As I walk out of the triad, Ms. Plasata turns and smiles politely at me. I give her a small nod as I pass by her desk, bomber jacket neatly folded over one arm.

  “Good afternoon, Mir Losha. How was your check up?” She hesitsates slightly at ‘check up.’ I guess she must have assumed that it was an alias, which, granted, would not be inaccurate.

  “It went… well,” I reply. “You can just call me Rowan, though.”

  Her eyes widen, from surprise or nervousness.

  “Oh, no, Mir Losha. I couldn’t—”

  “Really, it’s fine. I prefer to skip the formalities among friends,” I say, before realizing what I just said. Her face turns a cu… colorful shade of pink.

  “I, um, I meant to say outside of, uh, work,” I stammer quickly, praying that I’m not blushing too hard. From embarrassment. Not a word, Minerva.

  “Oh. Right… I mean, of course!” She almost squeaks.

  I can’t help it. A small smile flutters across my face as I look at her expression. She opens her mouth again, then closes it, opens it again, closes it again. We stand there for a minute, just staring awkwardly at each other, neither person sure what to say next. The late afternoon sun streams in through the tall windows, casting her in vibrant light that would look harsh on most people, but somehow doesn’t on her.

  “Well, I hope you have a good day,” she says at last, before adding, “Rowan.”

  “And to you,” I reply. I can tell there’s something more she wants to say, but I don’t pry. Still, a thought occurs to me, and I find myself blurting it out before I can think it through.

  “By the way, I never got your name.”

  She manages to blush even harder, somehow, than before. I realize that might have been a silly thing to say.

  “Er, your first name,” I clarify. Out of the corner of my eye, I see an older man look up from his holoscreen in amusement, before returning to whatever he was reading.

  “Marrise,” she pips. “It’s Marrise.”

  “Marrise,” I say. “Nice to meet you, Marrise.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Rowan.” The edge of her nervousness softens a little, and she offers me a smile, a genuine one this time.

  I smile back, waving goodbye. “Well, I’ll see you later,” I say as I turn and make for the exit, realizing once again that I misspoke. Oh well. It would be more awkward to correct myself, and ‘see you later’ is not exactly untrue.

  Mhm, Minerva hums in my ear.

  Not like that! I mean, the chances that I never go to the hospital again are slim, and we live in the same city and all that… You know what, forget it.

  I push the door open, hesitating for a moment as the sunlight sweeps across its glass surface, giving me a final glimpse of the lobby and Marrise behind her desk, still staring in my direction, smiling faintly.

  Then, I’m out in the delicate breeze, already having to squint from the glare of the pale concrete that begins a few yards from where I’m standing, out of the shade of the tall hospital building. It leaves a chill on my skin despite the warmth of the sun. I walk down the stairs, embarking on the path to… Where am I going?

  Good question.

  I turn my head, searching for whoever spoke to me for a full second before realizing my folly.

  Maybe the Hive has some sort of setting to make you look like you’re actually standing in one location, I think at Minerva.

  It probably does, but you would be better off getting used to just hearing me speak in your head in general, even without a visual stimulus.

  One step at a time. For now, we need to figure out where we’re going. I’ve stopped walking, since it would be silly to start along one path without knowing if it’s the right one, and now I’m just standing in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot.

  You are an idiot.

  Not helpful.

  Let’s see… Today is… Thursday? Thursday. By now, school is definitely already out, but I’ve got bigger things on my plate anyways. I could go back to training… I wince. The thought makes me want to curl up into a ball and hide from the world.

  Fair enough, Minerva acquiesces. Why don’t we go back to your apartment, so you can try on your new outfit?

  I think my face actually visibly lights up at that.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Oh yeah, I totally forgot about that! I almost squeal at her mentally.

  Right. You completely forgot about the ultra-advanced tech suit custom-made by the executive officer of the States and probably worth billions. Because you were talking to a girl.

  A cute girl, I correct. And it wasn’t that!

  Then what was it, hmm?

  …

  Right, well, let’s get walking. We don’t have all day, and if we don’t speed up it’ll get cold out.

  Minerva crosses my avatar’s arms like she’s won an argument. In favor of responding, she pulls up a map on the side of my vision, the route home already planned out on it. I start walking as I study it, taking a right at the first intersection and then making my way down the pristine streets of Palise.

  By the time I reach the dim reprieve of my apartment, my eyes are sore from squinting at the sparkling pavement. Gods damn the self-cleaning mechanisms present in every corner of this city. Like most things here, they’re courtesy of Innova. Innova all but built the city from scratch. Basically, we’re the world’s grandest success story of capitalism to date. Not that that means much, relatively speaking. Palise is practically the leading city in everything. With the sole exception of the tallest building record. I hear that one goes to Yorklite.

  More than anything, I’m tired. So tired, I almost toss my jacket on the couch the instant my shoes are off. Minerva, thankfully, catches me before I can do something as stupid as taking the brand-new, utterly invaluable item gifted to me cleverly hidden beneath said jacket and throwing it across my room.

  You’re welcome.

  The lights are off, and the natural light is just beginning to wane, the final dregs of daylight sloppily splashing through the small window on the far side of the room. I find the light switch with one hand, flip it on.

  I fumble around to stow away my keys and free one hand to lock the door, scanning the room as I do. I have an unexplainable fear that one day I’ll come back to my apartment and some stranger will be sitting on my sofa waiting for me.

  You watch too many movies, Minerva says.

  “Yeah, I definitely do,” I agree. “Wait, can’t you sense if anything is nearby?”

  I can detect heat signatures and minute movements, yes.

  “So you can confirm that no one is hiding in my home waiting to ambush me?”

  Except for the one behind that bookshelf?

  Wait, wha— my eyes swivel to the indicated piece of furniture.

  Heh, made you look.

  “I thought you’re supposed to be, like, the world’s most advanced technological achievement. Why is the culmination of human progress for the last however many thousands of years is pulling the ‘made you look’ stunt,” I grumble.

  Avatar me crosses their arms and smirks triumphantly. Whatever.

  The door locked, I finally stride over to the couch and sit down, carefully lifting my jacket off of my arm, where it was positioned perfectly to hide an inconspicuous small white bag. Just looking at the small black case inside it sends a buzz of excitement through my body, the thought of what it means for everything I’ve come to accept over the course of my life.

  Yes, I know it’s not an actual Augment in the sense of being physically integrated with my body, but that doesn’t matter. For the first time in my life, I own a piece of Autopilot technology. In the corner of my vision, I see Minerva smiling too.

  I gently slide the bag off my arm, noting the white indented band on the top of my forearm from where the heavy thing rested on my walk home. Nestled inside is an unmarked container about the size and thickness of my hand. The surface is smooth metal, though somehow it has enough grip not to slide out of my grasp when I pull it out and onto my lap. I set the bag down on the cushion beside me, returning my focus fully to the item in front of me.

  It seems like a rectangular prism of solid ebony. Despite its small size, the case exudes a sense of power, a weight beyond just physical.

  You remember how to open it?

  “Yeah,” I say.

  Don’t hesitate.

  “I know.” My hand is still.

  What is wrong with me? I should be excited. I am excited. I’ve wanted an Augment my whole life, and now I’ve got one. So why am I hesitating?

  Slowly, on three, Minerva says, her voice gentle. I nod.

  One… I take a deep breath, trying to calm my mind. Two… I feel Minerva tug at my arm, nudging me to lift it. I do as she says. Three. I bring my thumb down to meet the surface of the box in the center. It feels no different from the rest of the metal case, but Dr. Ocavey was very specific with his instructions, and I trust hi—

  “Gah!” I yelp, almost jolting in my seat at the sudden prick of pain on my finger. I resist the urge to flinch away, Minerva aiding me in keeping my hand firmly in place.

  When he said it would only hurt a ‘little,’ I think we had a very different understanding of the definition of that word from him.

  Yeah, no kidding. Still, as I watch, my eyes widen in fascination. It was less a prick and more a cut, because I can see red welling up from a thin line on the side of my finger as well. What really catches my attention is the blood on the surface of the box, sinking into it and then… spreading, for lack of a better word.

  In the back of my mind, I feel Minerva nudge my hand again — right, I forgot to count. She must have kept time for me; Ocavey said I would only need to keep my hand in place for seven seconds. I remove my thumb from the spot, watching one last drop of blood splash onto the center and sink into the metal.

  As I watch, thin lines of red begin to spread from the center, looping and scrawling to each of the four corners before branching off to create a border around the front surface. As the last of the lines settle into place and link around each other, the design pulses with electric blue light, then pulses again, and again, faster and faster and brighter and brighter until I have to look away to protect my eyes.

  When the light finally dies down, I cautiously let my gaze settle on the case again. The intricate pattern is a vibrant, faintly glowing violet. In the center is a solid amethyst oval the size of my thumb, with a simple letter R left its initial dark hue.

  Rowan, look.

  I drag my focus from the beautiful cover to where Minerva is pointing with my avatar. On the right side of the case is now a small clasp.

  Open it.