Chapter 5: Runa’s Cipher

The burner phone buzzed once.

Astra grabbed it before the sound could echo. She glanced at the screen.

Encrypted Message Received

Origin: Protocol Null Node 3

Sender: Runa

A single sentence lit up the screen:

You remember. Meet me at the Glass Staircase. Midnight. Come alone.

Astra's pulse quickened.

Runa. Codebreaker. Smuggler. Strategist. The only person in Null Protocol who understood the language inside Astra's skin better than Astra herself.

And the Glass Staircase? That wasn't just a place. It was a message.

Marlow sat at the desk, half-dozing over a pile of schematics when Astra approached.

"Got a ping," she said.

He blinked. "From who?"

"Runa."

His expression darkened. "She's still alive?"

"Alive and broadcasting on old Protocol frequencies."

Marlow straightened up. "She's careful. If she reached out, she knows something."

Astra nodded. "I'm meeting her tonight. Alone."

"You sure that's a good idea?"

"No," she said. "But necessary."

At midnight, Astra stepped into the old ArtBridge metro station.

The Glass Staircase wasn't actually made of glass—it was a rusted fire escape in the ruins of a burned-out music venue covered in shattered mirror tiles and graffiti. Locals called it the Glass Staircase because when moonlight hit it just right, the reflection made it look like it was floating.

Tonight, the moon was full. The staircase shimmered like a lie made of light.

A figure stood at the top.

Runa.

Astra ascended silently.

Runa looked almost unchanged—tall, wrapped in a patchwork cloak of wires, codes sewn into her sleeves. Her eyes glowed faintly, artificial irises scanning Astra the moment they locked eyes.

"Welcome back to the world of the broken," Runa said softly.

"Glad to be here," Astra replied. "You look good. Untraceable, slightly feral. It suits you."

"I could say the same. I see the tattoos are finally speaking."

Astra raised her forearm. One of the glyphs shimmered in the moonlight—three concentric circles spiraling outward like sonar.

"They're loud," Astra said. "Like old ghosts learning how to scream again."

Runa stepped forward and pressed her palm lightly to Astra's arm.

For a second, her cybernetic eyes flared. Data streamed in silence.

"Seventeen glyphs activated. Seven partially unstable. One still dormant."

"Which one?"

Runa stepped back. "The one on your spine. The black chain."

Astra frowned. "That one hasn't moved."

"It's not meant to. Not yet. It's a failsafe."

"Failsafe for what?"

Runa didn't answer.

They sat on the rooftop of a nearby building, looking down at the sleeping city.

Runa spoke quietly.

"There's been movement inside Glassmind. Not just tracking you—they're activating the others."

Astra turned sharply. "What others?"

"Subjects. Ghosts like you. Failed prototypes. Echoes that didn't stabilize. Vos is reactivating them."

Astra felt a chill creep down her back.

"How many?"

"Five confirmed. Three already out. Two have gone offline—which means they've either been neutralized… or they've gone rogue."

Astra stared at the horizon.

"They'll use them to hunt me."

"Maybe," Runa said. "Or maybe they'll use them to make you question what you are. Memory is messy, Astra. They've had years to twist your truth into someone else's weapon."

Astra clenched her fists. "Then I need to find them first."

Runa nodded. "I figured you'd say that."

She reached into her sleeve and pulled out a small device—no bigger than a coin. A single blue eye blinked in its center.

"This holds a cipher key," she said. "Yours. From before the wipe. If you feed it into a clean neural reader, it might unlock a pathway. Coordinates. Data trails. Maybe even…" She hesitated. "A voice from the person you were trying to protect."

Astra's breath caught. "Who?"

Runa looked her in the eyes. "Your brother."

The world tilted.

"I don't have a—"

"Yes," Runa interrupted gently. "You do. Or… did."

Astra staggered back. Fragments of memory crackled at the edges of her mind. A child's laugh. Running down a hallway. A small hand gripping hers tightly.

"His name was Cael," Runa said softly. "You sent him away when Vos began targeting families connected to Null Protocol operatives. You erased your own memories to protect where you hid him."

Astra's knees buckled.

"I— I remember a little boy… the beach… a lighthouse…"

"Then he's still in there," Runa whispered. "You locked the memory behind your glyphs. That's why Vos kept you alive—she knew the information was inside you. She just hadn't figured out how to open the lock yet."

Astra clutched the device tightly.

"I need to find him."

"And I'll help," Runa said. "But Astra, listen—Vos is growing desperate. She's activating Subject K-09."

Astra's eyes went cold. "Killgrave."

Runa nodded once. "If Vos releases him, he'll find you. He doesn't need glyphs. He becomes them. And he'll tear the city apart doing it."

Astra stood, hoodie flapping in the wind.

"Then I'll need more than memories."

"You'll need control," Runa agreed. "Over your mind. Your glyphs. Yourself."

Astra turned to go.

Runa called after her. "Where are you headed?"

Astra looked over her shoulder. "To wake the part of me I've been afraid to touch."

Back at the safehouse, Marlow was scanning citywide traffic intercepts.

He looked up when Astra returned. "You good?"

"No," she said. "But I'm getting there."

She placed the cipher key on the table. "There's more."

"More what?"

"Family. Survivors. Killgrave." She paused. "And a lock I buried in myself so deep, even Vos couldn't find it."

Marlow stood slowly. "What do you need?"

Astra pulled her hoodie off and turned her back to him, revealing the tattoo down her spine—a long, black chain made of unbroken links, each engraved with microscopic glyphs.

"I need to break the chain."