The first Synth Blade dropped from the roof like a cybernetic panther, landing silently ten feet behind Zeke.
The second emerged from a holo-billboard of a dancing octopus that was selling life insurance.
The third... walked out of the ramen shop, holding a half-finished bowl.
"Didn't expect a fight," he mumbled, wiping his mouth. "But hey, free lunch."
Zeke froze mid-step, eyes darting between them.
"Okay… uh, guys? We can talk this out. Maybe over some—"
"ELIMINATE." The first Blade lunged.
Zeke screamed in the general direction of self-preservation.
Tess grabbed his collar, yanked him backward into an alley as a katana split the air where his head had been.
"What did you do, Zeke?!" she shouted, ducking behind a dumpster that smelled like expired dreams and overcooked rice.
"I hacked a soda machine!" he shouted back.
"That's not a war crime!"
"It was a corporate-owned soda machine!"
"Actually," Nyx interjected mid-sprint, "you accidentally accessed the same subnet used by the Syndicate's finance server. Which was… poorly labeled."
"You're telling me I crashed a crime empire's bank account… by trying to get a free root beer?!"
"Yes. Also, you overdrafted them by 42 million credits."
"…Do I get points for style?"
"Negative."
...
Across the street, the Synth Blades were recalibrating.
"Ghost is faster than anticipated," said one.
"Or just lucky," said another.
The third, still chewing noodles, shrugged. "I like him. He's like a confused puppy made of bad decisions."
"Focus," snapped the leader. "Target is heading toward the undercity. Prepare for phase two."
...
Zeke, meanwhile, was already regretting everything.
They sprinted through a half-collapsed tunnel, flickering signs above reading:
"WELCOME TO LOWER SECTOR 12 – NO REFUNDS"
"I think we lost them," Tess gasped.
Zeke doubled over, panting. "Tell my corpse… I tried my best…"
"You've never exercised in your life, have you?"
"I once ran from a Roomba with a knife."
"…I hate how I believe you."
"Guys," Nyx warned, "They're tracking us via scent particles. One of them licked your ramen bowl."
Zeke stared blankly. "WHAT KIND OF PSYCHO—?!"
A synth-blade slammed down from a broken ceiling tile.
Zeke flailed. "I WILL PAY FOR THE RAMEN I SWEAR!"
...
In the chaos that followed, Zeke tripped over a cable, fell headfirst into a wall-mounted port, and—
Connected.
Digitized.
His vision exploded into data streams. His body flickered, consciousness suspended in glowing light.
A voice echoed.
"Welcome, unauthorized user… Accessing restricted sector…"
"Oh no," Nyx whispered. "He just jacked into the Black Grid."
"What's the Black Grid?" Tess shouted, pulling wires trying to unplug him.
"A digital wasteland full of dead code, outlawed AI, and… wait… oh no."
"What now?!"
"He just got admin privileges."
Zeke's body spasmed.
"AND HE'S TYPING."