"Are we sure this is a good idea?"

"No. This plan's risk far outweighs any potential benefit."

"You came up with the plan, didn't you?"

"Yes. Because in Caspian's absence I don't trust anyone else to come up with one."

Snow, Rowan, Ichigo, and Moka stood in the lot of Port Cyrreine International, staring down the curved wall of windows from across the street. Behind the glass tulip shell that made up the airport's main building, the oblong body of a Whale-Class airship floated into the sky. Its massive form floated weightlessly for a couple of seconds, before a strip of lights grew from body to wingtip, and another front to back, down its belly. The engines under each wing burst to life, pushing it over the bay.

Moka pressed a finger to the side of her cheek and pursed her lips. "Should we maybe go over that plan one more time? Just to make sure we all have it down?"

"Alright, so the police archives held every surveillance record except this one. I couldn't find it remotely, so I need to get connected directly to their network," Ichigo began. "We gotta get into their surveillance room!"

"Unfortunately," Snow added. "While no one is looking, Rowan will leave a bag filled with old computer parts, batteries, and spare wire next to the arrivals gate, then leave. After some time passes, I'll call to report a suspicious package. Since the airport has lately increased its security, this will likely draw a large presence to the area, and away from the security room. When I call, Ichigo and Moka are to enter the empty security room so Ichigo can begin to download all necessary files. At this time, Moka is to stand watch in the hall outside the security room, as I monitor the situation near our diversion. Once the surveillance record is obtained, we will reconvene with Caspian, and leave as soon as possible."

"Absolutely foolproof," Rowan complimented. He held up a worn-out black duffel with a wire poking through a blowout in its side. "I got the stuff!"

"We're not actually doing anything illegal here, so it should be fine," Ichigo assured.

"Criminal trespassing, data theft," Snow listed. "And if definitively proven we left the bag on purpose, they have grounds to press charges for terrorism."

"So... don't get caught," Moka concluded. "Got it."

Snow sat with her ankles crossed at the floor, flipping absently through a magazine set out in the waiting area. As she looked up to the lanky redhead that approached, her eyes embraced the blue of the sky behind her. "Did you do it?"

Rowan took a sip from the can of soda in his hand. "Yup, my job's done."

"Did anyone see you?"

Rowan shrugged. "There are a lot of people here." He was jarred out of his nonchalance by Snow's icy glare. "I-I mean, I didn't look sketchy, anyway. I just left to get this soda, and then... never came back."

Snow nodded, and another Whale-Class airship took to the sky behind her. "Good. Now leave. It'll be trouble if they identify you as the one who left it."

"Gotcha," Rowan confirmed. "Meet you guys back at campus?"

"16 to all units, we have a Code-300 near the arrivals gate," a concerned voice spoke through the security guard's radio. "All available units to the area."

Ichigo and Moka leaned on both sides of the door to the employees-only hall, looking to each other with matching smirks as the words came through. Without a word, Moka slipped into the hall behind a guard while Ichigo stayed put. He held his laptop in one hand and poked at a few keys with the other, pulling up a black screen with lines of pale text.

Moka slinked down the back hall, pursing her lips as she compared the map Ichigo provided her with the layout of the hallway. White walls, white floor, and white light, so harsh it was almost green. The backrooms held little of the luster shown to the public.

Two security guards burst from the door to the communications room.

Moka hid just above the door frame on all fours, upside down and held to the ceiling by a bolt of gravity dust on each fist. She freed one hand to stop the door just before it closed, and peeked inside.

Empty.

On the far wall, an array of screens flicked between each of the airport's rooms and halls. The old-fashioned, physical kind. To the left, a mess of wires and circuitry. Moka dropped to the floor, and closed the door behind her.

"Ichigo!" she called into her Holoband. "I'm in!"

He was down the hall and in the doorway in no more than ten seconds.

"How long do you think it'll take you?"

"Not sure," Ichigo admitted. "Estimating the file size, maybe ten or fifteen minutes? But I have to get in first, then find the feed from the day I'm looking for, which might be an issue."

Moka grimaced. "Well, do your best. Let's get started!"

Without another second wasted, Ichigo sat his laptop on the table between a pair of monitors, hooked a cord to what he guessed was the main computer, and set to work.

Moka, Ichigo, and Snow remained in position for what felt, to them, like an hour. A crowd began to gather around their diversion, despite security's best attempts to drive them back and disperse them. Eventually, one guard spoke up on a megaphone.

"Security is requesting immediate evacuation of the area. We are going to perform a controlled detonation. Please, back off beyond the perimeter."

"Excuse me, miss," a guard spoke from next to Snow. She set down a metallic disk, and a hard-light pylon sprung up from the base. "This area's within the perimeter."

"Oh, sorry," Snow said with a polite nod. She set her magazine at the table next to her seat, and followed the crowd further away. Her eyes flicked from person to person within the mass of confusion, concern, and curiosity, but she couldn't get a vantage point. She shuffled to the edge until her back was pressed against the wall.

In the back hall, Moka whipped around. Her round eyes met an officer's narrowed ones as he opened the door.

"Excuse me. This area's off limits. What are you doing back here?" he questioned.

"Um- I-" Moka stumbled. Her eyes flicked to the communications room door, and back at the guard. "I think I'm lost," she said with a childlike giggle. "My friend's coming back from his trip, and I was looking for a bathroom before he gets back, but... I don't think I found it, did I?"

The guard's stiff shoulders relaxed. "No, you didn't," he replied with an easy smile. "Go back toward the arrivals gate. You should see a sign for the bathrooms right between the coffee place and the souvenir shop."

"You know, that's what I thought. But I went that way and I just saw a whole lotta people, and a whole lotta security. No idea what's going on, but it looks like something bad's happening!"

"Oh, that's right..." the guard pondered. "There's another on the South end, just outside the departure gate. Head out this door, make a left and keep going straight until you see the sign for departures. Hall to the bathrooms is right underneath it."

"Um, can you take me there?" Moka requested. "As you can probably tell, I get lost easily. Don't wanna end up in some hall with a security guard who isn't quite so nice, you know?"

"Ichigo! How's your progress?" Moka's hushed voice asked through his Holoband.

The magenta glint across his irises blinked out with a shake of his head, and he raised the Holoband to his chin. "I'm in, transferring the files now. About 70% done. All clear still?"

"I'm in the bathroom."

"Why are you in the bathroom?!"

"I ran into a security guard, I had to make up something!" Moka explained. "Get it done as fast as you can, because I think he's coming back your way!"

Ichigo abandoned the call, and his eyes glowed again as he fixated on his screen. Every couple of seconds, he'd look up to the cameras, then back down at his work. "Come on, come on," he grumbled, feverishly tapping his foot as the progress bar grew. "Just a bit more... DONE!"

He threw himself below the desk to disconnect his laptop and shoved it into his backpack, practically sprinting for the door. He continued out of the hallway, throwing the door open as he regained his composure.

A guard looked to him with a quizzical look.

"Afternoon, sir," he greeted, continuing past him like nothing was amiss.

"Attention passengers of flight 419, bound for Port Cyrreine International," the pilot announced. "Our arrival will be delayed for the time being, due to police activity at the destination. We thank you for your patience."

A collective groan filled the air of the cabin.

Caspian joined in. He had stopped feeling his legs a good couple hours before, and that kid three rows back still hadn't stopped crying. After Vacuo one week then Mistral the next, he had enough international travel for the next year or so. He never did speak much with Cattleya's parents, though judging by the way they waved him off after a brief introduction, that fact didn't bother them much at all. He wasn't even sure they remembered his name.

Caspian looked at the view of the bay out the window, and his eyes fell upon the campus of Sentinel Academy. Still a couple months before the new school year, and the next time he'd see Cattleya. But of course, a return to class meant being back on Team CRLN with Noxis.

He hoped it would be worth it.

"Sorry I'm so late, guys," Caspian greeted as he strolled through the gate with his rolling suitcase in tow. "Lots of security here again today. Do you know what happened?"

Ichigo pumped his fist triumphantly. "That was us!"

"WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Hey Caaaas?" Moka asked, tilting her head around the screen in front of her. "What are we supposed to be looking for again?"

Caspian paused his feed of the department store. "Anything that seems unusual to you. Like, someone looking around a lot, loitering, anything like that. Although if someone's loitering around at the airport, that might be normal..."

"Huh." Moka rested her chin on her hand, but perked back up a couple of seconds later. "Aw, cute! I think this guy's girlfriend or wife or something just got back from a trip. They're hugging."

"Moka, please stay focused," Ichigo begged. "Remember. We're trying to get a visual on the serial killer."

"Right. Serial killer," Moka repeated to herself. She looked back to her screen for less than a minute, until her fidgeting and glances out the window reached a head.

"I wanna get coffee. Anyone want anything?"

"Moka!" Caspian cried out. As much as her distraction turned into his own, he couldn't bring himself to blame her. They had been parked around the table in her dorm for well over two hours, sitting in silence or smalltalk and watching the blandness of life in the city through a screen that hurt their eyes.

"Seriously, it's like you have ADHD or something!" Rowan teased.

"I... do, actually."

"...Oh."

"Well, maybe that's not a bad idea. Maybe we could take a quick break, a chance to come back with fresh eyes," Caspian decided. "Come back in 15?"

The break did little to lift Caspian's spirits, and after a short walk he was dragging himself back to the table, dreading the next several hours. He marvelled at the unparalleled mundanity onscreen. At about ten in the morning was the highlight of the feed, when that woman stole a pair of shoes. But the hours since had fallen into such mind-numbingness he found himself envying Moka, who watched the airport. In a passing glance out the window, Caspian noticed Ichigo's eyes blink wider. He adjusted his glasses, and leaned into his laptop. "Uh..."

Caspian heaved himself from his chair. Relief, after so much time. "What? Did you find something?"

"...Not exactly."

Ichigo turned his laptop around to Caspian, Rowan, Ichigo, and Snow, who had huddled around each other in curiosity. A small message box had popped up in the upper corner of Ichigo's screen. Completely blank; not tied to any program or social media, and no name given by the sender apart from a single black dot beside the words:

"You've taken quite the interest in this case, haven't you?"

"What... who is that?" Caspian questioned, voice hardly beating a whisper.

Ichigo shook his head. "I don't know. That weird box just popped up out of nowhere." He turned his laptop back to himself, and typed out the obvious question, "who are you?" No need to turn it back around, as everyone had gathered behind him in wait for the answer.

A blinking line indicated that whoever made contact with the group was typing. It paused, then resumed before an answer appeared.

"Someone with a common interest."

Ichigo's brow stitched. "None of that. If you're going to be sending messages directly through my computer, I need to know who you are. And how you're doing this."

"You can call me Kraken. And I noticed you poking around the police archives."

"Are you from the police?"

The answer came almost instantly.

"No."

"Yeesh, this is freaky," Moka chimed in. "I don't like this."

"I don't trust this person," Snow warned.

"Neither do I..." Ichigo agreed. "I hate to admit it, but if they got into my laptop, they're good. Maybe better than me. We shouldn't do anything to get on their bad side." He cracked a knuckle before typing another question:

"Do you know anything about the killer?"

The chat box disappeared.

One more break was the only respite before the day expired. The Summer sun sunk below the horizon, leaving the group in a darkness lit only by the city outside, and the screens they lost their day to. Caspian's legs were numb and he could feel the bags under his eyes. Judging by the slumped postures and half-dead expressions of his friends, the mission was a failure.

"Anyone else fine to call it here? I've had enough for one day..." Caspian asked in defeat, leaning back in his chair and looking to the ceiling.

"I was really hoping someone would ask that," Moka admitted.

"I'm beat..." Rowan groaned, crossing his arms on the table and laying on top of them. "Man, The Roots is probably already closed."

"I have no problem with stopping here," Snow said.

Caspian groaned in agreement. "I guess plan B is to look through the victims, see if we can establish some kind of link. That way we can guess at a motive. Ichigo, can you look them up? Find some info on them?"

"Yeah."

Caspian gave a slow, noncommittal nod. "But rest first. I'm tired."

"Good morning, Caspian. You slept for seven hours and fifty-five minutes," the mechanical voice in his headboard greeted. "You have one voice message from Ichigo Kurayami. Would you like to listen?"

"Ichigo..." Caspian muttered, flipping his pillow over to the cool side and rubbing his eye. "Sure."

"Look. After all that work we put in, I couldn't let it be for nothing. I've spent the last day and a half going through the surveillance footage and I think I noticed something! We need to meet today!"

The animated certainty in Ichigo's voice ripped Caspian from his blankets. No time for a shower. A light breakfast on the go would do- whatever Ichigo found, it sounded big.

No more than an hour after he woke, Caspian was back in Cedar Hall with the rest of his crew. Rowan looked a bit groggy, as did Caspian himself. But none as bad for wear as Ichigo. The poor boy looked like he had skipped the last two nights' sleep, but maintained an aura of restless excitement despite it.

Ichigo flicked his fingers up from the bottom of his laptop screen, and the display of four different feeds projected above the table. The posh lobby of a corporate building downtown. The aisles of a department store, racks lined with designer clothes. A less-used hallway of the airport, next to baggage claim. Cyrreine Mall, on the sidewalk just outside that Mistrali restaurant Caspian had his eye on.

"I don't know how long I spent looking over every second of these feeds, but I swear, I found something. Watch." Ichigo tapped a key on his laptop, and the still figures on each display began to move.

On each of the screens, an unusually tall man moved among the crowd. In isolation, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. At the department store, he poked around the racks for a bit. He seemed interested in the restaurant's menu. He dressed in dark clothes, somewhat formal, as far as Caspian could tell. Nothing to draw attention to himself.

But between his gangly walk, long, thin legs, and the peculiar black visor all but obscuring his eyes, it was unmistakable. The same man was in each shot.

"Look. This is the same guy, spotted in each place the day before each murder took place," Ichigo narrated. "That would be one heck of a coincidence."

"That would be..." Caspian agreed. "Well, we know what the guy probably looks like now, so that's progress!" He adjusted his glasses. "Did you notice him doing anything weird? Like... hiding, maybe?"

Ichigo shook his head. "These are the only clear shots I got of him. He shows up for a few seconds on other cameras here and there, but he's not doing anything suspicious."

"Nice work, Ichigo!" Moka commended. "...Now what?"

"Now, we turn this information over to the authorities," Snow insisted. "And hope they don't ask how we have it."

Caspian shook his head. "That would raise way too many questions."

"I could ask around on social media, see if anyone I know recognizes the guy!" Moka suggested.

Caspian pursed his lips. "That would make sense, but we really don't want everyone knowing we're doing this..."

Rowan prodded Ichigo. "Maybe our hacker extraordinaire could work his way into some kind of database? Like, of criminals or something?"

"That would take a long time," Ichigo replied. "And it's just a matter of luck whether I choose the right one. If the guy hasn't committed any other crimes here, I wouldn't find him."

"Hold that thought, then," Caspian decided. "I've been looking through his victims, trying to establish a link. I can't find much of anything that connects them."

"What do you mean?" Moka asked.

"Well, usually if someone's killing multiple people, they have something in common." Caspian grimaced. "Usually, I feel like it tends to be women. Or, say, hitchikers along a stretch of road. But in this case, the only thread between them is the fact they were killed at work." He was next to project his display above the table. The pictures of four people; two men, two women, filled the air.

Kegan Lasta, 27

Alice Frost, 25

Pearl Eaves, 29

Peter Gneis, 30

"None of them are bad looking," Rowan noted. He gave an out-of-place chuckle. "...Maybe he's really ugly, trying to get back at attractive people!"

"Well, we couldn't see his face all too well from the camera, so even if that was a joke we really can't write that off as a possibility," Caspian allowed. Rowan wasn't wrong- both women had kind faces with soft, friendly features. Both men were clean shaven, with strong jawlines and sculpted noses. They were all rather attractive, but there was something decidedly plain about all of them. All of their faces were all oddly symmetric, safe.

So unusually... normal looking.

"See, I actually had some time to do research of my own," Ichigo added. I started on social media, then moved onto employment records, background checks, even ran a quick scan on the city's census data. I couldn't find anything.

Yeah, I'm pretty good at social media stal- s-searching," Rowan added. "I couldn't find 'em anywhere either."

"Wait, what?" Caspian questioned.

"No matter how much I looked, I couldn't find a trace of them," Ichigo continued. "If they were listed anywhere, I would have found them. It's like these people didn't even exist!"

"Maybe the news put out fake names," Snow suggested.

In that instant, all the little puzzle pieces floating around in Caspian's mind clicked into place with sudden clarity. "That's... almost right," he realized. He stood, and pulled the pictures and information of each victim beside one another. "Decent looking, all fairly young, able-bodied, killed at their workplaces hours before anyone should be there." He turned around to his group.

"He's not killing humans. He's killing androids."