The Zenith facility's debrief room was a sterile cage of glass and steel, its holo-table casting a cold glow over Alex Mercer's tense frame. The neural relay, still pulsing faintly blue, sat in its case before Carlton, whose gray eyes dissected the team like a blade. Alex leaned back, his tactical gear scuffed from the XinTech heist, his head throbbing with fragments of memories—gunfire, a burning city, a name: New Haven. Huei sat beside him, her holo-device dark, her sharp gaze flicking between Alex and the others. Shvery, arm bandaged from a drone's bolt, glowered across the table, his distrust palpable.
Carlton's voice was clipped. "The relay's secured, but tripping XinTech's secondary grid was amateur. Explain."
Huei straightened, taking the hit. "My scan missed it—deep encryption. Won't happen again."
"Shouldn't have happened at all," Shvery growled, his eyes locking on Alex. "Mercer froze out there. Twice."
Alex's jaw clenched, the accusation stinging. "I got us out, didn't I?" His voice was steady, but inside, he churned. The memory flashes—explosions, a woman's voice, "They're coming!"—had nearly cost them. Fae's note, hidden in his pocket, burned: They've taken your mind.
Carlton's gaze lingered on Alex, assessing. "You delivered the relay. That's what counts. But Shvery's right—you were off. Med bay after this. Clear?"
"Clear," Alex said, forcing calm. He didn't trust Carlton's concern, not with Zenith's logo glaring from the walls.
Huei's foot nudged his under the table, a silent question. He ignored it, her concern a risk he wasn't ready to take. The debrief dragged—tactics dissected, XinTech's retaliation predicted. Carlton assigned them downtime, but his final words were sharp: "No mistakes next op. Dismissed."
In his quarters, Alex shed his gear, the silence heavy. He pulled Fae's note from his pocket, unfolding it with trembling fingers. The scrawl was fierce: They've taken your mind, kid. Remember who you are. —Fae. A flash hit—auburn hair, a blade flashing, a smirk under neon lights. His pulse spiked. Who was Fae? Why did her words feel like a lifeline?
He hid the note under his bunk, but the room felt like a trap. Zenith's sterile order—cameras in every corner, guards at every door—screamed control. Another flash: a collapsing tower, a man's voice, "You're our edge." Alex gripped the sink, staring into the mirror. His face was his, but the eyes—haunted, searching—belonged to someone else.
A knock jolted him. Huei slipped in, her holo-device tucked away, her expression a mix of caution and curiosity. "You didn't freeze because of the grid," she said, voice low. "What's going on, Mercer?"
He hesitated, Fae's warning a wall between them. "Just… off," he said, deflecting. "Head's messed up."
She stepped closer, undeterred. "I saw you out there—your moves, your instincts. You're not just some operative. What don't you know?"
Her bluntness disarmed him. "I don't know me," he admitted, the truth slipping out. "Flashes—memories that aren't mine. You ever feel that?"
Huei's eyes softened, but her voice stayed sharp. "No. But I know Zenith's not clean. They watch us too close." She paused, glancing at the door. "If you're digging, I'm in—but we're careful."
He nodded, a fragile trust forming. "Deal."
She left, and Alex sank onto the bunk, Fae's note a weight in his mind. He needed answers—about Zenith, about himself. The relay mission was done, but its purpose gnawed at him. What was the neural relay really for?
Hours later, unable to sleep, he slipped into the facility's lower levels, Huei's clearance codes—swiped during prep—unlocking a maintenance hatch. The corridors were dim, humming with hidden tech. He moved silently, instincts guiding him to a restricted server room. Another flash hit—a woman's scream, "They're taking it!"—nearly dropping him to his knees.
Inside, terminals glowed, data streaming. Alex plugged in a stolen drive, Huei's trick, siphoning files. A holo flickered—schematics, neural relays linked to something called "Control Grid." His blood ran cold. Another file: "Subject AM-17, Memory Suppression—Stable." AM. Alex Mercer?
Footsteps echoed. He yanked the drive, ducking behind a server as Shvery entered, his rifle slung but eyes scanning. "Mercer, I know you're here," he called, voice low. "Sneaking's a bad look."
Alex held his breath, slipping out a side vent as Shvery turned. Back in his quarters, he stashed the drive, heart pounding. Shvery's suspicion was a problem, but the files were a bombshell. Zenith wasn't just stealing tech—they were building something bigger, and he was part of it.
Morning brought a new briefing. Carlton stood, his presence commanding. "XinTech's retaliating—intel says they're targeting our safehouses. We strike first, eliminate their lead scientist. Mercer, you're point."
Alex nodded, but his mind was elsewhere—Control Grid, memory suppression, Fae's warning. Huei caught his eye, a silent pact. Shvery's glare burned, his distrust a ticking bomb.
As they geared up, Alex tucked Fae's note deeper, its words a spark. The scientist was a target, but Zenith was the enemy. He'd play their game—for now. But the flashes were growing, the truth clawing free. He wasn't their pawn much longer.
The transport waited, Shenzhen's neon haze a blur outside. Alex gripped his staff, the weight grounding him. Whatever Zenith had taken, he'd take it back—one fragment at a time.