The sound of rapid keystrokes filled Kai's basement, layered beneath the low hum of cooling fans. A trio of monitors glowed in the dim space, their blue light casting sharp angles across her face as she leaned in, eyes focused behind her blue light glasses. The damaged drone core sat beside her keyboard like a war trophy, wires snaking from its cracked shell into a diagnostic bridge.
"I swear this place gets creepier every time we come down here," Kilo muttered from across the room, reclining sideways in a beat-up lawn chair he'd clearly claimed as his own. He tossed a rubber washer toward a tool bin. It missed.
"Don't touch anything labeled in red," Kai called, eyes never leaving the screen. "Or glowing. Or wired to something else that's glowing."
"So... everything?"
The rest of Zteel was gathered around her desk in a loose semicircle, curious but wary.
"So…" Sage began. "The drone."
"Yeah," Kai said. "It's still half-fried from whatever you did to him, but most of the system board's intact. Whoever built it didn't expect anyone to extract it, much less plug it into a civilian port."
"Wait, hold on," Aurora leaned forward. "You're telling me you're actually able to read that thing?"
"Yep," Kai muttered, fingers flying. Lines of raw hex and obfuscated code scrolled by in rapid succession.
"How?"
"Photographic Modus," Nyota answered.
Three heads turned.
"She has what now?" Aurora blinked.
"Since when?" Kilo sat up.
"So… you two've been swapping secrets in the dark?" Sage raised an eyebrow.
Nyota raised his hands defensively. "She—uh—told me during recon. It came up naturally!"
"Sure it did," Aurora smirked. "Naturally over tea and candlelight, I bet."
"It wasn't like that," Nyota said quickly, face warming.
Sage rubbed his chin. "So, that explains why you were 'meditating' during our mission downtown. You were honing a Modus."
"Look at you two," Kilo said, grinning. "Sharing Modi. Adorable."
"Shut up!" Kai snapped, cheeks tinged pink as she spun around in her rolling chair to glare at them. "Do you want answers or not!?"
The room fell quiet—though not without a few exchanged smirks.
"Huh… No wonder you're so smart," Kilo muttered, half under his breath, eyes on Kai.
Kai turned back to the screens. A moment passed. Then another.
"Okay," she said. "Here it is."
A pair of windows popped open on the center screen.
"There's an embedded project string in the code. Something called 'REV-zero-K.' Stylized as 'Revok.'"
"That's what we thought," Aurora said. "I remember the tag—'Subject 04.'"
"It's here too," Kai confirmed. She highlighted the raw string.
SUBJECT_04
REVOK_LVL.X_KERNAL_UPD_04
"Looks like Onnyx wasn't just enhanced. He was part of a long-term weapons program. The kernel update allowed live patches to be pushed during combat."
"Wait—you mean someone could change his programming in real time?" Sage asked.
"Exactly."
"So he was like... some kind of half-man, half-machine?" Kilo asked. "He bled. But inside—it wasn't all blood."
"Hybrid," Kai nodded. "Flesh integrated with industrial parts. Printed nerves, synthetic tendons, reinforced bone."
She glanced at Nyota briefly. "He was designed to look almost human—engineered, monitored, controlled."
Aurora's jaw tightened. "Then who controlled him?"
Kai's eyes flicked to Aurora, then back to the screen. Her voice was quiet, but clear.
"Whoever held the uplink. Whoever had access to the Revok kernel in real time. Could've been a handler on-site… could've been remote." She tapped a few keys, and another window popped open—a map of data streams and failed satellite pings. "From what I can tell, there were signal bridges—short bursts of control routed through proxy relays. Someone was watching. Someone was deciding."
Aurora's jaw tightened. "Then he wasn't just made. He was used."
Kai gave a single nod. "This wasn't a combat mod. It was a behavioral overwrite. They weren't just trying to enhance reflexes or targeting systems."
She leaned in toward the monitor, her voice sharpening.
"They tried to manipulate volition itself. Choice."
Aurora turned toward her, brow furrowed. "You mean free will?"
Kai shook her head. "I mean instinct. The most basic layer of decision-making—what you run from, what you fight for, what you fear. They didn't want obedience. They wanted predictability."
Sage crossed his arms. "So Onnyx might not have wanted to fight us at all."
"Doesn't matter," Aurora said, flat. "They built him to act without hesitation. Whether he wanted to or not doesn't change what he did."
Nyota looked down, his hands tightening into fists at his sides.
Kai didn't respond immediately. Her eyes scanned a line of code still ticking in the corner of the screen.
"Well, the thing is I don't think anyone's controlling him anymore," she said quietly. "At least… not now. The uplink channels are dormant. Whatever program tethered him—it's been severed."
"You're saying he's free?" Kilo asked, blinking.
"I'm saying he's loose," Kai replied. "And depending on how much of that overwrite stuck… that might be worse."
A heavy silence fell over the group.
Then Kai typed again, fingers moving faster now.
"There's something else," she said. "I just found a suppressed system signature buried in the architecture."
A logo blinked into view—a minimalist seal marked with the initials D.E.W.D.
Kai read it aloud: "Department of Experimental Weaponized Development."
Kilo blinked. "That's... not ominous at all."
"I've never even heard of it," Nyota said.
"You wouldn't," Kai murmured. "There's practically no footprint. No public files. It's not even indexed in the Lunanova archives."
"It's real," Aurora said grimly. "I've heard of it in passing—whispers mostly. A few old intel drops we flagged for redirection. Deep black projects. Untraceable budgets."
"You think Noriko's behind it?" Sage asked her.
Aurora hesitated. "Not directly. She's not the type to tinker in labs. But if this was signed off by anyone, it had to pass her desk. She greenlit it—whether she knew the details or not."
Kai stared at the seal a second longer before closing the window.
"Whoever they are," she said, "they buried this and they did it for obvious reasons."
The room stayed quiet for a moment, screens dimming to a low hum.
"I still don't get it, though," Kilo finally said, arms crossed behind his head as he slumped back in Kai's second chair. "Why would he attack? What is it he's trying to accomplish?"
Sage leaned forward, brow furrowed. "Based on what he said, he's probably just trying to get back at Noriko. Only problem is he has no regard for civilian life."
Aurora gave a short nod. "Classic rogue agent behavior. If he was once under control and now isn't, there's no leash anymore. Just anger—and programming."
"But he wasn't just lashing out," Nyota added, his voice low. "There was precision to some of it. Like he wanted people to see."
"Yeah," Kai said. "A message wrapped in chaos."
Another silence fell. Until—
"So," Kilo piped up, "does this mean you're still trying to add Malik to the group? You know... given all... this."
Aurora shot him a look. "Don't joke."
"I'm not," he shrugged. "I'm just saying, if we're talking about unpredictable half-machine weirdos, might as well cover all our bases."
Sage's gaze flicked to Nyota, cool and even. "We don't even know where he came from… An assassin just casually hanging out in the city, from the military, no less. I'm sorry, Nyota, but I don't trust him."
"He helped us," Nyota said. "He didn't have to. He could've gone back."
"Back from where?" Aurora shook her head. "That's what I wanna know."
Sage crossed his arms. "Look, we're not saying Malik's some sleeper agent waiting to stab us in our sleep. But we've already been through enough. You can't just... gamble on people like that, Nyota."
Aurora nodded in agreement. "You let sentiment override safety. That's what compromises a group like this."
Kilo, still lounging, muttered, "Man just wants to add another stray to the squad."
"I mean, Nyota trusted me once," Kai rebutted casually, her eyes still fixed to her computer.
Sage didn't look convinced. Aurora stood with arms folded.
Nyota's eyes dropped, guilt flickering behind them. "I just thought... he reminded me of us. Of what we were like at the start."
"Exactly my point," Aurora said. "You saw yourself in him—and you ignored the risk."
"Alright, enough," Kai said sharply, spinning in her chair to face them fully. "It was a mistake. An honest one. He trusted me before any of you knew my name. Just like you all trusted Aurora. Just like he trusted Sage and Kilo. Zteel exists because of Nyota's heart and discernment—not in spite of them."
She paused, her eyes leveling with Sage and Aurora in turn.
"You're not wrong to be cautious. But don't forget who brought us together in the first place. Zteel exists because he believed in us. That's got to count for something."
Nyota sighed. "I just think... Maybe they're trying to be more than what they made them to be. Onnyx… Malik…"
Kai nodded softly. "Then let's find out exactly who made all of them—and why."
The room fell quiet.
Kai exhaled, and for the first time that night, leaned back in her chair. "Honestly, though, my biggest threat right now is finals week, so that's what I'm most concerned about at the moment."
Kilo snorted. "Wow. Imagine being hunted by government goons and still worrying about high school."
Kai smirked faintly. "Well, unlike you, I still plan to graduate."
Kilo held a hand to his chest, mock-wounded. "Wow. How cold."
Sage looked toward Nyota, his expression still serious, but less sharp. "We'll keep watching him. But for now, no more surprises. We move together. Always."
Nyota nodded. "Agreed."
Aurora turned back to the screen. "Let's just hope we find answers faster than Onnyx can make a mess of the city."
With the swift movement of her wireless mouse, Kai turned her desktop monitor off. "We'll do it. All I ask is that you just give me a little bit of time."