The city did not sleep, but it held its breath. Zeta moved through the shadows of the industrial district, his senses dialed to a dangerous frequency. He knew he was being watched. Miller’s betrayal had been the catalyst for a chain reaction he could no longer stall. Behind him, the rhythmic, heavy clanking of security patrols echoed against the damp brick walls. They were tracking him. They were closing in. He kept his head low, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird, his mind constantly calculating the distance between his position and the nearest patrol unit.
As he turned into a narrow alleyway, the sharp, acidic smell of waste hit his nostrils. It was the scent of the city’s underbelly, the place where all the discarded tech and chemical runoff pooled. He stopped a
