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/011_Fearless


Up until today, I’d never experienced or seen a Shadowtask mission first hand. Whenever Caine or Locke ventured out into the city, their reasons were always shrouded in secrecy. I’d asked about their missions a few times, but I never got a straight answer. It wasn’t until Data took me to see Solai for myself that Shadowtask seemed willing to share more.

Last night, I barely rested. At around 1:30 a.m., Data and Caine entered my living quarters to brief me on my first mission as part of the team. The briefing was concise, their tone professional but laced with a hint of urgency.

"This is an interception mission," Data began, his voice steady and calm. "Caine has carried out operations like this before, but tonight, you’ll be working together."

I nodded, trying to process the weight of what he was saying. “What are we intercepting?” I asked, reaching for my audio recorder to capture the details.

Data leaned over my desk, projecting a 3D render onto its surface. The glowing image highlighted a section of the city near the east border gate of the Dark District, close to the inner city waterway. “Locke uncovered intel suggesting a ‘transaction’ is going down at around 4 a.m. It’s between a gang called the Red Dogs and an unknown party.”

“The Red Dogs?” I asked, unfamiliar with the name.

Caine crossed his arms, smirking slightly. “Low-level street thugs,” he said. “Petty theft, violence—you name it. Recently, they’ve been dealing in black-market tech from Arketeq: forged ID chips, fake credit balances. But word is, they’ve got their hands on something rare tonight. Something valuable. Which means, for them, tonight’s payday.”

Data continued, his tone sharpening as he laid out the specifics. The 3D render shifted to display two neon lines—one red, one blue—representing Caine and me. The lines started at the same point and ran parallel for about three miles before splitting just shy of the target location.

“You’ll ride together for most of the journey,” Data explained, “but once you approach the target zone, you’ll separate. Caine will head to the transaction point on foot, while you position yourself on the rooftop of a nearby apartment block. Your job will be to monitor the interception from above and provide any necessary support.”

It sounded simple enough in theory, but I couldn’t shake the unease building in my chest. Data noticed. “Get some rest,” he said, his tone softer as he turned to leave.

Caine, ever the joker, added, “And prepare for a workout.”

Needless to say, I spent the next couple of hours lying awake, running through every possible scenario in my head. Sleep barely came, and when it did, it was short-lived—no more than 35 minutes.

At 2:45 a.m., Caine’s voice echoed through the door of my living quarters. “It’s time, man! Let’s see what you’re made of!”

I glanced at the holo-clock on my desk, the glowing numbers confirming I had only 15 minutes to get ready. Luckily, I’d slept in my clothes to save time.

The door slid open as Caine let himself in, tossing a small device toward me. “Catch,” he said. It was an earpiece. “Put this in. We’ll use it to communicate with each other and the rest of Shadowtask.”

I inserted the earpiece, following his instructions to sync it with the host named ST-498. After a few seconds, I heard the audio confirmation message.

“Good,” Caine said, grinning. “Now let’s test it.”

We ran a quick check on the connection as we made our way to the mission briefing area. The rest of Shadowtask was already there, waiting. The room was dimly lit, the glow of Data’s monitors casting long shadows across the walls. Locke stood off to the side, his posture rigid, while Clova reviewed something on a tablet.

The weight of the moment hit me as I stepped into the room. This was it—my first mission. I had no idea what to expect, but for the first time, I felt like I was about to play an active role in uncovering the truths that had eluded me for so long.


"It's time. You ready?" Data asked, his tone calm but carrying an undertone of urgency.

"Yeah, I think so," I replied, though my voice betrayed a hint of nervousness.

Caine pulled his hood over his head, obscuring his face in shadow, then rolled his hoodie sleeve down to completely cover his metal arm. The transformation was subtle but effective—he looked like any other street kid from Solai, not a member of an underground resistance.

Data continued, “It’s important to stay undetected until we intercept the transaction. No unnecessary moves. We’ll stay in contact the whole time, and if anything goes south, triple-tap your earpiece. We’ll get your exact location and come to you.”

Caine scoffed as he moved toward the window overlooking Solai’s endless sprawl of neon lights and towering buildings. “Don’t freak the guy out, I wanna see what he’s made of!” he said with a grin.

I opened my mouth to shoot back a sarcastic comment, but before I could speak, Caine leapt off the balcony without hesitation. His figure vanished into the darkness below, his voice faintly echoing back up to me. “See you in the lobby!”

Locke, leaning against the elevator at the back of the room, let out a long sigh. “You’ve got one hour,” he said, his voice flat but laced with warning. “Don’t fuck this up.”

I stepped into the elevator, its cold, sterile light reflecting off the steel walls. As it descended, I tried to steady my breathing, focusing on the task ahead.

When I reached the lobby, Caine was already there, leaning casually against the wall, looking as smug as ever. “You gonna be able to keep up, man?” he asked, his smirk practically begging for a comeback.

The APV (autonomous vehicle) was parked just outside, waiting for us. Caine opened the door for me with an exaggerated gesture. “Ladies first…” he said, his grin widening.

I climbed in, rolling my eyes as he shut the door behind me. He leaned in through the open window to input the destination into the dashboard. Before I could ask what he was doing, he stepped back and added, “Let’s see who gets there first.” And just like that, he sprinted off, weaving effortlessly through the crowded streets of Solai.

The APV started moving, its electric hum barely audible as it glided through the streets. I glanced at the dashboard: 13 minutes to the destination.

When the car pulled up at the meeting point, I stepped out and immediately spotted Caine. He was sitting inside the dry cleaners, tapping his foot on the floor, looking completely unbothered. There wasn’t a single bead of sweat on his face, no sign of the effort it must have taken to run three miles.

Meanwhile, I had just travelled the same distance in a car, and here he was—rested, smug, and waiting.

He glanced up as I entered, his smirk widening. “Took you long enough,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery.

I resisted the urge to snap back, reminding myself to focus on the mission. The dry cleaners, with its flickering neon sign and faint smell of cleaning chemicals, didn’t seem like much of a battleground. But this was the first step, and I couldn’t afford to let Caine’s antics throw me off.

“Ready to keep up?” he asked, standing and stretching casually, as though the real mission hadn’t even started yet.


For once, I thought about firing back with a smart-assed comment of my own, but before I could get a word out, Caine turned and leapt off the balcony without a second’s hesitation. His movements were fluid, almost casual, as he disappeared into the shadows below.

“See you in the lobby!” his voice echoed faintly, barely audible over the sound of the city below.

I stood there for a moment, staring after him, trying to process what I’d just seen. Locke, still leaning against the main elevator at the back of the room, let out a long, exasperated sigh.

“You’ve got one hour,” he said, his voice steady but firm, the weight of expectation clear. “Don’t fuck this up.”


I entered the elevator and descended to the lobby, the hum of the machinery providing a moment of calm before the next step of the mission. As the doors slid open, sure enough, there was Caine, waiting for me with his trademark smirk plastered across his face.

“You gonna be able to keep up, man?” he teased, his tone dripping with playful arrogance.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his remark. It was becoming increasingly clear that Caine got a kick out of reminding me that I wasn’t some hyper-athletic acrobat with a bionic arm capable of superhuman feats.

The APV (autonomous vehicle) sat idling just outside, its sleek frame glowing faintly under the neon lights of Solai’s streets. Caine walked over, opened the door with a mockingly exaggerated gesture, and grinned. “Ladies first…”

I climbed in without comment, settling into the smooth leather seat as he leaned into the open window to input the location into the dashboard. His smirk widened as he stepped back, shutting the door. “Let’s see who gets there first,” he said before turning and sprinting off into the night, weaving effortlessly through the crowded streets like he’d been born to navigate them.

The APV began moving, its electric hum barely audible as it glided through the city. According to the dashboard, it would take 13 minutes to reach our first location. I leaned back, watching the city blur past, my mind racing with thoughts about the mission ahead.

I arrived at the meeting point: a dingy dry cleaner on the outskirts of the Dark District. Inside, I found Caine sitting casually, tapping his foot on the floor, looking like he’d just finished a nap rather than sprinted three miles. Not a single sign of breathlessness or exertion marred his smug expression.

I stepped inside, shaking my head in disbelief. “Jesus, dude, quicken it up next time, eh?” he said, his tone oozing with sarcasm.

I laughed it off, even though part of me wanted to punch that grin off his face. The kid had literally beaten me here—on foot.

Caine tapped his earpiece. “We’ve arrived at Location 1.”

Data’s voice crackled through the comms. “Location 1, we see you.”

For a brief moment, I felt pretty badass. Sure, I hadn’t done much yet, but the covert nature of the operation, the gear, and the tension in the air made it all feel real.

Caine’s demeanor shifted suddenly, the smirk fading as he became laser-focused. “We’ve got about 40 minutes until the Red Dogs show up,” he said, gesturing toward the east gate visible in the distance. “Get in position and wait for my instructions.”

Before I could respond, he vanished into the shadows, moving with the kind of fluidity that made it clear he’d done this countless times before.

“Pylot, status report?” Data’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

I relayed Caine’s instructions and was quickly directed to the emergency stairwell of a nearby apartment complex. “Head to the rooftop,” Data said. “Scout the area. Once the time is right, Caine will take care of the rest. Your job is to monitor any unusual foot traffic leading up to and during the transaction.”

The stairwell was dimly lit, its walls covered in layers of graffiti, each tag and mural telling a story of rebellion, decay, and survival. The smell of damp concrete and faint cleaning chemicals lingered in the air as I climbed. Twenty-five floors later, I emerged onto the rooftop, slightly out of breath but determined to stay focused.

The view from the top was both awe-inspiring and oppressive. The Dark District loomed 500 yards in front of me, its towering metal and concrete wall stretching far into the horizon. Easily twice the height of the building I stood on, it cast an imposing shadow over the densely packed structures inside. The east gate—our target—stood out as one of the few access points, a massive, reinforced entryway surrounded by flickering floodlights.

Below me, a perimeter road ran the length of the wall, connecting to various alleyways that snaked their way back into the city behind me. The activity within the Dark District was a stark contrast to the quiet streets outside its walls—a chaotic hive of movement, neon lights, and shadowy figures.

“Look to your left,” Caine’s voice crackled through the earpiece.

I shifted my gaze and spotted a narrow alley directly below. Five men were approaching from one end, their movements deliberate. One of them carried a hard case, while the others followed closely behind, scanning the area as they walked. The dim streetlights barely illuminated their faces, but their intent was clear.

As I panned the area, searching for Caine, his voice came through again. “To your right, across the alley.”

I adjusted my focus and spotted his silhouette perched on a window ledge, about four floors higher than me. He was almost invisible against the darkness, his position giving him a clear vantage point of the alley below.

“The Red Dogs are here,” Caine said, his voice low and steady. “When the buyer shows up, keep an eye on both entrances to the alley. Don’t let anything slip past you.”

The weight of his words settled in as I adjusted my position, scanning the scene below and preparing for whatever came next.


I looked down into the alley, watching as the Red Dogs gathered in its dimly lit center. They looked like every stereotype of street thugs rolled into one: bandanas covering their faces, baseball bats in hand, and a cocky swagger that seemed to amplify as they moved in unison. They slowed their pace when a figure appeared in the distance, walking toward them.

I glanced up to see what Caine was doing, but his perch was empty. His voice crackled in my earpiece, calm and composed. “It’s showtime,” he said.

The buyer, a bald man in a gray suit, stepped confidently toward the gang. His clean-cut appearance and calm demeanor made him look entirely out of place, like he’d wandered into the wrong movie set. One of the Red Dogs, clearly agitated, broke the silence. “Is it done or what?”

The buyer didn’t flinch. “Yes,” he replied, his tone as unbothered as his posture. “Hand it over.”


Both parties began closing the distance between them, the gang member carrying the hard case leading the way while the others formed a loose line behind him. Just as they were about to meet, Caine’s voice rang out from the shadows: “Same shit, different day!”

The gang froze, startled. They took a few steps back instinctively, forming a tighter line in front of the man with the case. One of them yelled out, his voice shaky with a mix of fear and anger, “Who the fuck is that? Who’s there?!”

The buyer, however, remained completely still, as though the interruption didn’t concern him.


From a narrow walkway connected to the alley, Caine emerged. Dressed in all black, he walked with the confidence of someone who had done this a hundred times. His bionic arm pulsed with a faint purple glow, casting an eerie light around him as he approached.

The gang grew visibly unsettled, one of them shouting toward the buyer, “A Biomech? Is he with you?!”

The buyer didn’t respond.

“Don’t fucking play with us!” one of the gang snarled, his voice cracking as he reached for a pistol tucked into his waistband. He aimed it at Caine, his hands trembling slightly.

“Keep an eye on that case,” Caine muttered under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear through the earpiece.

The gang member fired a warning shot into the air. “One more step and I’ll fuck you up!” he shouted, his voice rising in pitch.

Caine stopped abruptly, smirking as he slowly raised his head. With deliberate movements, he reached up and pulled his hood down, revealing that smug, arrogant grin of his.


Then, something strange happened. The buyer, who had stood frozen until now, began walking toward the gang with an unnervingly calm stride. The gang member with the gun turned, shoving past his crew to block the buyer’s approach.

Without warning, the buyer broke into a sprint, heading straight for the man holding the hard case.

The gunman fired a shot directly at him, but the buyer’s reaction was inhuman. He raised his hand with impossible speed, deflecting the bullet into the wall beside him.

“Fuck me, it’s an android!” Caine shouted as he sprang into action, rushing toward the chaos.

Data’s voice buzzed in my ear. “Whatever happens, Pylot, do not attempt to interfere.”

The android lunged for the case just as Caine reached him. Using his bionic arm, Caine slammed the ground beside the case with a force that shattered layers of concrete, sending the case airborne. With his other arm, he deflected the case backward, toward the gang.


The Red Dogs hesitated, stunned by the display. The brief pause was all the android needed. It flung Caine aside with terrifying strength, sending him skidding across the alley, and sprinted toward the case.

Caine recovered quickly, his bionic arm morphing into a shield as he charged after the android, deflecting bullets as the gang fired wildly in desperation. The android, undeterred, picked up speed, snatching the case effortlessly before barreling through the gang.

Several of the Red Dogs stumbled and fell, their bandanas slipping off as they hit the ground.

Then, something changed. Caine, mid-pursuit, stopped dead in his tracks. His focus shifted entirely from the android, who was now disappearing into the distance, and landed on one of the gang members.

Breathing heavily, Caine’s voice was low but filled with rage. “You… I know you,” he said, pointing directly at the man.

I left my rooftop perch, running down a couple of floors to get a closer look. Turning on my audio recorder, I watched as Caine approached the gang member with deliberate steps.

“I recognized your voice,” Caine growled.

The gang member froze, his confusion quickly giving way to fear. “Look, man, you were in the—”

Caine didn’t let him finish. He grabbed the man by the back of the neck and slammed his face into the wall. The sickening crack of bone meeting concrete echoed through the alley. Blood began to trickle down the wall, pooling at the gang member’s feet.

Caine spun him around, pinning him to the wall with one hand while ripping a metal grill from a nearby subway vent with his bionic arm. The gang member’s eyes widened in terror as Caine leaned in closer, his grip tightening.


Caine showed no signs of hesitation or mercy as he pressed the subway vent against the man’s face, crushing it between the jagged metal and the wall. The man’s screams echoed through the alley, raw and piercing, as blood began to seep from the fresh cuts the grill left on his skin. “I have information,” he pleaded, his voice breaking. “I can g...give you names!”

“You killed people,” Caine spat, his voice filled with venom. “Good, innocent people.”


The gang member, barely conscious, muffled a desperate response from beneath the crushing weight of the vent. “I follow orders… that’s it!”

“Not good enough,” Caine growled. His bionic arm applied even more pressure, the grinding sound of metal on bone making my stomach churn. The man’s jaw began to crack audibly under the weight. Frantically, the gang member screamed, “Stop! I have information! I can give you names!”

Caine leaned in, his voice razor-sharp. “Who do you work for?!”

The man yelled in agony, the metal cutting deeper into his flesh. I could see his body trembling violently as he struggled against the inevitable. I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t sign up for this kind of brutality, and surely, no crime justified this level of torture. My hand trembled as I tapped my earpiece three times, sending an alert to Data.

Data’s voice came through almost immediately. “Locke’s on his way. Hold your position.”


Despite the incoming backup, Caine didn’t let up. He continued until the man’s resolve finally broke. “You want Rico!” the gang member screamed through a pained gasp.

Caine froze, his grip easing just enough for the man to catch a breath. “Rico?” Caine asked, his tone shifting slightly, curiosity laced with anger. He pulled the vent away, letting the man collapse against the wall. The gang member wiped at the blood pouring from his face, smearing it across his skin, briefly revealing deep, jagged wounds.

My heart raced. Rico. That name wasn’t just familiar—it was personal. It had to be the same person responsible for destroying my life, right? I leaned forward, desperate to hear more. The gang member, his voice hoarse and wild, shouted, “Why the fuck do you care so much?! Let me go! I gave you a name!”

Caine moved closer, towering over him. The man instinctively pressed himself back against the wall, his panic evident.


“A name won’t bring him back,” Caine snarled, his words cutting like a blade. “You never gave him a chance. You don’t deserve a fucking chance!”

Before anyone could react, Caine raised the subway vent again. In one brutal motion, he slammed it against the man’s head, crushing it entirely between the grill and the wall. The sound was sickening—a mix of wet crunches and metallic clangs. The gang member’s body slumped to the ground, his head obliterated. Blood and viscera seeped through the gaps in the grill, dripping onto Caine’s arm and pooling at his feet.


I stood frozen, completely stunned by what I had just witnessed. My mind raced, trying to process the sheer horror of it all.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Locke standing at the east entrance of the alley. His figure was backlit by the dim streetlights as he surveyed the scene with a stoic expression. Data’s voice broke the silence in my earpiece. “Status report?!”

Caine, breathing heavily, turned toward Locke. His blind rage seemed to subside slightly as their eyes met. Locke nodded subtly, as if signaling for Caine to keep quiet.

Locke stepped forward and replied to Data. “The mission was unsuccessful,” he said evenly.

“Any casualties?” Data asked, his tone sharp.

Caine shook his head slowly, his expression hard to read. Locke, understanding the unspoken request, lied. “No casualties.”

Data paused, the silence over the comms stretching for a moment. Finally, he said, “Okay. Head back. We’ll need to discuss this with Enigma.”

Caine and Locke removed their earpieces as they approached each other. I exited the building, my legs feeling heavy as I made my way into the alley to meet them.

“Rico,” I said, my voice steady but filled with tension. “You’ve heard that name before?”


Caine turned to me, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No,” he said, his tone almost teasing, “but you have… right?” I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I knew I’d just uncovered a connection between Rico and the Red Dogs, but the weight of everything that had just happened left me unable to process it fully. For now, knowing there was a lead was enough.

An APV pulled up next to the alley, its sleek frame glowing faintly under the streetlights. Locke motioned toward the vehicle. “Law enforcement’s on their way. We need to move.”


We climbed into the car, setting the destination for Shadowtask HQ. As the APV began moving, the silence in the cabin was suffocating. Locke, unable to contain himself any longer, turned to Caine. “What the fuck was that about back there?”

Caine didn’t look at him. His gaze remained fixed on the city lights outside the window. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice soft but resolute. “Closure.”




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