ACT I — THE CITY NEVER SLEPT
Scene 1: Rooftops and Static
The city never really slept; it stalled. Neon drowned in a steady rain that made every ledge slick and every shadow look occupied. Ace crouched on the rim of a billboard, a black cutout against a bruise-colored sky. Barely four feet of bone and nerve and practice, wrapped in matte fabric that ate light and gave nothing back. Her swords rested in a cross against her spine, sheaths humming faintly with the same electricity that thickened the air before a storm.
She watched. She listened. The city talked in signals no one else noticed—power fluctuations, sickly glows that gathered around certain doorways, a pulse like a skipped heartbeat under a manhole cover. Warp resonance. She’d learned its patterns the way sailors learned weather. Tonight it felt…coiled. Wrong.
Her phone vibrated.
“—Ace,” Mai said. Not a greeting, a warning. “Three of them. Alley off Kanda. Black sedan with Foundation plates—hacked. They boxed me in—” Metal crunched. A muffled curse. “Disruptor’s—” The line disintegrated into a squeal of static and glass.
Ace flicked water from her lashes. “Stay alive.” She pushed the word into the rain as if Mai could hear it.
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