, tilting his head slightly before opening it.
Shock claps her hands once, beaming. "Tah-daaaah! It's a brand new voice box thingy," she says proudly. "So don't go around saying I don't do things for you."
Then she spins around dramatically, louder than before. "I have other gifts for everyone—BUT NOT TETRA, since he didn't sleep over with us!"
Just when I think she's done, she slides over to Tetra anyway, leaning in like she's about to reveal some massive secret.
"…Not really," she whispers with a grin. "Can't stay mad at you, babes~! Just gimme a sec—I'll fix something up for you."
I snort, the disbelief obvious on my face. "Wha—" I shake my head, laughing. "Never mind."
Tetra blinks, a little caught off guard. "Oh—no, that's okay, really, I don't need anything…" He pauses, glancing down at himself. "…Though, if we're supposed to fit in at this gala, I might, uh… need help finding something to wear." He grimaces slightly, tugging at his worn clothes.
I roll my eyes, clicking my tongue. "Alright, c'mon, mermaid man." A small smirk slips through. "We'll get you something."
"Omg WAIT," Shock suddenly cuts in, already pulling up a holo display. "You know that one model I've been getting my inspo from? Gina Kyung. We NEED to get fits like hers."
She whips out her phone, a board of pictures lighting up as outfits snap into place, one after another.
Right there—in the center—are photos of me from throughout my modelling career.
"Oh—" I blink once. Twice. "…Yeah." I straighten slightly, recovering fast. "I'm sure we can find something similar while we're out."
Tetra and Shock both stare at me.
"Plenty of stores carry similar looks," I add smoothly. "Trust me—it's easy to replicate her outfits."
Mister steps in, unfazed, gesturing lightly toward his room.
"If we're of similar size, Tetra, you're welcome to borrow one of my suit jackets," he says. "They're customized—bulletproof lining. You'd be protected and properly dressed for the occasion. You'd only need to purchase pants and a shirt."
Tetra's eyes widen slightly. "Oh—wow."
Even I'm a little impressed.
"…Yeah," I admit. "Honestly? Try that first." A faint smirk tugs at my lips. "We can handle styling after."
Shock immediately deflates.
"Great," she groans dramatically. "So my inspo board is just a whole nothing burger with a side of blah."
"Okay—we didn't say that," I shoot back, rolling my eyes.
She pouts anyway. Of course.
I laugh. "Hey! At least—I mean it."
"Fine," she shoots back, her tone dripping with fake passive-aggressiveness.
Right then, Dante steps out of his room.
He gives us a small nod, his eyes flicking briefly to Shock. "Enjoy the city. I'll be heading out to make my own preparations as well."
There's no hesitation with him—he moves past us and leaves the building.
Wissen, meanwhile—I sneak a glance toward his room and see he's staying put, door closed, already buried in work.
Mister nods in Shock's direction, almost like a small bow. "I didn't mean to discredit your inspiration board," he says calmly. "However, I do believe your creativity will still do wonders for our friend at the gala, yes? After all… no one understands fashion quite like netrunners."
"Mhmmm…" My voice trails off slightly, but I give a small nod anyway. "Actually… you know what?"
I shift the conversation, nudging Shock lightly. "I'm kinda curious about your style," I admit. "Maybe we could, uh… try picking out outfits for each other?"
Shock pauses, then slowly turns to look at both of us.
"…You and that silver tongue of yours," she says, narrowing her eyes playfully. "Making it sound like both an insult and a compliment." She crosses her arms. "If it weren't for the goodness of my heart, Mister, I'd take back the voice box I sourced so you could fix your little helmet thingy yourself."
Mister tilts his head. "…I don't believe I was insulting your fashion sense," he says. "From my understanding, no one's style is more unique than that of netrunners."
He pauses, then adds, "I only know one other netrunner who has… 'outslayed' you, Shock."
"Excuse me?" Shock gasps, then immediately shakes her head.
"Actually, you know what? Don't answer that." She claps once, switching gears instantly. "Okay—new plan." Her eyes light up. "You text me your sizes, I'll text you mine, and we meet up later with full fits. Surprise factor. Maximum impact."
She spins toward Tetra, locking onto him like a target.
"Tetraaaaa," she drags out, stepping closer with full puppy-dog eyes, hands clasped. "Pleaseeeee come with me. I need a second opinion… and a big strong man to carry all my bags."
I snort, sigh, then laugh. "For fuck's sake…" I mutter, already pulling out my phone. "Fine. Let's just head out after." I quickly type out my measurements and send them over.
Then a door swings open down the hall. Remi stumbles out, rubbing his eyes, hair a mess.
"Chooms, what the fuck is going on?" he groans. "Man, this jet lag is kicking my ass right now…"
I glance over, barely holding back a smile. "Morning to you too."
He squints at me. "…Why do you look like you're about to go undercover in a Zara ad?"
"Because I am? Why do you look like you lost a fight with your own bed?"
"…Aight, first of all—fuck you. Secondly, what's happening right now?"
Tetra watches the exchange with mild amusement, arms loosely crossed, clearly enjoying staying out of it.
Then he looks back to Shock and shrugs, easygoing. "Yeah, sure. Not like I've got anywhere else to be."
He glances over his shoulder at Mister, offering a genuine smile. "And thanks for the loan. Got a feeling that bulletproofing might come in handy."
Mister gives a small nod, then gestures slightly toward the exit. "You're welcome. Though—if you're available, I would prefer you accompany me first. A second presence is… useful. Afterward, you're free to join them."
Shock immediately frowns, cutting in. "Excuse me?" She points at Tetra. "No, no, no—you don't just get stolen like that. We have plans. Important plans. Fashion-critical plans." She steps closer, narrowing her eyes. "You better not ghost me."
Tetra chuckles lightly. "I won't."
"Say it," she presses.
He sighs, amused. "I won't forget."
"Say it with conviction."
"I won't forget," he repeats, a bit more firmly.
"…Fine." She huffs. "You get one detour."
Satisfied enough, she waves him off.
Mister gives a final nod before turning toward the exit. "I'll take my leave, then. Tetra—when you're ready."
They split off shortly after, heading out together.
I watch them go for a second, then glance back at the others.
"…Alright," I say, adjusting my cap again. "Let's get moving before she decides we need three outfit changes before lunch."
"HEY," Shock snaps immediately. "That's not even a bad idea!"
Remi looks between us, completely lost. "…Wait—what are we doing?"
Shock grabs his wrist and starts dragging him toward the door. "We're fixing your entire existence."
"YO—WHAT?" he stumbles. "I just woke up—"
I chuckle, stepping past him. "Relax. Just go with it."
He blinks. "…Go with what?"
"We're getting you 'dripped out'."
He pauses for a beat, processing. Then he lights up.
"OH SHIT—FUCK YEAH."
Just like that, his confusion disappears, and we're out the door.
…
May 1, 2021. 17:09. Rome. 6 days left till the gala.
The next few hours blur together faster than I expected.
Somewhere between stepping out into Rome and actually remembering why we came here, Shock completely takes over.
Not in a subtle way either.
One second we're "grabbing a few things", next thing I know, she's got a full board of pictures up on her phone, dragging outfits around like she's planning a corporate takeover—but for fashion.
"Tetra's definitely giving… nautical," she mutters at one point, zooming in on a rotating 3D model of him like that's a completely normal thing to have saved. "Blues, whites… clean lines. Maybe an ascot. No shirt if he trusts the vision."
"…You just have a model of him?" I ask.
"Don't worry about it," she shoots back instantly.
"Right…"
Remi, meanwhile, looks like he regrets every decision that led him here.
"Dawg, this shit is taking too long. I'm thinking a suit or somethin'," he says at one point, shrugging. "Ooh—y'all can slap in a pimp cane or something too."
I smack him hard after that.
"BRO?!" he snaps, turning to me.
"Focus, jackass. We're going to a gala, not a 'joytoy auction.'"
"Choom, I am focused."
"No, you're not."
Shock hums thoughtfully. "Okay, maybeeee I could push for a concealed weapon cane. That would slay."
"…Fire," Remi mutters. "Preem, even."
What actually ends up happening is we take turns.
Shock throws options at me—pieces that flatter my silhouette, layered with her own flair and taste.
One of her picks sticks out: a flowing evening gown in a deep wine-red, sheer black lace sleeves trailing into floral patterns that fade softly into the body of the dress. The structure's clean and elegant—romantic without trying too hard.
"…Okay," I admit, eyeing it. "That's actually good."
She lights up immediately, of course. Afterwards, we flip it.
For her, we keep it simple—sleek and controlled. A minimalist black gown, one-shoulder cut with a sheer draped sleeve, just enough movement without drawing attention. Form-fitting, floor-length, a subtle slit for mobility—not for show.
Perfect for her to disappear into a crowd.
She stares at it for a second.
"…Wait…I could actually pull this off."
"Yeah, you pull off the sexy angle pretty well," I add casually.
Shock freezes, then slowly turns to me.
"…Are you confessing to me right now?"
"Don't make me regret complimenting you."
"Too late."
She's already grinning.
Guy fashion, unfortunately, is a little more limited—and Remi doesn't help.
Every time we turn a corner, he ends up trying to get something as "chromed out" as possible, and it takes a solid amount of back-and-forth to drag him away from his Surrey hoodlum instincts.
"No chains?" he complains at one point.
"No," I say flatly.
"…Minimal chains?"
"Remi."
"Okay, okay—damn, man."
Every now and then, Shock goes back to Tetra's model—tilting it, adjusting it, narrowing her eyes like she's about to solve world hunger.
"Yassss… this works," she nods to herself. "Thoughts?" She shoves her phone in my face.
At this point, I've stopped questioning it.
"…Lose the heavier layering," I say after a second, pointing at the screen. "If he's moving around, it's gonna look stiff. Keep it lighter—cleaner lines. Let it breathe a bit more."
She pauses, then nods. "Okayyyyy, waittttt—that actually eats."
I lean in every now and then, offering small input—colours, texture, shape.
And she actually listens.
Plus, to her credit, the outfits aren't bad at all—if anything, the whole thing ends up being… kinda fun.
By the time we're done, we've got enough ideas to make something work for the gala. Maybe even some backups.
Shock claps her hands once, satisfied.
"Alright, alright—enough of our girls' day," she says, already turning and leading us down the busy market streets. "I think Remi's been well-behaved enough. He deserves a little reward."
Remi perks up instantly. "Finally!"
"C'mon," she adds, glancing back at us with a grin. "I'll treat y'all to a little hole-in-the-wall spot. Last time I was here, they had the best arancini."
As she leads us through the streets, I finally get a chance to take Rome in properly.
It's crowded, alive, and loud in that same way Vancouver is—but at the same time, it's different. Cleaner. Older. Not just in architecture, but in how it carries itself. Like it's already weathered worse than whatever the rest of the world's been dealing with since the crash, and came out the other side intact.
And… yeah, I'm enjoying it more than I thought I would.
Which explains why we're here now—at the arancini spot.
By the time we sit down, we've already slipped into some small, rustic mom-and-pop place—tight space, warm lighting, the kind of spot you'd miss if you weren't looking for it. Definitely the kind of place only a local would know.
Shock's been talking the entire way in, barely stopping for air as she drags us along.
"And if y'all are insistent on seeing tourist hot spots—which, by the way, is not very lit crazy wild—I can grab tickets while we wait for the food. But trust me on this, chat, the Eternal City's got way more secrets for people who actually know how to listen…"
"Ayoooo, choom's talking like a real streamer," Remi mutters.
"What the fuck is happening right now," I say, half baffled, half entertained as I settle into my seat.
"Eat. Eat! We've got a lot of travelling to do."
Before anyone can argue, plates of arancini start landing in front of us—hot, fresh, stacked. Golden shells, crisp on the outside, steam barely escaping through tiny cracks where they've been pulled apart.
Remi's already reaching for one, barely waiting before tearing into it, clearly ready to destroy his portion without hesitation—until I speak.
Because something feels off.
Shock hasn't touched her food. She's just pushing it around absentmindedly.
I raise a brow, catching the way Shock's staring at her phone.
"You good?" I ask, lighter than I expect, still laced with confusion.
Remi freezes mid-bite, mouth still open. "Yo. What the malfunction?"
Shock blinks, like she just got pulled back into the moment. "Huh? Yeah—yeah, I'm good," she says quickly. "It's just… a lot to take in right now."
She slips her phone back into her pocket a second later, like whatever was on it didn't matter.
There's a brief pause before she leans in slightly. "And don't you dare repeat this to anyone," she adds, lowering her voice. "But I… don't actually know Italian."
I stare at her. "…What."
"I just use a really good translator app on my cyberdeck," she continues, way too casually.
"Choom, what?" Remi's still stuck mid-bite.
"You're telling me that's why you're nervous?" I don't even try to hide it—I don't buy it for a second. "If you don't wanna talk about it, that's fine."
She pauses, then exhales. "I want to. I just… can't. Not right now."
And just like that, she pivots.
"Look, let's just eat. Then we head to the Capitoline Museums," she says, a little more controlled now. "There's a way to sneak into the Forums from there."
Remi looks like he's about to push it—but I elbow him.
"OW—"
"Eat, jackass."
He shuts up immediately.
I glance back at Shock, giving her a small nod.
Part of me wants to push. To press just a little harder, get her to actually say what's going on—but the thought barely forms before something else cuts in.
Azure.
That same unfinished feeling. The lack of closure. The way things just… ended without really ending.
I don't know if she's okay, where she is, what she's dealing with, or if she even made it out clean. And there's this quiet, annoying weight sitting in the back of my mind because of it—something between regret and frustration that I can't quite shake.
So I end up hesitating.
I don't even know where that line is yet—when to push, when to back off with any of my teammates now that I think about it. When someone needs space versus when they need to be forced to talk.
And in my silence, the moment passes.
The table shifts into something quieter after that—not awkward, just muted. Remi goes right back to demolishing his food like nothing happened, occasionally letting out a satisfied hum between bites, while the rest of us fall into a more subdued rhythm.
We wrap up not long after, finishing what's left before slipping out of the small shop and back into the streets.
The air outside hits a little different—louder, more alive—as we merge back into the flow of people, moving without much urgency, just letting the city carry us for a bit.
At first, it feels a little off.
Maybe a little awkward. But… that might just be me.
Remi clearly doesn't care. He's already pulling out his phone, snapping pictures of everything—buildings, streets, random corners like he's documenting the whole damn city.
It's… kind of funny, actually. I end up chiming in here and there, giving my thoughts, pointing things out, half-teasing him while we walk.
Shock joins in occasionally, but it's lighter and brief.
A few more minutes pass like that until she checks something on her phone again, and for a split second, her focus sharpens—like she's locking back in—before it disappears just as quickly.
She leans back slightly as we walk. "Alright. Soooo..."
Her eyes flick between us.
"If you two wanna keep things interesting…" she says, tone picking back up, "we could take a little detour."
Is she okay now?
I narrow my eyes slightly. "Define detour."
"The Capitoline Museums connect close enough to the Forums," she says casually. "Andddd if you know where to look… there are ways in that don't involve waiting in line like a tourist."
"Word?" Remi's already leaning forward. "Say less."
"Of course you're in," I mutter.
Shock grins. "C'mon. Don't tell me you're not even a litttttle curious."
"I'm curious," I admit. "I'm also not trying to get caught or arrested in a foreign country."
"Relaxxxx, bestie," she waves it off. "We're not breaking in. We're just… using alternative access."
My gaze lingers on her for a second. "…And what exactly are we getting out of this?"
She tilts her head slightly, her smile sharpening just a bit. "Well… if we happen to come across anything interesting…" A brief pause. "You get first dibs."
"This is stupid."
"Stupidly funnnn~!"
"I doubt it." I shake my head, dragging a hand through my hair before letting it fall back into place.
It's easy to see how this could go wrong—security issues, bad timing, being in the wrong place at the wrong moment.
I could probably handle something half-baked like this.
But them?
I don't say it out loud, but it lingers anyway.
Shock, acting off one second, then pushing forward like nothing's wrong. Remi, loud and reckless, throwing himself into whatever comes next without thinking twice.
And somehow, I'm the one supposed to keep that from going sideways.
My thoughts flicker—brief, uninvited.
Azure again.
I already shut that down once, but it creeps back anyway.
A small, irritating thought—what if I talked to her instead of Mister? Would anything have changed? Would it have gone differently?
I don't know, and I hate that I don't know.
So I push it down, again.
"…Fine," I mutter. "But if this goes sideways—"
"It won't," Shock cuts in immediately. "I promiseeeee."
"YO—this is gonna be gas," Remi blurts, practically bouncing on his feet, already hyped like we're about to walk into a party instead of potential trouble. "We don't need any iron right?"
I sigh, pulling my hair back and tying it up properly this time.
Yeah… this is a bad idea.
Which is exactly why I'm going.