The interrogation

The suspect’s chair creaked with a sardonic rhythm as he leaned back, a smirk plastered across his face to indicate triumph. Vega curled her fingers into fists as she approached the suspect, a vein popped on her head.

“Who are you working with?” she demanded.

The suspect chuckled," You still don’t get it, do you? We are doing ya a favor here.”

“Enlighten me,” Vega said tilting her head, “about this ‘favor’ you’re doing for us. It’s only fair”

The suspect chuckled, his sound making Vega clench her jaw. “The system you proudly protect…the ‘Network’ is a cage. An illusion…”

“Illusion?,” CIX interrupted. “The Network brought peace and… and order. It saved humanity…”

“…Saved humanity?” the suspect scoffed. “No, it enslaved it. You traded freedom fer comfort, fer… a lie. Yer just too institutionalized to see.”

Vega slammed her hand on the table, her voice rising. “Enough. Tell us how you breached the Network, or so help me—”

The suspect interrupted with a mocking grin. “Or what? Hurt me? You can’t. Those pretty little AIBI chips won’t let you even raise a fist. You’re just puppets on strings, programmed to obey.”

Vega smirked, pulling a chair and sitting across from him. “Misconceptions about the AIBI chips seem to be a common theme among your lot,” she said coolly. “Let me do you a favor, a quid pro quo if you will.”

“You see, the AIBI was designed after violent crime surged out of control,” Vega continued. “A visionary made and fitted them into the brain—specifically the prefrontal cortex, to…prevent people like you from acting on their… violent impulses. But contrary to popular belief, they don’t prevent violence. That would be ridiculous. They’re calibrated to prevent murder.”

She stood and leaned closer, a cold smile on her lips. “For everything else? Well...” In one swift motion, Vega raised her fist and delivered a sharp punch to the suspect’s face. The impact sent his head snapping back, his hood falling to reveal scars on the head. He spat blood onto the floor, his grin intact.

“Impressive,” he spat blood onto the floor, a grin still on his face. “This ain’t about me or my misconceptions. This is about the truth—the truth the Network’s buried. And when it comes out, everything will be destroyed.”

CIX, standing in the corner, stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. “The damage on his head… Vega, look.”

Vega squinted, leaning in. The scars crisscrossed on his scalp showed evidence of a surgical procedure. “You…removed it,” she said smiling at the suspect. “Wanted to join the disconnected so badly, huh?.”

“Shut up! I am part of the disconnected, you don’t know what yer talking about,” the suspect said, his smirk faltering into a frown. “Yer know nothing about me!”

Vega began pacing, a predatory gleam in her eye. “You know what I think? You wanted to be in the disconnected, but they wouldn’t let you. So, you to take out your AIBI, as proof of allegiance. Probably with someone’s help… I’m guessing the doctor, and then…you killed her.”

The suspect clapped slowly, a grin spreading back across his face.” Yer Grade As really are something. You…you almost had it, except’ my AIBI was removed 6 days ago when I was initiated into the disconnected. Oh, and the doctor…was a long-term member, who…became a problem so I had to take care of her.”

“Okay, so you killed the doctor because she…betrayed the organization. What about Wayne Musk?” Vega asked.

The suspect’s gaze shifted to CIX, studying him intently. “CIX, right?” He tilted his head, his grin widening. “He said you’d find me.”

CIX stiffened. “Who? Your leader? How do you know me?”

“Yer will find out soon enough.”

Before CIX could press further, the building’s alarms erupted. A synthetic voice filled the air:
“Security breach detected. Unauthorized entry on Level Four.”

Vega was already on her feet, pulling her plasma weapon. “CIX, stay with our charming friend. I’ll handle this.”

She darted out, her neural interface guiding her to the breach. Smoke filled the air in the lower corridors, making it hard to see, but her ocular implants adjusted, isolating heat signatures. Two figures were ascending an elevator shaft. Without hesitation, Vega fired her hovercable, attaching it to the elevator’s exterior and launching herself upward.

Mid-ascent, plasma fire erupted from inside the elevator. Vega twisted, narrowly dodging the bolts, before detaching and landing above the shaft. She crouched, scanning the chaotic scene below.

Agents were scattered, some scrambling for cover. Vega grabbed the nearest operative, her voice sharp. “You’re Grade C, right? What’s going on?”

“Sections A, B, and D,” the agent stammered, “were hit.”

Vega’s jaw tightened. “They’re trying to spread us thin, a diversion, ” she muttered. “Not on my watch.” She connected to CIX's interface. “CIX, we’ve got a coordinated attack. Prep the suspect for transfer. We need to move now.”