I’m not anyone’s toy.

Standing in the corridor, I took a moment to gather my thoughts, my breath coming in shallow bursts. The encounter with Kristina, the tangled web of events surrounding Tom, it was all too much. After unblocking Kristina's ID on my comlink, I immediately received two images. They showed two men, clad in gang attire, who had escorted Tom away. Their clothes bore the unmistakable marks of a some local gang.

With a growing sense of dread, I messaged Tom, seeking any sign of his whereabouts, but my comlink remained silent. I quickly composed a detailed message to Uncle Chen, outlining everything – the tampered footage, Kristina's revelations, the involvement of gang members, and my unsettling meeting with Detective Alden Pierce.

Uncle Chen's call came promptly, his voice carrying an edge of concern tinged with an underlying hardness. "Marlene, you need to fill me in on everything."

"Uncle Chen, it's a mess," I admitted, my voice strained. "I met with Kristina – you remember Toby? We found footage of Tom being taken by these gang members. And there's more. Detective Alden Pierce approached me, asking about Tom. He gave off a really bad vibe."

There was a pause, a heavy silence on the line. "I know of Pierce." Uncle Chen finally said. "Meet me at the Jiggling Wing in China Town. We need to discuss this face-to-face. Be careful and don't draw attention."

"Understood, I'll be there soon," I replied, the gravity of the situation setting in. 

On this floor the people here were strangers, their stares ranging from indifferent to hostile. Some glanced at me with suspicion, others openly hostile with sneers or rude gestures. The 44th floor felt like a different world compared to this.

Crystal City's megablocks, towering structures housing tens of thousands, each had its unique ecosystem. In these vertical cities, every floor had its unspoken rules, and the police presence was more intense here than in many street-level districts.

I sent a quick message to Kristina, asking about the gang the men belonged to. Her reply came swiftly: "Lone Star Gang." I recognized the name. I had encountered members with their distinct emblem before, during a troubling incident at FreshMart.

Heading to the elevator, lost in thought, I didn't immediately notice the group of men entering alongside me. It wasn't until the elevator began its descent and I felt an unwelcome touch on my butt that snapped me to attention. 

The elevator's narrow space suddenly felt suffocating as I became acutely aware of the three corporate-dressed men crowding in with me. Their presence was invasive, their stares unsettlingly predatory. As the elevator began its descent, a sudden, unsolicited touch sent a jolt of alarm through me. My skin crawled at the contact.

Whirling around, I faced the leering men, their grins wide with crude intentions. "Like what you see, huh?" one sneered, the words slathered in unwelcome insinuation. Another chimed in, his voice dripping with lechery, "Seems she's into it."

My heart pounded against my ribs, each beat echoing my rising fury and fear. Their proximity was oppressive, their laughter a cacophonous reverberation in the confined metal box. The leader's hand reached out, moving towards me with a disgusting sense of entitlement.

In a flash of anger, I reached into my jacket, my fingers wrapping around the familiar shape of the paralyzation glove. Their laughter, thick with false bravado, filled the elevator, echoing off the walls in a taunting chorus.

Activating the glove, I struck with a precision born of fear and anger. The leader's face twisted, contorting not in the pleasure he anticipated but in the agony of the electric shock coursing through him. His body convulsed, seized by the paralyzer's unyielding grip.

"You think I'm some toy for you to play with?" I spat out, my voice a razor-sharp blade of fury. His cohorts, their smirks wiped clean by shock and fear, staggered back. But there was no escape in the confined space.

With swift, decisive movements, I delivered incapacitating shocks to them as well, their bodies crumpling to the floor in twitching heaps. Their once intimidating figures now reduced to spasming messes at my feet.

As the elevator dinged, reaching its destination, I stepped over their twitching forms, my chest heaving with ragged breaths. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, a bitter taste in my mouth. "I'm not anyone's toy,"

Stepping out of the elevator, I hurried through the corridor, my heart still racing from the encounter. The building's residents glanced at me as I passed, their expressions a mix of curiosity and indifference. The men I had paralyzed struggled at the top of the stairs, but I didn't look back, disappearing into the bustling street crowd.

Outside, the streets of Crystal City were alive with the usual daytime chaos. Shops and stalls lined the sidewalks, displaying an array of goods from high-tech gadgets to street food. Holographic adverts floated in the sky, flickering with vibrant colors and promises of a better life. The air was thick with the smells of sizzling street food, exhaust fumes, and the occasional whiff of perfume from passersby. The cacophony of city noises – honking cars, chattering crowds, and the distant hum of drones – filled the air.

My AuraSync Biofeedback Regulator (ASBR) strained under the pressure, unable to lower my stress levels due to its depleted state. "Damn it," I muttered under my breath, pushing my way through the crowd.

As I tried to collect my thoughts, another message from TriColor Corp appeared on my comlink. It was Ethan again, this time with a warning tone, pressing me to agree to their contract or lose the opportunity. The message only added to the mounting pressure, but before I could even think of responding, one of the men from the elevator appeared in front of me, blocking my path.

I halted abruptly, and the other two men quickly flanked me, boxing me in. Their faces were twisted with anger and humiliation, a stark contrast to their earlier arrogance. The lead man, still showing signs of the paralyzer's effect, sneered at me. "You're going to pay for that little slut!" he hissed.

The moment hung in the air, charged with imminent violence as the men closed in on me. Amidst this sensory overload, the sharp blare of a car horn sliced through the tension like a knife.

Instinctively, I seized the opportunity. The car's side door swung open, revealing the dark interior of a sleek, high-end vehicle. As I lunged towards the safety of the back seat, my movements were fluid, fueled by adrenaline.

One of the men made a grab for me, his fingers clawing at the air. With a rapid twist of my body, I used his momentum against him, flipping him over my shoulder. The electric discharge from the paralyzation glove crackled, enveloping him in a dance of blue sparks. His body convulsed on the ground, muscles locked in an uncontrollable spasm.

Another assailant, fueled by rage, grabbed my hair and yanked back viciously. A sharp pain shot through my scalp, and I cried out, my voice lost in the city's din. That's when he appeared.

The bulky man who emerged from the driver's seat was an imposing figure, a behemoth cloaked in dark clothing that did little to hide his augmented physique. His right arm, a cybernetic prosthetic, gleamed with a sheen under the streetlights. 

The assailants' bravado faltered in the face of this new threat. Their grip on me loosened as the bulky man motioned silently but firmly for me to enter the car. His presence alone commanded respect, or perhaps fear.

Inside the car, the scent of rich leather and a faint trace of cologne filled my senses. The interior was lavishly appointed. My eyes were immediately drawn to the other passenger – an old man.

He sat regally, his posture straight despite his advanced age. His hands rested gently on an ornate staff, its details finely crafted, speaking of a wealth. His eyes, magnified by the green-tinted glasses, focused on me with an intensity that belied his years.

"Hello, Ms. de Burge," he said.

The car pulled away smoothly, leaving the sounds of the street behind. The old man's gaze never wavered, studying me as if he could see through to my very soul.