The medical scanner loomed over me like a ancient metal spider, its joints creaking as the arms repositioned. Rust flaked from its housing, patched with makeshift repairs and jury-rigged components. Not exactly confidence-inspiring, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

  "Girl, what have you gotten yourself into?" Daisy's gravel voice cut through the whir of diagnostic drones.

  I lay still as the machines mapped my brain, creating a real-time simulation that floated in holographic detail above me. The drones worked methodically, their sensors penetrating deeper into my neural architecture.

  "Just needed a peek inside." My voice came out steadier than I felt.

  Daisy's sharp intake of breath told me she'd found it. The implant. It pulsed with an unnatural glow near my prefrontal cortex, its plant-like tendrils spreading through my gray matter.

  "This ain't Union tech." She tapped commands into her console. "Let's see what happens when we—"

  A jolt of electricity hit the implant. My vision exploded with light as the device surged with activity.

  The world shifted.

  Cold lunar dust crunched under my boots. Alarms screamed through the corridor.

  "Multiple hostile entities approaching. Recommend immediate evacuation." Karen's voice held its usual mix of concern and judgment.

  I planted my feet. The corridor stretched ahead, shadows dancing at its far end. Three massive shapes emerged, spider-like creatures, their obsidian bodies gleaming under emergency lights. Their claws left deep gouges in the metal floor as they charged.

  My heart hammered. Sweat beaded on my forehead. But I didn't move.

  They launched themselves at me, claws extended for the kill.

  Time froze. The creatures hung suspended, caught between moments like insects in amber. I studied their frozen forms, noting the artificial perfection of their design. With a wave of my hand, they crumbled to dust.

  I let out a long breath. "Just as I thought. None of this is real." The corridor, the monsters, even the moon itself; all just elaborate constructs in a simulation.

  Lights flashed and I was back on Daisy's examination table, the ancient scanner still humming above me.

  "—could remove it in under an hour. Complex little bugger, but harmless from what I can tell. These tendrils are just surface-level, not burrowing into—"

  "Don't." I grabbed her wrist. "It's human tech. Advanced monitoring system."

  Daisy's eyes narrowed. "What kind of monitoring we talking about?"

  "Fear exploitation. Creates simulations from trauma to extract subconscious information." I shifted to sit up. "Outside of that, it's harmless."

  "Well this one's working overtime." She pointed at the holographic readout, showing elevated activity patterns. "From the looks of it you didn't know you had this bugger in you" She added, her fingers tracing the intricate design of the Mind Crawler.

  “It has most likely been in there for years. The Union uses implants like these for special targets.” I hesitated. “But something feels… off. The design’s too elegant. Union tech tends to be blunt and boring.”

  "For now, I just need to stop it from driving me crazy without actually shutting it down." I pointed to her energy modulator. "Hit it with a pulse, frequency seven, three-second burst."

  Daisy adjusted the settings and fired. The plant-like appendages dimmed immediately, their glow fading to a dull amber as their functions powered down.

  "Thanks, Daisy." I slid off the examination table, my legs still a bit wobbly from the neural scan. The metal floor felt cold through my thin shoes.

  "Hold up." Daisy's massive frame blocked the exit. "That's it? A quick brain scan and we're square?" She crossed her arms. "Not that I'm complaining, but that barely covers the power cost of firing up this old beast."

  A smile tugged at my lips as I pulled a folded paper from my pocket. "Of course not."

  Daisy's eyes widened as she scanned the list. Her brow furrowed deeper with each line. "Quantum stabilizers... military-grade power cells... restricted nanotech components?" She looked up. "Kid, this is some serious hardware. What in void's name are you planning to build?"

  "Nothing illegal, if that's what you're worried about." I leaned against the doorframe. "Can you get them?"

  "Maybe. But these ain't cheap. Or easy to find." She tapped the paper against her palm. "Some of these components, I've never even heard of."

  "Fifty percent commission. All of it within three weeks."

  Daisy's eyes narrowed, scanning my face for any sign of deception. "That's... generous." She glanced back at the list. "Too generous."

  "Take it or leave it."

  She let out a long breath, then nodded. "Deal. But if this comes back to bite me..."

  "It won't." I stepped past her towards the exit. The corridor beyond stretched dark and empty, perfect for a quiet escape back to my dorm.

  "Whatever you're planning," Daisy called after me, "just try not to blow up the station."

  I didn't answer. Some promises were better left unmade.

  ****************************

  The workshop fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the soft hum of my diagnostic tools. Dana towered at the front, arms crossed, watching my every move. Behind her, seventy pairs of eyes burned holes in my back as I worked on the massive sensor array sprawled across the testing platform.

  "Next we have the quantum field harmonizer." I adjusted the calibration on my scanner. "This particular model uses a triple-redundancy system. Most people miss the backup circuits hidden in the tertiary housing."

  My fingers traced the intricate pathways of the array's neural network. The tech was beautiful in its complexity; crystalline matrices interwoven with quantum-sensitive filaments, all wrapped in layers of protection that would make a military engineer jealous.

  "The sensitivity's off by point-three microns here." I reached into the guts of the machine, bypassing the main control cluster. "Probably from a meteor strike. Easy fix if you know where to look."

  A collective gasp rose from the crowd as I extracted a hair-thin fiber optic cable, its surface barely scratched. Dana's cybernetic eye whirred as she zoomed in on my work.

  "Replacing the damaged line would cost about fifty thousand credits." I held up the cable. "But if you reverse the polarity and run it through a quantum buffer..." I twisted the cable, reconnecting it through an alternate pathway. The array hummed to life, its status indicators shifting from red to green.

  "That's impossible," someone whispered from the back. "Those systems are hardwired to—"

  Only if you follow Union protocols," I said, reconnecting the pathway. "But Embertech left backdoors. Smart ones."

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  The array's holographic display expanded, showing detection ranges far beyond its original specs. I'd not only fixed it, I'd upgraded it to military-grade sensitivity.

  Dana's expression remained neutral, but her cigarette burned a little brighter as she watched the performance metrics climb.

  I set down my diagnostic tools with a casual shrug. "And that's all you have to do."

  Dana's metalic eye whirred as she processed the repair. Her perpetual scowl softened into something close to approval before she turned back to address the crowd of stunned apprentices.

  When I proposed this challenge yesterday, even Dana thought I was in over my head. A totaled radar array wasn't just broken; it was scrap metal waiting to be recycled. The kind of engineering needed to resurrect something like this went beyond her considerable skills. An engineer capable of this level of work was worth their weight in gold-pressed platinum.

  But my success created a new problem: Dana had nothing left to teach me. Her program typically kept apprentices under her iron grip for a decade; assuming they survived that long. There was only one way out early: prove yourself with something so impressive it earned Dana's approval. In thirty years, only one person had managed that feat.

  I should have felt triumphant. Instead, my stomach churned as I thought about that previous "miracle" graduate. Elias had impressed Dana so thoroughly at age seventeen that she'd broken her own rules. He was brilliant, I'd give him that. But brilliance had fed his already massive ego until he'd become unbearable, constantly reminding everyone of his prodigy status and this exact achievement.

  The thought of seeing his face when he learned someone had topped his record at an even younger age brought a smile to my lips. Let him choke on the fact that a fifteen-year-old had matched his greatest accomplishment. The fact that I was technically twice his age in mind if not body didn't diminish my satisfaction one bit. After everything he'd become, he deserved to taste some humble pie.

  The realization I had not too long ago that the Union had been monitoring me through an implant changed everything. My carefully laid plans, meant to unfold over months or years, now had to be compressed into weeks. I couldn't risk them discovering what I knew about the future.

  Over the past three weeks, while Daisy gathered the specialized components I'd requested, I threw myself into Dana's workshop with desperate intensity. Every repair quota shattered, every engineering challenge conquered. The other apprentices whispered that I must be using illegal stims, but Dana knew better. She saw the desperation driving me, even if she didn't understand its source.

  When I proposed the wager, my instant graduation against an impossible repair task, Dana had laughed. Now she held my freshly printed engineering credentials, still warm from the printer.

  But this achievement wasn't about pride or recognition. It was about creating a specific kind of attention. Through Lira, I'd been strategically leaking technological innovations; breakthrough concepts that wouldn't be discovered for another decade. The corrupted chip incident should had already put me on the radar. These new leaks, carefully crafted to seem like accidental reveals of advanced knowledge, drew even more scrutiny.

  If the Union knew who I really was, they’d be knocking already. But they weren’t. Which meant Lira’s distraction campaign worked a little too well. For all their power, they were chasing shadows. And Dana’s shadow was long. Which is exactly what I needed right now.

  The Union valued talent above all else. They might be bureaucratic, short-sighted, and often incompetent, but they weren't stupid. When they finally traced these incidents back to Dana and then me, and they would, they'd have two options: eliminate a potential threat or recruit an asset. I was betting my life they'd choose the latter.

  I touched the spot where I knew the implant rested in my brain. Soon I'd have to disable it permanently, and that would force their hand. But by then, I'd have painted such an attractive target on my back that they couldn't resist bringing me in alive.

  Three years. That's all the time I had to prevent Admiral Voss's catastrophic mistake from wiping San Marino together with most of the continent off the map. Leaving everything behind: Dana's workshop, Chen's noodles, even my fragile friendship with Lira, hurt more than I'd expected. But compared to watching an entire continet die again, it was a small price to pay.

  ***********************

  My phone chimed with the familiar "Come over" message. Lira and her cryptic summons; at least she was consistent. With Dana processing my graduation credentials, I had time to spare.

  The workshop's heavy doors clanked shut behind me as I stepped into San Marino's perpetual industrial haze. The usual bustle of the streets felt different today, crowds gathering ahead near Central Plaza instead of dispersing to their normal routines.

  I spotted the cause from two blocks away. A Mentor stood motionless in the square, its massive form rising nearly four meters high. Its obsidian carapace absorbed light like a black hole, making the creature seem more void than matter. Six enormous crab-like legs supported a humanoid torso, while its angular head tracked something in the distance with eyes that glowed a soft blue.

  Children circled it fearlessly, some even daring to touch its armored shell. The adults kept a more respectful distance, but their expressions showed curiosity rather than fear. I couldn't blame them; Mentors rarely ventured into mid-tier cities like San Marino.

  The sight brought back memories of the Bastion, the Union's headquarters, where Mentors moved freely through the corridors, their presence so common it became background noise. I'd seen rebels empty entire clips into their shells, only for the rounds to bounce off harmlessly. The Mentors never retaliated, simply continuing whatever task had brought them there.

  This one seemed content to serve as an impromptu tourist attraction. Its stillness was absolute, as if someone had carved a perfect statue from a single piece of otherworldly stone. Only the subtle glow of its eyes proved it was alive.

  I gave it a respectful nod as I passed. Whatever had drawn it here wasn't my business. Finch's shop waited ahead, and Lira wasn't known for her patience.

  As I passed, I felt it; an almost imperceptible flicker in the back of my skull. Like someone had turned a page in my brain.It vanished before I could be sure it was even real.

  I took another look back, but the statue remained still, ignoring my existence completely.

  Maybe I'm too stressed, which is understandable.

  The cleaning robots swarmed me as I went past the golden door, their nanoparticles scrubbing away imaginary dirt before dousing me in that overwhelming perfume. I doubled over coughing, eyes watering from the assault of artificial flowers and spices.

  "Finch?" The word caught in my throat as I spotted him at the counter.

  He stood rigid, hands clasped behind his back, lacking his usual theatrical flair. No flowing silks or jangling rings today, just a simple black vest that made him look smaller than usual.

  The sight unsettled me.

  In the three weeks since the chip incident, he'd been conspicuously absent, leaving Lira to handle all our dealings.

  "Let me be blunt." His voice came out low, strained. "When we met for the first time three weeks ago, you said my wife would be back about this time, right?"

  The mixture of hope and desperation in his eyes hit me like a physical blow. I checked the date in my head: April 18th, 207. Two days ago.

  "She should be back by now," I said carefully. "The only reason I can think she isn't is because you weren't here yourself."

  Finch's shoulders slumped. "I pulled every string I had. Called in favors that'll take years to repay." He pulled out a crumpled Union document. "They declared her MIA."

  The words struck like ice in my veins. This wasn't right. This couldn't be right. In my timeline, Avery had returned, slightly injured but very much alive. The realization of what I'd done hit me with crushing force.

  I'd changed too much. Every action, every piece of future knowledge I'd leveraged, had sent ripples through time. Like a butterfly's wings creating a hurricane, my meddling had altered events far beyond my control. And now someone I cared for was paying the price for my arrogance.

  Wait. MIA, not KIA. My mind latched onto that distinction like a lifeline.

  I bolted past Finch toward his back room, ignoring his startled protest. The familiar star cluster glowed above the workstation, casting ethereal patterns across the empty space where Lira usually lounged. I yanked out my pad, fingers flying as I connected to Finch's network.

  "Karen, access the Union's database."

  "Warning: Union networks are heavily encrypted. Detection risk: substantial."

  "Override safety protocols. Authorization Mell-Seven-Zero."

  "Accessing." Karen's interface flickered. "Firewall breached. Database acquired."

  Finch appeared beside me, eyes wide. "How did you—"

  "Search parameters: Avery Marrow, last known mission details," I commanded.

  "Processing. Mission log fragmented. Detecting subcutaneous tracking implant, similar to model M-Z13 in your cerebral cortex."

  My hands clenched. "Can you connect?"

  "Union systems failed due to quantum interference. Attempting enhanced protocols... Connection established."

  Finch gripped the edge of the console. "She's alive?"

  "Confirmed. Vital signs stable." Karen displayed a rotating hologram. "Location: Unnamed moon, coordinates 227.445 by 893.112. Territory currently controlled by faction designated 'The Blue Owls.'"

  I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. The Blue Owls. Not ideal, but far from the worst possible scenario. They had a code, twisted, but predictable. More importantly, they could be reasoned with.

  "Finch," I said, running calculations in my head, "we need a ship... and a lot of credits."

  His eyes lit up with manic intensity. Without a word, he bolted toward the back room, his short legs carrying him faster than I'd ever seen him move. The familiar initiation sequence of a small-scale freighter hummed through the walls, making the floor vibrate beneath my feet.

  Something gnawed at me though. That moon was uninhabited last time I checked.So why was I getting interference on the signal? And what was that faint motion in the dust? The pirates wouldn't bother to use scramblers, would they?

  Anyway, getting to their territory wasn't the hard part. The Blue Owls might be criminals, but they had standards. They didn't kill without reason, and they valued their deals above all else. If we could offer the right price, Avery would be back before dinner.

  I pulled up the sector map on my pad, marking potential routes. The coordinates placed her deep in disputed space, but that area held something else of interest. Something that could give me leverage when the Union finally came knocking.

  A soft meow drew my attention. Mylo sat at my feet, tail curled neatly around his paws, staring up with those impossibly deep eyes.

  "Well Mylo, looks like we'll be going back to space sooner than expected."

  His ears twitched in what might have been agreement or annoyance. Hard to tell with void entities pretending to be cats.