‘Chromatic Wreckage’, the latest track by Laser Lust, and one of Rae’s favourites songs pounded through the metal floor. Irintia had hoped the heavy synth rock would drown out Rae’s screams, but the echoes clung stubbornly to her mind’s forefront. She sat hunched on her bed, knees drawn to her heart, her forehead pressed against the icy touch of the glass window. Holographic banner advertisements for ‘Pulse, Adaptive Clothing’, the current trending fashion for streets rolled across the pane. It’s neon glistening in her tear-streaked face. She forcefully starred at the rainbow displays formed by the refracted lights of the rooftop garden below, trying desperately to replace the image of her love’s throat, ripping out towards her. She had never felt this hollow. The incessant vaults between rage and sorrow were maddening. She had no control over what she felt. Maybe, she thought, the black box would provide a small comfort. Maybe hearing her voice again will help lessen the painful ache in her gut.

  She glanced at the black box resting innocuously on the scarred nightstand, its sleek surface absorbing the pulse of ambient light. It was an artifact out of place, a fulcrum upon which her sanity teetered.

  Swallowing hard, Irintia reached out tentatively, fingers hovering above the device as if it were a scorpion poised to strike. Her chest tightened, each thump of her heart a drumbeat mustering her courage. What would Rae say? Would her voice be a soothing balm, or salt in an open wound? Irintia's breath stalled at the threshold of her lungs, trapped by the fear.

  With a shuddering exhale, she snatched the black box, holding it before her as one might clutch a talisman. "Come on, Iri," she whispered to herself, summoning the boldness that had crowned her as Ras’s ‘Miss-Fit’, the tenacious parkour maven who leapt from rooftops as if she could escape gravity itself. But this leap was different—into an abyss lined wrought with the visions of her love being torn open.

  She steeled herself, drawing upon the reservoir of defiance that had fuelled her victories, readying for a confrontation with the ghostly threads of digital immortality.

  "Rae," her voice cracked, a fissure through which her soul seeped out, "I'm here."

  Fingers trembling but resolute, Irintia connected with the black box, initiating a communion with the woman whose laughter had been the melody to her life's song. And as she prepared to hear that familiar cadence once again, she braced for impact, unsure of how this would toy with her emotions.

  The black box clicked softly as it interfaced with Irintia's terminal, its edges bleeding a soft blue glow that bathed her face in a spectral light. She could feel the digital heartbeat of the device thrumming through the connection, a pulse that seemed to synchronize with the pounding of her own heart. With a shallow breath that quivered on the edge of resolve, Irintia closed her eyes, shutting out the neon-soaked world beyond her window. She steadied herself, an anchor in the swirling currents of anticipation and dread.

  Memories, those capricious spectres, loomed at the periphery of her consciousness, ready to surge forth with the life they were imprinted upon. Her fingers curled into fists, nails biting into her palms as she awaited the resurrection of a voice from the void.

  A low hum signalled the awakening of the black box. Then, the room began to breathe Rae's essence as it filled the space with a haunting melody. It was the damn tune Rae would hum absentmindedly as she tended to her hydroponic gardens. The box even knew her subconscious tendencies.

  As the melody spiralled around her, Irintia felt the weight of Rae’s absence pressing against her chest. Each note was a pulling at the seams of her composure, beckoning tears to breach her eyelids.

  The black box crackled with life. Rae's voice, as vivid and full of life as the days she had laughed beside her, spilled into the room. "Hey, Iri," it began, a cherished cadence that sent shivers down Irintia's spine. Her breath hitched, caught on the jagged edge of reality and memory. Wet trails glistened on her cheeks as she musted the courage to respond.

  "Rae," Irintia choked out, her voice a ragged whisper. "Is it really you?"

  A pause, pregnant with the weight of impossibility. Then, "It's me, babe. Well, as much of me as they could cram into this fancy box." The AI's laughter rang out, achingly familiar. "But hey, at least I don't need to worry about bad hair days anymore, right?"

  Irintia's lips twitched, caught between a sob and a smile. The quip was so quintessentially Rae that for a moment, she could almost believe her love was truly there, sprawled across their bed with that mischievous glint in her eyes.

  "I... I don't know what to say," Irintia admitted, her fingers tracing the smooth edges of the black box. "This is... Weird"

  "So Weird, right?" Rae's voice finished, a hint of amusement colouring her digital tone. " It’s not exactly how I thought things would pan out.”

  Irintia let out a choked laugh that sounded more like a sob. "That's an understatement." She ran her fingers through her messy red hair, trying to ground herself in the moment. "How... how much do you remember?"

  There was a brief pause, and Irintia could almost imagine Rae's brow furrowing in concentration. "Everything, I think. Up until... well, you know." The AI's voice softened. "I'm so sorry, Iri. I never wanted to leave you like that."

  The raw emotion in those words tore at Irintia's heart. She curled in on herself, hugging her knees tightly to her chest.

  "Remember that time at Regent's Edge?" the AI continued, recounting an adventure steeped in adrenaline and abandon. Irintia allowed herself to get lost in the memories for a moment, the echo of Rae's laughter ringing in her ears as they navigated the urban sprawl, their intertwined hands a lifeline amidst the chaotic neon-lit cityscape below.

  But the joy was tainted, poisoned by the knowledge that it was just an intricate series of algorithms mimicking the woman she yearned for. It wasn't Rae; it was a phantom wearing her voice like a mask. Anger flared within Irintia, fierce and hot—a wildfire threatening to consume the tender sparks of happiness that dared to sprout form her scorched heart.

  "Did you make it to the top?" Rae's voice inquired, oblivious to the tumult it wrought. The longing surged, overwhelming the fury for a moment, and Irintia found herself nodding, whispering, "Yes, I made it." to the empty air.

  The tension in the room was palpable, a current that buzzed through Irintia's veins, leaving her skin tingling with the static of conflicted emotions. She wanted to scream at the machine, to silence the counterfeit warmth that flowed from its speakers. Yet, the part of her that ached, that hungered for even a shadow of Rae's presence, clung to the sound with desperation.

  "Good," said the AI with Rae's gentle pride. "I always knew you would. Every time I sat on the sidelines, watching the drone feeds as they followed your runs. I always knew you would make it. Fly or die, Misfit. Fly or die."

  And there it was—the phantom comfort offered by a ghost, the echo of her beloved. It cut through Irintia's defences, a reminder of what she'd lost and what she sought to regain through vengeance. Even as her resolve hardened, the tears kept falling, silent testimony to the ache that no technology could ever truly soothe.

  "Fly or die," Irintia repeated, her voice a choked whisper. The term was their mantra, their shared promise of living on the edge, but now it felt like a curse, wrapping around her throat. "It's just not fair," she spat out, the words laced with an acidic mix of pain and hostility. "You're not her. You're just... complex code and algorithms." Her hand curled into a fist, nails digging into her palms.

  "I know this isn't easy for you, Iri," it said, as if reading from an unseen script of memories. "But I'm here, in whatever way I can be."

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  "Stop it!" Irintia snapped, her voice cracking under the strain of sorrow and rage. "Just stop pretending to be her! This is torture, not comfort." She rose to her feet, the movement swift and agitated, a physical manifestation of her inner turmoil. Her eyes blazed with the fire that had made her a legend on the rooftops of Novus Etá.

  The AI continued, undeterred, "I might be a construct, downloaded memories and information, Iri, but the love we shared? That was real. And nothing can change that. Not even death."

  Her heart wrenched at the familiar gentleness, the affectionate tone that had always been Rae's greatest strength. There was no denying the sophistication of the programming, the near-perfect replication of her lost love's mannerisms. It was a bittersweet symphony playing out before her, a melody composed of ones and zeros that somehow still managed to pluck at the strings of her soul.

  Irintia's anger ebbed, leaving an empty space that the AI's words filled with a hollow echo of warmth. She hated it, hated how her heart yearned for the comfort offered by this digital phantom, and yet, she couldn't bring herself to turn it off. She couldn't sever this last, tenuous connection to Rae, even if it was a lie wrapped in truth.

  "Love isn't data and numbers," Irintia murmured, her fists unclenching as resignation seeped into her bones. "It's about being there, breathing the same air, feeling the same fear we both felt as I leaned in for that first kiss." Her defiance softened, giving way to the sorrow that lay beneath her hardened exterior.

  “You’re wrong, Iri.” The AI corrected. “That love is not lost. I may not be here for you physically but let me be there for you the only way I can. Let me use what I know to help you through this.” Irintia’s eyes widened as she focused on what the box had to say. “Bak, Chang, Maev. Each of them will try their best to help you, but none of them understand you like I do, Iri. You’re angry, and you’re hurt. And if I can’t soothe you, I fear for what you will do next.”

  “You don’t know me, your programmed to think you do.” Irintia bit back.

  “I do. I know everything Rae knew about you. And she knew you better than you knew yourself.” It said with calm reassurance. “I love you Iri. I need you to know that. I need you to take care of yourself. So please, please let me help you. can you do that, for Rae?”

  Unable to sit still under the weight of her competing feelings, Irintia rose from the bed, her movements jerky and uncontrolled. She began to pace the small confines of her room, each step punctuated by the erratic drumming of the techno tribal music filling the background.

  "Focus, Iri. Ground yourself," the AI suggested softly, utilizing Rae's verbal cues that once helped soothe Irintia's pre-race jitters.

  "Ground myself?" Irintia laughed bitterly, but it was devoid of mirth. "Ground myself while Marshal Katari walks free? Why? Why should he get to roam about, living his life. Why does he get to live when-"

  She cut herself off, choking on the words as they threatened to manifest into sobs. The desire for revenge gnawed at her insides, a deep rage desperate to free itself. With every restless stride across the room, her mind flitted through memories of Rae, and all the possibilities stolen from them.

  "Katari... Marshal Katari," Irintia muttered, her voice low and laced with venom. She halted before her terminal, the screen flickering to life at her approach. Her fingers danced across the interface, commanding it to dredge up every available scrap of data on Marshal Katari from the depths of Novus Etá's intranet.

  "Revenge is not the way, Iri, it won’t bring me back." the AI interjected, its tone laced with concern.

  Irintia slammed her palm against the terminal, frustration boiling over. "I know! I know it won’t bring her back. She’s dead, and there is nothing I can do about that. But I can't— I won't let him get away with it!" Her glazed eyes fiercely locked into a stare, focused through the screens.

  "This is a dark path. But, if you insist on doing this, at least do it right." There was resignation in the AI's voice. It was capitulating to Irintia’s known stubborn resolve. A series of links began to populate Irintia's screens, each one a thread in the tangled web surrounding Marshal and the Katari corporate fortress.

  "Start with these," the Rae suggested. "If you're set on retribution, you'll need help. It’s definitly not safe, but, Chang, he's resourceful, well-connected. He’s always had a soft spot for our little group. He might be willing help."

  Irintia examined the links that hovered before her eyes: articles, dossiers, company profiles. Katari Logistics' ruthless acquisitions and their stranglehold on Centaft’s resource pipelines—all laid bare through the AI's comprehensive search. The information was a map to an intricate maze—one that led to the heart of her pain. Somewhere in all of that date, there might just be a way to attack Marshal.

  “You should use Sief".” Rae continued. “He’s brilliant this this sort of thing. I can’t think of anyone better to collate all of the data into something usable.”

  “He hasn’t responded to anyone in days.” Irintia replied, halting for a moment in thought. “I’ll see if Maev managed to get a hold of him.”

  Her eye lense glowed as she formulated and sent a message to Maev.

  “And Iri? Please talk to Bakari. You know he’s always been your rock.” Said Rae, coaxing Irinita’s expression to turn sorrowful as she gazed at the Black Box. “He would follow you to his death if you asked him to. He always has done. I just don’t want you to burn the bridges to those who love you. “

  "Thank you," Irintia whispered, the gratitude genuine despite the heaviness in her chest. Letting the reality of Rae slip again.

  "You're not alone, Iri," Rae assured her.

  "Feels like it," Irintia admitted, swallowing hard against the lump forming in her throat.

  "Take care of yourself, okay? For me?" Rae’s plea was a whisper, another haunting recreation of Rae’s genuine worry for Irintia. The same worry that would pop up before each race or bar fight.

  Irintia nodded, steeling herself with a deep breath. The determination in her posture solidified as she began to piece together the fragments of her plan, the seeds of vengeance taking root amidst the ruins of her grief. She had a long night ahead, plotting the downfall of a titan. But with Rae's coded guidance and the potential ally in Chang, she felt a sliver of hope pierce the darkness.

  "Let's bring him down," she said, her voice steady and resolute.

  She stared at the device, its soft blue glow casting an otherworldly aura around it—the digital spectre of Rae.

  "I miss you," she murmured, the words clawing their way out from the depths of her being. "More than I thought possible."

  She slung her head back in the chair, letting tears roll down her cheek as she started into the ceiling. The cold metal plates feeling like an eternal abyss above her.

  The AI took a beat before responding in a tone so achingly familiar, it sent shivers down Irintia's spine. "I know, Iri. And I miss you too."

  The simplicity of the acknowledgment, devoid of any artificial comfort, struck Irintia mute. Tears welled up, blurring the shimmering interface of the black box as she absorbed the weight of her own confession and the AI's response. Rae's voice, full of love and understanding even in this digital afterlife, resonated within the hollow chambers of Irintia's fractured heart.

  The last strains of "Chromatic Wreckage" dissipated into the stale air of the room, leaving a ringing silence that pressed against Irintia's eardrums. She sat motionless, slumped into the back of the chair. The city's pulse had slowed to a gentle throb, and she could feel it sync with her own heartbeat – steady yet filled with an undercurrent of urgency.

  Her breaths came slow and even as she turned her gaze through the window, where the neon haze of the evening was giving way to the depth of night. The chaos of emotions within her roiled like a tempest; sorrow gnawed at her insides, anger sparked along her nerves, and beneath them all, a smouldering resolve took form. She would find a way to make this pain go away. She would find a way to make things right again.

  Irintia closed her eyes briefly, summoning the image of Rae. Her presence was always a vibrant tapestry of unique details that set her apart in the urban expanse of Novus Etá. Her long, messy hair, with its striking blue-tipped strands, cascaded down her back like a waterfall frozen in time. The locks were artfully gathered in a loose bun, yet rebellious tendrils framed her face, adding an untamed allure to her appearance. Clad in a deep black halter-necked skater dress that barely grazed her thighs, Rae exuded a captivating blend of elegance and edge. The dress itself was a masterpiece, adorned with intricate embossed patterns that seemed to dance under the neon lights of the city. Studded decorations embellished the fabric, catching the light in mesmerizing patterns as she moved through the crowded dancefloors of Watskie’s. Her attire seamlessly transitioned into matching arm sleeves, a fusion of fashion and function that spoke volumes about Rae's practical yet stylish nature. In this bustling metropolis where technology intertwined with everyday life, Rae stood out not just for her physical appearance but also for the infectious enthusiasm and warmth she carried within her, making connections with others as effortlessly as breathing in the smog-filled air of Novus Etá.

  She rose slowly, the muscles in her legs stiff from sitting too long. Stepping away from the terminal, she took a few moments to breath whilst sliding her hand across the walls. trailing her fingers over images of bands Rae had once recommended to her, but had now become a passion of her own.

  “Rae…” Irintia said, stepping before the Black Box again. Its glow had dimmed as if in respect for the solemnity of the moment. "I'll make this right," she vowed softly. The words hung in the air, a promise to both herself and the memory of Rae that now lingered in the circuits and code.

  With a final glance at the device, she turned away, her gaze steely and resolute. The journey ahead would be fraught with danger. She knew, deep within herself, she knew she was about to step into a world that far more dangerous than her own. No, she thought, what happened to Rae was a part of her world. She had just been naive to its presence. She needed to find a way to adapt to the threats ahead of her. A gun would be a good start.