Hello, all! Here is the next chapter in the story. I am sorry if this doesn't satisfy you, but I wanted to get this chapter out before my outside work becomes too busy. Halloween is finished, and the holidays are rapidly approaching.

Just so you know, this chapter has mention of more custom characters created by Myyddraal. Again, I am using these characters with their permission.

Here is the Japanese - English names for the chapter.

Rex Godwin = Rex Goodwin

DISCLAIMER: The author does not own the 'Yugioh!' TCG, or the 'Android Netrunner' LCG, or any related material to them. The author does own their OC's, and other custom content used in their stories.

Onward to the Chapter.

I snap out of my thoughts when the cruiser comes to a sudden stop. I sit still and try to look through the small windows on the back door. The mesh makes it very hard to define anything outside, but the door opens a second later to provide me some glimpse. It also brings in a burst of cold air that slaps me across the face. Two officers grab me roughly and pull me outside the vehicle. I catch sights of other cruisers nearby, all parked into organized rows. Artificial lights shine on the ceiling, or perhaps the top of an underground parking lot.

The officers slap a pair of handcuffs around my wrists, and then roughly pat me down. They take my Deck, Duel Disk, custom glasses, and everything in my pockets from me. I reach to get them back, but stop when I see one officer draw a taser from a pocket and lets me see it. Blue electricity arcs between the two conductive tips, and I get the message; do anything bad, and you'll get shocked. Speaking of 'shocked', these two guards aren't shocked, or even surprised, by my cybernetic eye.

I consider my chances at fighting my way free from these two. I could find an open door after I kicked these two out. Or, I could hijack one of the vehicles; my implant may have some tips on how to do that. If nothing else, I can at least show these police that I'm not a common criminal. Nothing stops the Netrunner, right?

I get an answer from my implant as the officers push me towards a plain white door: [It is recommended you do not resist arrest. You are unarmed, and these officers have shown they wield weapons capable of severe damage.]

That's not what I wanted to hear. But, it makes sense; I saw the taser one of them carried because he was sending a message. I don't want to them to hurt me, which means I'll have to suck up my pride. I guess that is a better outcome then being tased and then being brought to wherever these two want me to go.

Another officer, clothed just like the first two, stands guard at the door as we approach it. All these helmet-wearing people makes me feel a bit out of place, since I am the only person right now with my face uncovered. The door-guarding officer lets the three of us pass, and then resumes his post again right after. That does not help my suspicions as to where I have wound up.

Inside the door is a long gray hallway, several more white doors along both walls. I try to walk slowly so I can see what these doors might contain, but the officers don't give me the chance. I don't hear anything from beyond the doors, either. We quickly pass through the hall to reach a bland white door with mesh across its glass windows.

One officer jostles past me to a keypad adjacent to the door. He covers the pad with his body as I hear a few blips and beeps. The doors then slide open, and the other officer pushes me forward. He doesn't shove me outright, but I still feel uneasy. What's to say he won't do something worse later on, even if I do provoke him?

I turn my focus away from my surroundings as we pass through more doors. Eventually, the guards direct me to a four-walled cell behind an electronically-controlled door. Said door opens when a guard uses a keycard he pulls out from his coat pocket for a slide-in terminal adjacent to the cell.

"Get some rest," the taser-wielding guard says as the other man shoves me inside. "An investigator will be asking you some questions shortly." With that, they shut the door and leave.

I take a look at the cell, since I don't want to sleep just yet. There isn't much to look at, just a simple bed with a stained sheet and a small toilet bolted to the wall. There are no windows, and the only light comes from a small bulb in the ceiling. Looking right at the bulb hurts both of my eyes and blurs my vision. Maybe I really am tired enough for some sleep?

Yet again, my guidance implant provides me with its advice: [Sleep is a recommended option, given your current fatigue from the prior Duel.]

Oh, right, that Duel. All those questions I didn't have the chance to ask are still there. There's no one else in the cell to talk to, and I doubt those officers from earlier want to chat. They've got jobs to do, and so do I. The only difference is that they aren't the ones stuck in a cell.

I lie on the bed, on top of the sheet, close my eyes, and tuck my hands behind my head. It's been a long day, or night, and I guess some sleep would help in the long run. My questions will probably get answered… eventually.

"Get up."

I slide my eyes open to a rough male voice. Three new guards stand by the bed, their eyes all covered by those carbon-copied helmets. I consider them 'new' because I didn't get enough of a description of the last two guards to make them unique. My brain is frazzled, even though I just slept for some period of time.

"Time for your questioning," the closest guard says. "We'll be escorting you there. Don't cause any trouble for us."

I sit up and go along with the guard's orders. They surround me as I stand off the bed, without getting uncomfortably close to me. We walk out of the cell, and down several lookalike hallways, until we reach another small room. The electronic door opens automatically to reveal a brightly-lit room smaller than my cell. The only furniture here is a low-quality folding chair on either side of a circular brown table.

A man in a faded blue police uniform and a bald spot on the top of his scalp looks up as we enter. The guards guide me to the free chair, and I sit down on my own. The light reveals the wrinkles and stress marks on his face; he's probably as tired as I am right now.

The guards leave us after I sit down. The suited man doesn't say a word to them. Once the door closes, he pulls out a manila-colored folder from his side of the desk. The folder's contents ruffle as he pulls out a few photographs from inside. He puts them on the center of the desk, and I look them over in a few seconds. They each show still photos of the playground that woman and I Dueled in yesterday. The ring of purple fire around the two of us slightly distorts the images inside.

"You participated in a Duel last night that violates standard Neo Domino City law," the suited man states with no major emotion. "I am here to ask you a series of questions regarding what brought this Duel to take place, and what you know about your opponent." He frowns as he then says, "I would appreciate it if you answer honestly, and comply with my demands, Netrunner."

I give a quick, "Yes, Sir," as my gut twists slightly. This guy has probably seen footage of my previous Duels from the Fortune Cup, to know I use that name. The man moves to the first photo in the bunch and asks the first of what I assume will be a series of questions: "What do you remember about how this Duel began?"

I answer him as honestly as I can, going on a bit of a tirade about the woman's approach and statements. The man folds his hands under his chin as I keep talking, and I try to leave nothing out. A part of my subconscious protests being this open to a man who I barely know. It gets stronger when it reminds me that this officer works for a police force that doesn't entirely trust or respect me. But, the greater part of me wants to get out of this place, which means I should just do what these people want.

It soon comes, as an afterthought, to me that my brain seems to repeat its thoughts on different issues quite often. I should probably talk about this with the Superiors, when I get a chance.

The questions eventually end, the officer seemingly satisfied with the answers I gave him. He packs the photos back into the folder they came from as the room's door opens again. More guards come in and guide me out. They quickly take me back to my cell, with no one else passing us by. Once we arrive, they push me back in and close the door, without any words as to what will happen to me next. I purse my lips as I wonder how much longer I'm going to be here.

A stiff sensation in my arms and legs makes me start some stretching routines in the middle of the cell. My guidance implant gives me diagrams and instructions to aid in this exercise, which I greatly appreciate. The tension from sitting down for a long while eventually goes away, and I feel a little bit better.

I lie down on my bed again, close my eyes... and wake up some time later when the door opens again.

Another officer stands in the doorway, this one with thin stubble on his chin. All he says is, "You've got a visitor. Follow me."

I don't question how long it's been, or whether I slept some more just now. I just follow him through the same old hallways, but to a new room. The sign above the door says, "VISITING ROOM".

The room is split in half by a metal wall with several windows. Each window has a metal chair on each side, as well as a small handhold phone by each chair. Metal partitions separate the windows from each other. The guard directs me to the third window from the door, and I quickly take a seat.

A large, stocky man is on the other side of the glass, seated in the same simple chair I am. He looks middle-aged or older, or that might just be how wrinkled his skin looks under these artificial lights. His golden eyes have their own brightness, though. His short hair, groomed mustache, and grey beard don't look very aged, but this room's bland colors bring out his physical descriptions to me. My guidance implant records what it sees in his face, and then moves to what he wears.

He has a dark-gray tuxedo with a white undershirt, and a scarlet tie. The clothing looks straight out of a formal event, like that 'Road to the King' movie premiere that Andromeda said she went to. The top end of a black walking cane leans against his side of the window, a glittering jewel acting as a handhold for its owner to grip.

The man picks up the handheld phone on his side of the glass, and I mimic his movements on my side. The phone feels a bit cold against my cheek, and I try to ignore the sensation as I wait for the man to talk.

"Good morning, Netrunner," he begins with a tone I register as 'somber' and 'focused'. "My name is Arias X. Palus."

Palus. This name brings back what Andromeda had said about the 'Palus' family. I also momentarily flash back to the Duelist Michael Z. Palus, who I saw in the Fortune Cup. Is this man the head of that family, or another member? Does he have any relation to Michael?

"You may not have heard of me," he continues. "I understand that. Recent events have kept your attention away from my family's arrival into this city. But, I am here to ask you a few important questions. If you are not willing to answer me, please say so now."

I remain silent. He nods at my consent before asking, "Do you know my daughter, Elizabeth Y. Palus?"

I shake my head. He frowns, and then reaches into his coat pocket. He pulls out a clipping from some newspaper, carefully cut out from a larger page. I can tell it's a clipping from the snippet of a headline on the clipping's back end. He flips the clipping around, and shows me a blurred picture of my Duel with that woman from last night.

"Then," he asks with an accusatory point at my photographed face, "why are you Dueling her in this photo? This is clearly your face, isn't it?"

Oh. Oh.

I feel my face burn up. I scrunch in my chair, unable to form any counterargument to this man's evidence. I saw someone with their phone out during that Duel – I should have known there would be pictures taken. I guess I didn't expect that evidence to come back to me in this way.

"Sir," I carefully say, "I did not know that wo – Elizabeth – was your daughter when I Dueled her." I let that sink in before I add, "I don't think she was completely herself at the time."

"I agree." I blink as Arias puts the clipping back from where he drew it out. "She is usually more refined in her actions than this article's description."

"Is she alright?" I ask as I feel my blush linger on my cheeks. "I don't mean to press, but I want to make sure the Duel didn't really hurt her."

"I visited her before I came here. She is conscious, and recovering, in Neo Domino General Hospital. She also has no memory of her Duel against you."

"That's good. I mean," I quickly correct before Arias can say anything, "the fact she isn't hurt is good. Not the fact she doesn't remember our Duel."

"I know what you mean." Arias's voice opposes mine in emotional investment. Where I'm stumbling and sliding, he maintains a flat tone all the way through. He must be experienced in things like this.

"I sense you do not fully trust me," Arias states as I stay silent. "That's a plight we both suffer. The people in this city, the advanced Neo Domino, only see the 'Dueling Terrorist' side of you. This side is the one social media has let spread over the Web. People fear you for who you are.

"I do not hold myself to these base limitations. Unfortunately, due to my position as head of the Palus family, people only think of me in that way. No one outside of my family really knows who I am, just as no one outside of your 'Collective' knows who you are."

I frown. "You know about the Collective?"

"I did my research, is all. I am certain the Collective you serve do not want to see you behind bars. They are your family, and they care for you… just as someone you know is a part of mine."

What is he talking about?

"Do you remember Michael Z. Palus? The 'Kelolon Commander' from the Fortune Cup Tournament?"

"I do." My guidance implant provides me a quick display of pictures from that Duel. "He Dueled Maxx the Punk Rocker, and then Yusei Fudo. Why?"

Arias closes his eyes as several stress lines grow on his forehead. The next words he says are full of pained emotion: "He used to be a part of my family; my son."

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. I did not expect to hear him make that connection.

"I cannot tell you any more right now. This is a personal matter. I will say, however, that Elizabeth is searching for Michael herself. That is why she first came to this city, and why she spoke to you beforehand."

"So, she told you about that, too." I say with a small sigh.

"Of course. As the head of the Palus family, I should know what my fellow members are doing with their lives. I care about them because I want to keep them safe. Your Collective must act the same way, to regard you as one of their agents."

I don't ask how Arias knows about that. There's already a wealth of information that's been revealed about them. Some of it involves me, some of it doesn't. If Arias has done his research, then he knows enough about The Collective to get by. I certainly do not want to betray any of The Collective's goals.

"As I said before," he continues, "Michael is a part of my family. I do not want him to get hurt, but he has been on his own for quite some time. I am worried about his health and wellbeing."

"Last I heard of him, he was a D-Wheel mechanic here. He seemed to like his job. That was before the Fortune Cup, though. I haven't seen him since."

"Any information you can give is worth it to me, Netrunner." I look Arias in the eyes, and don't see anything that would suggest he's lying.

"Visiting time's up, Mr. Palus," a guard on Arias's side I didn't see when I came in announces as he steps over to us. He raises a thumb to the door on his side of the window as he then says, "You need to leave."

Arias nods, but he continues to talk to me: "If we meet again, I'd like to continue this conversation further. Also, if you ever find Michael, tell him he is always welcome back home."

I nod to Arias as he places the phone back in its place on his end. I put my phone back before I get up from my chair. The same guard that brought me here comes to bring me back to my cell. He walks me back at a brisk pace, and I don't try to read his expression. I try to find something around me to focus on, but come up with nothing. Am I in a specific area of this place, like where the prisoners are kept?

I expect my guidance implant to give me an answer to that. It doesn't respond. That concerns me as the guard pushes me back into my cell. He shuts the door a moment later, and I sit down on the bed. I need some more time to think about what's happened.

Why is Michael's father here? Did Michael have some sort of fallout with his family? Does his sister, Elizabeth, want something different than Arias, which is why she came on her own? Is Michael even in Satellite anymore, or has he moved on? All these disasters, and the 'Dark Signer' threat, are making this city a bad place to live. He would probably be better off as a mechanic somewhere—

Aaagh! My arm! It's hurting again!

I pull back the right sleeve of my coat and look at the arm below. That red eye, the 'false Signer' mark is back. It throbs with pain, and something else as well. Understanding flows into my brain as the moments pass by. The mark actually tells me why it's acting this way.

It's Yusei Fudo. He's in a Riding Duel against a 'Dark Signer'. A real one, in Satellite! Then, what Elizabeth said in the Duel was true! The power they wield is as strong as a giant! No, wait, their power is coming from an actual giant. How is that possible?

At that moment, the cell door opens again. I squeak in surprise and cover my mark with my hand. Another guard, a female one, strides into the cell. She grabs my hand and pulls it away. I stare at a clear patch of skin with her. Where did the mark go, and why did it tell me Yusei was in danger?

The officer huffs out a breath as she stands up again. She then gives me a quick order: "Come with me. Don't try anything funny."

I look at her clenched fists and comply. She brings me down several more lookalike hallways, until we reach a pair of thick metal doors. A sign above them reads, "RECEPTION". We pass through them, and enter an open room that leads to the outside world.

Two more officers, armed with high-caliber guns, stand on opposite ends of the doors. That rules out the option of making an escape. Even so, I don't have any of my personal belongings with me. Going outside exposed like this would be a terrible idea.

The officer points to one side on a curved counter. I move over there, and she runs back through the door. She comes out on the other side of the counter a second later, with a large box in her hands. A peek inside the open lid shows the box has all my stuff in it.

"What's going on?" I ask her. "Why is my stuff –?"

"These are your personal belongings, then?" The officer cuts me off, and I slip up on my words for a second.

"Yes, they are," I finally get out. "But, how does this—?"

"They are being returned to you." The woman trails on through my question. "You are being released because your bail has been paid. You will be on probation watch for the next 120 days. If you are arrested again during this period, you will be incarcerated for a minimum of 6 months with no second bail opportunity. Do you understand these terms?"

"I do." I can't think of anything better to say.

She gives me the box with a hard glare and the words "Cause no trouble."

I quickly sort through the items, and pull each bit out. I don't care that the officer is getting a peek at these things, I want to make sure they're alright. Each item gets a look-over before I slip it on me, or in a pocket. It only takes a few minutes for me to check everything over, and there are no problems.

I give the officer a bow and the words, "Thank you very much." She sighs in response, and I walk to the front doors. The outside sky is gray, but that doesn't discourage me. The officers at the door let me pass through, but I can't see their eyes beneath their helmet visors. I do see one of them clench a fist as I pass by.

I step through the front doors… into a torrent of rain.

The weather dampens my mood, but doesn't completely diminish it. I don't have any sort of umbrella, or raincoat, to protect my clothes from the water. I do get the bright idea to slip my cards into my coat's pockets, to keep them a bit safer from water damage. I don't think soaked cards will register correctly in Solid Vision.

[Water damage is a hazard for Duel Monsters cards] my implant informs me. [Any extra defense you have against them would greatly increase their longevity.]

I dash across a nearby crosswalk when the light tells people to do so, and skirt past a few people with open umbrellas. They all move quickly, and don't slow down as I pass them by. They must want to be dry as much as I do. I get to the nearest alleyway after a few frantic seconds of searching for an isolated spot. An awning placed about a story up from the ground provides a dry space for me. My Disk is a bit wet, but not damaged, when I look it over. I then pat my pockets, but stop myself from touching them with wet hands.

I stop when I see a flashing red light on my Disk's central display. I remember that light; it's for when someone's sent me a message. I guess I have some time to check it out, since I'm in a dry location.

I press the flashing light, and the message appears on a holographic screen. I read the words carefully. It takes me only one sentence to realize this is from the Masque…

"Netrunner,

I see you've been released from Sector Security's grip. Not a moment too soon, I'm sorry to say. Make sure no one is nearby when you read this."

Well, no one is in this alleyway, so I'm good. I continue on.

"I've kept an eye on you through your Duel Disk's unique broadcasting signal. I also protected it from being hacked, or tampered with, while you were incarcerated in solitary confinement. They tried to put a tracking signal on the Disk as part of your probation policy. Their programmers are smart, for humans, but compared to me they're amateurs. No offense to your species, of course."

I roll my eyes at the Masque's snarky remarks. This might be a side effect of her studies about human emotions, or just her being cheeky with her Network freedom. I continue after I notice a mangy white cat pop out from inside a nearby turned-over trash can.

"Being a digital avatar has its advantages, but not for what you have to deal with next. You'll learn more when you join the group chat the Superiors have set up. I'll repeat that for you: The Collective is having a group chat. They've kept the reason for it to themselves, but I know other agents are "on hold" until everyone has arrived. The chat will be on a private frequency, and you can use your Disk's holographic projector like a video screen. I don't know whether you're the last one to join or not, so make sure you're in a safe place when you log in.

Speaking of safe, you don't have that privilege anymore. Social media has gone crazy over your Duel last night. I have identified your opponent from her scanned photo ID as 'Elizabeth Y. Palus'. Pictures and video of the match have already circulated the Network, and people are saying your so-called "return" is another sign that Neo Domino City is in danger. Consequently, you are in danger from these people's anger. They call you a "Dueling Terrorist", something Director Godwin spit out back before the Fortune Cup began.

My advice: get out of Neo Domino City, or at least the public areas, until your connections to the city's safety blow over. Residents in the Daimon Area are just as angry about all this as people in The Tops. Some of them think you are a cause of the devastation; if they catch you, you'll be in for a rough time.

I can't do anything big from here in the Network, so you will have to trust your allies in meatspace. Again, I advise you get out of Neo Domino, somehow. The Superiors are probably concocting an idea now, if they have seen the same things I have.

Watch your back. Stay safe. The war isn't over yet."

I look up from the message with a lump in my throat. Things just got a lot worse for me. But, maybe this 'joint chat' the Superiors have set up will get me some answers. It may even help with Yusei's situation…

I look to the skies again; there's nothing beyond the clouds and rain. I then look to where that mark has always appeared; it's not there. I can't sense it at all. It hasn't been very reliable as of late, and this latest appearance makes it more of an irritant than a help.

But, that's not my big concern right now. The Superiors, my 'family', are waiting for me on the joint chat. If what the Masque said is true, then I just need to connect to their call. How do I do that?

My implant instantly provides the answer: [Your Disk's broadcast signal must be located by the Superiors. Displaying sequence now…]

The buttons on my Disk flash in a pattern, and then repeat over and over again. My fingers press them in that order after three repetitions. The message window closes, and a collection of screens appears in front of me. The screens have the faces of Andromeda, Kate, Edward, each of the Superiors, and Nero Severn. Chaos Theory and Quetzal's faces don't pop up, even after a few seconds pass.

I shiver as my right arm pulses slightly. Something must have gone seriously wrong for this chat to take place.

"Thank you all for agreeing to this joint chat," Bordeau begins. "A situation has come up that requires the Collective, as a whole, to take action."

Williams explains the situation: "Agents Chaos Theory and Quetzal, both of whom were assigned to Satellite at our last full meeting, have gone off the grid. The 'grid' we are referring to connects to consistent reports of their activities in Satellite, in connection to the Dark Signer cult."

Wu adds some extra details before any of us can respond: "Chaos Theory and Quetzal were given transmitter devices before they departed for Satellite. The devices were created by us, and are linked to our systems. They were instructed to report back to us with their findings every 4 hours, even if just a few words. It has been 10 hours since their last report."

"This doesn't seem like a serious problem." This comes from Nero, along with a glare to whatever camera he is using to participate in this chat. "They could just be in a dangerous situation, unable to report because of their safety."

"We suspected this, at first," Wu responds. "However, their transmitters stopped broadcasting signals 3 hours ago. Those devices are programmed to function in almost any environment, including low-power ones such as Satellite. They should not have stopped broadcasting if there wasn't any electrical source, or wireless connection, around."

"Couldn't they have just turned them off?" Andromeda asks with a finger to her lips. "If they showed the devices didn't work, they wouldn't be of any value to people there."

"That is highly unlikely," Williams answers, "because they do not know how to turn them off. We had planned for them to give the devices back to us once their assignments were completed, or they returned to the City for another reason."

"I don't think the City is a good place to return to," I cut in. "From what I've heard, and seen, the people here are getting really upset about these disasters."

"That is social media talking," Wu sharply clarifies. "People are on emotional highs at the moment, and do not always say what they mean. We cannot trust everything we read online."

"You haven't been to the local bars, then," Kate accuses the Superiors with a huff. "Everyone I talk to for your "recruiting drive" is genuinely concerned if they will see the next sunrise. This is not the time to ignore people's words."

"Kate, darling," Andromeda says as she shakes her head, "no more of this underprivileged banter, please. The last meeting was enough."

"Oh, you want to shut me up? Are you too happy sipping your vodka-martinis from a high-rise balcony, twenty stories above the chaos?!"

"No, I was just thinking—"

"Thinking! You haven't been 'thinking' about anything more than the next paycheck from your photo shoot, or designer contract. Hell, your damn robot maid probably needs a new battery as well!"

"Shut it!" Edward roars to both women as Andromeda savagely glares at her screen. "We need to get back on topic."

"Fine." Kate turns to the discussion back to the Superiors with the question, "Why are you telling us all this? I thought us agents were only told what was important to just us, and no one else."

"That is normally the case," Wu clarifies. "However, the situation with these agents involves the Collective as a whole, due to what is at stake. Two of our agents, fellow believers in our cause, are in a dangerous location. We do not know what is happening to them, or what they have done. There are many possibilities, but the only way to know for sure is to investigate ourselves."

"How will the Collective be maintained if we all go to Satellite?" Nero asks, stating the obvious. "We all have our assigned duties; changing them so suddenly would throw the entire system into disarray."

The Superiors each glance away from their screens. Maybe they are all in the same room, looking at each other? That makes sense, since their minds are literally linked to each other.

"We will admit," Williams then says with a downcast expression, "that this is uncharted territory for us. We expected this would happen, but we have not had agents go off the grid like this before. The Netrunner's disappearance after the Fortune Cup was a similar circumstance, but he was one agent compared to two here."

Anger simmers in my chest as every agent gives me, or probably my screen, an apologetic glance. I try to hold back from saying the insulting comment that comes to mind. Do the Superiors not really care about me, now that I'm back in their fold?

"This is our current agenda," Wu continues as I hear Kate take in a breath to speak out. "All available agents who can participate will be assigned separate sectors of Satellite to scout. Each agent will be given a transmission device like the ones Chaos Theory and Quetzal had, as well as a tracking signal tied to the missing agent's devices. Any clues discovered are to be immediately informed to as many of us as possible.

"All agents who are able to participate in this endeavor, please state so now."

No one speaks up. Everyone's eyes look to other screens. Raindrops pound on the awning above me, echoes of my thoughts and concerns to my fellow agents. Someone has to make a choice, or Chaos Theory and Quetzal will be lost to Satellite's problems. But, Nero Severn is right in saying each of these agents have their own assignments in Neo Domino. To leave them now would be putting it all at risk.

I don't have those problems, I realize. I am the Collective's Duel Monsters representative. Duel Monsters can happen just about anywhere that Solid Vision can be manifested. Location, time, participants, they all don't matter for the sake of Dueling.

No one is saying anything, but I suspect everyone wants me to go. Since I have my own reasons for going to Satellite, I guess I can oblige them.

"I will go to Satellite."

Everyone looks to my screen after I say this. No one smiles, or offers happy words, at my decision. Did they know I was going to say that?

"Very well," Bordeaux says with a nod shared by the other Superiors. "Return to base immediately, and we will supply you with the necessary equipment for this endeavor." He looks to the other screens as he then says, "The rest of you may return to your assignments. Inform us of any changes, or situations, you encounter. May you all run the Net freely."

No one returns the comment, and the screens shut off at the same time. I lower my Disk to my side and lean back against the alleyway wall. Distrust bubbles with a sense of loss against the Superiors for regarding me as less of a concern than these two agent's disappearance. I had gone 'off the grid', too, it just turned out that the Arcadia Movement had me in their clutches. Are the Dark Signers that worse of a threat?

I can't shake the feeling that I am being dropped into a situation too dangerous for me. Then again, when has that not been the case since I was born in a test tube?

What matters right now is getting to the Collective base in all this rain…

Alright, that's all for now. We'll have to see what Samuel's choice will lead to.

As usual, all reviews/comments/constructive criticism is well appreciated. The next chapter will come out when it is ready; I'm not sure when that will be (which I guess you all expected).

Draconos is taking off.