Ch 80: The Bigger Picture

Mira stood before the worn-out map pinned to her safehouse wall, its edges curling from age and exposure to the elements. The Blanks, Gron, Consortium-controlled territories—these were places she knew well. Yet, as she traced her fingers across the rough surface, her gut told her something undeniable.

She had been thinking too small.

Her usual contacts had given her scraps of information, but nothing close to the full picture. The people pulling the strings weren't in the Blanks, nor were they sitting comfortably in Gron. The real game was being played beyond—outside the borders of what she had known.

And if she wanted answers, she'd have to follow the trail.

🔹 Organizing the Power Structures

Mira never liked politics.

It was messy, filled with people who thought power was measured in the number of pawns they could manipulate. But now, politics was the only thing standing between her and the truth.

She grabbed a marker and started writing on the wall, categorizing the factions she had encountered so far:

1. The Consortium

The largest technological and economic powerhouse. Works in secrecy, moving pieces behind the scenes. Their influence extended far beyond what the public saw.

She had already crossed paths with them—more than once. They were the ones funding black-budget projects, hiding entire underground labs, and making people like her disposable assets.

2. The Bank

Supposedly neutral. But too well-informed, too involved to be just financial middlemen. They had access to restricted intelligence, something even the merc syndicates struggled to obtain.

The Bank never took sides—but that didn't mean they weren't moving pieces across the board.

3. Mercenary Syndicates

Some fought for money. Others had agendas. Some were directly working for the Consortium. Others seemed to be part of something bigger—she just didn't know what yet.

She had worked alongside mercs who took jobs without questioning them. But a few had dropped hints, subtle comments about factions that didn't fit the usual mold.

4. Underground Organizations

Not just criminals—some were revolutionaries, others… something else entirely. Some were trying to break free from the system. Others wanted to burn it down.

Mira exhaled slowly.

Each of these groups had their own motivations. But the question remained—who was truly in control?

And more importantly, who had been using her without her even realizing it?

🔹 A Final Test

Mira didn't rush decisions.

Before leaving Gron behind, she needed to be sure—sure that she wasn't just running after ghosts, sure that what she suspected had weight.

A new contract had come her way. A simple smuggling job.

On paper, it was nothing special. Move a package out of Gron, deliver it to a contact just outside the city limits.

But Mira wasn't interested in the job itself. She was interested in who had requested it.

🔹 The Job Begins

The meeting took place in a warehouse at the edge of the industrial district. Mira arrived early, leaning against a rusted shipping container, her eyes sweeping the darkened surroundings.

The client showed up exactly on time. A woman, dressed in a sleek, dark coat, her face obscured by the shadow of her hood. She moved with the confidence of someone used to being in control.

Mira pushed off the container, tilting her head slightly. "You don't look like a smuggler."

The woman smiled faintly. "And you don't look like someone who asks unnecessary questions."

Mira smirked. "Fair enough."

She glanced at the crate beside them. No markings. No visible insignias. "So what's inside?"

The woman's smile didn't waver. "That's not your concern."

Mira studied her, then the crate. "You're paying well."

"As we always do."

That was the part that stood out.

This wasn't some back-alley smuggling job run by desperate criminals. This had structure. Planning.

And then she saw it—just a glimpse, as the woman shifted slightly. A small emblem sewn into the lining of her coat.

Not Consortium. Not the Bank.

Something else.

Mira kept her expression neutral, nodding. "Fine. I'll get it done."

But she already knew—this wasn't just a test of skill. This was a test of loyalty.

And she had no intention of playing by their rules.

🔹 The Delivery

The route out of Gron was well-planned. A series of checkpoints, each one manned by people Mira either knew or had bribed in advance.

But something about the job gnawed at her.

Halfway to the destination, she made a decision.

She took a detour.

Pulling into an abandoned loading dock, she pried open the crate, her fingers steady despite the tension in her gut.

Inside, secured with reinforced locks, was a small containment unit. Transparent casing. Inside, something glowed faintly—an unearthly blue, pulsing gently as if alive.

It wasn't a weapon.

It wasn't drugs.

It was tech.

Something valuable. Something important.

And something she wasn't supposed to see.

Mira let out a slow breath.

Whoever had hired her wasn't just moving goods. They were moving pieces.

And this? This was just one piece of a much larger game.

She sealed the crate, making sure everything was as it was before. Then she finished the job.

But she had her answer.

Gron was just a small stage.

The real game was happening elsewhere.

And Mira was ready to play.