Page 56

EON

T he streams of data flowed around me like currents in an endless digital ocean.

I let my Flux guide me through the virtual architecture, my consciousness extending beyond the boundaries of my physical form.

This deep in cyberspace, the normal restrictions fell away.

I could sense the intricate patterns of Neo Stellaris’ network infrastructure I now had access to—the bright, clean channels of Sky District, the chaotic mesh of Blue, the limited lines in Green, and the deteriorating pathways of Magenta.

And something else.

It wasn’t the first time I’d felt a presence in the data, so massive it seemed to encompass the entire cyber world. Like standing at the edge of an abyss and feeling it watching you back. It never manifested directly, just hovered at the periphery of perception. A digital ghost—or something worse.

I’d searched the forums for similar experiences, and they’d led me down nothing but conspiracy rabbit holes.

Deus est Machina and all such equally worthless drivel.

I’d even found a particularly funny one claiming Levi had to peel off his flesh suit every night to let his reptilian skin breathe, which was why no one ever saw him after dark. Ridiculous.

But even as I rejected those explanations, the presence lingered. Today, it felt closer. More attentive. As if it had decided to stop hiding.

I extended my Flux further, trying to get a clearer sense of the anomaly, when the network around me suddenly shifted. Security protocols engaged. Pathways redirected. Someone with high-level access was altering my environment.

I pulled back, returning to my reconstruction work. My Flux sang as I let the usual limitations melt away. I let as much current flow through me as I could muster, expanding into the data. I wasn’t hiding anymore, and it felt absolutely incredible to be this free.

“Fascinating approach, Ms. Ibarra. Unconventional, but elegant.”

I hadn’t heard him enter the lab. I sat up at the sudden presence of Levi Ameré, standing behind me with the casual authority of someone who owned not just the building but the very air inside it.

I disengaged fully from the interface, my Flux reluctantly retreating beneath my skin. “I wasn’t aware the CEO of POM Enterprises took an interest in data retrieval methodologies.”

His smile was perfect, an expression designed in a boardroom. “I take an interest in exceptional talent. Your recovery techniques are…unprecedented. Even our best data engineers couldn’t parse those fragments.”

There was something distinctly unnerving about the way he studied me. Not with the clinical detachment Tex employed, but with an almost predatory fascination. I was a particularly interesting specimen under glass for him to manipulate.

“Just doing the job I was contracted for,” I said, sliding my chair back slightly to establish distance.

“Are you?” Levi moved closer, casual yet deliberate. “I’ve reviewed your access patterns. You’ve been exploring areas well beyond the Renard investigation parameters.”

I kept my expression neutral. “Data recovery isn’t linear. Sometimes you have to follow tangential pathways to reconstruct the original pattern.”

“Hmm.” He reached out, and a holographic display sprung to life. With a smooth gesture, he rearranged the fragments I’d been working on, forming new patterns. “And what patterns have you found, Ms. Ibarra?”

The way he manipulated the data was unsettling, and a shiver ran down my spine. Perhaps it was his Air Flux—the way he bent his very environment to his needs, not once considering the ramifications.

“Nothing conclusive yet,” I answered carefully. “Just fragments.”

“Fragments can be remarkably revealing when viewed from the right perspective.” He moved the pieces into a new configuration with a fluid gesture. “For instance, this doesn’t just look like basic archival documents. More like experimental code that belongs in a POM lab, don’t you think?”

He moved everything around, surprisingly adept at the manipulation. I supposed one didn’t become the CEO of the world’s largest data company without knowing a few things.

Usually.

“Ah, but it’s been so long since I’ve gotten to actually work with the data I’m in charge of. You’ll forgive my micromanaging. I see now—you had everything arranged in a way that synced with your unique EM field. Apologies for interfering.”

My pulse quickened. He shouldn’t have been able to detect that level of detail about my Flux signature. “I hadn’t made that connection.”

“No?” His eyes met mine, and they were dark. So dark I could hardly make out his pupils. “You’re being modest. Your sensitivity to electromagnetic patterns is quite extraordinary. It’s what makes your approach to cyberspace so unique.”

I fought the urge to recoil. “I’m not following.”

“Your navigation methods. They’re intuitive rather than algorithmic.

You don’t just access the system—you resonate with it.

Your Flux acts as an intermediary between the system and the code you write, correcting any errors.

” He leaned closer, his voice dropping slightly.

“It’s a use of Flux I’ve never seen before. One that interests me greatly.”

The subtext was clear: he hadn’t just been monitoring my work. He’d been monitoring me .

“Is that why you approved my contract?” I asked. “Because I’m interesting ?”

“I approved your contract because you’re valuable, Ms. Ibarra. Far more valuable than I suspect you realize.” His perfect smile returned. “The patterns you’re capable of perceiving…they transcend conventional data structures. They touch on something more transformative.”

That same feeling I’d experienced in cyberspace returned—that sense of something vast and beyond my control was watching me. Only now, it wasn’t on the periphery. It was standing right in front of me.

“What does this have to do with Renard’s death?” I fought to keep my voice steady.

“Everything is connected, Ms. Ibarra. Patterns within patterns.” He straightened, smoothing his immaculate jacket.

“That’s why I founded this company. POM Enterprises was once just POM Data.

A profile for every human being on the planet.

Their wants, their needs, their actions.

People think we were just targeting ads—but it’s so much more than that.

Individually, each of these profiles is not worth much.

But the patterns they create? That is the true value. ”

“And what do you do with that information?” I asked, barely above a whisper.

The smile on his face grew more genuine. It was not comforting. “Would you like to know? I can have an employment contract written up—”

“No, thank you.” I knew a trap when I saw one.

He cocked his head in a chilling motion. “So resistant.” He paused. “Tell me, what have you discovered about asset Hoshina during your collaboration?”

The abrupt shift caught me off guard. “Cy? What does he have to do with this?”

“Indulge me.”

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. “He’s effective at his job. Committed.” I paused. “Deadly.” Everyone knew what POM Security did, but I doubted it was often stated so plainly. Levi ignored it.

“And your electromagnetic frequencies—how do they interact?”

Ice spread through my veins. There was no way he should know about that—about the resonance between us. How could he know?

“We maintain appropriate boundaries,” I said flatly.

Levi’s laugh was soft and completely devoid of genuine amusement. “Boundaries are fascinating constructs. Necessary for definition, yet always permeable at some level. Especially for people whose nature is fundamentally connective.”

Every instinct screamed danger, though there was nothing overtly threatening in his words—just weight, heavy and invasive.

“I should get back to work,” I said, gesturing to my Vysor. “The data won’t reconstruct itself.”

“Not yet, anyway. Perhaps a new project for next quarter.” Levi stepped back, giving me space. “But we can discuss that later.”

He turned to leave, every movement fluid and precise. Something about him reminded me of my encounters with Tex. But while Tex felt calculated, Levi radiated something older—colder.

“A piece of advice, Ms. Ibarra.”

I tensed, waiting.

“Some discoveries transform more than just our understanding.” His eyes held mine, and I couldn’t look away. “They transform us. Be prepared for that change.”

The words settled over me like a shroud.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I managed to ask.

His expression softened into something almost like compassion—which somehow made it more terrifying. “Don’t worry. When the time comes, I’ll ensure you’re exactly where you need to be.”

He left, and the space he’d occupied stayed charged with an energy I couldn’t name. I realized I was trembling, my Flux pulsing erratically beneath my skin. The screens before me flickered, the data forming patterns I could almost comprehend—then collapsing again.

One breath. Two. My heart was racing. Levi’s presence hadn’t just been oppressive—it had been overwhelming, like the room couldn’t quite hold whatever he truly was.

I shook my head. I needed sleep if some rich fucker could rattle me like that.

I forced myself to focus on the screen, trying to recapture the thread, but it was no use.

The sound of footsteps pulled me back to reality. Cy appeared in the doorway, the dark void Levi left behind now filled with his familiar electric aura. Something inside me settled—he was a counterweight to the chaos Levi stirred.

“You all right? Look like you saw a ghost.”

I nearly laughed at how close that felt to the truth. “Yeah. Got the computes. If we keep at it, we might have the data recovered by morning.”

He smirked, and it was so normal, so human, that the lingering unease began to ebb. “I’ll make us some coffee.”

He lingered in the doorway, and another moment stretched between us—not tense, but full of possibility. Like something was waiting to sweep me away, if I’d just let it.

“I’m not used to seeing you like this,” I said, before I could stop myself.

Cy’s smirk softened into something more genuine. “You mean, not used to me being nice?”

I laughed, any remaining tension bleeding away. “Yeah, I guess that’s what I mean.”

“Don’t read too much into it. I just don’t want DITA to scold me.”

“What?”

He laughed again, and my stomach flipped—for reasons that had nothing to do with fear. “Get back to work, doll.”

I turned back to the terminal, but my thoughts remained divided—half on the code before me, half on the two men who’d just stood in the same space.

One whose electromagnetic field harmonized with mine in ways I still couldn’t explain, and one whose presence stretched far beyond what a single human should contain.

As I sank back into the data stream, it now felt—reassuringly—empty.