but tonight, it wasn’t awake either.
The city hummed like a dying neon sign, flickering between life and blackout. Smog rolled over the skyline like a second skin, hiding the stars above and the poison it pumped into the millions below. The Shinjuku megablocks towered like monoliths—concrete, steel, augmented glass, and enough hidden guns to arm a small nation.
Carina Chavel walked among them, hood up, purple eyes glowing faintly under the storm of electric advertisements. Her boots splashed through the neon reflections on the soaked pavement. Rain dripped from the wires overhead, pattering like static over her Kiroshi optics.
Twenty-two.
Ex-runner.
Ex-merc.
Now… something in-between.
Her pistol sat holstered under her jacket, half-concealed by fabric and half-outlined by the subdermal armor plating beneath her skin. The shotgun was strapped to her back, disguised in a collapsible case that only a fool or a corpo would mistake for musical equipment. And the grenade? That was always within reach—usually taped inside her coat like a reassuring secret.
A runner didn’t get cyberware like hers unless they’d survived things others didn’t walk away from.
But what mattered tonight wasn’t her past.
It was the message glowing on her holo-wrist, pulsing with every step she took:
JOB: “NEON HOLLOW” LOCATION: TOKYO WARD 9 — OLD MEGATOWER 17 CONTACT: UNKNOWN PAYMENT: 40,000￥ upfront / 60,000￥ on completion OBJECTIVE: RETRIEVE “MOTH RELIC”
“No witnesses.”**
Carina sighed through her teeth.
“Corpos and their creepy antique names…”
Ward 9.
Megatower 17.
That place was practically condemned.
Half the gangs in Tokyo avoided it out of superstition alone.
Which meant something powerful wanted something hidden there—and wanted her to get it.
Walking into an abandoned megatower for a mysterious client…
It felt like a setup.
But 100,000 yen bought a lot of problems away.
And it bought her time.
Time she desperately needed.
Carina dipped into a narrow alley behind a street ramen stall, pushing through the greasy steam clouds billowing from the vent. Old men slurped noodles beside her, never looking up. Shadowed figures traded unregistered augments from crates. A turret mounted on the wall scanned passersby, red targeting lens blinking lazily.
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The Ghost Market wasn’t its real name.
But people knew the rules here.
No questions.
No authority.
No one cared what you came to buy or hide.
Carina moved toward a stall lit with cyber-green lights. A thin man with too many piercings leaned over his workbench, polishing a severed cyberarm.
“Yo,” he grinned, gold teeth glinting. “Carina Chavel. Haven’t seen you since the Shinagawa blackout job. You alive or what?”
“Unfortunately,” she muttered. She lowered her hood. “Need a ram booster patch. Quick one. Must survive a potential shootout.”
“Potential?” He cackled. “Girl, with you it’s always guaranteed.”
He slid a small injector device across the table. Blue fluid sloshed inside.
“On the house. Consider it payment for the stories you keep me entertained with.”
Carina eyed him. “Since when do you give freebies?”
“Since a lot of people want you dead,” he said with a wink. “Makes you good for business.”
“Thanks,” she said flatly, pocketing it.
She stepped deeper into the market, toward the exit tunnel that led to the taxi lanes, when her holo-wrist cracked with static and an artificial voice bled through:
“Carina Chavel?”
She didn’t recognize the timbre. Synth-filtered.
Someone hiding themselves.
“Depends,” she said. “If you’re selling life insurance, I’m not interested.”
“Job parameters remain unchanged. You are en route to Megatower 17?”
“Was planning on it.”
“Good. Time is limited. We require efficiency.”
“Then you should’ve hired a drone.”
There was a pause—a digital hum like someone processing annoyance.
“…Retrieve the Moth Relic. Deliver to the location we will send upon extraction. Payment will be instant.”
“Care to tell me what it is?”
“No.”
Carina rolled her eyes. “Of course not.”
“…And Carina?”
She stopped.
“Yeah?”
“If anyone else reaches it—kill them.”
The call cut.
No trace.
No signature.
She exhaled slowly.
“Great,” she murmured. “Definitely a setup.”
But there was a weight in her chest she couldn’t ignore.
Not fear.
Not hesitation.
Something older.
Something that made her jaw twitch the way it did whenever someone tried to make her a pawn.
She hated being used.
Which meant if this client was setting her up…
She’d make sure they regretted it.
Carina surfaced from the undercity into the midnight air. Taxis roared overhead on sky rails, neon signs flickering on the sides of buildings high enough to cut clouds. The air tasted like electricity and old rain. Tokyo always smelled like a dystopia that didn’t know it was one.
A bullet train screamed across a track suspended between two skyscrapers above her head.
Carina flagged down a ground-level auto-cab. The door slid open automatically.
“Destination?” the soothing robotic voice asked.
“Ward 9. Megatower 17.”
The cab paused.
WARNING: DESTINATION FLAGGED AS UNSAFE. ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK.
Carina smirked. “Story of my life.”
The door sealed shut, and the auto-cab sped into the neon labyrinth.
Rain smeared the windows in streaks, turning the city lights into watercolor chaos—pink, purple, blue, gold. Reflections played across Carina’s face. Her purple eyes glowed faintly as her Kiroshi optics scanned the passing streets for hostiles out of habit.
She rubbed her thumb along the grip of her pistol.
100,000 yen. Just get in, grab some ancient toy, get out.
Easy.
Except nothing was easy in Tokyo.
Especially not in Ward 9.
When the cab pulled to a stop, Carina stepped out into a district drowned in darkness. No neon. No traffic. No chatter.
Even the air felt colder.
And Megatower 17 loomed ahead—
a giant, decaying titan wrapped in shadow.
Its windows were shattered rows of teeth.
Its walls were scarred from old fire.
Half of it was under construction and the other half utterly abandoned.
Carina exhaled.
“Let’s get this over with.”
She approached the entrance—
shotgun strapped to her back, pistol holstered at her hip, grenade clipped to her belt.
The giant doors hissed open from inside.
She froze.
No wind.
No sensors.
No power.
The tower had opened itself for her.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Definitely a setup.”
Carina stepped through the doors.
They slammed shut behind her.