/024_The_Blue_Crow

Two weeks. That’s how long it’s been since I learned the truth—or at least enough of it to unravel everything I thought I knew. Two weeks of avoiding Clova’s tests, ignoring Data’s unfinished scanner, and walking past Caine and Locke with nothing but silence between us. I’ve spent most of that time wandering the streets of Solai, chasing fragments of memories that aren’t even mine.

But no matter how far I walk, I can’t escape the name that haunts me.

Hagan Price.

Alice’s son said it with venom in his voice, tied to a story that felt too heavy for someone so young to carry. And now, that name weighs on me too. If Hagan Price knew Leon Clarke, then he knows something about me. Something I need to hear.

The moment came late one night as I sat in the dim glow of Gelert’s dashboard, parked on the edge of the city. The streets were quiet, only the faint hum of the bike’s engine breaking the silence. That’s when my helmet’s visor flickered.

“Hello, PYLOT.”

The voice was calm, measured, and unmistakably unfamiliar. My body tensed. “Who is this?” I demanded.

“Enigma.”

I froze. Enigma was a name I’d heard whispered in Shadowtask’s halls, always with reverence, but I’d never spoken to her directly. And now, here she was, in my head, her voice laced with authority and an unsettling calm.

“You’ve got the wrong person,” I said coldly.

“I don’t think so,” she replied. “You’ve avoided Clova’s tests. You’ve ignored Data’s work. I understand your reluctance, but if you want to restore your memories and uncover the truth, you need to cooperate. Their findings could give us the data we need to help you—and more importantly, to stop Arketeq.”

“Stop Arketeq?” I repeated, my voice sharp. “Is that what this is about? Using me to bring them down?”

“It’s about answers,” she said simply. “Your answers. Our answers. Arketeq is a parasite on this city, and you’re uniquely equipped to destroy them. But that begins with the tests. We can’t move forward until you let Clova and Data finish their work.”

I was silent for a moment, the weight of her words pressing down on me. Then I said, “I’m not doing another test until I have answers of my own.”

“And what answers are those?” Enigma asked, her tone still calm but tinged with curiosity.

“I need to see a man called Hagan Price,” I said.

The silence stretched, her measured tone faltering. “Hagan Price,” she repeated softly, as if weighing the name in her mind. “The CEO of Arketeq. Why him?”

“He’s tied to Leon Clarke,” I said firmly. “Alice’s son told me. If anyone knows what happened to Leon, it’s him.”

Another pause. Then she spoke again, her voice more deliberate. “Finding Hagan Price won’t be easy. He doesn’t leave trails, and his presence is carefully guarded. But…” She paused, then relented. “…there’s a bar downtown. The Blue Crow. Sources say he frequents it some nights, the bar also seems to have a habit of closing early some nights too, perhaps to accommodate him. The Blue Crow, that's probably your best lead.”

I didn’t wait for her to say more, I pushed the button on the side of my helmet to end the call. With this new information I revved Gelert’s engine and took off into the city.

The Blue Crow wasn’t hard to find once I had the name. Cheap, run-down, the kind of place that faded into the urban decay of Solai’s outskirts. The streets leading to it were dimly lit, the wet pavement reflecting the glow of flickering streetlights. As I rode, Enigma’s words echoed in my mind.

“You’re uniquely equipped to destroy them.”

Was that all I was to her? A weapon? A tool?

I shook the thought away as I neared the bar. Two men stood outside, their broad shoulders and rigid postures making it clear they weren’t there to drink.

I parked Gelert at the edge of the alley and approached slowly, my helmet still on. As I neared, one of the guards stepped forward, raising a hand to stop me.

“Private event,” he said curtly.

“I’m here to see Hagan Price,” I replied, keeping my voice steady.

The guard’s expression didn’t change. “Don’t know who that is. Turn around and leave.”

I didn’t move.

The second guard stepped closer, one hand resting on the radio clipped to his shoulder. “You’re not welcome here. Last warning.”

When I still didn’t back down, the first guard drew his gun, pointing it at my chest. “Take one more step, and it’ll be your last. Move on.”

I raised my hands slowly, my movements deliberate. “I’m not here to fight,” I said.

Ignoring his barked warnings, I reached into my jacket pocket. The guard’s grip on his weapon tightened. “Don’t! I’ll shoot!” he shouted.

Before he could act, I pulled out the note—the fabricated invitation, scrawled in my own hand but designed to look authentic. “It’s from Hagan Price,” I said, holding it up. “Addressed to Leon Clarke. Says to meet here. Ring any bells?”

The guards exchanged a look, their resolve faltering. The second one pressed his finger to his earpiece, murmuring something hurriedly. After a tense moment, he nodded. “Let him in,” he said reluctantly.

The inside of the bar was dim and smoky, the scent of stale beer clinging to the air. At the far end, sitting at the bar itself, was Hagan Price.

He wore a tailored three-piece suit, his posture rigid as he sipped a glass of dark liquor. Four more guards flanked him, their eyes narrowing as I approached.

Price didn’t look up at first. “That bike,” he said, his voice sharp and measured. “It’s not yours. Where did you get it?”

“I woke up in a motel. No memory. No answers,” I replied.

Finally, he turned to face me, his expression hard and bitter. “Your bike. Where did you get it?” he demanded, louder this time.

“It belongs to Leon, doesn’t it?” I asked.

The room went silent. Price’s jaw clenched, his knuckles whitening around his glass. “Who told you that name? Who told you that god damn name?!”

His fist slammed into the bar, toppling his drink. His guards raised their weapons, each one focussed on me.

I stood firm. “I’ve had flashbacks,” I said. “Memories of the night Leon was killed. It’s like I was there, like I was him. I followed an address given by my helmet to his house. That’s where I met Alice and her son. They want closure, just like I do. Why was Leon Clarke killed? Why am I reliving his memories?”

Hagan stared at me, his fury melting into something else—confusion, disbelief. “Alice...is she...How the fuck did this happen?” he muttered under his breath.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He shook his head, his voice quieter now. “You’ve inherited Leon’s memories? Reliving them like they’re your own? A living ghost?!” He gestured at me, his tone bitter. “You parade around on his bike, wearing his clothes. Like some kind of twisted tribute.”

He exhaled heavily, his shoulders sagging. “Leon was a good man. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

“How did you know him?” I asked cautiously.

He stared at me for a long moment before shaking his head. “Leon was a good man.” he muttered. "Was?" I asked softly. He looked away, taking a slow sip from his drink as if the memory of Leon was too much to bear. He continued, somewhat hesitantly "Yes, I knew him well" he muttered, nodding his head faintly before taking another sip of his drink. He became lost in thought, his shoulders sagging under the weight of something I couldn’t see. Eyes glazing over like he'd seen a ghost. Then, with a deep breath, he straightened, the hardness returning to his eyes.

I could tell he didn't want to entertain my questions any longer. But I couldn't leave without mentioning one more name...

"A man named Rico, associated to the Red Dogs, does that name mean anything to you?" At that, Hagan froze. His expression changed instantly—his earlier confusion replaced by shock and, almost immediately, dismissal. His jaw tightened, and he leaned forward.

“Who is he?” I pressed, taking a step closer. “What does he have to do with all of this?”

“This conversation is over,” he said coldly, gesturing to his guards. Hagan’s eyes darkened, his tone sharp enough to cut through the tension. “Get him out of here.”

The guards stepped forward, their hands gripping my arms as they began escorting me toward the door. Hagan didn’t look at me again. He stared into his glass, his shoulders tense, as though the weight of the question lingered with him even as I was pushed out of the room.

The truth was closer now. I knew more than I did yesterday. Leon Clarke, co-founder of Arketeq, wasn’t just a name whispered in someone else’s memory. He was real. His connection to Hagan Price was real. But knowing that only raised more questions.

Rico?

Why was Leon killed?

Who was Leon to Hagan?

Why am I the one left with Leon's memories?

The streets were eerily quiet as I trudged through the city. The faint buzz of neon lights overhead and the occasional hum of passing vehicles were the only sounds breaking the silence. My mind churned with questions, each one louder than the last.

Then my helmet flickered.

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

Enigma’s voice sliced through the quiet like a blade. For a moment, I didn’t respond. I kept pushing Gelert forward, the soft rolling of its tires against the road filling the void between her question and my answer.

“Pieces of it,” I said finally. “But it’s not enough.”

“Good, I'll instruct Data to initiate a debrief upon on your return” she said simply. And just like that, the connection cut. I didn't feel ready to share what I'd learn with Enigma, I wanted time to process it myself first before talking to everyone back at HQ.

The gates of Shadowtask HQ loomed ahead, their stark metal frame a welcome sight against the city’s sprawling chaos. As I pulled into the garage, Gelert’s engine gave one last, labored groan before cutting out completely.