Dark, low clouds grasped the horizon with greed, leaving very little space for the setting sun to blast it's final rays of light before it would creep into the darkness of the night. With the clouds came the rain that tormented the busy streets of the large city below, washing over the hoods of the cars stuck in hellish traffic, over umbrellas, abandoned streets, homeless people with very little shelter and the rooftops of the buildings and skyscrapers assembling the impressive skyline. It was all visible from a rather high perspective, over at an inhumane building story, it's window panes facing three cardinal points also being assaulted by an ungodly amount of water droplets forming ripples of streaming water that would be fluidly morphed into larger streams, as the strong winds from this height would hammer the skyscraper, but with to no avail. The dark grey ambient from the outside penetrated the near-empty conference room, shrouding it whole with an unsettling tone; the only live thing in the whole room was a shadowy figure leaned against one of the panes. It's obvious melancholic posture seemed to be sharing the mood with the outside world, gazing below in silence, it's stiffness hinting it may be but a statue of a former person that could once love and feel alive, now left only with his rationality and deep thoughts that rendered him immobile.

A blast of light flashed intermittently from behind, rendering the world in front of his eyes mostly white, the only little window left to view over the outside world was the shadow his body shape cast against the pane. With a light, guttural sigh, he pushed his body away from the pane so he could turn around and greet the man that he was supposed to meet; he didn't expect him to have spectators too, as, along with a lion imposing great power and knowledge wearing one of the most expensive-looking suits, carried with him two henchmen. One of them was following the lion closely, a Shiba with skeptical, yet, vigilant eyes scanning the corners of the room that had nothing to hide; although he was dressed in a suit also, he somehow slung a katana by his waistline, whose kashira was leisurely gripped with his right hand. A bit further back was a woman with a beauty to die for, a tanuki with jet-black hair styled in a messy bun that gave her an elegant, yet, rebellious look; combined with her demure and attire, a white business shirt and a skirt with decent length teasing the viewer's eyes. She was most likely armed too, but she was less conspicuous than the male Shiba. Both of them were small things compared to the towering lion that walked towards the oval desk featuring four chairs, three on his side and one at the other end; with a hand gesture and a courteous smile, he invited the guest to take his seat. The lion took his place and with a few taps on the desk, a metal briefcase ascended from a gap on the desk; he grabbed it as quick as he could and opened it so he could pull out some files that needed signatures on them. The henchmen also took their places by the lion's sides, the Shiba was still scrutinizing the room while the tanuki woman could not let her eyes off the guest that just took his place at the table as quietly as he could. Once the lion had the papers in order, he offered them and a pen to the tanuki so that she could then handle them to the guest. He accepted them with professional courtesy and started skimming through the pages, his light blue eyes darting from one side to the other of the pages. Seeing that the conditions were those that he was promised, he picked up the pen and clicked it open and just as he was about to let his mark on the paper, the lion breaks the ice, forcing the guest to look up at him.
"These are the last of the papers that need be signed, friend" his voice claimed with an elegant tone, bearing a much warmer smile now. The kind of smile that showed off his confidence and control over the situation. "The journey to this point has been long, yes, I give you that. But here we are, on the verge of celebrating our nearly-constructed wonder that will change the lives of each and every person that walks on this planet. It is all a matter of time, now, nothing can stop it from becoming reality."

The guest darted his eyes back at the papers with quite a surprise and maybe a hint of regret. "Quite so. About the lengthy wait, I mean." he replied monotonously, as to show he is not so eager of the yet completed plan.

"Now, you shouldn't feel so unsure about it. We were inconspicuous enough to built out monumental project without having any kind of interference, neither from our would-be rivals, nor from the government. It is outright silly how the law here admits nearly any kind of corporation, so long it pays it's taxes and keeps the accounting archives in check; with the right permission, we could develop atomic weaponry and it would only cost us money! Luckily enough, we are more refined than your average paramilitary organization, we don't just arm up goons and send them over to battles that are not ours to fight."

The guest narrowed his eyes. He knew the lion was right and that's what he hated. He was much more dangerous than any terrorist on this planet, be him a religious extremist or part of some fascist political movement, for he was not driven by any beliefs; it was a strong dream that lead him to where he stands. "And you mean to say that with these final papers you will be able to put an end to those very wars, to bureaucracy, to religious and political conflicts, racism, xenophobia and technological stagnation altogether, as you vehemently claimed all these years?"

The lion blinked slowly, as to parry away the guest's offensive disbelief and tapped his index finger once against the desk. The tilted his head towards the Shiba bodyguard, the lion's lips briefly parted to pass on an order; the guard looked astonished and crossed his gaze with the tanuki and the guest. Since his only option was to follow the order he was given, the Shiba rose to his feet and greeted the guest with a bow and invited the tanuki with him to wait outside. The guest wasn't sure if he was to feel comfortable now that the two pairs of extra eyes were off him or if he should feel dread for being left alone with a man like this one. The two guards exited the room and he could swear he saw a third figure in the shadow of the hall facing straight towards the room and gazing right at him, sending a chill strong enough to have his tail tremble and the hair on his back stand up. As soon as the door was shut, the lion stood up from his seat and walked away from the desk towards the window panes, walking across the empty room slowly, stopping right in front of the pane. With the flick of the finger, he invited the guest to join him.

{ Intro Song }
{ 0:00 - 1:26 }

The guest could only stand up, with some reluctance, and take his place beside the lion; the walk towards the pane seeming to last a lifetime. The neon lights made it quite difficult to see through the windows at this point, but some of the buildings were still visible, the clouds had shifted since and allowed the reddish sun to expose itself through a small crack in the shadowy mass. It wasn't enough to color the monotonous, grayscale world, though it did shed some feint hope that the rain would come to an end soon. Due to the approaching night and the general darkness, the windows of the skyscrapers and buildings were lit, so were the red lights of the antennas on top of them, throwing some spots of color. The lion's tone had changed to show a more imposing nature, to make sure his message would be understood clearly.

"I can understand why you would be skeptic. This project has consumed most of your life and well-being, that is something I cannot give you back and I humbly apologize to have brought you in this state. I promise, though, that once this is complete, you will be given a plentiful reward for your invaluable contribution. But you must understand that sacrifice is a must if one wants to achieve one's dreams, both you and I know that too well; now that we are so close to make The Motherboard reality, we should be most focused, motivated and determined to bring this long ordeal to an end and reap the eternal happiness we deserve.

I am not going to ask you to sign those papers, I can have what I need from you without your accord and you know that well. But for the respect I bear for you, I could not bring myself to do such a thing, unless you would have the foolish desire to stand in my way. You know too well the power I wield, the force that I can summon with the flick of my nail. You were there too, sweating, crying, bleeding and dying inside by my side to achieve this power, to reach this far: to become unstoppable. But-" the lion turned towards the guest to look at his light blue eyes "-should you want to discontinue your cooperation amicably, I understand. I will pester you no further after you have signed the papers there. Either way, you will be plentifully rewarded."

Seeing no way out of this situation, the guest lowered his head, his ears flopped down in submission, taking one last glance at the outside world, a world that had no idea what was coming it's way.

{ 1:26 - 2:07 }



With the day coming towards a conclusion, most of the city was once again cluttered with cars and people rushing to reach their cozy, warm homes and rest after a week's hard work, maybe watch the game that was airing tonight, or catch the new season of a world-renown fantasy series; maybe go to the local clubs, or crash into their beds and just forget that this week had ever happened, the people of Chicago had had enough for this week. The ambient composed of an orchestra made of rain, car engines, ambulance sirens, car horns, the city trams speeding on their monorails and airborne vehicles above making their presence known with their signature whistle or chopping sounds. They were all too oblivious of the unorthodox meeting that took place in the Chicago Central Business Tower, a hulking citadel taller than the city's former icon, Sears Tower. Placed in the Oak Park region, the CCBT had quite a view over the whole city, it's outskirts and Lake Michigan. The citizens had grown accustomed to having the dark blue, oddly-shaped citadel above their heads; the offices here are quite fancy in comparison to the standards, though the rent there really lives up to it's fame. The city had changed in aspect since the birth of CCBT in 2029, twenty years of some significant technological advancement had left an impression on the city and mainly the first world, military tech has come to a level where a head-on conflict would result in a constant stalemate. The Buckingham convention decided that no country on this planet is to have it's own national army and instead rely on PMC's; it is a mystery how such an atrocity was implemented, this law basically made the business that is war into a full-blown bazaar. Admittedly, territorial disputes have subsided to an extent, but religious conflicts never stop, being the money-making machine for warmongers and weapon dealers. Sure, the economy has come to a point that taxes are on the verge of being eliminated, but all that money filling up people's pockets are soaked with the blood of the misguided and the innocent.

It has become a part of life, now. No average man is shocked about such a notion anymore, some have even learned to take advantage of it, maybe even put their talents to "good use" and contribute to the war business. One such example is a certain male wolf-fox hybrid of Scandinavian descent, wistfully staring at a massive console laid in front of his eyes while holding an unopened bottle of beer. Wulfus, a man in his early thirties with a sandy mop of hair on the top of his head, a long snout, green eyes, red fur but wolfish features, was growing wary of waiting for the people he considered friends and celebrate his latest failure. His closest friend, Ray, claimed that he couldn't possibly appear fast enough so he called it off, his sister might be out with the girls so he wouldn't want to bother her. The only one that could actually pop up was the one most unlikely to appear as he was a foreigner from a distant land; he did get a confirmation that he would be in town at some point, so Wulfus went ahead and communicated the address of his lab and the code to the keypad sealing the workshop from the prying eyes. To Wulfus, who had grown in this lab with his father, was his home: the white walls stained with failed experiments passed the test of endurance, crates were littered everywhere the damn place, three massive working benches with hyper-sensitive and precise robotic arms, complex programming software and material weaving were idling in the darker corners of the hall and three large, cylinder-shaped objects that were covered with white sheaths. The console in front of him was displaying a large desktop with a few icons spread all over the screen, the background depicting a team of egg-heads, including himself, crowded up to take a picture, wearing miserable lab coats and very tired smiles. All of them were hired as engineers, designers and robotics specialists, while him, was spending his free time all alone in the lab, either playing video games or testing any new ideas or hypotheses; he was the only one in the bunch with robotic engineering , bio-mechanics and programming degrees, and invaluable combination of traits. Yet, here he lies, waiting for a last hope to come and sit by him as he would get himself piss drunk with maybe one or two beers.

Losing all of his hope to meet any of his so-called friends, Wulfus stretched out his arm to grab a bottle of beer from the six pack, still cold due to a technology that allowed the material to keep itself thermally isolated from the environment, effectively so. As he was about to open the cap with a bitter look on his face, the large console screen flashed a large "INTRUDER ALERT" window, along with a camera catching a certain wolf more or less "breaching" into his living quarters; his primary passion being inventing, Wulfus had set up quite a security clearance that contained proximity sensors, panels that would detect any anomalous electromagnetic activity which could possibly harm his lab entirely, thermal sensors, trip lasers and even pressure pads here and there. All these were wired, among other things, to the console and if one of this plenitude of alarms would be set off, the plethora of cameras covering most of his living quarters, his lab and even the street would fire up specifically where the anomaly was detected. This time, it was the entrance of his quarters all the way through the lab entrance; although startled by alert, he soon made a psychological check and scanned the live feed with great enthusiasm, convinced that someone had pity on him and showed up. Identifying that the man trying to punch in the code into the keypad was the most unlikely guest to appear, a Japanese gentleman he once met when Ray tagged him along in an experience trip there; Wulfus actually spent most of the time there and teach the wolf the English language, going as far as to buying him books to study since he proved to be quite a serious student. Meeting Sylas was a rather interesting encounter, since he pretty much defended him and the gang from some cocky locals picking up on western travelers like themselves.

And now he was here, Wulfus froze in place when the wolf's molten gold eyes met with his own green ones, a wide grin stuck on the hybrid's snout. He felt a bit too awkward to say anything at first, but once the wolf broke the ice with a greeting, Wulfus sprung up to his feet and immediately bowed down. Once he got back up from the rather-too-deep bow and shook hands with the wolf, he immediately opened up.

"Bloody 'ell, Sylas, it has been way too long, man!" he exclaimed, inviting the wolf to step in further in his astonishing laboratory filled with tools, apparatuses, working benches, robotic arms dangling from the ceiling, quite a peculiar meeting place. The "concentration" of scientific tech grew as one would advance into the hall, being divided at one point through a little flight of stairs leading to a platform where most of the heavy and high-end utilities, tech and tools were stowed away, along with three massive cylinders covered with white blankets. Having but one seat in the whole damn place, Wulfus had to fetch a placeholder for Sylas to sit on, namely, a tool trolley the hybrid pulled next to his own chair; after he relieved the guest of his bags and safely placed them on a bench near the monstrous console, he seated the wolf on the trolley, which groaned and clacked loudly in protest. "Don't worry, these things are designed to hold half a ton of tools, so it's safe for a person to-" the trolley emitted a loud, metallic bang as one of the drawers crashed on the floor, scattering a number of bolts and nuts on the floor which quickly rolled under everything. Wulfus raised his hands and stated with confidence "Now it's safe!" and started chuckling. He grabbed a second beer from the six pack and shoved it in the wolf's grasp.

"I know, it's not the best place to arrange a supposed reunion, which has failed anyway... Ray said he was still working at his office, Mia will not answer her phone no matter what and my sister is most likely out with some of her friends or something like that. But, hey, I'm glad that you, out of all people, showed up! I'm not sure how you ended up in Chicago, but I am really glad you did, not to mention you made it just in time to celebrate my latest failure." he ended bitterly, opening up his bottle of beer. He forcefully cheered with Sylas and gulped down one quarter of the bottle, enough to render him a little tipsy. He raised his snout towards the wolf and smiled weakly. "So, how have you
been, then? Come on, show me how good you are with English now."

Somewhere else, in a much less relaxed atmosphere. the only sound accompanying a certain guest was the ball pen tip scratching against the surface of the paper as it left a thin blue mark shaping his familiar signature. The fingertips of his hands slid the signed paper away only to reveal the next one beneath and since he had already agreed to lay down and sign them all, he could only scribble his name over and over again, anticipating the end of this ordeal that never seemed to arrive. At first, he would concentrate on each paper, skim a bit through it and hope that it was the last one, yet, he was proven wrong every time; at some point, everything became mechanical, his mind completely disconnecting from the issues as his hands entered in an automatic, complex reflex of his muscles. He realized it was over only when he nearly signed the damn table too, that would have been a terrible mistake which could have cost his life. The lion picked up the tonne of contracts and flicked through each and every of them, searching for any paper that could have slipped past unnoticed; as he did so, the guest turned his head away from the lion to stare off through the window, the air lifting some of the tense state outside, yet, something much more ominous was lurking out there in the wild, he felt. A pair of fingers snapped him out of his brief trance, his attention turning to the Shiba and the tanuki returning to the room; the female, to her dismay, picked up the papers and slid them back in the briefcase, but before she would seal it shut and send it away, she pulled out a small metal box which she placed on the desk. A small item that made the guest's inside twist in disgust, fear and dread; while he knew exactly what was in there, he also knew he will not be able to tell what is in there. Just then the lion finished whispering some directives to the Shiba, the loyal guard nodded and flicked a few gestures to a third person outside the room and out of the guest's line of sight. The door went shut once more, leaving the three men alone in the room.

It was that moment again. He knew he dreaded this moment for some reason he did not understand, or remember why; the lion seated himself right next to the guest, while the guard picked up the box and brought it closer. He broken open the seal and popped it open just as he started to work with the contents of the metallic box, the lion drew his guest's attention to him.

"The instructions are clear enough, I hope, but I will repeat them. You can never be too sure." the dog finished assembling the small apparatus which the guest easily identified to be a Somers intravenous auto-injector, whose reservoir was now being loaded with an unmarked, colorless serum. "You are to return to your work as usual and just wait, be it three weeks, three months... three years. Neither me, or my men, will contact you, we cannot risk compromising your affiliation with us. But once that time span had passed, you will be relieved of any pain and torment your life might be. You will see. Until then, we still need to take the last few droplets of hell so we can cherish the eternal peace that awaits us." The guard then grabbed the guest's left arm firm enough to keep him in place, but not strong enough to hurt or discomfort him too much; he revealed his furred arm underneath the suit and shirt and started searching for a viable vein to puncture with the help of a blue lantern which mapped out the trajectory of the veins underneath the skin, ignoring the fur or any other tissue covering them. When the guest felt a trickle of sweat run down his temple, he decided to finally act and cover his arm with his left hand, surprising both the lion and the guard.

"I will do it myself." he said boldly, avoiding any eye contact. Astonished by this change of heart, the guard looked up at the lion to receive a confirmation or a denial; his boss nodded with a thin smile, thus leaving the guard to handle the injector to the guest. But not without showing the bold guest that if he tried any sudden move, he will sever his hand off, just by grabbing the tsuka of his katana. The guest grabbed the injector off the table and gave it a brief glance, a glance that nearly gave away his intention to end this humiliation here, suck some air in the reservoir and send them to his own heart; he'd suddenly die in the tram taking him to work, or maybe he'd drop dead in his own office or home. But was he a coward enough to take himself out like this, without fighting back? "No" he thought "I can still do something about this. I need time. Rest. Help.". Having nothing else to say, he rammed the injector against his forearm with a surgical precision, unloading the contents of the reservoir into his venous system; before he could stand up and walk away, his vision faded out into pitch black, his ears went deaf, his senses numb, his memory and cognition reduced to the capacity of creating dreams. His comatose body slid back into the chair and settled itself in place, the Shiba then quickly assessed his vitals and confirmed he was still alive; once again, he will not remember any important detail of this meeting, keeping him physically intact. The lion now shifted his face into a frown, being rather surprised of this gesture; he didn't know if he should take this event seriously, a threat maybe, or it was just a sort of symbolic act. This trivial matter did not concern him at the moment, considering he had much more important issues to focus on, so he pushed himself up and away from the table and headed towards the exit, the guard following him closely. As he stepped out, a couple of scurried inside to recover the guest and prepare to safely send him home.

The corridor heading towards the elevator was shrouded in a thick, grey atmosphere, as there was barely any light coming in. As the lion and his guard were walking down the hall, the latter quickly tapped his rather small ear to catch a sit-rep coming through the earpiece embed in his internal ear; as soon as he understood the gist of the message, he tapped the lion's shoulder to have his attention:

"Our squads are prepared to storm the Federal Reserve Bank, the Harris Bank and Northern Trust" he claimed with a husky tone bearing an exotic accent. "Sources indicate that one of these might contain a Helyx Alpha drive, if not, our last resort plan is to triangulate a central HQ tied with these banks that would contain a high-priority vault."

The lion chuckled lightly, glancing briefly over his shoulder "So, you tell me that you can do all of these in one night? With these goons for hire working on the field?" He asked in disbelief, but the guard was unshaken by his superior's belittlement.

"Those goons are only capable enough to access the banks, rummage for info and get out. As for actually retrieving the drives, I'll send him" he stated, pointing with a thumb just over his own shoulder and at half-way distance between the meeting room and the elevator door. As soon as this third person was mention, he froze into place and merged with the darkness, so to make his presence but an illusion. The guard, though, knew him too well to fall for this trick anymore. "And if we have to pinpoint a different vault, I will take over the operation and go in myself with him."

His superior hummed as he punched in an access code into the command panel right next to the lift doors and called the elevator back up. "Why go in yourself? Don't you trust him enough to do this job alone? Of course not. Is it a two-man job? You can't know that yet. Maybe you still can't trust him, I feel. Well, worry not: let this task be his opportunity to convince you he is a trustworthy operator. I need you at my side for the following days." The guard and the lion entered the elevator and just as the metallic doors slid close, the Shiba took a closer, frowned glance at the corridor, only to spot a pair of red dots staring back at him with defiance. The guard growled lowly and bared his teeth just enough to send a discreet and strong message to the one hiding in the darkness

"Kuso kurae."

Over at the central Harris Bank of Chicago, one certain janitor was finally ending his interminable shift and sign off. He was sitting on a stool in the changing room, gawping at his wristwatch in silence and as soon the annoying, beeping alarm went off, he stood up, killed off the alarm and headed towards one of the lockers. The raccoon rummaged at one of the lockers until he pulled out a duffel bag heavy with items that clung together and filled the small room with metallic sounds; he zipped the bag open and found a high-performance, near-silent drilling machine, some wires and a smart tablet. Knowing exactly what he had to do, he pulled the drill out and with no second to spare, he started to carve a hole on a certain wall which had to small dots marked with permanent marker; as soon as the tip of the drill pushed through final millimeters of fake wall, he shifted to the other dot and repeated the process, followed by sliding in the pair of wires in each hole until his ears picked a soft clicking nose at the other side of the wall, telling him that the wires had their magnetic couples attach to some hidden cables. He connected the other ends into the tablet and booted the hijacked software; all he had to do now was to wait until the next alarm of his wristwatch go off so he could release the electromagnetic pulse and fry straight through the cables. As soon as the firs beep blasted, his index pushed against the screen and with a muffled zap, the cables fried to crisp; hopefully, the other four men he was working with got the synchronization right. This was confirmed by a security officer watching over an immense console with most camera feeds displayed on the whole screen; as soon as his own alarm went off, he hijacked the console and inserted a recorded loop over the feeds and all of the proximity, pressure, temperature and trip sensors were cut off from any source of power, yet, they were tagged as "On-line" on the console screen.

"Cut." Muttered the security officer into an earpiece, the signal for the infiltration team to move in. Given the confirmation, seven men atop an adjacent, taller skyscraper, clad in black tactical suits comprised of tactical vests, spec ops overalls, recon boots, balaclavas fitted with eye pieces, took a small leap off the southern edge of the roof and rappelled down to a conveniently misplaced automatic window cleaning scaffolding almost at the same level with the roof of the Harris Bank of Chicago. All seven men safely landed on the scaffolding and checked the windows in front of them, hoping that the whole floor was empty; towards their relief, no one saw them slide down the building and arrive at the scaffolding. They all turned around in unison and took a good look over the rather frightening view just below their feet. The bravest of the team grabbed his rope, took a couple steps back and with the most amount of momentum his body could generate, he took a powerful leap off the structure and let his whole body be taken away by gravity; a few moments of weightlessness ensued while clearing a small bit of distance between the buildings, but to reach the other side, he had to pull a cord and release the wingsuit that would give his body some more air time before coming in contact with the roof of the bank. Once there, he had to retract his suit and land on the roof with a couple of rolls to attenuate the landing shock. After he made sure he was still in one piece, he quickly tied the rope he carried with him on a pole nearby and create a rudimentary zip-line for the rest of the team. One after another, the men leaped and latched unto the rope with hang buckles, crossed the distance between the buildings and safely land on the roof. After they looped the rope and cast it aside, the men advanced between the ventilation fans, cooling units and pipes, underneath the helipad and finally reaching the trapdoors leading to maintenance shafts. One of them pulled out a breaching charge and snug it tight just at the locks holding the trap in place, while another primed the explosive, cleared the area for safety and detonate; the blast was small enough not to light up the whole roof, but powerful enough to traumatize the metals holding the trap in place and offer free access to the maintenance shafts. Only five men dropped down, leaving two to watch their six. One knelt down and reached for a small pad device and monitored the progress of the team by cycling through the built-in cameras in the eye pieces, as the other one was pacing around with one hand grabbing the belt keeping his waist pouches safe and snug, while the other rested on the handle of a stun gun resting in it's harness on his right thigh. Scanning his surroundings and every possible corner, he considered that security was an unnecessary thing, since they made sure no one was to see them arrive, snatch and leave.

Completely unaware of any of these unfolding plots, Wulfus listened patiently to Sylas's story, chugging down one beer and over a half; the light fur on his cheeks did not do a very good job at hiding away the drunken blush, neither was his rather reddish gaze doing him any service. Once Sylas was finished, Wulfus stood silent for a few moments and suddenly chuckled, almost out of context. The folf was handling the beer bottle around, giving it a miserable look.

"Ya know" he lamely started "I never told you why I invited you here." Although it seemed completely out of the blue, Wulfus definitely felt the need to let go of the anchor that was drowning his heart in sorrow and Sylas was unfortunate enough to be his company. "There's been this... hm, competition-kind-like-thing, ya see. A design contest, if you - hm - will. There's this big, BIG Pee Em See running most of the West Coast security and with abroad activity, Dragon Super Star Troops and- wait. No. D-Dragon. Star. Echelon. Yeah. 'N they needed a new body armor design, a fresh kind-of-thing from anyone who's not engineering in their company. So, anyone could join, even small-time guys like me. And, after I studied real hard about their general activities, I thought they'd need, like, a body armor for scouts, recon - yaknow, sneaky kind of people. They have a lot of heavy-duty armors, some really basic stuff, experimental mech-like tank-thing. Heck, they have exoskeletons lined with artificial muscles that makes you stronger tenfold! But no recon... uh, things!" Wulfus then burped, moment in which he decided to stand up and walk around as he continued on with his (a bit incoherent) lament, gesticulating with his free hand and nearly spilling his beer with the other.

"So, I started to study and refresh my physics notions... with regards to, like, light spectrum, light absorption and reflection and the likes. I've made suits before, so I basically know how to make your standard body armor, but this... this was no ordinary body armor. Lined with a thin exoskeleton that enhances the user's entire skeletal muscle system hidden under an outer, thin layer of thermal and electrical insulant which is then covered with a thicker payer of buckypaper! You know, carbon nanotube aggregates, a tough-as-shit composite material; I wanted to add some graphene plating, but you'd get instantly electrocuted by anything, not to mention it would have costed me a fortune to procure. Oh, and, I've found this funky pattern to layer the buckypaper in which, not only it protects you from bullets, but it deflects them! I'm not shitting you, I made an armor that stops bullets and drops them on the ground! Not to mention that you can take a severe beating from a street gang and you'd still be able to walk it off with your insides intact!

Now for the best parts: it enhances one's strength roughly fourfold, meaning you can lift stupendous weights, jump up to five meters when standing in place and cover large distances with enough momentum; the strength distributed in one's legs can raise one's average speed up to one-twenty kilometers per hour, or seventy-four miles per hour if you're American. So, yes, it's kind-of-a hit'n'run design, not a tank that can take limitless amounts of punishment, I mean, we are talking about a covert ops body armor-suit-thing. Also, with the help of some fine lining between the artificial exoskeletal muscles and the helmet movement-detection systems, the suit can increase the speed of one's reflexes once it has become used with one's general behavior and tendencies and help react to things with greater efficiency. It doesn't force your body to dodge things, it's not an A.I. we are talking about, but it does give you that WHUMPH you need if you dodge a rocket you normally couldn't have with the limitations of your body. It may feel heavy on one when you just wear it, but once you fire it up, the exoskeleton will inflate with some good hydraulic liquids resembling a blood-like tissue that keeps the muscles active and constantly charged. With all those, it's still very flexible and all, but I still have problems with energy consumption and distribution; yes, using the suit without abusing it too much will mechanically recharge the batteries stowed in the chest and back plates to some extent, but you'd still need to get back to base and recharge. It lasts for about twenty-four hours of moderate usage before it shuts down.

Also, the suit allows tactical vests and other harnesses with great ease, I even placed some clamp-type connective modules on the hips and the back part of the suit so you can stow away rifles, pistols, heck, swords and knives without needing a sheath or a sling for them! In fact, you know what..." thus, Wulfus invited Sylas to follow him with a gesture of a hand, taking him towards the elevated platform where the three cylinders were lined up. The folf barely made it up the stairs without toppling over and as soon as Sylas had made his way up there through all of the crates, components and assmbly robots, the engineer pulled the white cover off one of the cylinders, only to reveal a sight out of this world: the very suit the folf was describing.

The suit itself was of matte dark grey with a very light inclination towards blue, as it was observable on the portions lit up by the white neon lights above. Although it had the aspect of a plated body armor, the texture of the material clearly told otherwise; there were visible crevices between the torso piece and the limbs pieces, where a muscle-like structure would connect the two components together, so to not compromise flexibility. The entire aspect and style of the suit was definitely inspired from some work of science fiction, maybe even from videogames The shoulder, arm and forearm were fleshed out by the material, all held together with the internal exoskeletal layer; the hand itself was complex in shape, offering full mobility of the fingers. The knees and elbows were protected by protective caps made of the very same material, perfectly incorporated into the suit itself so t would not stand out as obvious targets; also, there was a tail sheath made of the same material as the other limb and torso pieces for universal usage. The helmet had an interesting build, having an elongated shape to fit a longer canine snout in it; the mandible was separated from the rest of the structure, hinting that it may be possibly to retract the upper part off. Another characteristic of the helmet was that it had no visor, no slit hole, no transparent component to look through. (Reference) Wulfus took gawped at his own creation with regret, taking another healthy gulp of beer afterwards. "Beautiful, isn't it? Took me five months of non-stop work. Heck, I moved here, as you can see. I wanted to deliver a finished product, not an useless sculpture. I mean, it's got proximity sensors: the moment your suit detects another person disrupting the light, undetectable electromagnetic field it creates, you will be alerted of that guy's presence AND it will point you to where he is! The helmet has multiple cameras embed into that hard material to simulate the world around you, but adding visual enhancements such as night vision, thermal vision, long range scanning; in fact, the helmet is kind of a computer, it's made so that you can talk with your squad, view a YouTube video while sneaking from one corner to another, all in the while you can monitor the integrity of your suit and yourself!" Now that he was talking about his creation as if it were his child, Wulfus had seemingly lost some of the alcoholic buzz, yet, he could barely keep his balance, even if he was leaning against the railing behind him.

"And guess what! Those motherfuckers refused it. They picked another exoskeleton design made by one of the C.E.O.'s grandson, a rudimentary and utterly crude thing it was. Plus, they wouldn't want to give away any money to a skinny, shady freelance." he said with a bitter taste on his tongue. "So, that's what we celebrate today. The failure I had yesterday. Cheers, to a road of success and everything implicated... in such things!" He raised his beer and immediately downed the rest of it's contents; he settled the empty bottle on a keyboard desk just next to him and returned to gawping upon the glass cylinder. Out of an impulse, he opened it up with the press of a button, exposing the suit to the exterior; the helmet was staring down right at Sylas, as if it had become suddenly interested in this guest. Of course, the suit was an inanimate thing, yet, something about it gave it life. Wulfus traced a line down the forearm of the suit, feeling the surprisingly smooth texture under his finger buds. "I'll get another beer." he muttered as he turned around and accidentally toppling the empty beer bottle on the ground, which rolled off the platform and right under some crates. "Faen i helvete!" he exclaimed with frustration. By the time he returned with a new bottle, he observed that Sylas had some sort of admiration for the invention too, even though the folf only covered about 30% of what it could do; the sight by itself maybe was enough to impress the wolf, since he had grown in a traditionalist village in central Japan. Charmed by the moment, the engineer walked up to the wolf and patted his shoulder with a rather unnecessary force, his breath reeking with alcohol.

"Those motherfuckers didn't even consider putting it on for a test run. I think that model is actually your size, I reckon. Say... wanna try it out? Come oooooon, we both want it! I need to document some firsthand experience for it, you get to run around with the thing. Maybe I'll sell this suit elsewhere; sure, I'll get no money or copyright for it, but it's better than having my hand stuck up my ass. There should be a diagram there, showing you how to put it on... it's made so that everyone can put it on, even the retard next door with diaper issues! Or maybe not. Oh, and, once it's on, you hafta switch that large... knob articulation thing on the left of your head and you should be set. Careful, not the one on the right, that one opens your helmet!"

And indeed, there laid a diagram showing how the external components would clip off by maneuvering the connecting buttons in a certain order, buttons that were scattered on the chest, abdomen, back, shoulder, arms, forearms, hands, thigs, calves, boots and finally the tail sheath. The exoskeleton was basically an overall held together with a few more clasps and buttons; the whole process would be a bit tiresome at first, but by the way the whole process was ordered, it would become an easy routine. The suit did have some weight to it, the helmet was actually quite heavy. But the synargy that was about to come would definitely defeat theses apparent imperfections.

The hybrid couldn't contain his grin as he watched the wolf approach the suit and pick up the diagram; he was too busy to fantasize how the suit will behave with its wearer to notice Sylas just went butt-naked to strap the suit on. Normally, those designated to wear advanced body armors are equipped with a thin overall to reduce friction between the wearer's fur and the insides of the suit. This design, though, had the overall included within the suit for mobility purposes. His eyes were drawn back to the wolf as soon as he saw him nearly do the mistake of opening the helmet, but quickly corrected his move and instead activated the helmet's computer; seeing the wolf moving and stretching around, Wulfus could barely contain his own excitement as he gazed upon his own creation coming to life. While it did not do anything impressive just yet, the mere fact that it was worn and it was walked around raised the hybrid's heart activity to a point his brain nearly sobered. Yet, something was still amiss with the suit, something didn't quite behave as he intended to and he believed he figured it out. He turned around to one of the tables and picked up a wire jack with a very long sleeve and tip, to which he connected in an auxiliary USB port another wire. Approaching the wolf with the scary contraption, he demanded his left arm, in which he inserted the jack deeply in a groove between the forearm and biceps "plates".

"He he, forgot to input a little detail. Whoopsie. It didn't detect you as a user 'cause I didn't install the auto-detection module. I intended to put a sort of a system thing that would automatically recognize the user by measurements. I will try to cram that kind of software someday, but for now, I'll run it once from an external device and it should shape itself to fit you better. See?" Wulfus pinched a slightly exposed artificial muscle fiber and tugged at it. "This should be rock-hard. And, hey, yeah, sure! It's night-time already, so if you stick to the rooftops, you should be okay. This suit bends the light around itself to some degree, but it can still reflect light, so it's not 100% invisible to the naked eye; still, if anyone's gawping up at the sky, they shouldn't see you. Or if they do, they'd see a shadowy figure dart across the sky and dismiss it as a bird or a bat or something. Okie-dokes, this should do the trick. Hold still, please."

Wulfus then flipped a switch on one of the consoles from where the wire was originating and in an instant, the deepest layer of the suit suddenly clamped painfully tight around the wolf's whole body frame as it tried to suffocate and squeeze the life out of Sylas. After a few seconds have passed, the layer then releases the wolf and settles in at a very comfortable snugness, followed by a sudden, explosive jerk of the whole suit as the whole exoskeleton pumped up with hydraulic liquid, the muscle fibers inflated and hardened as Wulfus promised. The whole suit pumped up, offering Sylas complete weightlessness as the entire suit sustained its own weight, as well as Sylas's mass; every move now felt natural and very powerful, nothing felt heavy anymore and there were no more mobility issues. On his display, the green figure representing the suit had changed now, creating another figure contained within the suit and adding the detected pulse and neural activity of its wearer. An internal, somewhat robotic voice came to life and announced Sylas that it was standing by. Meanwhile, Wulfus headed over to the large consoles in order to establish a live feed from the suit's cameras and readings, so that he could monitor Sylas' activity on the field. By typing in a few commands and curse the core computer, the feed showed up on multiple screens, to the wolf's obvious excitement; it was magical to see motion on something he concentrated endless amounts of effort.

"Okay, good. I've live feed from the cameras and the HUD, so I can always see whatever you are doing. Uh, I'd advise against going through the front door, that's a rookie mistake in stealth. Uh, see that window pane on the roof? Yeah, that one; I'll take off the blinders and open it up to you. Try to move around the roof, jump maybe on other buildings; hell, if you're feeling lucky, go downtown. I mean, there are slim chances for you to be seen there, with the tall rooftops and stuff. Try not to scratch it too hard, though, it's still a prototype! Alright, readings are nominal, the muscle tissues are charged 100%, battery 100%. I should consider using a different musculature weaving setup on the next model, that would cut hydraulic needs..."

As Wulfus kept on with his scientific mumble, a window pane installed on the roof slowly revealed the exterior as the metallic blinders slid away and hid in their container as the pane suddenly took life and mvoed out of the way; the distance up to the roof was roughly four meters, just in the suit's vertical jump reach. The wind from outside was pouring in through the gap, bringing a chilly air into the room.

The same wind kept company for the two infiltrators on the roof of the bank, which was rather annoying for them. It would certainly cover any noises in their proximity, keeping both of them on the edge. One was leaning against a wall near the door and kept checking for updates from the strike time operating in the building, while the other was doing patrols around the perimeter in an obviously bored fashion. He relied solely on his vision, bringing up a torchlight would have been a very bad idea. A dozen stories below, the team was advancing through the deserted cubicles in a clockwork-perfect manner, each planning their move ten steps before execution; every step, every role, every corner check was carried out following an extensively intrinsic script made to avoid detection and leave no trace of their presence. While there were no cameras in the large offices, there were motion detectors on every wall; they weren't shut down, as that would trigger a silent alarm and there was no possible way to override that particular code without leaving traces. Instead, the hacking team lowered the sensitivity on the sensors; even so, the infiltration team still had to keep collateral movement to a minimum to avoid detection. As one would slide from a cubicle to another, his teammate would gracefully dive and roll, clearing corners without even triggering the mulled-down sensors, while another would make small but rapid steps across the room in a crouched stance; the last two kept close to walls, sliding among them without actually touching the surface. In this pattern, the detectors picked up the movement as bugs, dust or maybe small animals, nothing to be concerned about. After clearing the entire section, they finally reach a door at the very end of the lanes, which they all approached and waited for one of the men to arrive; he pulled out some sort of device he fixed on the door's card slot and inserted a card-like object with several wires that connected the card to the device itself. It took several minutes to crack the code, but the door unlocked and released the door knob; all five entered the room and shut the door behind and started to search the room high and low, four were scouring the place for something while one of them went straight for the expensive personal computer placed on a neat desk. The desk also harbored a ton of paperwork, a few books and various expensive pens, but for the infiltrator all that mattered was getting in the computer's hard drive and read it from an external display device, so he plugged in a couple of normal-looking cables in the backside of the core computer and tap on the device at an accelerated pace. The rest peeked under the armchairs, sofa, behind the expensive paintings, under the rug, behind the plants, in every locked and unlocked drawer for something of great importance; due to their hasty speed, one of them found that something they were looking for. As soon as he realized that he had found it, he took an electric field proximity device with which he scanned around the painting to find any cables that would connect to an alarm that would be triggered by removing the painting. To their luck, there was no such apparatus installed there, otherwise they would have had to drill holes into the wall and neutralize the alarm.

Taking off the portrait, he unveiled a safe that had no keypad or keyhole on it. As such, the whole team turned towards the infiltrator operating the computer, knowing that the only way to open that safe was through that very same computer. He cancelled the automatic search for any information in regards to that safe and instead initiated a heuristic scan for any code lines that would send the command to open it. He had to change the parameters a few times, but time was on their part, since there were no contingencies during the whole infiltration op. With a mild clank, the seal clamps released the safe's door open, revealing the contents: three gold bars, money, a dossier, a taser gun with several exchange batteries and a pair of keys. They were rather bulky in shape and had different bittings, but the team were confident they found exactly what they were looking for. It was rather clever of the bank manager to hide the keys in a relatively low-security room, while setting up a perfect diversion in the vaults below. Now that they had what they needed, all they had to do was to erase any trace of their presence, meaning they had to lock the safe door back and erase the most recent command to open it, place the painting in it's exact position and exfiltrate in the same manner they got in. While none of them verbosely showed it, their body movements were much more relaxed now, knowing that they accomplished their task successfully. The team leader sent an update to the watchers up top, ordering them to prepare for the team's arrival.

{0:00 - 0:56}

As Wulfus approached the main consoles, his eyes caught a sudden change of background coming from the live feed streaming from the suit's helmet, his ears picking up the muscle fibers of the suit contract loudly and jerk against the floor; he only managed to raise his snout to catch Sylas just barely avoiding a crash landing against a large toolbox, his hand slipping but catching the edge afterwards. The readings on the left and right were booming with useful information, Sylas' heart rate and neural activity slightly spiked, which determined a chain reaction throughout the suit which facilitated the wolf's reaction; it seemed that the reflex enhancement systems were already active just a few moments after the suit accommodated with the wolf's neural readings and body frame. The hybrid formed a silly expression, a result from combining shock with fear and amazement and turned his head over to the still-hanging wolf; he blinked twice and thought to throw a rebuke at his test subject, though it would have been useless since he crawled up on the roof. He traced his temples with the tips of his fingers, feeling a small bit of regret; even though he built the suit to be bulletproof and withstand monstrous amounts of punishments, it wasn't idiot-proof. One rough fall combined with a rough, sharp or pointy edge, the suit could be damaged. And the user inside it. Wulfus took a second for himself to calm down and rationalize the minor incident, after all, no one was injured, the suit was still intact and he witnessed one of the experimental systems he made actually work. He crashed into the rather destroyed leather seat in front of the console and huddled closely to the keyboard, the cold air from outside managed to sink in through his fur and the rather thin tank top. Glancing up to the screen, he was wondering just what will Sylas do now, while he started to run some quick check-ups on the suit now that it was online and in usage.

{0:56}

He caught a glimpse of the outside world just above his head, some of the clouds were still looming above their heads, a few drops of falling water bringing news of the incoming rain. He could see Sylas' heartbeats grow in intensity but only slightly, making Wulfus think that the wolf was about to give the suit's acrobatic abilities a whirl.

"Alright, all readings are normal, hydraulics are 98% responsive, visibility is around 82.25% no immediate need for night vision. Neural readers are active and set to a sensibility of 2.15, no need to lower the threshold. Suit integrity is 100% and hopefully it will remain the same 'till to the end of this trial. All muscles are active, the electrical weaving underneath is res- what the. Jävla helvetes!" He yelled as he realized that Sylas was dashing full speed ahead after he crouched down to build up hydraulic pressure in his legs, giving the suited wolf an explosive impulse that darted him forwards.

{1:17}

Wulfus was in shock again, his eyes scrambling all over the data he had displayed on his screens to look for any malfunctions, yet, the suit was loving the treatment. What puzzled him even more was just how would he know how to use the suit, how to unlock the kinetic momentum it was able to deliver? As he witnessed the test subject dashing at an ever growing speed and take a giant leap between rooftops, his heart skipped several beats as he caught a glimpse of the ground below through one of the external cameras. When did he thought this test run would be a good idea? One mistake, the slightest of slips, and his suit would be done for, all of his work compromised and lost in an accident. That and he would get Sylas hurt. But seeing him just go at it as if it was no big deal brought an ever growing grin on his face and with every successful jump and landing, Wulfus would whoop in victory and raise his fists; he could barely believe that his suit was working so damn well during the first run ever, excepting a few minor hiccups that wouldn't affect the run too much. Sure, he spent a lot of time quick-testing every module, every fiber, every little circuit after installing them in the suit, a habit that brought a lot of headaches, frustration and rage, but it was all worth it for the final result. What worried him though was the battery consumption: after a few jumps, a continuous dash and that augmented reflex moment when Sylas nearly missed the window, the battery was down at 81%. He wasn't sure if the suit actually consumed that much or if there was a leak anywhere. He couldn't think too much about solving the problem since he had to keep a close eye on Sylas that was just about to challenge a building a tad too tall for him to actually consider jumping on. Panicked, the folf cursed to himself as he jumped away from the consoles and dashed to the living quarters, looking for a headset to jack in and try to contact the wolf in order to stop him; he just managed to pull the cord of the set hard enough to crash his laptop on the floor and reach the main consoles by the time Sylas used the railing of a fire escape ladder to launch himself upwards and thanks to the momentum he built up, he reached the edge of the roof and pulled himself upwards in a fantastic display of amateur acrobatics. Wulfus gawped at the screen in awe, his glasses edging towards falling off his snout as he watched the live feed of the wolf taking a walk on the roof and admiring the scenery; the hydraulics were doing well, the reflex systems were responsive, but the battery was now at 79% already.

{1:50 - pause}

Hearing Sylas' voice through the comms woke the folf up, putting him back in motion as he tried to install the stupid audio software; luckily, it didn't take long and he dragged the headset on his ears. With that, he activated the external microphone also, catching the live sounds of the outside world: car horns, speeding bikes, a distant alarm, sirens, a chopper somewhere in the distance and predominantly, rain. He finally understood the wolf's sudden reluctance and, with a chuckle, he flipped the mic switch on and patched through.

"Yeah, don't worry about that. Even if it were to come from all directions, the suit is waterproof, unless there's a leakage made by some sort of perforation. I haven't figured a way to reseal any perforations or wounds yet, but I am thinking of creating a smart tissue layer that responds to any from of tear or perforation in it's structure by closing it in by building up against the hole. A challenging concept, but I think I could get it to work at some point. Ah, I should note you, the battery consumption on this prototype is ridiculous and I must solve that issue in a way or another, so I would suggest you return to me before it depletes completely; the suit itself is ineffective without power, you see, it's dependent on the internal batteries and until I find a way to recharge it on the field, I-" His scientific mumbling was suddenly interrupted by the wolf bowing towards the general direction of Wulfus' lab and him muttering an apology. The folf was rather confused at first, but as soon as he saw the wolf turn around and press on with the test, the folf was outraged of Sylas' insubordination. "Vad fan! I told you to return, what are you doing?! Fån!" But it was useless, the wolf seemed to be completely deaf to the scientist's rage. Then it came to him: he did attach the headset OUT jack, but forgot to jack in the mic.

{1:50 - cont.}

He dropped on the floor to look for the mic slot, but there weren't any in the front; when he built the console, he didn't consider he'd ever need to use a microphone while he'd be working on it, leaving only the built-in slot from behind the CPU. He had to cram his body between wires, the multiple CPUs secured on the floor, careful enough not to bump into the desktop or against the dedicated cooling system; he did find the slot, but trying to connect the jack took a whole another effort due to awkward positioning and the slot refusing to accept the jack entirely. After a bit of wrestling and struggling, the mic was in and Wulfus pulled out, managing to bump his head against the desk 'thanks' to his tail getting stuck in wires; he quickly released himself and crawled out as quickly as he could and by the time his attention returned to the consoles, he caught Sylas slip once more. Wulfus froze for one second, his heart skipping a few beats, certainly having a negative effect on his health. As Sylas was still struggling to regain control of the sensible situation, the folf's mind gears started spinning, trying to come up with an emergency safety measure in such situations; why didn't he think that incidents like these were likely to happen, he did not know, but he quickly came up with a possible solution. His fingers were tapping all over the keyboard as he coded a number of command lines that would contract all muscles to 100% and brace against Sylas' body in order to transmit the shock of the slam through the suit, hoping the hydraulics and the muscle fibers would reduce the effect while Sylas' body would remain relatively untouched. He was relieved to see that the wolf came out intact from the ordeal, but still, he had to give him a good lecture: he opened his mouth and the first few words he yelled came right back, nearly launching him off the chair. He realized that something was horribly wrong with the audio software and he had to run a debug procedure, as, no matter how hard he tried to reduce the feedback volume coming from the mic, he could still hear himself pretty loudly while Sylas was still deaf. The debug process took painfully long to finish, Wulfus could only watch in concern how his subject was abusing the suit's ability by completing the most dangerous and life-risking stunts the folf had ever had the chance to witness with his own eyes. Both his and Sylas' heart rates and neural activities were off the charts, but the suit was behaving like a glove for the latter, augmenting every move and balancing hydraulic pressure and muscle constriction/contraction with the wolf's own body motion. While there were a lot of numbers on the screens, Wulfus could easily discern the perfect biotechnological harmony that was taking place. Coincidentally, only by the time when Sylas had victoriously reached the top of the 'scraper the debugging process came to a conclusion.

{2:56 - song ends here}

Up there, on the near-top of the world, Sylas' only companions were the famous winds of Chicago putting the accumulated puddles of rainwater in motion, ripples moved from the north-west down to east; the droplets of water running down on the material of the suit were also pushed away by the wind, the external cameras remained untouched by the water. From up there, the city seemed to be but a dark canvas speckled with mostly orange lights, only the closest buildings were visible enough to identify a blocky silhouette accentuated by red beacons on it's edges. A few more red beacons stood vigil in the near distance, signifying the presence of an antenna tower that had to be avoided by passing helicopters or civilian and law enforcement VTOLs. Completely unaware of the trespasser, the two men standing outside on guard were finally announced that the strike team recovered the targeted object and were on the way; their task now was to secure the LZ on the building nearby that was still under construction. They quickly paired up and checked the distance between them and a safety net installed on the other building a few floors lower that could be reached with a powerful enough leap. The slender of the pair was brave enough to be the first to take the risk, so he dashed across the rooftop and without breaking the momentum he gained, he sprung off the edge and pulled the thin air with his arms to add even more hoist; his jump was spot on, if not a bit overshot and nearly crashing into the solid concrete floor. After the sudden adrenaline rush passed away enough to think clearly again, the operator crawled out of the net and waited for his partner that just landed in the same net; the slingshot effect helped him jump out of the net and land on the floor too, performing a roll afterwards to prevent any damaging stress on his ankles. They immediately made their way to a series of ropes in the middle of the floor dangling from high above; they both grabbed a pair of ropes and quickly identified which one was tied to the weight on the roof and once they attached themselves to them and jerked the ropes once, they found themselves pulled up with a great speed.

All in the meanwhile Wulfus finally patched through, a new icon appearing on Sylas' display in the form of a rectangle containing a question mark, a volume indicator and frequency number, due to it being a direct communication link from the console to the inner computer of the helmet. While at first the sound was choppy, it quickly equalized itself to a bearable rate, if having a very angry scientist yelling straight in your ear would be bearable at any rate. "JAVLA- UGH! What in the hell was that? You nearly died about, what, five times the whole run? When I told you to go on a test run, I did NOT mean to abuse-test it! By the stars, I couldn't have done much from here if you would've slipped; I could just make the whole suit a bombshell to somehow keep your integrity to a certain rate, but you'd still burst open arteries, maybe shatter smaller bones! I-" He took a short break to regather his wits and take a deep breath to calm himself down, even if it was a little. "Letting the very important factor of you dying and ruining my suit aside, from what I could read here, everything worked perfectly: the muscles were above 95% responsive, hydraulic pressure balanced all over even during extreme stress and the reflex systemics worked perfectly even with the theoretic threshold I tuned. You were able to save yourself in those tight situations thanks to them, but if you were on your own, you'd be a meat pancake flattened on the street. Nevertheless..." Wulfus raised his snout from the facepalm and started to chuckle to himself, loud enough to be heard through the line; the chuckle soon turned to laughter. "It works! Oh my god, it actually works! I was so afraid that this suit would end up being a non-functional display thing, but no, it actually runs perfectly! Sylas, damn, thanks for offering, man; I got scared there, but you stressed the suit really hard and it behaved very well, except for one thing: the battery's nearly dead, it's down to 32% and I don't know what the hell's draining it that bad. I think it's best you return here, but it take it easy this time. I don't want you to run out of power while in mid-air- wait. Wait, hold up." The folf squinted his eyes and raised up the volume from the suit's microphone, picking up a weird, hissing sound. "Do you hear that? Like... sounds like a saw... or a hiss? Or a rope?" He then gasped in surprise as he saw something similar to a fur's silhouette suddenly materialize in the far right side of the helmet's cameras. "Sylas! On your right! Hide!" The wolf was cursing to himself, imagining the sever complications of someone actually discovering these two blokes and their cyber-suit antics.

{Loop}

The said silhouette immediately picked up Sylas on his left and in a moment's shock, he nearly dismissed him for being one of the team, maybe a member of the company's top brass; one second later he realized he never saw a suit like that before in his life and, should the top brass decide to join in to supervise the operation, they would have notified them. Shock turned into a mix of fear, confusion and mostly anger as he pulled out a collapsible stun baton from its holster on his right thigh; he couldn't imagine just how this one guy managed to end up there, knowing that these operations are top-secret, but since he was all suited up, it couldn't be just a freak coincidence. He was there to stop them and he with his team could not fail this mission.

"You there! Stop where you are, hands in the air! Who sent you, WHO are you?" He challenged the wolf as he approached him at a careful, but quick enough pace, the stun baton buzzing very slightly with electricity and ready to strike if the situation would turn out bad. His partner just showed up and released himself from the rope and quickly grabbed the stun pistol from it's sheath and radioed in mission control, speaking at a barely audible tone. Thanks to Sylas' suit enhancements, Wulfus could easily pick up what he was whispering.

"MC, this is Fox 2, we have a Code 2 on the El-Zed. Affiliation is unknown, we've never seen someone like this guy before."

The lion raised his hand to halt the luxurious vehicle he was seated in and ordered the driver to turn up the radio louder.

"Requesting permission to neutralize Code 2, over."

"This is MC, permission granted. Make sure Code 2 is Condition 1, do NOT eliminate, I repeat, do NOT eliminate Code 2, do acknowledge."

"Acknowledged."

The lion raised his eyebrows, being genuinely surprised of this incident. He pulled out a device from an inside pocket of his suit and patched in to the mission control frequency.

"MC come in, this is A5. I want a solid visual capture on Code 2, stream it on the following line: 223AB551-13-A5."

And with that, he pulled a personal touch pad from the glove box and quickly connected it to an internal network and accepted the live video stream. He could see the shape of a suited fur, but the suit's design was foreign to him. He knew no opposition to own such a model, if one could call that suit a model at all; it was clearly an original, extremely advanced design, if not experimental. He knew only two companies that could make combat suits like those: his own and ComTech Armory, a company he owned. The shiba bodyguard opened a protective panel from above his head and pulled a monitor through which he could also follow the stream, catching a glimpse of the Code 2 standing right there on the LZ.

"I know no company to own something like that. And it can't be some prankster fool, the location is too isolated for a pure coincidence. Could it be some foreign block that opposes us? Chief?" The shiba turned his head around with a rather concerned expression. The lion though kept his calm and let out a barely audible sigh.

"I know I've seen it somewhere before. But no, it's not someone big, they wouldn't dare to simply jump in the middle of an op. They would try to talk us out of it instead of intervening directly; we'll interrogate him once he's captured, we're bound to pull out something intriguing from him."

The rest of the team was still struggling to reach the roof of the bank, their pace was now forced into a more alert one. The two confronting the intruder were approaching him ever so carefully, the one in front with the stun baton was drawing closer and closer while the one armed with the stun pistol held it in a relaxed position, trusting that his burly partner could put down the SOB. He thought of placing himself behind cover, but there was little to nothing on the roof: a few steel beams that would support the next floor, a few ropes here and there, one or two concrete walls that were out of reach and that was it. Water pooled on the concrete floor, the rain had it steadily growing and the wind moving it to the east, against them; the rain wasn't doing good to the stun baton either, sparks and crackles would come from it as water drops came in contact with the electrified rod. Without a warning, he charged at Sylas preparing to strike the Code 2 somewhere on his sides, a blow that could easily break someone's ribs; he wouldn't know of the suit's raised toughness, as these two did not seem to be equipped with any special gear, as they were suited in some sort of overalls fight for night operations, their faces covered with what seemed to be light combat helmets and a gas mask. Wulfus cringed as the man was preparing to assault Sylas, fearing for his life and the suit's integrity.

"Sylas, run! Don't just stand there, do something!"

While Wulfus indeed suggested the wolf to get a move on, ANY move in fact, he did not expect to see him react to the attacker that way. The cameras, albeit offering a shaky footage, caught a first-person look at a very painful display of a crude disarming technique; the offender lost it's stun baton and most likely the integrity of its wrist and after, its consciousness thanks to Sylas' intense training and the suit's responsive reflex system that helped him pull the offender from kneeling on its feet and up against the incoming prongs fired by the second guard. Then followed a huge jolt of hydraulic energy launching the wolf straight into the second guard and with a simple, yet, effective throw move, he lifted it up and slammed it hard against the concrete floor; while the guard was still alive, the rest of his life wouldn't be easy to live with multiple possible fractures and spinal lesions. The hybrid held his snout shut with both his hands, a few desperate yelps escaped as the wolf was putting the aggressors out of commission, the information pouring in from all sensors overwhelming his already stressed out mind. When the coast seemed clear for a brief few moments, he let go of his foxy snout to attempt at uttering a few words of dismay, but he was cut off by a very calm and recollected Sylas; hearing confidence in his voice offered him some reassurance that the wolf had some idea of what he was doing, even though it was most obvious that they just got involved in a rather messy business there. And, as if his world wasn't properly messed up, a loud blast crushed the folf's eardrums, his hand instinctively slammed into his lab coat pocket from where he produced a high end phone. Upon seeing the identity of the caller, his heart sunk deeper still, his teeth gritted at the thought of having to confront this person when he was in this messed up situation. The only thing he could do was to answer, otherwise, the caller would then insist and finally, barge in his warehouse. He took off the headset and swept his thumb across the screen and brought up the device to his ear, bearing a shaky grin.

"Hallå, god kväll! Uh, ja, I'm good, quite swell, really-" his voice was also wavering as he was struggling to keep a close eye on the monitor and at the situation, while the rest of him was concentrating to come up with competent replies on the phone. His grin turned into complete dismay, the voice piercing through the phone speakers bearing really bad news.

"Ja- I mean, no, no! You don't need to come, Sy- I mean. No, I'm alone, no one came." He lied shamelessly, covering half is his snout in frustration and dismay, his eyes locked on the screen. He almost lost it when he saw a VTOL creeping up from the right camera, the accumulated frustration forming a suffocating knot in his throat nearly bellowed out.

"FFFF- NO! You stay home, shit, I mean, go home! No, I'm fine, I'm fine, I don't need your presence to calm me down, you'll only- no, I am NOT crying!" But, in reality, he didn't know what kept him from bursting into tears of rage and dismay. "No, NO! Don't you-" he then threw an incredulous look at his screen, seeing that the person hung up on him and it was more than sure that it was going to come straight at him.

"You have got to be kidding me."
"You have got to be kidding me."

The lion had a very bitter expression, his snout wrinkled and his small eyes affixed on the screen. He just witnessed two 'expert' infiltrators neutralized by a single individual armed only with his limbs and armored in a suit with impressive abilities; he wasn't sure if this was someone's idea of a defying show-off or if it was a genuine threat to the integrity of their supposedly secret operations. The feed was cut off abruptly when the camera on the second guard was crushed on the ground, the final image was that of wet concrete. The shiba guard frowned heavily and scoffed in disbelief, only him and his superior were brave enough to have any vocal reaction in the car, the driver and the rest of the bodyguards were completely silent in their shock.

"I know an aikido user when I see one and that man certainly studied it enough to have it in his muscle memory. Only if-"

"Silence, Shiro," the lion ordered him "our high-value item is still at risk, I'm not particularly interested in that fool's martial arts proficiency. MC, this is A5, patch me through the escape VTOL camera and communications now!" Said and done, on the portable screens now came to life a new perspective over the city, that of a Hummingbird BE 09 on its way to the target location; the feed was on thermal, the thermally active signals in this colored wold were emphasized by a red square marking them. Soon, the vehicle arrived at the secondary LZ, the bank rooftop, where it picked the rest of the infiltration crew on ropes, two stepping inside the open deployment side-doors. As the VTOL was about to pull out, the lion quickly patched in.

"You're not about to leave two of our men behind to be interrogated, are you? Get there and shut him down, or at least recover the incapacitated." With some reluctance, the VTOL pilot acknowledged at pulled the 'bird over to the construction site, where the rest of the infiltrators immediately engaged in combat. The superior peered his eyes at the screen, trying his best to discern what was going on, until the aircraft blasted the spotlight right on the nuisance, now seeing two of the operators charge synchronously at him.

"Weapons are ready, sir" communicated the pilot, obtaining a frown from the lion "I doubt anyone will hear weapon fire from up here, sir."

"Roger, but remember, I need him alive. If there's no other alternative, gun him down."

Completely oblivious of the rather dramatic situation taking place high above in the cloudy skies, a female fox-wolf halfbreed was taking her final goodbyes to her friends outside a fancy little patio restaurant properly guarded from the rain that was still plaguing the city. She smiled and laughed girlishly while talking gibberish with her friends at high speed, shielding her precious, expensive black coat and a long, carefully trimmed and curled blonde hair dyed in an ombre styled color degradation to a chestnut tint. She turned around with a final wave of her delicate hand and headed towards her dark gray sports car, ever so careful to avoid water puddles, she didn't want to ruin her black knee-length boots that showed off her perfectly-shaped calves sprouting from under the coat, along with a dark pair of jeans just hinting her generous thighs. She got in the driver's seat and shook the umbrella clean outside the car. She stored it on the back seat - stored, as in, tossed leisurely - and with some effort, she took off her coat to reveal a long, baggy and silky dark grey blouse and a delicate pendant with small emeralds that contrasted perfectly with her own set of green eyes. She reclined in her seat to seek the comfort of her three month old car and sighed under her breath, annoyed by the cigarette smoke that clung to her clothes. She dreaded the meetup that came up, but she wanted to somehow brighten his night; she took off her pair of boots and placed them on the front passenger seat, stretching and wriggling her toes enveloped by a thin pair of socks and rested them on the two pedals protruding from the car floor. She buckled in, the belt producing a slight discomfort in her considerable bosom, a sensation she had to get used to; she preferred safety over comfort and she was particularly zealous in that sense, forcing her sibling to do the same whether he'd be the driver or the passenger. The car came to life with a purr after she pushed in the ignition button all the way in and she took off from the parking lot, headed straight down the lane and towards her next destination. It wouldn't be a long ride there and the traffic was surprisingly thin for a Friday night, the only issues stopping her progress were the red lights constantly cutting off her momentum. Her mind drifted off and away while she vacantly concentrated on the street, the low volume of her radio keeping her ears busy with background noise, but her nose picked up her cigarette-smoke coated clothes, not to mention that she still felt too hot; she popped her window open just enough to let some of the oxygenated air rush in and not get herself wet from the insisting rain. A distant rumbling echoed against the tall buildings, something that sounded much like a thunder roll, but, she couldn't count how many times the thunder roll repeated in a burst-like sequence; she thought that it was rather odd, but, paid no attention. Soon enough, the red light at the intersection cornering the Harris Bank cut her, forcing an exasperated grunt from her neck; having no choice, she rested her muzzle on the top of her steering wheel and puffed some air, blinking in boredom. From this angle, she caught a shadow of sorts appear over her head, her head instinctively shifted up only to see a large, dark figure fly over her car and over to the left; instinct dictated her to follow the shape with her head until it crashed into the alley nearby with a tremendous boom. She yelped and ducked in, not knowing what in the world that was all about and not knowing if it could hurt her in any way; after a few seconds of other crashing sounds, some garbage spilling over, tin cans rolling on the concrete and the lid coming off to land with a thud, she raised her head back up to glance over at the incident and immediately wanted to investigate. She could exit the vehicle and perform a quick check if it weren't for another car just coming behind her, forcing her to stay in; she had to wait until it was green light to move a few feet forwards and park illegally so she could get out to check the alleyway.

Another particular person was interested in what just landed in that very same alleyway and he had no time to lose; he saw the enemy agent performing an impressively precise, yet, forceful land in a dumpster located in the alley facing across from the construction site. That after it took down each and every operator, so that's quite a feat. He knew the boss was desperate the moment he allowed the VTOL use its mounted chain gun to subdue the attacker, but yet again, he proved to be a capable nuisance and escape fire; owning a portable, or mounted, firearm in a city as a civilian, or even as a paramilitary/security company, is a severe violation of the Global Peace and Conflict Suppression Edict punishable by a lifetime in prison and dismantling of all operations the violator had going if he was a businessman. Firing one would put one on death row, the violator and the individual firing the weapon; they were incredibly lucky with the stormy weather, as the 12.7 mm bursts would be partially muffled by rain, wind and would be mistaken for being thunder rolls. Another smart decision was to use caseless ammunition, leaving no empty shells behind or falling from all the way up; sure, it was a rainy day, but a rain with brass, empty shells would be rather suspicious for those below. Hopefully, no one from below would even imagine what disaster just happened above their heads, what powerful blow Dragon Star Echelon, its financial supporters and the C.E.O. himself just had to suffer. While it was not an incapacitating hit, it would definitely throw the several months-worth off planning off balance, mostly because this agent just knew exactly what he was looking for.

But as soon red-eyed figure constantly cloaked by the shadows secretly received personal word from the superior to stay close to the target location - the bank - he moved right out the window from that high floor and allowed himself to slide down the short-angled slope of the building, his own combat suit resisting quite nicely against friction as gravity pulled him downwards. He had quite a view, the world coming closer to his feet, winds blasting against him and his vision speckled with running droplets of rain creeping to the side, pushed away by momentum; seeing he was nearing the lip of the slope, he threw his head over his shoulder to catch a glimpse at the closest and tallest building he could land on safely, no easy task as he was about to fall off the tallest building in Chicago City. He spotted a relatively close roof and a tower atop tall enough for him to reach without risking breaking anything in his body, maybe one hundred meters away, judging it to be good enough for him. Thanks to a dangerous mix of courage, skill, concentration, recklessness and discipline, he pulled his legs together and prepared to spring off the very lip and when the moment arrived, he did not hesitate: his leg muscles pumped and slammed hard against the edge, the power of the suit contributing to the explosive force he outputted to launch his small frame away and in air. Now, nothing stood between him and the ground several hundred meters below, the city looking especially stunning and terrifying from this height, but his gaze was locked on the tower, his only chance to survive the fall; the short-lived moment of weightlessness passed very slowly, what lasted a couple of seconds felt like minutes to him, definitely being something one could never grow old to. Lights and rectangular shapes represented the world below, ahead were more lights shaping buildings and a lake of darkness and straight in his gaze was the communications tower of the building below. As soon as he felt his insides build up against his diaphragm, he reached for the massive rappel D carabiner from a device stuck on his lower back and attached on a strong harness integrated in the specialized suit under the combat vest and pulled hard, unlocking it from its place so he could start swinging it in a counter-clockwise circular motion above his head; he had to put an extra effort to keep the spinning motion, as the ever growing momentum from the fall had the tendency to pull the rope back up, but once the rangefinder installed on his optics read 89 meters, he hurled the line towards the tower that would soon be on his right and hoped that he timed the launch correctly, the ground below was closing in at an alarming pace, feeling his heart pounding hard enough he feared it was about to fracture his sternum. A distant metallic clang confirmed that he was successful and immediately reached for the device at his back and squeezed the lock hard, feeling the rope slowly pulling him back up. He didn't want to halt his descent abruptly as it would end him, instead, he allowed himself to fall maybe a few more meters to slow down just enough to have the line plus the momentum from a swinging motion; as expected, his plan worked out as expected, finding himself pulled back up by the rope and closing in on the left side of the building and once he was close enough, he gripped the nigh-burning rope and yanked himself away from it, coming horizontally against the panes of the skyscraper. Thanks again to his suit, he could easily pick up the rather fats pace of his ascent, effectively running against the wall and up towards the rooftop's edge; soon, he stomped hard against the concrete with his left foot and landed on the top edge of the rooftop soft enough not to make a noise and quickly flipped his body forwards into a roll by launching himself at the narrow edge with the right foot. He managed to cut most of the momentum, sliding maybe two more feet on one knee before he came to a halt by locking the device on his back.

He then tapped something on the small, reinforced screen latched on the inside of his left forearm, releasing the lock on the D carabiner and yanked at the rope until it came off the metallic frame it latched onto so he could automatically roll the rope back in the device, all in the meanwhile he was assessing his surroundings to make sure there was no one on the roof with him. Once he was sure there was no one around, he took off at a slower pace and keeping his profile low, considering he made enough noise with the rope, carabiner and the wall-run. He carefully advanced on the narrow edge, never losing balance and never making a sound until he reached the corner, where he came to a stop so he could take a low down at the next building closest to him. Judging that the fall would be withing the suit's power limit, he pushed himself up to a half-crouch to take a batter look at the distance between the buildings; now that he was sure he was going to make it, he jumped up and away, landing a few moments later on the other rooftop, rolled to save his ankles and pressed against an air vent as he just heard something on the same rooftop: chatter. Realizing that he was heard, but luckily unseen, he soon figured that it must have been the little puddle of water accumulated right on the spot where he landed. He couldn't peek over or at the sides as it would expose his personalized helmet, so instead, he pulled a thin cord from the forearm-mounted screen, bent it at a 90 degree angle and stretched around the corner of the vent, granting him a green-tinted, night vision look at whoever was coming: it was a man, clearly taller than him, half drunk and half asleep spewing profanities so that his female partner would be impressed by this display of bravery. Judging that there was a light source from this guy's general direction, he couldn't slip right under his alcohol-reeking snout, instead he crept back and, using his inherent flexibility and precise muscle control, he took a short, low lunge at an adjacent vent and sneaked against the wall facing away the drunkard. Since both of their eyes would be too accommodated with high luminosity from inside their apartment, he felt confident enough to come out from cover while the drunken man was still searching for him, nearly falling flat on his nose due to his balance impairment, while his partner kept looking back and forth, constantly ruining her inherent night vision. Thus, he simply crept away, keeping his body about half-a-foot from the ground without compromising his extreme mobility until he sprung over the longitudinal concrete block separating this flat from the one it was fused together with and as soon as he was sure he was away from their detection range, he slowly raised from his crouched position and built the pace back up.

By this time, he heard the news of the enemy agent; while surprised, to some extent, he was not shocked as he deemed his superior to be overconfident with this entire operation, so much that he dropped several contingency plans; or maybe the contingency plan boss had was himself. Either way, he had to move fast, the bank was still a few blocks away, but lucky for him, most of the building in this area were of roughly the same height; his moderate silent run quickly turned into a controlled sprint, using his soles and toes to propel himself at an ever growing speed while still keeping a relatively silent profile. Most of the obstacles in his way blended together, focusing on the bank that came closer and closer as he advanced, until he reached the intersection facing it and the LZ across and only a few moments after his arrival, the gunship above just finished firing its last burst before the agent became invisible; it wasn't his concern that the VTOL and boss just trampled over the no-firearm edict, what concerned him was the possible escape route the agent would take. His had some options, some would have him get closely chased by the VTOL even if it wouldn't be able to shoot at him safely, he could be bold enough to reach ground level and escape via the sewers or the metro line, but he would have that covered. But he did not expect to witness a silhouette launch itself right into an alleyway. He knew the VTOL didn't see him and to give them the heads up would mean his head getting chopped off: he was sure Shiro didn't know boss sent him to the LZ to monitor the operation from a distance as that would piss the dog off bad enough to have his own neck sliced open. He was forced to wait for a few more moments just to make sure the VTOL wasn't about to descent right at the alley, as that would mean he had to hide too, but once he was confident that it didn't see the agent land here, he leaped between two buildings neighboring the alley and then made sure he descended in the alley silently, keeping his eyes peeled and his sensors open for any movement. He was ready to fight, ready to kill and judging by everyone's stupor, this one man was definitely a skilled fighter. Although he took quite the fall, he wasn't sure of his suit's capabilities, he may still be in top notch condition and ready to fend off any other attacker. But not him. He slowly approached a green dumpster placed against the outside wall of the building, keeping his profile low and his hands ready to draw the short blade affixed on his back through a sliding system that allowed the scabbard slide down as he pulled the sword out so that he could draw it with minimum movement and exposure; if it were mounted on his waist, it would bump into everything or maybe even break and lose the damn thing. By now, he was right next to the dumpster and seeing no movement from inside, he thought that the agent was still hiding inside, hoping for he VTOL to scurry off already. He took a moment to measure the dumpster's height and traced an imaginary line where he might be so he could pull out his blade and impale him through the rather flimsy, plastic material of the bin.

But as he was about to draw the blade from its scabbard, he picked up a woman at three-o-clock blurting "Is anybody there, are you okay?". He spotted her with the corner of his right eye approaching cautiously, one hand trying to hold a coat on her shoulders to fend off the rain while the other held her phone with the flashlight on; he had to quickly scurry over and adhere to the building wall behind the dumpster to avoid detection, this rather annoying surprise making him lose precious time in which he could have taken the bastard down. He pulled thin cord out of his forearm and bent it again to take a look at whoever just arrived: a rather tall she-wolf with foxy traits, long blonde hair, casually dressed and obviously scared. As she approached the dumpster, he prepared to make contact and neutralize her; he couldn't cut her down, as that would be too suspicious, he could instead inflict enough damage to look as if she threw herself in a successful "suicide" attempt, as it would fit with the loud bang heard at this hour. She was but inches away from his position, he could even smell the expensive fragrance she was wearing combined with cigarette smoke and see a bit of her shape just around the corner. Being too afraid and cold, she left as soon as the VTOL made its own appearance, desperately searching for the target, while the communications were filled with chaos and anger, boss was most likely searing on the inside while Shiro would promise to have everyone's heads on platters for dinner. With the VTOL gone, he was sure he would have the man as now he just got out of the dumpster and sustained himself against the opposing wall; it was a miracle that he didn't see him, but he was glad he had a nice, close view over the SOB. Indeed, his armor, suit, exoskeleton, whatever it may be, was something else: the exterior was smooth and perfectly interlocked in places, some external muscles were visible here and there, the helmet was rather bulky, but otherwise, an incredible sight to look at. SOB definitely had the hardware advantage, no wonder he survived such a fall even with the damage his suit endured; now he was at his weakest, ripe to be killed as he was too sore and broken to keep steady on his own feet. He stepped away from his cover and with prudence, he approached the limping spy from behind, his blade half-drawn out and ready to test the suit's resistances. Just as he was about to take a cut at the knees, he froze in place as he could hear police sirens storming straight for the alley; he was sure SOB would at least take a glance over the shoulder to the sound of the sirens, but instead, started to run away, while he himself had to remain locked in place to avoid any sudden movement that would alert him. Synchronization was against him tonight as just when the target got out of range and into the slums, the police appeared from behind and lit up their lights right behind him. By the time they started investigating the dumpster, he was back on top and trying to track the target as he was getting away, when the boss just called him back to the meeting place. For once, he felt anger build in his bowels, knowing that he could have caught him right there, but everything worked against him. Now, he had to make a hasty return before boss and Shiro reached back, so, he took a final glance over his shoulder and sprinted away into the shadows, where he belonged.

Meanwhile, the blonde she-wolf just arrived at a large depot, building up her broken courage to step in and face her brother after the startling event she witnessed. She really hoped that it wasn't a suicidal. Just as he got out of the car and ready to open the front door, which he promised to unlock this time, she felt her feet wet and cold, completely forgetting to put her boots back on. Cursing everything around her, she turned back to her car and opened the passenger seat to sit down, throw the wet socks somewhere in the back and put on the boots. Just while, right behind her, a certain suited man just appeared out of nowhere and barely limped through the front door, accidentally slamming the door and startling her again. She took a glimpse by the time the door was shut and locked itself automatically, pulling out an angry groan from her chest. Wulfus was torn apart and pulling at his hairs, when he saw the woman just outside returning to her car to put her boots on. I really hope Sylas miraculously appears after she leaves he said to himself, desperate that he couldn't contact the wolf anymore. He was sure he kicked the bucket when he landed in the dumpster, himself nearly fainted a few times as he fought the operators off and ran way from gunfire. While audio completely cut off, he still had some camera feed, having a bit of hope that Sylas was still intact. The motion sensor went crazy at one point after the landing, signaling someone's presence dangerously close to the wolf's back, but he dismissed it as malfunction. His train of thoughts were interrupted as he caught with his eyes his own suit just crashing in his home, right under the woman's nose. The sight made Wulfus nearly yell and forced him to stand up and pull Sylas in.

The suit was a proper mess: dents, a scratch, the palms were slightly scorched, the helmet had an extra curvature and it stank like a carcass hidden in a trash can containing baby diapers, an enchanting odor that nearly had the hybrid faint again. The wolf muttered something from inside the suit, but Wulfus had more pressing issues at hand so he yanked Sylas and forced him into the tanker that held the once-intact suit and covered it with the blanket and quickly ran to open the door back up, only to have the woman storm in the lab to check just what was he trying to hide. Wulfus could only follow her and swallow nervously, giving her a crooked, tired and lame smile.

"Hey, Wulfina." He uttered, nearly broken.

His 24 year old younger sister crossed her arms and gave him one of her trademark chilling stares, Wulfus could only lower his head and expect her voice to boom at him.

"I thought I told you to leave me in, to unlock the door. You see me arrive, you see that I get off the car, with no boots, only my socks! My socks, Wulfus! What do you do? You lock the damn door back up like some vindictive bitch you are, ohmygosh, you are an absolute freak!"

" 'Tis definitely nice to see you again, sis."

"Don't you pull that crap attitude on me, I'm here because I wanted to not leave you by yourself, I know how you get when you are especially lonely! My freakin', I'm in my socks on wet asphalt and he locks the door. While I'm in my socks! And the smell in this place, have you ever cleaned it up, it smells like trash! Have you showered lately? Ugh, you wouldn't believe what just happened right in front of Harris Bank just at the exit from downtown."

His heart sank and fell through him, on the floor. It was over. He then simply broke and started crying, trying his best to cut her off, claiming he could explain. Surprised by this sudden change of attitude, Wulfina could only stop and try to comfort her way older brother, realizing she might have been a bit too rough with him before.

"I was piss drunk" he started "and had this idea: why not call my friends to help me with something, yaknow? No one came, man, no one came. But-" he then stopped, being too afraid to confess to her just what happened, his few tears turning into sobs. Trying her best to be supportive, she laid a hand across his shoulders, gingerly, as she feared to pick yet another horrible smell on her blouse.

"Easy, breathe. Look at you, oh gosh. You should come with me more, sitting here alone, look what it does to you: your experiments don't talk back, your computer doesn't feel, your tools can't touch you back and, like, interact with you. You'll end up like that guy at Harris Bank tonight, some guy that just threw himself somehow and landed across the street in the alley and in the dumpster. Not sure it was actually someone, but-"

Wulfus choked and raised his congested eyes to look at his sister desperately. "So you didn't see who- what it was?"

Perplexed by the question she frowned and shook her head "N-no, I didn't. Why-"

"Ach, good- I mean, it's good that it didn't hit you. You could've been in that alley, yaknow."

"I was in the car the whole time."[b/] She said with a mildly confused expression, blaming it on the alcohol.

Their discussion was short lived, not long later Wulfus opened the tanker and released Sylas to take another look at his creation battered, scratched and lifeless. With disgust on his face, the hybrid took a cloth and attempted to wipe some garbage juice off an arm and the abdomen. He then took another look at the suit, assessing that most of the damage seemed to be superficial, even identifying the reason why communications were fuzzy: he reached over to the helmet's external audio system on the left side to pull a banana peel stuck right into the antenna. He took one final look and with only half of his snout, he uttered:

[b]"Take it off." And left the lab. By the time the wolf was in his unmentionables, the hybrid returned and in the same fashion, he ordered "Take a shower."

When the wolf returned, Wulfus prepared his first aid kit to take a look at any problem he could fix: there were bruises everywhere, the palms were a bit sore but nothing serious, one nasty contusion persisted on Sylas' back, but there were no cuts, a very good sign. All bones were intact and the spine was still working, finding no loose vertebrae. He treated the contusion with an ice pack and prepared some anti-inflammatory paste, bandage and painkillers. When done, he let the wolf dress back up and have him sit down. Wulfus took himself a few moments to mutter anything.

"The suit- the suit worked. It has an obvious power issue I must look into, the external antenna is too flimsy, I've yet to calibrate the software and I'd might look into a better boot design, you were a bit unsure with these ones. Otherwise, it worked. It wasn't the test-run I expected, but it performed excellently, I'm especially happy with the reflex systemics: it save your life four times. Damage looks superficial, most of the crash-landing shock was absorbed by the exoskeletal muscles, but I don't see any hydraulic leaks to give away a muscle tear or rupture. I'll analyze the data tomorrow. You go to sleep in the bed, I take the couch and we'll talk in the morning, I'm sure we can make something out of this once our brains are fresh again. Agreed?"

He didn't wait for the wolf to reply and simply left him, heading out of the lab. He hurled himself in the couch, crushing a few shirts and the TV remote, his lab coat acting once more as a blanket; he forced his eyes shut and tried to empty his mind, feeling simply too tired to cope with everything in that moment. He couldn't really find a comfortable spot, obviously missing the comfort of his own messy bedroom, but he managed to fall asleep some point during that night and slept like a rock 'til dawn. It was Saturday, so his alarm clock wouldn't go off and wake Sylas up, but Wulfus' own biological clock woke him up somewhere around 9:05; dazzled and lost, the folf pushed himself up and tried to stretch his aching back, wincing at the stiffness gripping his back muscles in a painful tension. He brewed some coffee for him and Sylas and also cooked a massive portion of scrambled cheesy eggs for both of them and entered the lab with the breakfast; he ruffled his already messy blonde mop of hair and adjusted his pair of glasses as he started to run some diagnostics on the main console and initialize some debugging routines before he'd analyze in detail all data he picked up from the suit. While the console was working all by itself, he turned his attention to a side console where he started to analyze the video and audio feed, trying to look for clues regarding to who were those people. When Sylas got up, Wulfus invited him to take a seat on the tool cupboard he offered last night.

" Morning. There, those are for you. I'm trying to look for anything to put an ID tag on these guys. Whoever they were, they were pretty well organized; too organized to be some small-time gang and way too bold for a mafia clan. All in all, we made quite a mess of their operation, I only hope that it was a good thing we did there." He said to him with a rough, morning voice and a small smirk. "I'm not mad at you, Sairasu-san, though I was really afraid. Afraid that you'd might end up dying because I had the stupid idea of strapping that thing onto you; that and losing my suit, in all honesty. I've worked a lot on it, it's my trademark and last night, it definitely proved its worth. So I must say: I am sorry for putting you through this, but I also thank you for giving me the opportunity to have my creation, my child tested on the field. Properly so. I think I found a dent in the back torso piece where a bullet hit you: it's a light scrape with some tiny lead residue stuck in the fiber. So there's that.

But right now, I'm trying to figure just who these guys were. They're good at organizing their stuff, there's been no reports of a robbery on the news, neither the VTOL firing down at you. Whatever you interrupted there got them mad enough to break several ethical laws and thing is, they didn't expect something to go wrong; that's a sign that these guys are big, big enough to be confident that no one would dare to oppose them. It can't be simple crooks, nor mafia, nor some criminal syndicate. It has to be something much more dire: a PMC. What would they want from the bank, I don't- hold on. You picked something up?" He asked as he froze the footage in a frame where Sylas was gazing at a shiny object. Unable to identify whatever he was holding, he took a look over at the suit of armor sprawled on the floor. "Why don't you bring it to me?" He asked before he took a bite out of the slightly unseasoned eggs.