Given what they'd already been through, it worried Arrow that the pain they felt now was worse than anything they'd experienced before. Even when they'd been stabbed by a codewraith, and when Holly had tried to kill them, and they'd fallen through several levels of rock and rubble – it hadn't hurt like this.

They moved gingerly. Arrow let out a faint whimper, feeling a surge of blazing agony in their shattered wrist. They'd lost hold of their wand in the fight; had no way to check how bad the damage actually was. Their windpipe throbbed and they struggled to get breath into their lungs. They blinked, eventually opening their eyes to find a film of crimson over everything.

Arrow remembered the lacerating shards cutting through the skin of their face, and Piper confronting that crimson-eyed fucker.

It took what felt like years, but they managed to struggle into a sitting position. That's when the silence really hit home. No life, no light, just the faint rumble of the city overhead. Peering into the gloom, they could just about make out the wrecked forms of the codewraiths and mechs, as well as some bodies from their unlucky security detachment.

They moved some part of their body that they shouldn't have. Agony slammed through them so violently that they couldn't even really pinpoint where it had originated. They waited. Counted to ten and waited for the pain to ebb away. It didn't – not really, but it deadened enough for them to open their eyes again.

Dark. Very dark. They remembered dimly that only their left arm was usable. Moving with agonising care, they squirmed up into a sitting position. A fresh tsunami of pain crashed against the back of Arrow's eyes. They breathed. In and out. As quick as they dared. Their eyes slowly adjusted.

Some of the lighting fixtures sputtered in vain, their sparks providing a little bit of illumination.

Piper's gone.

The words finally surfaced into their mind. Arrow let out a choking noise – part grief and part rage – trying to piece together just what the hell had happened down here. A trap. It had all been a fucking trap, just for Piper.

Why? Why, why, why? How did any of this fit together. They couldn't concentrate. The logical threads were knocked loose by a fresh jolt of agony every few seconds. Then something else punched through that fog of frustration and pain.

Noise. Footsteps. Some voices. It all sounded muddy, as thought it had been passed through a blender and they now had to try and pick out the individual ingredients. Arrow gingerly swivelled in their sitting position, cradling their shattered arm with the other hand. They could see gun-mounted flashlights cutting into the dark.

That was good. Hopefully. Arrow hadn't seen any of the machines carrying guns. They waited, unable to even muster up the energy to call out. Just waiting, waiting, waiting, until an errant beam of light swept over them.

"Sir!" someone shouted, agonisingly loud. "Over here!"

The trooper came into view a moment later – a bulky silhouette of armour just visible beyond the glare of his gun-mounted torch. Arrow closed their eyes, unable to look at the brightness without fresh cascades of pain rattling through their skull.

"Fuck sake, ease off!" snarled a familiar voice. "Gonna burn their eyes out with that thing."

Then firm hands on their shoulders. The smell of that dumb, over-blown fucking cologne that most people couldn't have paid for with a month's salary. A tone of voice that could have scorched earth all on its own.

"Arrow?"

"Hi... Mr. Knox," they managed in a weak croak.

"Jesus," he grated, shaking his head and doing a very bad job at making them feel particularly optimistic.

"You okay?"

"What do ... you think?" Arrow rasped. They opened their eyes and looked at his face. It was probably most frightened they'd ever seen him. When he met their gaze, he quickly gathered himself, his cocksure facade reasserting itself.

"You've had worse."

"Oh, you think so?" They broke off; grimaced. "Shit... don't make me laugh."

"Where's Piper?"

"I..." They tried to think back to what had happened, peering through the pain to try and grab a reliable memory. Their implants felt sore, biting into their bones, connections misfiring. They remembered the violent, snapping pain in their wrist, and the feeling of certain death, before Piper had offered herself up.

Did that happen? Arrow remembered flying through the air and... and not much else.

"I think he took her."

"He?"

"The leader," they croaked. "It was a trap. Piper. He wanted Piper. I just... just got in the way."

"Where did they take her?"

Arrow just shook their head.

"Did they say why?"

A shrug. "Looks like everyone... thinks Piper is all kinds of special," they rasped.

Toran's face was tight with frustration. Not enough information. Not a good report. But he kept a lid on it, forcing an uncomfortable smile onto his face and nodding.

"Let's get you out of here. I've got teams sweeping this tunnel in both directions. We'll find her."

Arrow wasn't about to argue. One of the accompanying soldiers wrapped a hasty field-splint into place around the injured arm, and shot a heavy dose of painkillers into the side of their neck. Some of the agony receded, enough that they could struggle upright with a few helping hands.

Their senses sharpened a little, enough to pick out the swarm of at least twenty corporate security troopers and a handful of loyalist AmpCore practitioners moving through the tunnel around them, scanning the wreckage, examining the dead codewraiths and cyborgs; checking the mutilated bodies of their comrades for any sign of life.

As they staggered along with Toran supporting them, Arrow felt something else in the darkness, a faint echo in the ravaged datastreams around them. It was a scattered sensation out in front of them, little pinpricks of light in the darkness.

Then memory surged back. The shatter; the fiery shards flying in all directions.

Piper's amplifier.

"Wait," Arrow murmured weakly, shrugging Toran's hand away.

"Arrow-,"

"Wait." They found more strength to repeat it. Deep breath. In out. Look. Feel. They felt the slivers of precious metal long before they saw them. The mangled, eviscerated remnants of Piper's amplifier. The pain was too much for Arrow to risk using their wand to gather them, so they slowly and carefully sank down onto their knees, their uninjured hand outstretched, just groping into the world for sensations.

"What are you doing?" Toran asked, his voice tight with anxiety. "You need to get to an AIP."

Arrow ignored him, feeling around until they found what they were looking for. It took a minute in their current state, but they managed to find the shards – the shattered pieces of Piper's amplifier. It was heart-wrenching to feel it, a thing of beauty like that, destroyed in such barbaric fashion.

Breathing hard, Arrow pressed their palm to the floor and pulled with what little strength they had left. A feeble magnetic pull emanated from their skin, weak, but enough to pull those slim shards out from amongst the rubble.

Toran watched silently as they worked. Tiny slivers of metal glinted under the light of gun-mounted torches, peeling their way out from the darkness, from tiny crevices and recesses within the cave-in. After a few minutes, a small pile of them lay in the palm of Arrow's hand. They felt around for a little longer, but it seemed this was everything – a sad little collection of shards – all that they had left of Piper right now.

"She'll need it," Arrow croaked, "when she comes back."

Toran nodded slowly. They could see the dubiousness on his face, but he managed a smile.

"We'll find her," he said again, "but right now, it's you I'm worried about. C'mon. At least you can give Odiye some company in the infirmary."

He didn't quite manage to hide the crack in his voice.

*

Odiye Tambo had hoped he'd wake up to a more pleasant reality than the one he'd left,

No such luck. When the AIPs had first let him ebb back into consciousness, he found himself still swimming in a sea of agony all up and down his left side. The vision in one eye was still fuzzy and he could barely move his limbs on that side.

The demure, aloof middle-aged woman attending as his AIP had explained that they needed him awake to finish the job.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, from his lessons, he knew that, but that didn't make the reality any more palatable. So another full day of feeling his cells get yanked this way and that followed. Bit by bit the pain started to subside, and he was relieved to find that his implants hadn't suffered any serious damage in the blast.

The infirmary was fuller than he remembered, with both recovering AmpCore agents and several members of the academy's security personnel, sporting a frightening array of injuries. Things out in the city were fast spiralling out of control. He felt a churn of frustration, stuck here, impotent while his friends were out there with their lives on the line.

In the early hours of the morning, he eventually mustered up the energy to lever himself out of the medical cradle and go for a short, stiff walk. His left leg remained wrapped in a brace while the realigned bones and skin grafts solidified, a hell of a lot faster than most people could ever hope for, but still maddeningly slow given everything that was happening.

That whole side of his body still felt delicate – tender. The smoothed-over skin, that just a day ago had been a blistered, bloody mess, didn't feel real. His implants were tentative, like an animal faced with something new.

So he limped, longing for the connection of his amplifier, but at the same time knowing he lacked the strength to properly control it right now. Clad in a plain white t-shirt and hospital trousers, he lumbered towards the door.

Odiye had barely staggered out of the infirmary and into the hall, when Dr Carstairs almost slammed into him coming the other way.

"Fuckin' hell, what are you doing up and about?" the man grated around his cigarette.

"The AIP said it was okay if I-,"

"Never mind, never mind. Just get out of the way would you?"

"What's happening?"

"Your friend," Carstairs huffed, taking a breath and looking Odiye in the eye, "the whizzkid – Gibbs isn't it?"

"Arrow Gibbs," he confirmed as he swivelled to get out of the doorway. "What is it?"

"Looks like you aren't the only one to have a run in with those metal freaks out there. Toran's bringing them in, and the way he's talking, they're in a bad way."

"What happened?"

"You're about to find out." Carstairs turned to the attending medics and AIPs in the infirmary. "Look sharp everybody!" he barked. "Fresh casualties coming in hot."

The next moment he heard the footsteps and the voices. Then he saw them, the field cradle being virtually hurled down the corridor in their direction. Arrow lay inside it, their arm clamped in a metal bone-setter, their AmpCore armour stripped away to reveal just a tanktop and trousers, and the myriad of cuts and bruises all over their skin. An oxygen mask was clamped over their nose and mouth; blood caked the side of their head.

They flashed by so quickly he barely had time to take it all in. Medical staff swarmed around the cradle, and along with Carstairs, they disappeared into the infirmary.

"What happened?" Odiye blurted, turning to Toran as the door slammed shut, "and where's Piper?"

"Son of a bitch laid a trap for them," his friend snarled, pacing back and forth like a wild animal. "Lured them into that tunnel and pounced. The leader – he wanted Piper. He took her." He gestured vaguely to the infirmary. "Arrow just got caught in the crossfire."

Odiye's balance swayed slightly as his implants reacted to the news. His body reeled – literally – and he had to plant a hand against the wall to steady himself.

"So she's...?"

"I don't know, Odiye! I don't know." Toran lashed out, kicking a nearby trolley hard enough to send it crashing to the ground, scattering medical supplies across the corridor floor. Breathing deep through his nose, he dragged both his hands down his face wearily. "Arrow was barely conscious when we got there. Couldn't give me much. I've got teams sweeping the tunnel now to find something – anything."

He tried to process it. On some level his mind just rejected the notion that anyone could take Piper Russel somewhere she really didn't want to go. He'd seen enough evidence of that over the last year.

But this was real. Piper was out there somewhere, in the hands of... someone. Some thing, that wanted to tear the city apart.

He pushed through that instinctive barrier and forced himself to confront the reality. If Toran had said it, then it happened.

He felt his implants bend and press against his bones as the thought permeated through his body. Thoughts. Feelings. Memories of her lips on his, their skin pressed together, their implants connecting them with more savage, animal instinct than any normal person could comprehend. He didn't know exactly what he felt for her, but he knew she felt it too. Suddenly, like a punch in the throat, the thought of her being gone entered his mind.

Pain rippled through his left side as his implants reacted violently to the very idea. Gritting his teeth, he sucking in a breath and tamped the sensation down.

"Who was it?" Odiye managed after a moment. "Who's 'he'?"

"How in the bloody-fuck am I supposed to know?!" Toran snarled, taking a step over to infirmary window and looking inside. "I didn't see it. They missed their check-in so I figured something was wrong. By the time we got there..." He waved a helpless hand towards Arrow. "We were lucky we got there when we did."

"Will Arrow be alright?"

"I think so." He leaned forward a little, his head resting against the glass. "Out of my hands now, though."

"Where did it happen?"

"An old subway tunnel – ran by the AF156 line, a couple of blocks south of their entryway."

"South? Towards the river?"

"Yes, towards the river. So fucking what?" Toran finally turned and looked him in the eye. "There are miles of tunnel down there, Odiye. Those things are still popping up all over the Heart. It's taking all the resources we've got just to keep the streets patrolled. I don't have people to sweep every inch of the fucking sewers along with it."

Odiye nodded. "Then I'd better get back out there and help."

"Easy, tough guy. I know you and her have got..." he shrugged, "a thing, but you're still putting yourself together from the last time."

"I'm walking and talking. And you could use the help."

That got a smile. Toran shook his head and returned his attention to the window, staring in and watching as the medics swarmed around Arrow. The smile faded.

Odiye limped over to stand beside him. He could feel the residual anxiety rippling up and down his friend's body in rolling, steady waves. Every muscle was taut beneath that exterior shell.

"They're going to be alright," he said quietly, nodding to the working medical staff.

"Fuck, I hope so." Toran hung his head a little. "You know, I used give them shit for being... you know, they way they are."

"Yes, you did."

"I really was a prick."

Odiye shrugged awkwardly. "You were hardly the only one."

"And they still saved my life. You remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. What's your point, exactly?"

"I just..." Toran scuffed a foot uncomfortably against the ground, "it'd be a real shit ending if I didn't at least get to apologise, you know? It's just something I never said, and I should have. Without them..." Another shake of the head. "I think we'd all have been fucked long ago, don't you think?"

He didn't quite know what to say to that. Toran Knox had never been the most introspective person – at least not to an outside observer. Seeing him now, the guilt and the remorse winding around his implants, was actually a little unnerving. Without Ferra, some of his vicious edges seemed to have gradually blunted over time. Right now, Odiye rather wanted those edges back again.

With nothing constructive to add, he just nodded and put a hand on Toran's shoulder. They stood there, watching in an uneasy silence as Carstairs and his team worked fervently.

The quiet didn't last long. The sound of quick footsteps entered Odiye's ears: a frantic clack-clack-clack too quick for a normal walk. The hallmark of someone moving as fast as they possibly could while maintaining some veneer of poise and control. He let his hand drop and turned to look over his shoulder.

A young man with ghostly pale skin and a shaven head was marching towards them with fearsome speed, clad in an AmpCore uniform and sporting a Skiltron Fireware logo on his shoulder. He was also making no effort to hide the expression of outright fear on his face.

"Mr Knox!"

His voice matched his face, coming out in an almost desperate, high-pitched blurt.

"Jesus Christ." Toran twisted around to face the man. "What is it now?!"

The operative's mouth flapped uneasily and he cleared his throat. He stopped dead, standing tightly to attention and clasping his hands tightly together behind his back. Even with a cocktail full of drugs still pumping through his system, Odiye knew that couldn't be a good sign.

"Operative Matzenmyer, sir." He gave a tight, bow of his head. "I'm... I'm sorry, sir, it's just, there's been a development."

"What development?!"

"It's your father, sir."

"What the hell does he want now?" Toran thundered. "I'm already doing everything I can. We are losing people left right and centre out there. We need more manpower!" He pointed to the door. "Get the fuck out of here and tell him that."

"I can't, sir."

"Excuse me?"

"What do you mean, you can't?" Odiye asked, a horrible feeling twisting in his chest.

"Executive Knox is missing." Matzenmyer swallowed hard and took a precautionary step backwards. "We can't find him anywhere."