"Blank," Oishi gasped, clutching her skull. "He's… nothing. I can't feel him."

The simulation began. Hiroko moved with surgical precision, taking down two sentries with silent darts. Oishi flowed like a ghost, her empathy disorienting a third gunman into dropping his weapon, convinced he was being watched by his dead mother.

"It's the only fact that matters," Oishi grinned, tapping her own G-mark. "That's why we're both 'G.' You see the pattern. I see the soul inside it."