There is only one place safe for me, and it's the place all wanted criminals and individuals go. Inside the Market Tavern, I spot someone who might be able to help me.

Rivya sits alone at one of the central tables. She smiles as I approach.

"Aurablade."

"Rivya." I sit across from her.

"Thanks for the gold."

"I have some information worth far more than that." Rivya quirks an eyebrow, and I slide a pod across the table, microchip already loaded inside.

Her slender fingers brush the surface of the screen, her eyebrows drawing together. The crease deepens between them, her finger scrolling faster. Finally, she looks up.

"A plot... to eliminate the Elyminai?"

"And take over the city," I add. "It's a multi-stage plan, one that will take years until Argon can seize total control over the city. For now, he must eradicate the single greatest threat to his governing power: us, the rogue criminals. He's creating a force of cyborgs to infiltrate all sectors, from businesses to private homes, rooting out all illicit activity."

"So he can tighten up control and commit his own criminal acts to further Gang One, not fearing retribution from smaller actors." Rivya blinks away her daze, a trace of a smile edging her lips. "Well, we're not going out without a fight."

A fight to continue malicious deeds. A fight of criminals against the government.

Is this really the side I should be fighting for?

It is now. I chose to be an Elyminai, even if my intentions were initially to simply see my sister more often in the underworld. And now, I am a target. I must pay the price.

"Do you ever... want out?" I ask. Rivya cocks her head. "You know, out of this business? Go straight?"

Rivya smiles. "Do you?"

I swallow. "Yes. I want a normal life. Being an Elyminai was only supposed to be temporary, a way to..." I trail off. Rivya may not be as malicious as the other Links and Elyminai, but I don't want to strip away all the walls I've built.

"Make ends meet?" Rivya nods. "It's tough out there indeed."

"Indeed." The buzz of other conversations slips between us. Rivya downs the final drops of her drink. "What are the odds of getting out?"

"With Gang One's new plan, none."

I nod. Once an assassin, always a threat.

"But if they were stopped..." Rivya's eyes glitter in the dim light. "I know what you're thinking. We're criminals. Maybe we all should be stopped. But Argon's plan goes beyond rooting out us smaller actors. It's a way to control private citizens, create a mind-controlled army that has no choice but to follow his whims. Is that method better than ours? How long until they turn in anyone who opposes Gang One? How long until he eliminates anyone who stands in his way of total power?"

I nod, my gaze trained on the side of the table.

"I'll make sure you disappear afterward," Rivya says. "If that's what you want. But we both know that Argon's plans must be stopped."

A smile tugs at my lips. "I know." And as hypocritical as it feels to stop Argon, a sudden thought occurs to me. If not for Argon and his false promises to Stellae, she would still be here. I wouldn't have been driven to this point in which I kill just for a trip to see her again. How many other families has he torn apart, taking captive their loved ones' minds? How many more will he destroy?

The city needs to know of Argon's deeds. They must be warned.

***

There are two broadcasting centers in the city, one for each gang. Gang One's is a skinny tower that shoots up to the sky, high above the pedestrians and subway tunnels weaving between buildings and platforms. Beside it, a rectangular building seems to cower in its presence, leaving a small alley's length of distance between it and the broadcasting tower. That's where I wait among the shadows.

As the sun rises over the city, natural light mixing with the neon, artificial lights, I spot a woman hurrying into the control station. Tera Fenner heads up the broadcasts, checking all messages before they are displayed on air. I lift a small blade, hurling it toward her, but not close enough to actually cut her. It whizzes by her side, and she glances after it, then in my direction. I keep my front pressed to the wall, while my reflective cloak mimics the texture and color of the brick wall of the building next door. With her brow creased, the woman steps toward me.

The gap gets closer. My breathing steadies into a measured rhythm. Then, when she's only a few meters away, I leap out from my hiding spot. I wrap my arm around her neck and drag her into the alley, bringing the hilt of my dagger down on the base of her skull. She crumples to the grimy, trash-ridden ground.

Rivya appears from the shadows. Her face already resembles Tera's. We made the impression last night, spending hours scrutinizing her appearance while crafting details on a mask. As it turns out, Rivya used to be an Elyminai who specialized in impersonations.

I toss Tera's blazer to Rivya. She puts it on, then pats the pockets down, returning a moment later with an ID card between her fingers.

"We're in," she says, grinning.

I remove my outer cloak, stuffing it behind a trash can. Underneath, I wear a blazer a size too long that I borrowed from Rivya. It hangs down around my black jumpsuit in a less-than professional way, but it will do.

Rivya and I walk to the front. At the door, Rivya presents her ID, and the doors unlock for us.

We slip quietly through the halls. Only a few employees slouch to their desks, downing cups of coffee or energy drinks on the way. Rivya and I hurry up a back stairwell, stopping only when we reach the top floor. It's essentially one large control room, with screens covering three of the four walls. Keyboards and control panels line the walls below. Rivya and I set to work on hacking into the system.

Once in, we remove a segment of the eight o'clock morning program, which is the most highly watched segment of the news. Instead, we insert the recording we made last night, featuring a powerpoint and a voice over. Rivya clicks several things to solidify the new programming and adjust the places where it is broadcasted, then motions for us to leave.

The only thing left is to wait for it to begin. Rivya and I make a speedy, and unchallenged, exit.

We just make it outside when the billboards surrounding the city light up.

"Good morning, citizens of Cyber City 354431. This insider report details a plot to undermine the city's political stability and threatens the rights of everyone living here. Two years ago, Gang One launched a company known as 'The CryoFuture,' an organization that seeked to advance science and push the boundaries of human life by freezing people in an antechamber, enabling humans to wake up in a futuristic era and continue living their lives. The procedure was claimed to have already undergone successful testing, and they were ready to take on their first round of participants, who would be frozen for ten years and then brought back into society.

"The response has been overwhelmingly positive. Over five percent of the city's population signed up for the operation. And since launching their groundbreaking science project, their political popularity has increased. Seventy-two percent of the political officials in the city now are affiliated with Gang One.

"However, their claims were false. Their true objective was never to freeze participants and bring them back. Instead, they have been engaging in top-secret lab operations, turning participants into mind-controlled cyborgs to fulfill tasks for Gang One. What you are currently seeing is live footage of a cybernetic operation from inside the CryoFuture's underground labs."

The video cuts to slides of cybernetic operations, inside the human brain with wires hanging out. Other images from inside the facility cycle through. There are no frosted antechambers, only sterile operation and recovery rooms.

"Why go to such lengths for this elaborate scheme? The answer is simple. Gang One wants a way to spy on private citizens and businesses, in addition to having mindless lackeys who carry out their plans without question, without moral compromise. According to Gang One's data, over one-hundred cyborgs have been deployed, and more are being prepared for release.

"You may be confused or horrified by this revelation. But more importantly, we must ask what can be done? Of those surviving the cybernetic surgeries (there was a ninety-percent death rate at the beginning of their tests), they are no longer our loved ones. Their minds belong to Argon and the other heads of Gang One. There is only one thing: revolution. We must force Gang One to step down from their positions of leadership. We must boycott their gang-sponsored businesses. And we must find responsible scientists who can search for ways to underdo those who have been turned into mindless soldiers."

The broadcast ends. Silence emanates from every building, every sidewalk, every street. Even the subways no longer scream along their tracks. There is nothing but stillness.

Then the riots breakout.

Noise erupts from mobs, all clamoring to understand what they have just heard. Some hurl rocks at businesses, shattering windows into tiny shards of glass. Others cry and panic.

From our spot on the street, a group of guards storms from Gang One's broadcasting center. They're headed straight toward us.

"Let's run," Rivya says.

I dart into the crowd after her.