Arc of Destiny

The city's labyrinthine alleys were Eric's sanctuary as he moved under the cover of darkness. The AI's persistent warnings about the reactor's synchronization nagged at him, but he pushed them aside. He needed help—someone who knew the city's hidden corners better than any surveillance drone or patrol unit.

As dawn broke, Eric found himself in the heart of the city's underground district, a sprawling maze of markets and hideouts where legality was a loose term. Neon lights flickered overhead, advertising everything from counterfeit tech to mercenary services. He kept his head down, the reactor's glow obscured by his jacket. Here, anonymity was currency.

Eric's destination was a small, unmarked shop tucked between two dilapidated buildings. The sign above the door flickered faintly, displaying a single word: "Eden." He pushed open the door, a small bell chiming as he entered.

The interior was cluttered with shelves of old electronics, wires, and gadgets. Behind the counter stood a wiry man with sharp eyes and grease-streaked hands. He looked up, his expression shifting from irritation to recognition.

"Eric Stanton," the man said, his voice low. "Haven't seen you in years. Figured you were dead."

"Not yet, Rami," Eric replied, glancing around the shop. "I need your help."

Rami leaned on the counter, his gaze scrutinizing. "Help? Last time I helped you, my shop got raided. What makes you think I'd risk it again?"

Eric pulled back his jacket, revealing the faint glow of the reactor. Rami's eyes widened.

"Is that…?"

"Yeah," Eric interrupted. "And now half the city's hunting me for it."

Rami whistled low. "You've got some nerve bringing that here. Who's after you?"

"A group led by someone named Kane," Eric said. "She called herself a director. They're using tech way beyond anything I've seen."

Rami's expression darkened. "Kane… That's not a name you want to hear. She's with an organization called Sentinel. They specialize in taking people like you apart and using what's left."

Eric's stomach turned. "Then you understand why I need your help."

Rami hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. But if Sentinel's involved, we have to move fast. What do you need?"

"First, I need this thing stabilized," Eric said, gesturing to the reactor. "The AI says it's syncing too low."

Rami grabbed a toolkit from under the counter. "Let me see." He motioned for Eric to sit on a stool near the back of the shop. With careful hands, Rami examined the reactor, his tools glinting in the dim light.

"This isn't standard tech," Rami muttered, his brow furrowing. "Where did you get it?"

"It was… a gift," Eric said vaguely. "Can you fix it?"

Rami didn't press further. "I can stabilize it temporarily, but if you keep pushing it like you did to escape, it'll burn out."

Eric nodded. "I'll take what I can get."

As Rami worked, the shop's front door opened, the bell chiming softly. Eric tensed, his hand moving to the wrench at his side. Rami glanced up, his expression hardening.

"Relax," Rami said. "She's with me."

A woman stepped into view, her movements fluid and deliberate. She wore a hooded jacket, and her eyes glinted with sharp intelligence. She studied Eric for a moment before speaking.

"You're the one causing all the trouble," she said. "I'm Nyssa."

Eric's grip on the wrench relaxed slightly. "Eric. And yeah, that's me."

"Nyssa's been keeping tabs on Sentinel," Rami said, not looking up from his work. "If anyone knows their next move, it's her."

Nyssa crossed her arms. "Kane won't stop until she has that reactor. But she's not the only one interested in you. Sentinel has enemies, and some of them might be willing to help."

Eric frowned. "Enemies? Who?"

"There's a group called the Iron Ghosts," Nyssa said. "Ex-military, ex-agents—people Sentinel burned. They've been fighting back in the shadows. If we can find them, they might give us a fighting chance."

Rami finished his work, stepping back. "That should hold for now. But if you're going after the Ghosts, you'll need more than a patched-up reactor and a wrench."

Eric stood, adjusting his jacket. "Then let's find them. The sooner we take the fight to Sentinel, the better."

Nyssa smirked. "Bold. I like it. Follow me."

As Eric followed Nyssa out of the shop, his mind churned with possibilities. For the first time in weeks, he felt a spark of hope. The Iron Ghosts might be his only chance to turn the tide against Sentinel.

And he wasn't going down without a fight.