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“Right. Can you tell me anything else about it? Was this some mass-produced thing? Are there any unique features? An old nick in it you might remember?”

“I believe it was unique. One of a kind. It was our maternal grandmother’s. Cleo and I had been really close to her when she was alive, but especially Cleo. We’d even discussed moving in with her. She died when we were pretty young, though. But that had been her wedding ring.”

“Huh.” Zann looked at him.

“It also has an inscription inside. ‘ My heart resides within you .’ ”

Something about those words made Niko ache in a deep, inconsolable sort of way. Maybe because he felt every one of them now—profoundly, personally.

Zann gestured at Niko impatiently. “Alright, so ask her what it says inside. Just in case some jackoff made a copy from the video for this.”

Niko sighed and steeled himself, then started typing. Hi, Angela. I hate to ask, but the ring says something inside of it. Can you tell me what it says?

The three waited in tense silence, when Niko’s phone pinged.

Sure. I understand. There are a lot of messed up people out there. It says: my heart resides within you.

“Ask her for a picture of herself,” Zann pushed.

“Fucking god, Zann,” Niko said. He understood the reason for the request, but actually asking it made his skin crawl. “You saw the video. She—”

“I know. But we need to know, Niko. It’s the last thing. She’s sounding pretty fucking legit. Either that, or someone managed to get that ring. But we need to know.”

Niko glanced at Elliott. He’d half expected him to push alongside Zann, to let his paranoia take over and insist it needed to be done. But, instead, he gave Niko a pitiful look, barely shaking his head. Niko ran a hand over his face before starting to text anyway. “Fuck.”

Okay. I’m sorry, Angela. I have to ask one last thing. Do you have a photo of yourself?

This time, there was a long delay before her response finally came. I don’t really want to do that. I’m sorry. I’m not the same anymore. They ruined me. If it helps, I’m willing to speak with you on the phone.

Niko felt like a monster. He wished he hadn’t asked.

“Do it,” Zann said. “Call her. We need something. ”

Niko hesitated again, casting another glance at Elliott.

“Do it,” Elliott agreed, nodding subtly.

He put a call through. Angela answered on the third ring. For a moment, Niko wasn’t sure what to say. She spoke first.

“Hello? Is this Niko?” It was the same raspy, deep but feminine voice from the videos. The same one that had dug into Niko’s mind and would never leave. He cast a flickering glance up toward the others and nodded. Zann returned the nod, silently agreeing with his assessment. It was her. “Hello?”

“Uh, hi. Angela. Yeah, this is Niko.”

“Thank you for reaching out. I didn’t know if you even read any of these messages. I figured it was a long shot, but… Anyway, I’m glad it worked.”

“Yeah. Um. Thanks for reaching out to me, too. You—” He glanced up at Zann, who impatiently gestured for him to get on with it.

Niko looked away from him. “Listen, sorry if this is too personal, but are you alright? I mean in the sense of— Are you safe right now? Do you need any kind of help or shelter?”

Niko had no idea what he could possibly offer her, but if another of Uru Taal’s surviving victims needed help, he would do anything to see it done. Maybe Lady Death could house her.

Angela paused for a beat. When she spoke, she sounded a little touched—and, maybe, a little sad, too. “That’s… kind of you to ask. But I’m alright. Since it happened, I’ve learned how to evade them pretty damn well. I can take care of myself. I’m used to it now.”

“Okay,” he said. He prayed that their stirring things up with Elliott’s speech and file distribution hadn’t put her in even greater danger somehow.

A thought occurred to him, then. Niko wondered how many people there might actually be out there, who’d slipped through the cracks and were forgotten or managed to survive the atrocities of Honeybliss, only to quietly disappear, like Angela had.

Like Elliott had—until he’d embarked on his mission.

“Do you know if there’s anyone else out there like you? Anyone who survived—”

“No,” she said, and they both fell quiet for a moment.

“Sorry. I really, really am. Most people don’t survive this.

I’ve searched relentlessly, just in case.

I’d only ever caught on that there may have been someone else recently, and it turned out to be Elliott Kestrel.

They have years of experience burying this shit. ”

“Yeah. That’s— Yeah, that’s fair. Um,” he continued, stumbling again over his words. “Speaking of searching. You said you might be able to help us. I think… we could use a little of that right now, honestly.”

“It would be my pleasure, believe me. You’ve probably seen it in the files already, but I used to work as a financial skip tracer.”

“Yeah. That’s—that’s actually exactly what we need right now. Since we distributed the files and had the broadcast, we think they’re all going to go into hiding. I mean, it wouldn’t really make sense to just hang around and wait to get killed.”

“Makes sense,” she agreed. “You’re right. I’m confident I can find any of them. I’ve been keeping tabs on them over the past year anyway. Fuckers. ”

Niko let out a soft snort at that last word. It said so much, with so little. “Are you sure? I mean, they’re probably going to have a lot of help covering up their locations, too.”

“Yeah, actually. You might not think so, but hiding someone who wants to stay alive is a lot harder than hiding the corpses they created can be. These assholes will need food, they’ll need shelter.

Maybe even entertainment, depending. They’ll need to exchange income for those things.

They can hide it well, but there will be receipts and transaction histories somewhere.

Tell me who you want to pick off next, and I’ll get you their location,” Angela said.

Niko glanced at Zann and Elliott; both nodded back at him.

“Yeah. Okay.” He caught Elliott’s gaze from the corner of his eye. The other man mouthed Enva’ruu to him, but Niko continued on, all force and will. “We’re going for Yerudu Hesaakan next.”

Elliott gaped at him, but said nothing. He paled slightly.

It had to be Yerudu, though. It couldn’t be anyone else. Niko could honor Elliott’s wish to save Uru Taal for last—though only barely—but he couldn’t tolerate Yerudu Hesaakan living to see another day. That Heenva shitstain was fair game.

“Alright. Sure. I can do that.”

“Is there anything we can do for you, Angela? Anything at all?”

“No. You just stay put and let me do what I do best. Trust me. By taking care of them, you’re doing me plenty of favors.” She hesitated, before adding, “Actually. Is—is Elliott around?”

Niko looked at him. Elliott was quiet for a moment, before speaking. “I’m here.”

There was a strangely charged silence, something full of such deep emotion Niko could barely begin to touch it. These were two people who’d both endured and shared a very particular nightmare.

Finally, Angela spoke again. “I… I wanted to say thank you. For everything that you’ve done. It must have been so hard for you, alone and without anyone listening.”

“It was.” Elliott paused. “For you too, I imagine.”

“Yeah. I’ve been following them, this whole time. But I was too afraid to ever actually act. It felt too big. Hopeless, I guess.”

“Yes,” he said. “I didn’t… go into this with hope.”

“I’ll find Hesaakan for you. It’s the least I can do, after everything that you’ve done for all the people they hurt.”

Elliott didn’t reply, so Niko answered her instead. “Thanks, Angela.”

“Sure.” She seemed to still be addressing Elliott with her next words, though.

“There are probably a lot of people out there right now just living their lives, going about their days. Not knowing they would have been next. Not knowing that they owe their futures to you. And if there is anyone else out there who survived, too, they’ve probably been waiting for a long, long time for someone like you. I have.”

Elliott said nothing.

Five and a half hours later, Niko received a set of text messages with an address to a remote bunker on the opposite side of forestial Vorna-12 as Baouban’s destroyed safehouse was. Crowded into the Murder Room now, he poured over their information with Zann and Elliott.

“Could still be a trap,” Zann mused. Niko hated the thought, but he was right.

Everything about Angela seemed genuine, but then again, so had Baouban once, and the fact that her coordinates led to the same planet they’d been so deeply betrayed on set a sick sort of irony to it all.

“She got this pretty fast, given everything. Might be Galapol agents camping out there again, just like with Khaathra.”

“Yeah,” Niko mumbled.

“Wish we had a way to check it out. Drone footage, or something. Should have tried to nab one of those from Galapol too.”

“Actually,” Elliott said, “in a way, you did.” He went and retrieved T1-N4 from a shelf.

Niko did a double take, looking at her now.

The little bot was polished clean and fixed up, with a ridiculous new paint job that had crudely illustrated flames along the bottom of her and a skull and crossbones above the beautifully preserved Lord Fukkaho sticker.

One arm now terminated in what appeared to be a miniature flamethrower instead of her usual prehensile pincers, with a tiny fuel canister attached. A partially-concealed camera was installed on her front, just above her interface. Niko barked a laugh as he took it all in.

“What the hell? You did that, Elliott?”

Elliott shrugged. “I… needed to get my mind off things lately and working on this helped.”

“Is that a fucking flamethrower?” Zann marveled.

“It is,” Elliott said. Niko couldn’t help but notice the carefully concealed pride in his tone that still managed to subtly slip through. “Fully functional, too.”