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As Vexx’s click-click-click faded into the rainy night, Spline lay on the cold floor, trapped in his own slow hell. He had cracked the code. He had beaten time itself.

“One last cook,” he muttered.

Ghost Step was ready.

His lab was a converted fermentation vat in the old Soda District. Inside, a bioreactor hummed, culturing a synthetic neural gel that shimmered like liquid mercury. Spline’s fingers, tipped with data-spikes, danced over a cracked holoscreen. Lagofast Crack

He yanked a diagnostic cable from the wall and, without hesitating, stabbed the jack into the port behind his own ear. A cold shiver ran down his spine as his HUD flickered to life. As Vexx’s click-click-click faded into the rainy night,