And the conversation with Sveta Karelia had been had with Number Zero and then broadcasted to the others in dreams. Their member with a newborn conscience had seized on that, replaying it and processing it in depth, alongside a dozen other similar memories and incidents. Glimmers suggested they had done research, looked into things. Information picked up there had bled into the rest of the set as ambient knowledge and memories.

In the background, Jeanne was asking if people had colleagues they could call or resources they could tap.

She got her response, but for once, Four wasn’t paying attention to her, despite the fact she was very close to being perfect. He didn’t pay attention to Breakthrough’s suggestion at releasing specific prisoners.

Not until he came to his resolution. He pulled off his glasses and cleaned them with a microfiber cloth, working through the thought.

This raid would be a chance to tidy things up, and make the irregular regular. Everything in order.

“Good. Let’s hope that’s enough,” Jeanne said. “Let’s prepare.”

Dying 15.1

I fast-walked down the alleyway, hands in my coat pockets, head down, making my footsteps heard. My breath fogged in the air, slow and measured, and freezing rain pattered down around me, soaking the top of my hood and the shoulders of my coat.

“Hey!” a man shouted. “You have no business back here!”

Four men, all gathered around a hatchback car, one of the shittier ones that had been made after Gold-Morning. All men wore the typical garage-worker, loading-dock style coveralls, along with heavy coats and hats. They glittered with light where the big lights that illuminated the loading bay caught the droplets of frozen rain on their gear.

The set of alleyways was shaped like a question mark, with the entry into the alleys being somewhere around the dot or tail end, a few parking spots at the top end, and these guys located at the part that was furthest in. Loading bay doors were partially closed beside them.

The rain stopped hitting my shoulders and hood as I saw them.

Their part of the alley was narrower, and as I entered the space, the walls were close enough that the Wretch could reach out and touch both, carving furrows both narrow and broad into brickwork.

“Shit!” one of them shouted. He bolted for the car. There was a flash of silver as he pulled on the door, and the back of the car came free, landing in his lap, smacking him in the face.

The other three men ran to the car. I could see what they were after. Tools or—

No. Tinker guns.

A flash of white instead of silver, above. I pushed out with my aura, being careful with the range, only catching two of the men with it as a consequence.