Equipment

The metallic corridors of the base vibrated with the constant hum of machinery. Diego and Leo's steps seemed to echo louder in the heavy silence as if the entire structure were watching. The smell was almost suffocating—a mix of burnt metal, old oil, and melted plastic. Leo wrinkled his nose but didn’t complain. This place felt as cold as he did inside.

“Rubi’s got something that might help,” Diego said, breaking the silence. Without waiting for a response, he swiped his hand over the holographic scanner beside the door.

“And what exactly is it?” Leo asked, suspicion evident in his voice.

“You’ll see, but try not to touch anything,” Diego replied, not bothering to look at him.

The lock clicked, and the door slid open, revealing a chaotic laboratory. Mechanical parts and tools covered the workbenches, lights pulsing on monitors that projected complex diagrams into the air. In the center, a girl worked with obsessive focus, adjusting a small device that emitted a faint, intermittent glow.

Rubi.

Her reddish hair fell loose over her shoulders, almost illuminated by the bluish light of the terminals. A pair of adjustable-lens goggles magnified her view, her fingers moving with precision. Despite the lab’s chaos, the space felt controlled, like an extension of her.

“Rubi,” Diego called, his tone more familiar than Leo expected.

She paused for a moment, the screwdriver still in her hand. She didn’t turn immediately, but her shoulders seemed to tense. When she finally turned, her gaze landed first on Diego, then on Leo.

“Diego,” she said dryly. “Here because you missed me or because you need something?”

“I always miss you, Rubi,” Diego replied with an ironic smile. “But today, we need a favor.”

Rubi frowned, her eyes locking onto Leo as if she were about to take him apart piece by piece. She spun the screwdriver between her fingers.

“A favor?”

“He needs some equipment,” Diego said, his tone more serious now. “Alice talked to you, didn’t she?”

At the mention of Alice’s name, Rubi’s eyes narrowed slightly. Her expression shifted, but only for an instant.

“She mentioned a few things,” Rubi murmured, returning to her workbench and setting down the screwdriver. “I’m guessing this has to do with the missed meeting.”

Leo felt his chest tighten but didn’t respond.

“Let’s start with the basics,” Diego continued, breaking the silence. “He needs a decent blade and amplification.”

Rubi let out a sigh, her movements now sharper.

“You guys love putting me to work, don’t you?” she said, walking briskly to a cabinet and unlocking it with a touch. “Alright, kid. Show me what you’ve got.”

Leo pulled out the knife he’d been carrying and handed it to her. Rubi took the object with an expression of near-comic disdain, holding it as if it were trash.

“This?” she muttered, spinning the worn blade in her hand. “It’s better for scratching up old panels than cutting anything useful.”

She tossed the knife onto the workbench and returned to the cabinet. When she came back, she held a far more refined blade. The dark blade was etched with energized filaments that pulsed like a metallic heartbeat.

“Here,” she said, extending the knife to Leo. “Energized blade. Balanced. And sharp.”

Leo took it, feeling the weight shift in his hand. It was almost as if the blade breathed against his palm.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

Rubi ignored him, already pulling a pair of boots from the floor with a dry scrape and placing them on the table. Her hands moved with mechanical precision as she adjusted some embedded wires, almost like an artist fine-tuning their craft.

“Basic agility amplification,” she explained, not looking up from her work. “You’ll run faster, react better, jump farther. A functional hack, but it's still my work. You won’t find anything this precise anywhere else.”

“How does it work?” Leo asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

Rubi’s eyes lingered on him, her expression cool but edged with something unspoken. Her hands hovered over the boots before she clicked her tongue softly and answered. “Alright. Pay attention, because I won’t explain this twice.”

She picked up one of the boots, turning it in her hands as she continued, “Micro-stabilizers are built into the sole, connected by fiber conductors to your nervous system. When you move, the sensors pick up your body’s electrical impulses and adjust the response in real-time.” She tapped the side of the boot as if daring Leo to doubt her. “It reduces the lag between your intention and movement, maximizing the force you apply. A hack? Maybe. But one that works.”

Leo nodded, impressed. He touched the surface of the boot carefully, noticing the nearly invisible wires pulsing faintly with light, like metallic veins.

“Doesn’t feel like a hack to me,” he murmured.

Rubi gave a faint smile, just for a moment, before turning to grab another tool. As she adjusted the last wire on the boots, Leo noticed the object in her hand shift in a strange way. What looked like a screwdriver a second ago transformed into a pair of electronic pincers with a soft click.

“What was that?” Leo asked, startled, pointing to the tool now glowing faintly blue.

Rubi stopped, turned the object in her hand, and let it morph again, this time into a compact pistol. The device’s edges shimmered lightly as she handled it with practiced ease.

“This,” she began, a touch of pride in her voice, “is a symbiont. Living. It molds to my body and responds to whatever I need. A companion that never fails.”

“Living?” Leo frowned. That didn’t make sense.

Rubi hesitated, studying him as if deciding whether it was worth explaining. Finally, she set the boot down and leaned against the table, spinning the symbiont in her fingers.

“It’s biotechnology fused with programmed microorganisms,” she explained, her voice steady but deliberate. “When a symbiont bonds with someone, it syncs with their body, learning their movements and adapting in real-time. It’s like a part of you. Responding to your thoughts and movements in real-time.”

Leo stared at the object, fascinated. It seemed impossible.

“So… this is the same thing Diego uses?” he asked, glancing at Diego.

Rubi scoffed, almost offended by the comparison. “It works the same way, but that’s where the similarity ends. Symbionts aren’t the same for everyone. They mold themselves to the person using them, adapting to their unique traits.”

She gestured to Diego’s arm. “His, for example, is straightforward and brute. That’s who he is. It responds to physical command, not intent. He thinks about punching something, and the symbiont does the rest. Simple… and effective.”

“Practical,” Diego added with a satisfied shrug and a smirk.

“Primitive,” Rubi corrected, her tone laced with sarcasm. “But it works for him.” She turned back to Leo, her eyes growing more serious. “Mine, on the other hand, is very different. It’s fluid, adjusting to the precision and control I need. A symbiont is more than a tool. It’s a bond. An extension of who you are.”

Leo furrowed his brow, still trying to process. “So… it kind of… knows who you are?”

“In a way, yes,” Rubi replied, tilting her head. “It responds to your essence, your movements, your way of thinking. It’s not something you choose. It’s something that happens naturally.”

She held the symbiont on her arm, letting it flow like liquid before solidifying again, first into a thin, gleaming blade, then into a compact pistol, before returning to its original form. “That’s why every symbiont is unique. It doesn’t just adapt to you. It responds to your needs. Whether it’s a tool, a weapon, or whatever else, it becomes part of you.”

“If it’s this advanced… why not use it for, I don’t know, medicine? Regenerating limbs, curing diseases?” Leo asked, his mind racing with the possibilities.

Rubi paused, her eyes locking onto his for a moment. The light humor in her expression faded, replaced by something harder, sharper.

“Because the world doesn’t work that way,” she said quietly. “If something can be used as a weapon, that’s where the investment goes. We could regenerate bones, create perfect prosthetics… But what do they do? Arm soldiers. Protect corporations. And if the Vanguard gets their hands on something like this…”

She let the sentence trail off, but Leo understood enough. The same technology that could save lives was being used to destroy them. Humanity’s drive to create was shadowed by its capacity to corrupt.

For a moment, Rubi remained silent, just staring at the symbiont in her hand. Then, as if burying the reflection under the weight of pressing tasks, she returned to work.

“The boots are ready,” she said, pushing them toward Leo. “Try not to embarrass me,” Rubi said dryly, pushing the boots toward Leo. A brief smirk softened her sharp tone.

Leo slid the boots on, feeling the faint pulsing around his feet as they adjusted to his form. He took a step and felt an immediate response, the pressure of the ground returned with surprising efficiency.

“I feel… better,” he murmured, testing another step.

“Now you know why I was faster in that alley,” Diego said with a smug grin.

Rubi crossed her arms, observing the two with an evaluative gaze. “So, what’s the next step? You two don’t seem like you have time to waste.”

“District Four,” Diego replied.

The name made Rubi raise an eyebrow in surprise. “Going back home, Diego?”

Diego laughed, but the sound was muted, almost humorless.

“There’s someone in District Four. An informant. He might know something,” Diego said, his gaze shifting.

Rubi watched him for a moment longer than usual but didn’t say anything. Instead, she turned her attention to Leo.

“Be careful out there,” she said, her tone more serious. “You never know what you’ll run into.”

Leo nodded, still absorbing everything he’d seen and heard. He followed Diego toward the door but glanced back one last time.

Rubi was already immersed in her work again, her agile fingers manipulating wires and circuits. The symbiont rested in her hand, something precious and dangerous. The bluish glow of the monitors reflected on her face, and for an instant, Leo saw someone else there.

Lucy.

His sister used to wear the same expression: the furrowed brow of concentration, the spark in her eyes when she was dismantling or adjusting something, lost in a world only she seemed to inhabit. When Lucy worked on her inventions, the rest of the universe dissolved—just as it did for Rubi now.

The memory tightened around Leo’s chest, an invisible chain pulling him into the past. For the thousandth time, he asked himself: What had Lucy known? What could be so important that it cost her life? Maybe, if he could uncover the truth, he’d finally make sense of everything.

Leo touched the necklace around his neck, the gift Lucy had given him before she left. The cold surface against his fingers felt weighted with memory and promise.

The emptiness she’d left behind felt even deeper at that moment, surrounded by advanced technology and machines that changed lives. It was as if Lucy could have been here, standing beside Rubi, exchanging ideas, debating circuits and symbionts, excited about possibilities no one else could see. Maybe, deep down, that was why he felt the need to keep going—to find answers. To honor her memory.

Diego called his name, snapping him back to reality. “Let’s go, Leo.”

Leo took a deep breath and let go of the necklace slowly as if tucking Lucy’s memory back into his heart. He cast one last glance at Rubi, who remained focused, oblivious to everything around her, and then followed Diego out.

Each step felt firmer than the last, but Leo’s mind was elsewhere, trapped in unanswered questions. District Four was just another unfamiliar place to him, but Diego seemed burdened by a different weight.

Whatever District Four held, Leo knew it wasn’t just about answers. It was about Lucy, her secrets, her sacrifice, and the truth that had cost her everything.