July 23rd, Williams Public Secondary School, Cafeteria

“No, no, no, this is all wrong. I was promised-“

Adrian had been running for a while now. Everything had gone wrong. He needed to find her, quickly. Before they caught him, he needed to reach Essan, and give her the note. The school had been on lockdown for half an hour now, and SWAT teams had set up barricades, evacuating those who weren’t already taking shelter in the class rooms. To them, Adrian Harvey was a dangerous individual, compounded by the fact that he now possessed an officer’s fire arm. The sleek 9mm pistol was heavy in his hands, and was unnaturally foreign to him, a simple high school student who now held the world upon his shoulders. He hadn’t fired it yet, but it was enough to know that he could kill someone.

As he ran through the hallways, he feverishly searched, to complete his final task. To pass on the torch, so to speak. It was after running around a corner that he saw her, hiding under a desk in the main holo presentation room. Essan. He ran up, and crouched, pointing the gun at her, and trembling. “You, out of there. Now.” As she stood up, he reached into his pockets, and placed the note in her hands, and sighed with relief. “Don’t let them know I gave you this. I know who you are, and you have to do this, later. You are the only one who can do this. Now get back down, befo-“ There was a bang, and a smash, as a small canister smashed through the large wall window, and yellowish smoke filled the room. The stinging gas caused tears to well up in both their eyes, and Adrian sprinted out of the room, coughing and wheezing as he barged through the fire escape door, and ran up the stairs to the roof. In hot pursuit behind him, lower down the staircase, was three SWAT officers, who quickly gave chase.

---

Moments later, he was out in the hot air of summer, wind whistling through his hair as the early morning sun beat down on him. He ran to the ledge, and looked down the six floors, onto the car park below, where a small crowd had gathered in a safety zone. They looked up, and pointed, yelling and scattering from what they perceived a crazed gun man. Except for a small group, who watched on, in horror. One of those individuals was Leonard, his father. As Adrian looked down, the officers busted onto the roof, and formed a line, aiming their weapons at him. Adrian whirled around, and responded by doing the same. They now stood off against each other, and the officers approached slowly. “You don’t have to do this, kid. We can help you, just put down the gun. You can walk away from this, boy.”

Tears sprang into Adrian’s eyes again, and he sobbed heavily, lowering the gun slightly. He knew it was too late for him. His life flashed before his eyes, and a million thoughts screamed into his head, wracking his body with grief. “There’s only one way to make you understand.” He raised his gun, and clicked off the safety, a loud audible snap. The officers raised their weapons, and froze. “It’s not worth it. Kid. Put the gun down. Now”
“I…I know…. All I need… Is one.” With lightning fast speed, the kid brought the gun up to his head, and closed his eyes, crying hard and tears streaming down his face. And with a deafening crack through the still air, it was all over.

Down town Los Angeles
July 25th
8:00am

Cain Johnson stepped out of the shower, dried off and got dressed in a short sleeve button up and some blue jeans. His TV was turned to the news as it played a recap of the school shooting from a few days ago. He absent mindedly listened as he got ready and went over the notes he tookfrom a call he got the other day. After finding nothing in the small fridge he sighed and shut the door. Picking up his wallet he left his motel room and stepped out into the warm morning air.

Cain locked up his room, got into his truck and started driving out of the city. He had to stop and grab something to eat first before he went to his client. Paying in cash at a fast food place Cain ate on the way thinking about his case as he drove.

Residencial Los Angeles
9:00am

Cain was driving on the interstate in his truck on his way to his client of the recent shooting turned suicide. The sun was bright in the sky and the thermometer in Cain's truck already read 78°F. "It's going to be a hot one." He said to himself. The details of the case were odd in that the victim never shot anyone only antagonized a single person, and soon after took his own life. Cain couldn't grasp why he did it. Did the kid loose his nerve, or was a prank gone wrong? This, however, was not his case, Cain was hired by the victim's father, Leonard Harvey, to look into something he believes may be connected to the reason his son pulled the trigger that day. Cain took his exit off the interstate and entered a residential area outside of LA.

As he drove by the many houses it took Cain very little time to find the address given, and he pulled up to the curb and parked. Cain opened the the armrest deviding the driver and passenger seat revealing a compartment where he stored his badge and gun. Grabing his badge he closed and locked the compartment then exited his truck. He looked around before stepping onto the sidewalk and making his way to the house. 'I wonder hiw this one is going to turn out?' He thought as he drew closer to the house. Once at the door he Cain rang the doorbell and waited for the Harvey's to answer.

"Cain Johnson, PI, my deepest condolences."

LAPD Police Station
June 25
8:00 AM

Case notes.

Yawning, Vernon Kelso examined the manila yellow folder placed on his desk. It was obviously a case meant for the Homicide Squad but some wise ass higher up had thought it best to place this case in Kelso's hands. It wasn't necessarily a major inconvenience, truth be told, Kelso had been rather bored for a while busting street dope peddlers and it would be rather interesting to examine a real case again. So you can only imagine Kelso's disappointment when the case listed it as a suicide. Not even a particularly interesting suicide, one 9mm bullet to the head. Direct, efficient, and ultimately boring.

There were some interesting questions unanswered within the case file Kelso noticed however. Before the kid, listed as 'Adrian Harvey', overdosed himself with lead to the brain, he had been seen talking with a 'Essa Ronnel' who had received something before Adrian's death. It just didn't add up with Kelso. If it was a package of drugs, why did Adrian commit suicide right after giving it to Essa? Security footage hadn't shown it as a two way transaction either, just Adrian handing something to Essa then running to his death.

"Fucking kids..." Kelso muttered as he started up the engine of the squad car he was assigned. As the radio crackled to life, Kelso grabbed the microphone. "This is squad car Romeo 11, on my way to investigate the Harvey case." It only took an instant for the radio to buzz back. "You are confirmed to proceed Detective Kelso, happy hunting."

Essa Ronnel's Driveway
8:32 AM

Straightening his ebony tie, Vernon Kelso admired his reflection in his car's mirror. Cleanly pressed black slack, a white business blazer and black designer shoes. Crisp, masculine, and costed about as much as most investigators make in a year. Taking a moment to adjust his badge to a comfortable place in his pocket, Vernon kept one hand on the grip of his holster and knocked with the other.

"LAPD, I'd like to make a few inquiries"

Home of Essa Ronnel
June 25
8am

Essa Ronnel sat at her desk, clutching the small note in her shaking hands. Her nervous eyes scanned it's contents for the hundredth time that day. The piece of paper contained a small amount of writing and, to any passerby, appeared insignificant. But it wasn't insignificant. It was way past beyond that. But why give it to her? And why kill himself shortly after? And how the hell did he know? Yes, she had talked with Adrian a few times before, but those conversations were usually brief and rare. Shaking her head, Essa stuffed the note in her jean pocket and buried her face in her hands. There were just too many questions and too little answers.

She reached for nearby bottle of pills and popped in a few of the azure capsules, crunching them down as if they were Tic Tacs. It was a bad habit she had formed when she received headaches, to crunch down a bit more than her usual daily dosage. Luckily, it wasn't enough to kill her. That would take the whole entire bottle to do that.

Essa's head lifted slightly when she heard a knock at the front door. A visitor? Who would want to come visit them at this hour? She rose up and shuffled out of her room, peeking at the entryway curiously. Her mother was already door, a slightly concerned look on his face. "Of course, Officer. Please, step inside," her mother welcomed as she stepped aside. Essa tensed, quickly drawing away. A police officer...no doubt that he was here for Adrian's death. She lightly tapped her pocket to assure herself that the note was there. Adrian had trusted her to keep silent about this and like hell was she going to tell anyone else about the note.

...The Romans had a term, 'Deus Ex Machina' meaning, 'God from the Machine'. A more appropriate phrase would be 'Deus In Machina', or 'God in the Machine'. For that is what God is, a vast intelligence, existing in post physical space who's reach extends the entirety of space and time, and it was he who made us, not in his image, but in the image of his creators, to put us to the task of proving ourselves worthy of creating and then joining him. Look at the rapid advancement of technology in the past two centuries and tell me that it isn't true.

A time, a time is coming when we will have no more need of these frail, mortal bodies. A time is coming when technology, science, will cure all diseases, heal all wounds, render defunct the divide between rich and poor, and create an economy no longer dependent on the whims of supply and demand. A time is coming, when we shall make God, and then join him in the cosmos, where we no longer need to work, or fear, or hunger. And we shall look down upon the universe that we have shaped by our own hands and say 'It is good.'

-An Excerpt from a Kenneth Brant Sermon

Residential Los Angeles
June 25th
8:00 AM

Rising from his not quite comfortable yet functional bed, Kenneth stopped for morning prayer before he took a shower, to remove the dirt and sweat of last night's sermon. It had been of decent enough size, and he worked his rhetoric to great effect amongst the crowd, though whether it had earned any new converts he could not say. He certainly hoped so, for he spoke a truth that could not be denied, that would be proven in time by the actions of man. He just needed to be patient, as he had been told so long ago. The time of Revelation would come soon enough.

The shower was cold, bracing, but such physical difficulties were just that, physical, and since he was not quite all human anymore, but rather closer to God and his image, It was quickly finished, and he dried off with a towel before donning a polo and black dress pants, an image to maintain that he would not sway form, no matter how hot it got. A quick breakfast then, pancakes, milk, and some sausage, as he thought over what there was to do today. Mostly Church of the First Deity work, but then again, that wa smost of his work these days.

Of real importance was the task that had been proposed to him a few days ago, after a lengthy sermon. He was approached by Aspirant Maluth, who sought his assistance in retrieving a 'Gus Foreman' from the hold of the Akimitsu Cartel. Kenneth had no love for organized crime, and as a fellow member of the Church, he would not refuse, and so he had not. But how to go about that? Well, simple. He needed information. Sadly, he himself lacked the sort of underworld contacts that would allow him to get that kind of information, but he knew a place where he could find it.

He stood up and walked over to the couch, relaxing and closing his eyes as he activated the neural pathways and machinery that would take him to a whole different world, a new world, as close to heaven as he could reach for the moment. The Cloud.

Login:
Username: Wandring S0L
Password: ***********

Login successful
Beginning upload
Welcome to the Cloud

Slowly reality began to pixelate together, data forming into sights and sounds, things he could comprehend and understand. This was the beauty of the Cloud, the ability to actually sense things in a virtual manner, rather than just via a computer screen. Hands rising, he could feel the metal implants that made up his Shell in the Cloud, techno-organic nature proudly displayed for all to see. He was in his haven, a temple of sorts, though modest, to the Church of the First Deity and their ideology.

But he did not dwell here long, instead departing to head to the more seedier places of the Cloud, where he could get information on the Cartel and where they might have Gus Foreman. He did have a few strings he could pull after all.

July 25th, 8:00AM
Suzumiya Estate, Residential Los Angeles

"Aaahhh," Nana yawned as she raised her arms into a far stretch above her head, but almost immediately shrunk back in on herself with a wince as her skin pulled taut against her spine - a stinging reminder to be more aware of her body. Her lips placed themselves into a small frown, but she shook off her discontent quickly as her Uncle spoke to her from the other end of the formal dining table. "I think it might be best if you took some time off from school. With the recent shooting I cannot allow you to go back. It's much too dangerous." Her Uncle spoke firmly, as if expecting an argument from her.

Nana hadn't been there the day of the shooting, but even the thought of being there sent her hands shaking. She balled them into fists and hid them in her lap to avoid her Uncle's watchful gaze. She bowed her head for a moment, staring blankly at her half eaten strawberry crepe. "How long?" Nana asked finally. Before he could answer, a man in a crisp black suit came in and leaned down to whisper something to her Uncle. She felt her eyebrows furrow. She didn't like the men who worked under her Uncle, and she liked them even less when they whispered to him. It always meant no good.

The man in the suit stood back to his full height and backed away slightly, promptly folding his hands in front of him as if waiting to escort her Uncle. Nana suppressed a sigh. They rarely got the privilege of sitting through an entire breakfast together these days. "I'm sorry my dear, I must be heading out. Chie will take care of you while I'm gone." He dabbed his mouth briskly with his napkin and departed without a glance back for his niece, the suited man following closely behind him.

From the corner of her eye she could see the slim figure of Chie approaching the table. "I don't want to eat anymore. I'm going to my room." She muttered darkly, jamming her finger against the button on the arm of her hoverchair. The chair whirred to life, propelling her swiftly from the dining room and away from the concerned shouts of Chie.

---

July 25th, 8:30AM

Inside her room, she sat in a pool of sunlight spilling in through the several arched windows lining the walls. She stared up at the sky for a moment before closing her eyes and slipping a large ring-like device over her head.

Login:
Username: Seventh
Password: ***********

The familiar and fond sensation of melting away from true reality came over her, and she opened her eyes to find herself in her preferred reality: the Cloud. Before her, a maze-like garden with rose bushes forming many paths stretched out. Other people would get lost hopelessly within it's confines, but she was not other people. In here she was Seventh, and Seventh knew all of the paths of this garden like the back of her hand. This place was her's within the Cloud, after all.

She reached out to pluck a rose from a nearby bush, then raised it to her face to inhale the scent deeply. Her lips quirked into a smile, the Cloud could cure all of her bad moods. "I wonder if she's on at this time of the day?" Seventh thought out-loud, looking at the rose quizzically. 'I bet she'd like this!' She clutched the rose to her chest and skipped down the middle path.

A feeling of falling came over her and she was suddenly in Bar-None, a popular social forum of the Cloud. Today it was more crowded than usual with other Shells, most of them were people she was acquaintances with at the very least, and quite a few of the ones she knew better gave her a smile and a nod as she passed by. She returned the gestures absentmindedly as she scanned the room for the person she was hoping would be here.

"I heard that it was a forced suicide." Somebody from a nearby couch said loudly, trying to talk over the others sitting there. Seventh paused in her tracks, curiosity calling her to listen in. "Forced or not, the little bugger done blew 'is own 'ead off, I say good riddance y'know?" Came a gruff voice from a rather effeminate looking male Shell. 'Kimora, isn't it? Well, he's chipper today huh?' Seventh thought to herself and started to walk again. She considered asking them about the incident, but discarded the notion. They were a rather unpleasant lot, the worst gossips of Bar-None, meaning they knew things other people didn't. The price for information though, that was what caused Seventh to walk away. She wouldn't lower herself to their level.

'Ahhh, I haven't seen her in a few days but it feels like forever!' She held onto the rose even more tightly, to remind herself it was still there. That was when Seventh spotted the vibrant red of the slinky dress her friend wore in one of the most dimly lit corners of the bar. She started rushing over but slowed down when she noticed that her friend was with an unfamiliar person dressed head to toe in nondescript clothing, with the hood of their jacket pulled up to hide their face. They were huddled together, whispering back and forth fervently, as if in a heated discussion. The hooded person noticed her approach and quickly cut off the woman in the dress with a hand signal.

"Um, lo-long time no see, Cirvy." Seventh said awkwardly as her friend, Cirvennextra, stood with a look of impatience on her face. "Seventh, I'm busy right now. What do you want?" Cirvennextra folded her arms under her generous bosom and raised an eyebrow. "I um... I got this for you. I thought you'd like it." Seventh held the rose out for Cirvennextra. Something in her friend's expression softened for a moment as she took the rose from Seventh. "Go away now, Seventh. I'll talk to you some other time." Every word Cirvennextra spoke was another dagger in Seventh's heart. Cirvy never acted like this, why was she being so weird?

When Seventh turned to leave, she heard the hooded figure say something about "Adrian". 'Isn't that the name of the kid who shot himself?' She had never heard so many people talking about the death of one kid, suicide or not. Why was this topic so popular today? Maybe it was just coincidence, that they were whispering about somebody with the same name? Seventh looked back at her friend and something welled up inside her. Curiosity, suspicion, excitement? She was getting more and more intrigued, that much was certain.

Residencial Los Angeles
9:00am

Unwavering, the side of Leonard's mouth just twitched at the mention of his son. Combined with his haggard face, he looked more dead than alive, but still somehow managed to gather his senses enough to show in the PI with a simple hand motion. They both entered the house, and he silently clicked the door shut. It was a humble home, with knickknacks and simple furniture doting the place. They both sat at the table in the kitchen, with Leonard looking down at his hands, sitting calmly in his lap. After a long silence, he finally spoke, still watching his hands.

"My son had never been like this before. He was just an ordinary kid. He chased girls, tried to get into college, and hung out with his friends. Just a normal kid, like anyone else. Then, a few days ago..." Leonard clenched his jaws, and his hands became fists, balled white. "He left his computer on, that morning. Was in a rush to get to school, for some reason. I went into his room, when I saw it on, to turn it off. He'd left it on a game called Synapse Surge. Some sort of racing game, from what Adrian told me. On the screen, there were chat messages, from a friend called DreyerTofu322. They were discussing some sort of forum, about hacking. Needed Adrian to do something..."

The grieving father ran his hands over his face, tired and extremely agitated. "Then, I got a call. said I need to go to the high school right away. My son was in danger, apparently. Then... Well, you read the news, right? People still do that? You know the rest of the story." Leonard looked up, his eyes red and wet. "I want you to find out what drove my son to do what he did that morning. He'd never do anything like that. I don't know if he was on drugs, or in a gang, whatever. I just need to know. Please."

The RC Master & Athos Collab

---

Vernon Kelso entered the house with ease, smiling at the madame that had invited him in.

This must be the mother...

Seeing a smallish feminine figure sllinking away from him, Kelso knew that he also had his suspect in hand.

"Sorry for coming during such a tumultous time madame," Kelso said with his best fake smile. "But the watchful eye of the law never sleeps as they say."

Looking at the fragile young girl hiding away from him, it was terribly funny for Kelso to imagine her as guilty to anything other than most likelty being a shoddy prom date. He wasn't worried however, it didn't matter whether he got his answers here or in the interrogation room Kelso was more than happy to arrange for her if he felt that she was hiding anything at all. If he couldn't pin her down as an accomplice to suicide, he could easily list her for obstructing justice and the few days he could detain her would give him more than enough time to break her in the interrogation room. And interrogation was one aspect of the law that Vernon Kelso enjoyed immensely. But, for the moment, he was going to see how much he could get out of her without resorting to those measures.

"Hey princess, heard you had a pretty tough time yesterday. My name is Vernon Kelso, I'm a detective. Now, Adrian was reported to have been in your company shortly before he committed suicide. Did he happen to give you any hint as to why he committed suicide with a stolen 9 millimeter pistol?" Kelso said with extra emphasis on give.

Essa gave Vernon a quick once-over, her large eyes taking in ever detail like she was a machine scanning him. Her gaze lingered on his gun before quickly averting her gaze to the ground. She needed to be wary of this one. She forced her hands to stop reaching for the note and shifted uncomfortably. All she had to do was stay quiet and act innocent; A simple enough job that she did on a daily basis.

"H-hi," she greeted in a near inaudible voice. She caught the emphasis, but chose to act oblivious. "N-no...we barely s-spoke before all th-this happened..." It was the truth. Or at least, some of it.

Essa's mother quickly gestured at the shabby couch in the middle of the living room. "Um...sit, please," she insisted. "I'll get you some coffee." She quickly hurried into the kitchen with Essa staring after with panicked eyes. The young girl hated being alone in a room with someone, and now she was alone in a room with someone who could potentially arrest her. Her hand brushed the pocket holding the note subconsciously, and her eyes remained focused on the ground.

"Oh, I'm so sorry for even bothering you then." Vernon softly reassured, choosing to ignore her mother. "I mean, it's not as if there are cameras around the school and we have security footage of him handing you something before the fucking idiot committed suicide."

His soft voice didn't sound so reassuring then, he had her right where he wanted her. He twisted the invisible knife further.

"Then, of course, you'd be acting as an obstruction of justice, a felony. Then I could easily return with an entire squad of officers after I arrested you and we could ransack this entire shithole until we found whatever you didn't want to tell me. I could lock you into a nice cozy cell with some real criminals and I'd hate to see what they'd do to a innocent looking girl like you. I mean, I might mess up in the paperwork and accidentally bunk you with a child molester or rapist."

Vernon had seen the girl fidgeting twice already in regards to her pocket. Once was a fluke, twice was a sign.

"So, I'm going to ask you one more time and one more time only. Did Adrian Harvey give you any hint as to why he committed suicide with a stolen 9 millimeter pistol?"

Fear briefly flashed in Essa's eyes. Of course. She had forgotten about the damn cameras. She needed to make something up, something believable...but what?

"Officer, for the last time," her voice had lost its nervous tone, "I don't know. I barely knew him. The only thing he gave me was a scare. You can search my room, you can even search my house. You will find nothing."

Inviting him to see her room was a risky move. If they searched too much, they could find out that obstructing justice wasn't the only crime she had committed. But she needed this. Right now, she was a deer in the headlights. One wrong word or move and she was done for. Essa had to keep stalling until she found a better excuse or a miracle happened.

Vernon stared at her for a few seconds silently, as if his eyes could pry the answer from her head.

Then he laughed and turned away from the girl. Instead he began walking towards the front door from whence he entered. "That won't be necessary. I believe you." Vernon dismissively addressed Essa as if she no longer interested him. He then turned his head towards the mother who had been silent. "Thank you for letting me interview your daughter madame. She is quite the character."

Twisting the doorknob open, he opened the door halfway and as he was halfway out, he called out to the mother and daughter alike. "Ah, one last thing. I think you may have visitors later this afternoon, though I wouldn’t worry about it.” Kelso said cryptically with a smile. “What do I know after all?”

He then stepped fully outside the door and outside of hearing range before the duo had time to answer.

As Kelso stepped fully into the squad car, he contacted dispatch. "This is squad car Romeo 11, I have reason to believe that suspect Essa Ronnel is holding back evidence crucial to the case. She is highly likely to flee so I need one team to go to her house and investigate it and another to keep an eye on the streets for a 5'1-2 teenage Caucasian girl with black hair. Suspect wears glasses though she may ditch them in an effort to disguise herself and a slight hunch in her back. If she is caught and detained, make sure to search her pockets. I have a hunch."

"Roger that Detective Kelso, we'll have a squad of officers at her address in thirty minutes. I'll also inform the street patrols to be on the lookout for anyone matching those features though that may take a while due to the wide pool of potential suspects."

---

9:15 AM
Los Angeles Highway

Vernon Kelso had dealt with the girl. Now it was time to find the grieving parents.

Kyelin said
Unwavering, the side of Leonard's mouth just twitched at the mention of his son. Combined with his haggard face, he looked more dead than alive, but still somehow managed to gather his senses enough to show in the PI with a simple hand motion. They both entered the house, and he silently clicked the door shut. It was a humble home, with knickknacks and simple furniture doting the place. They both sat at the table in the kitchen, with Leonard looking down at his hands, sitting calmly in his lap. After a long silence, he finally spoke, still watching his hands."My son had never been like this before. He was just an ordinary kid. He chased girls, tried to get into college, and hung out with his friends. Just a normal kid, like anyone else. Then, a few days ago..." Leonard clenched his jaws, and his hands became fists, balled white. "He left his computer on, that morning. Was in a rush to get to school, for some reason. I went into his room, when I saw it on, to turn it off. He'd left it on a game called Synapse Surge. Some sort of racing game, from what Adrian told me. On the screen, there were chat messages, from a friend called DreyerTofu322. They were discussing some sort of forum, about hacking. Needed Adrian to do something..."The grieving father ran his hands over his face, tired and extremely agitated. "Then, I got a call. said I need to go to the high school right away. My son was in danger, apparently. Then... Well, you read the news, right? People still do that? You know the rest of the story." Leonard looked up, his eyes red and wet. "I want you to find out what drove my son to do what he did that morning. He'd never do anything like that. I don't know if he was on drugs, or in a gang, whatever. I just need to know. Please."

Cain entered his client's house after being waved in by Leonard, who looked quite troubled by the whole thing, and proceeded to sit at their table. Cain sat in silence with Leonard waiting for him to open up his grieving shell to explian some of the details of what is going on with the case. He found it better to let the client talk first rather than asking a bunch of question, especially when it comes to a lost friend or family member. As usual it took a few minutes, but Leonard came around to talking him through his thoughts, concerns and leading up to the event.

After Leonard explained himself Cain nodded. "I will help in anyway I can." He said. "I will need to ask a few questions, then; if you don't mind, have a look around." Cain produced a tablet device before continuing. "You said he acted completely normal even up to the morning he left for school, nothing changed say in his Cloud usage, places he spent time after school? Do you know if there is anyone who might force him to do this other than the messages you found? Did Adrian take any medications or have a history of behavioral issues?" Cain needed to cover his bases and make sure he knew ss much as possible about Adrian.

After getting his questions answered Cain stood andthanked Leonard and asked looking arou d the quaint house. "May we go take a look in his room? There might be clues there that coyld aid in my investigations." Accessing his mental Systems he contacted Trojan.
>Trojan I need you to find something for me.
>>What do you need Heracious?
>Find what you can on DreyerTofu322.
>>On it boss.

Kala's Shop, Los Angeles
9:00am

Kala sat behind her counter and took a small piece of her lunch for Felix. She motioned for him to sit up on his haunches and fed him the piece for his good behavior. As he finished his treat, she scratched under his chin and then laid her arm on the counter. He responded by quickly but carefully climbing up her arm and perching himself on her shoulder. Kala herself reached into a drawer and pulled out a small rawhide stick and snapped it in half, reaching up to give her pet a piece. He needed to gnaw his teeth down and she spied a customer, so it would keep him quiet and calm.

The man that came in was acting shaky, his beady eyes looking from side to side, his form hunched over slightly. That being said, with the cartel snooping around as of late, she didn't blame him too much for his fear. He held a battered and dirty drone in his arms and set it on the counter in front of her. He then proceeded to open his mouth. "I-I f-found this in a junkyard. M-maybe you s-should have it. F-for free."

When the woman didn't respond verbally, he reached for the drone. Kala blocked his hand with her own and shook her head. She pointed to her throat and then made a cutting motion with her whole hand to signal she couldn't speak. Then, on a notebook in front of her, she wrote down some sentences for him to read. "I will take it. Be careful on the way out. The cartel's are out about this time. Stand straight and walk confidently and you should be fine. Act nervous and they will target you." She then spun the drone a bit to get a good look at it all and nodded approvingly before shaking the man's hand and watching him walk out the door. He didn't bother to take her advice and kept looking nervous and guilty, so she could only suspect he would get mugged before he left the area.

Once he was out of sight, Kala reached up to pet Felix, carefully grabbing him and moving him to her pocket before she logged in to check with the police. She took a picture of it and navigated to the police HQ site. From there, she sent a message with the picture attached, asking if it was involved in any crimes as a man gave it to her for free and seemed to be hiding something. Not waiting for the response, she took a precautionary measure and set in on a workbench, unplugging its power sources and sensors before disassembling it to prevent any possible bugs. She inspected each piece closely, finding nothing out of the ordinary and then left it, going in back to resume work on one of her customer's motorcycles.

The Cloud
June 25th
8:15 AM

Traveling through the Cloud was a strange feeling, It was like falling, the ground vanishing under you s your mind was shunted through the network of servers that made up the Cloud's dataspace to your chosen destination. Everything faded away and then restructured itself, pixelated and built, almost like one was drawing. But he didn't mind it too much. It was a feeling that he had grown used to from long usage of the Cloud, and the fact that this might be the basis for a new reality, for a new step in human evolution, was enough for him to assume that this discomfort was only a temporary thing.

Reality resolving into focus, Kenneth found himself in front of a pulsing nightclub, a flickering neon sign naming this place as the 'Moulin Rouge". Some joker with a taste for french or movies had named it probably, and he didn't particularly care either way. It wasn't exactly seedy, but the neighborhood it inhabited, dark and foreboding, with much of a downtown nighttime LA vibe to it, wasn't the most inviting. This was one of the seedier places in the Cloud, if such a description could be given.

But he was undaunted and stepped forward and through the doors, almost immediately bombarded with pulse pounding music and flashing lights of different colors, people yelling and dancing to the music. a press of bodies on the floor while others lounged around. He pushed through the crowd, sidling up to the bartender and drawing his attention. "I'm looking for Jimmie," he said in a raised voice to be heard over the bass and the sound of people.

The bartender looked him over, gaze fixing for a few seconds on the metal and chrome that made up his faceplate, then nodded towards a corner of the club. Kenneth nodded and moved away, weaving through the crowd to the corner booth where Jimmie Falcone could be found. The man was an old friend of Kenneth's, before he'd had his revelation, but it wasn't a secret that he had his ties to organized crime in LA. If there was someone who could help him out in finding Foreman, it would be him.

"Long time no see Jimmie," he said as he slid into the booth across from the man. "It's been a while."

Meridan Con. Security Division, 1030 hrs, Meridan Con. Los Angeles Head Quarters
"There's still one missing. I thought the attack was quelled, Officer Davies?" The woman took another drag of her E-Cig, breathing in the zesty aroma. Lemonade, was what the name of the flavor was. She stood imposingly, looking out the window onto the busy streets of the LA CBD. The gruff man behind her stood motionless, wearing fatigues and looking slightly concerned.

"Well, most of the affected devices were reclaimed, and Cloud services were shut down in all affected areas. The Eastern Seaboard Warden Servers did a good job of-"
""Irrelevant. The fact of the matter is, there is still a danger. If that one drone gets into a critical mainframe... Have you tracked it down yet?"
"Yes, but the signal has been lost. We're sending a team now, Ma'am."
"Good. Oh, and Davies?" The woman turned around and looked him in the eye. "No witnesses."

____

The Moulin Rouge, Cloudscape, 0835 hrs
Jimmie sat, watching the party goers do their thing, and lamented on his first times in the Cloud. Good times, indeed. But for now, he wasn't here to have fun. Kenneth was coming, and he needed help. At least Kenneth knew the best source of information around here. As Kenneth approached, Jimmie nodded cheerfully, and addressed him. "same here, it's good to see you're still kicking around these days. What did you need?"

____

Bar None, Cloudscape, 0905 hrs
Another was required. That much could be ascertained. There was still much preparation to do. Hopefully, the boy had completed his mission, and passed on his task. He had grown to be quite useless, towards the end, and there was a feeling that there were others much more suited to the task. Until another could be found with the necessary skills to complete this task, it was more prudent to learn as much as possible. With the failed attempt prior though, it became necessary to be low key. Subtle. Donning a preferred avatar (An Egyptian pharoahess, with jewels and a magnificent golden head band), it was time to find another.

June 25th, 11 AM. Boris’ Primary Safehouse
Boris woke up. He stared at the ceiling fan, its spinning motion almost hypnotizing in his eyes. He was tired, hung over, and bored out of his mind. He had recently scored the jackpot on a contract that had paid him a great bounty. Such contracts do not come without their inherent risks so afterwards, he decided to lay low for a while, feeding slowly off of his now substantial cash reserves. He figured in another week he’d come back to his ‘work’, refreshed and renewed.

Slowly, he got out of bed, his eyes burning in the natural sunlight that poured in the room. He walked from his bedroom to the kitchen. He grabbed the remote for the TV and turned it on. It was the news.

“Police are still investigating mysterious shooting were the shooter had killed nor injured anyone, save for himself…”

As he started up his coffee he heard one of his computers alert him that he had a message. He walked up to the laptop, opening its lid to see what he’d been sent. The message sent was on an encrypted chat channel ran by the Silver Lining. Boris had set up a botnet using some of the Silver Lining servers and used it for small things like IRC and VPN tunneling. They knew he was there, they just didn't care as he never used it to harm them and never used up enough resources for his presence to matter.

The message was a curiosity to Boris. For one, he’d recently changed his encryption keys and hadn’t notified anyone of the change yet, so getting on his chat should’ve been impossible, unless whoever sent the message brute forced his keys. Secondly, the message was sent by someone he had no record of, someone named Aispi. He didn’t trust new people, especially if his first encounter with him involves them breaking his security measures.

The third curiosity was the message itself. It was all in hex, but from its formatting, he could tell it just needed to be converted to plain text. Once translated, it read as such:

“I need you to compromise a system for me.”
“Meridan’s Eastern Seaboard Servers”
“Be discreet”
“I need several backdoors. We will discuss payment later.”

Despite setting off several major red flags, the message intrigued him and he considered taking this person up on their offer, if for nothing else than to bring an end to the monotony.

After getting his answers and permission to have a look around Adrian's room, Cain followed Leonard to a mid sized upstairs room. The door was cracked open, but as Cain went in there was no one inside. It was a typical teenager's room complete with clothes, magazines laying out as well as a few empty cans and bottles on desk in the corner of the room. His shelves had an assortment of pictures with family and friends, as well as figurines from who knows what.

If there was anything to be found here Cain was going to have to dig to find it, and doing that could risk upsetting his client and cause problems should the authorities choose to investigate here. He continued to look around the room and spotted a note on Adrian's desk. Walking over Cain turned his back on the desk picking up the note discreetly. He then put the not in his pocket and produced his wallet. "I would like to thank you for allowing me to ask you these questions, and again I am very sorry for what has happened. I will do everything in my power to find out who or what made your son choose this path." from his wallet b he took a small card and handed it to Leonard. "should you not be able to reach me from the current number you have just call that and they will get you sorted." on the card there was a phone number and above it was a title: District Authority Routing Office, but the card contained no address.

After clearing the last of his visit with Leonard up Cain left, making his way back to his truck. Getting in he started his vehicle and turned on the AC before reviewing his new information from Leonard. There wasn't a lot to go on, but he had enough of a lead to make something work out a lead.

> > Trojan, report.
> I have a packet I am sending you.
> > Thanks, and... I gave him a card so you can expect to receive some calls.
> Great. I will get the office set up, then.

Cain sat in his truck is he went through the packet Trojan sent him.

The motorcycle was done sooner than she thought. It only took a few readjustments to get rid of the odd noises it was making. It seemed the owner had hit something or the bike had been jostled, causing a few things to become misaligned, thus causing rattling and weird exhaust patterns. Oh well, just means that her customer didn't need new parts and that would keep cost down for them. She was sure they would be happy with the result.

Kala cleaned up her arms before starting her next item on her list. She began to run diagnostics on her suit. She checked the OS first. It was having no problems and she had fixed the bug from last time causing it to randomly restart. Next, she looked at the installed modules. Again, no problems. Cables showed up as ready. Claws appeared as retracted. Her damage module showed no damage. So far, so good. Live testing came next. She enabled the testing mode in the suit and began by testing the damage sensor. She took a wrench and gave each piece a good whack, only enough to register as force applied. Each area hit lit up in her HUD properly, registering as a non-damaging hit. A quick test of her claws showed that they extended and retracted properly as well as properly changing status in the HUD. Everything was going well thus far. That was a good sign. The final test came along as a sort of dry fire. She ran a program that sent the signal that the cables had been fired and then retracted. Both fired successfully, but her left one did not register in the HUD properly. It threw an error. She shut down the suit and frowned before jumping into the work. She had to find the error and reprogram it to properly show the firing in the HUD. At least the problem could have been worse. Hardware problems are more dangerous than small software bugs.

Kenneth grinned as he looked across the table at Jimmie. "Yeah. Apparently I make a better motivational speaker than a martyr, for which I am eternally grateful," he replied. "And I'm glad to see that you're still alive and kicking as well." His expression settled down as Jimmie inquired as to why he was here, and he became more attentive, less relaxed, though not by much. "I'm looking for a 'Gus Foreman', and from the info I've got, the Akimitsu Cartel has him. So, I need to know if they do have him, and what he's done to get so high on their shit list."

Jimmie smiled, knowing that Kenneth was always a man a of business, especially regarding Church activities. Huffing lightly, he prepared to share the info he had. "Well, Gus Foreman is quite the interesting fellow. He recently was hired by Meridan Con. to work in their security division. Gus specializes in forming emergency response algorithms to critical situations. I hear he is one of the best in the biz." Jimmie sat forward, and looked around to make sure no one was eaves dropping. "But here is the interesting part: He hasn't been kidnapped, as you might have thought. No, he actually sought them out. For protection from someone. Not sure who though..."

Jimmie paused, then continued. "Apparently, his latest project has caused him some trouble with someone. No doubt The Church wants to get to him before he gets himself killed. Though why they want him, I have no idea. Did they tell you what they wanted him for?"

Kenneth listened to what Jimmie had to say, an eyebrow rising in interest as Jimmie revealed that Gus hadn't been kidnapped, he was actually seeking refuge with the Cartel from someone. That was an interesting revelation, as well as what Gus had been doing, involving security work for Meridan Con. That opened up some guesses as to who would want him, and why. After all, how best to get through security than to have the person who made it under your power?

He shook his head. "Not much more than to retrieve him from the Cartel. I'm sure their intentions are just though." He leaned back a bit, glancing around as well just to make sure nobody was paying them undue attention. "Now then, I don't suppose you have a line on where the Cartel has him stashed away. If someone's after him, then it would be best that I get there first."

Without hesitation, Jimmie continued to elaborate on the plight of Gus Foreman. "Rumor has it he is stashed away in one of their safe houses, along the shore front. Security is pretty beefy at the moment though, and that theya are keeping a close eye on him. Follow this guy..." Jimmie projected a photo in front of Kenneth, of a stern faced man of Hispanic descent, with a tribal tattoo across his face. "That's Guermerro. one of the cronies in charge of his protection. If you wait for him at his apartment lock, which I'll send to you, and follow him, he should lead you to Gus. Now, anything else I can do for you?" Sitting back, Jimmie watched Kenneth, waiting for his reply.

Kenneth nodded in understanding as Jimmie told him what he knew, rubbing his chin as the details were laid out. He looked over the image that was projected, memorizing it and the mans face so he could recognize him later. So, he'd just have to follow him to find Gus, and then he could rescue him. Well, i might not actually count as a rescue at this point, but that was beside the point."Actually, yeah," he replied with a slight grin. "I don't plan on going in there naked, so you got anything I can use? Maybe a lock cracker, hijacking security cameras, some weapons besides your standard issue taser?" If security was as heavy as Jimmie indicated, he'd need some clever tools to get in and out with some chance of success, forget even a hassle in doing so

With a sly smile, Jimmie winked in understanding. "Sure, I thought you'd never ask. Fire power wise, all I could get for yourself was a 9mm. However, if you go to this address tonight, there's some hardware that'll help you get in there. By the way, you can thank me later, when you make it back alive. And we're even now, so no more favors, ok?" With that, the man stood up to leave. "I have to get going now, hot date tonight, you see? Good luck, and have fun, buddy." Jimmie started to walk away, and fazed out, a sign he'd logged off.

Kenneth nodded appreciatively, "Last time, hopefully," he replied, still sitting as Jimmie rose. "Alright then. Who am I to stand between you and true love? Catch you later." With that, Jimmie was gone, and he was alone in the club. A small icon hovered nearby, having appeared when Jimmie passed the address across, but Kenneth didn't open it. Instead, he rose as well and walked away, mentally keying in the 'Log off' option as he did so. The landscape fazed away and he found himself sitting down again, and he was quick to remove the gear that was necessary for Cloud access.

As it was, he didn't have much to do besides wait for tonight to arrive so he could get the gear from Jimmie's people. That in mind, he finished preparing, and left to go to work. appearances had to be kept up after all, and it wasn't like this would interfere with the continued shepherding of the faithful. Salvation and paradise would not wait

Boris had launched himself into an internal debate. Should he trust this person that for all he knows is an undercover cop or should he take a risk that could very well make him rich? If the authorities had the ability to contact him, they also most likely could arrest him anyway though. Either way, he was in a bad position. If someone he doesn't know and nobody that he knows know either, than how secure is he?

His computer speaker startled him with the sound of an incoming message. It stated that there was an IP address that she wanted him to connect to, it would have the reason he was being contracted. There would be another person connected to the server.

If nothing else, he would check the IP Address, see what was hosted, and leave. He made sure he was secure, using both an onion network and a VPN to make him anonymous, as well as spoofing a MAC address to make sure he wouldn't be tracked.

He checked the ports on the IP to see what all it had on it. Lo and behold there was another person connected to the network, it was just as he was told. The only thing there was an FTP server. He connected to it and got access to the server, there was no authentication needed. There was only one file on it. With his curiosity peaked, he downloaded the file.

The SUV came. Men came out. They interrogated the man that gave her the drone. Then, they killed him. Their weapons then aimed at her, so Kala responded calmly but swiftly. She got into her suit and disengaged its restraints. The haste made it fall a foot and she made a show to slam a fist into the ground to leave a crater. She straightened herself and turned to the men, her claws extending. She activated a macro that bellowed a warning in a digital voice. "Drop your weapons and surrender or die!" She moved into a fighting position, prepped to charge them with tusks extended.

She assumed they would persist and took account what cover they were using. She planned to use her grappling cables to pull it over as she planned top charge them. The drone was useless to her, but the men were obviously thinking she was easy cleanup. She intended to make their lives a living hell.

LA Slums
June 25
7:30 PM

Kenneth's work was over for the day, another one of preaching, doing humanitarian work, and bringing the word of the Church to the lost souls. He had to assume that Jimmie was taking the time to get things arranged, and he wasn't one to jump the gun, so it was only when it was in the evening, as requested, that he went to the address he had been given, pulling into a parking lot in the slums of LA< ignoring the looks he got from passersby. Their opinion didn't matter too much to him.

Stepping out, he locked the car and went to the address he had been given.It was a run down apartment complex, one of those urban renewal projects that sputtered out halfway finished, and now it just stood as a monument to politics. The door wasn't locked, and he went inside with ease. Through grimy, poorly lit and poorly maintained hallways he walked, until he arrived at a door with a very well hidden electronic lock.

A thumbprint scan was all it took, and he was in, the door opening with a click. Inside there were some shipping crates, unopened, and a crowbar, and he set to use, cracking each open in turn to see what was inside, like a kid opening presents on Christmas.

"Jimmie, man, you have really outdone yourself," Kenneth commented with some amusement as he pulled out supplies. A 9mm pistol with two clips, 2 military grade flash bangs, 1 military grade EMP grenade, a signal jammer, and an AHD with a grenade launcher (three rounds), a 5.56mm machine gun (150 rounds), and a locked IF/F transponder. This was definitely more hardware than he had been expecting, but considering what he would be going up against, he didn't question it. Or how Jimmie had gotten it, for that matter.

He loaded up the supplies into his car with some care given as to placement and ease of access, and headed out, resolved in what he had to do next. His next destination was the apartment block of Mr. Guermerro, to have a chat and see about liberating Gus Foreman form his predicament.

Cain was content with sitting and carefully reviewing his new lead when he was disturbed by the sound of his phone. He picked it up and looking at the screen it read. "unknown number." he furrowed his brow as he answered it thinking. 'why do I pay extra for Call ID just to have "unknown number. "'
"Cain Johnson." he stated before the person on the other side nearly cut him short. "wait, what do you..." pausing he became serious. "fifteen minutes." then hung up the phone, and drove away from his client's house tires screeching.

Cain wasted no time in getting to the junkyard, pushing the road laws to the limit. Cain weaved through the cars his truck slowing and accelerating, and engine roaring. He finally found the junkyard and pulled straight in, following the fresh tracks from what he could tell was a larger car. Seeing where the tracks had taken a turn he braked hard and turned the wheel making his truck preform a 180 degree trun and parked in a small alcove a short distance from the trun where a sign said "SHOP" with an arrow.

Getting out of his truck Cain strapped his pistol on, walked around his truck and hopped in the back. From his pocket he pulled his wallet and produced a small round disc like object that he pressed into a depression in the back of the truck's cab. This made a compartment open and inside was a long barreled rifle with a multi optics scope. Giving it a quick look over he began to move towards his presumed checkpoint looking for a vantage point.