Thirteen crouched at the back of the van, tapping away at his laptop. The barbed fence lay a few meters away, almost disappearing beneath the glare of watchlights roaming the property. If he could just shut down the electric grids...

"I can't sense anything within the complex," Kevan interjected, scattering Thirteen's thoughts into the cold wind. Was Ji-yeon stirring things up again? "We can just go in."

"We still have to stage it, you know," Thirteen replied, fingers flying across the keyboard as he accessed the city's electrical systems. Within a few minutes, he was inside. Damn those routine refreshes. If not for those, they would have started this operation earlier. "We're not some random kids wandering the wrong place at the wrong time. We're here to send a message."

"Whatever message it is, I'm sure Shaw's already got it," Alon replied, speaking more and more like those sitcom shows he had grown fond of consuming. While planning for their next targets, it was all Alon did, hogging the couch in the process too. "We've attacked a number of his facilities already."

While the boy has the point, it didn't sit well with Thirteen at how quiet Shaw has been since the trail of seemingly isolated cases started popping up in the news. It took a while, but Thirteen understood how the bigger world operated. People got their information on a number of places, but the largest source was the network called the Internet. Mass media went hand-in-hand with it as well, and people deemed information was serious and important if one of those broadcasting companies relayed it to them. A good thing Thirteen knew someone working in such a company.

Upon accessing all of Primeva's secrets, it was obvious how Shaw could just purge the database and deny all of the accusations if Thirteen ever attempted to make them public. So, the plan took a different shape. Instead of divulging the truth as it was, he'd nudge the right people and organizations until they were able to piece the truth for themselves. If information couldn't come from Primeva, it would come from outside. All Thirteen had to do was hand them the clues that would set them in the right direction.

Thirteen was also aware of the extent of Shaw's power and influence in this world. With lucrative deals, mergers, and acquisitions, he had inserted his name in almost every industry possible. He spread himself too thin, but the family businesses enabled him to stabilize himself across the board. That made him hard to uproot, and governments and agencies around the world were taking their sweet time deciding what to do. Even the organization Thirteen had been in contact with had flaked out when he mentioned who his target was. Understandable. What could a mid-sized cartel do to a global tycoon whose life was probably worth more than the entire planet?

Shaw had every capability to shut down any attempts at investigation, silence every individual who dared speak up, and squash any working salaryman should they try to go after him. That was why Thirteen had turned to popular media and discovered several places where he could establish rumors, feed on conspiracy theories, and recalibrate algorithms to flood viewers with those content for a long, long time. Information spread fast in this fast-paced world, and even Shaw was no match for billions of people.

Thirteen needed a catalyst to kickstart the whole chain of events, and that was what he had been doing with his companions since then. All of those properties had something to do with Primeva, and the reason why Shaw invested and got involved with seemingly random companies and industries was because of their reach, real estate portfolio, and access to the population's information. That was how Shaw profiled and hunted down his victims, and Thirteen had to put a stop to that.

Not that he was feeling heroic. He just didn't want to give Shaw the satisfaction of getting away with his antics without some form of justice in this world. Thirteen existed to remind Shaw that the tycoon wasn't the owner of this world, and that money wasn't the only power that owned it. He would prove that Shaw couldn't continue hiding behind his wealth, using it for everything and everywhere he could.

Shaw must go down simply because of the hell he made Thirteen go through. If there was something good that would arise from it, better.

That was why he was still out here, trying to shut down the generators in this complex. "I doubt Shaw isn't aware of us," Thirteen answered, chewing on his lip as he watched line after line pop up on the screen while his command ran. People looked at him as if he was a freaking superhero whenever he entered a system of two. Little did they know that most of it was just sitting around and watching letters flit by. "But I'm curious how far he would tolerate us when he knows it will only be a matter of time before this issue becomes bigger than he can handle. His portfolio has been taking a dive lately."

Part of Jaq's gift was giving them access to the real time management and forecast system of her father's assets. Stock prices have dropped, investors and partnerships have dropped out, and thanks to Thirteen's meddling, most of their subsidiaries, conglomerates, and companies suffered heavy blows from both the public and the media. Shaw has been shelling out on arms, investigation firms, bribes, and witness silencing. A part of Thirteen was curious how their eternal enemy would react when everything in his life suddenly came crashing. Shouldn't have cast himself into an open sea without knowing how to swim through a hurricane.

"How much longer would that take?" Jocasta sighed and propped her elbow against the door's bar-like hinge. With her height, she didn't even need to stand on tiptoes. "Alon's right. We can just get in without setting off an explosion."

Thirteen shut his laptop and blew a breath. "Fine," he said. "Don't blame me if something about this goes wrong. It won't hurt to be cautious, but for God's sake, go ahead."

If Jocasta was irked by that reply, she didn't show it. Instead, she peeled away from the doors and slammed them shut when Thirteen leaped off from it. The sidewalk crunched underneath his soles. Ji-yeon's boots clattered against the van's hood, her hands tucked into her pockets. "Is it go-time? I'm bored," she whined.

Thirteen rolled his eyes and jerked his chin towards the fence. "I've disabled the current here, at least. We can go through."

A spark, and Jocasta stepped away from her work, bracing her hip. Flames snuffed out of the lip of her thrower when she turned it off. Someone has had fun raiding a hardware shop. Again. He turned to the fence to find a person-sized hole whose edges had started dimming as they cooled.

"There we go," Jocasta breathed, ducking through the hole. Kevan and Alon followed soon after. Ji-yeon simply flitted past it and touched down on the grass. "Markel, you coming?"

Thirteen schooled his features to a neutral stare. He couldn't be frowning all the time. Together, they marched towards the building's backdoor. With its semi-futuristic architecture, the facade resembled an airport and a hotel at the same time, defeating the grim realities beneath it. The backdoor, a languid shed attached at the building's rear, burst open when Thirteen picked the lock. He could just have Jocasta melt it down, but they would want to keep it discreet. The attention shouldn't be on the crime itself, but on the things that it would reveal.

The smell of antiseptic hit Thirteen's nose the moment they emerged from the emergency exit halls and entered the dim corridors. With everything turned off, including the searchlights outside the yard, he fished the flashlight from his belt and waved it around. For a hospital, they sure took rest to a higher degree. Even the workers got it.

"Kevan? Any signals?" Thirteen prodded.

The boy shook his head. Okay, this might be a trap. They needed to get out. Thirteen was about to open his mouth when Jocasta turned a knob. The door swung inside with ease and a smalll whine. He tapped the comms in his ear, connecting to Ji-yeon's line. "Any hostiles?"

"Calm your ass, Markel. I sense nothing," Ji-yeon grouched. "Just do your thing there and get out. I need to know what happens to my Chan-seo."

Ah. Fictional media has taken her from them as well. "Everyone, find a quick vein we can exploit."

This was a hospital. An exposed wire, chemical spills, contamination, machine malfunctions. Anything could go. This wasn't their first hospital either. The one in Budapest was especially nasty. Moving through the sea of panicking bodies was an experience Thirteen wouldn't wish on anyone other than Shaw.

"Kevan, try to feel around for thoughts underground," Thirteen ordered, following Jocasta to where she had gone. Alon slipped through before the door closed. "I'll scan for jammers as well."

He was about to wake his phone up with a tap when his periphery caught a figure seated on the sofa. His head snapped up, his gaze resting on a middle-aged man in a pinstripe suit, tapping a hand on the tip of a diamond cane. A monocle glinted against the shafts of moonlight streaming from the curtainless windows behind the desk.

"Shaw," Thirteen said. From the other side of the comms, he heard Ji-yeon take a sharp breath. His fingers brushed against the gun on his belt, the one Jocasta made him a few months ago. "So, you finally turned up."

The tycoon put one hand on top of the one gripping the top of his cane. "I was hoping we can reach an accord with how we are to proceed from this altercation. Dare I say—they are quite...petty." He inclined his head at them. "What about what I do is so wrong?"

They have had this conversation before. The sheer haughtiness and the immovable belief in himself shone through then. It didn't get any subtler. "The fact that you genuinely don't know makes it more concerning."

"I hope you've had a good time with your individual escapades," Shaw said. "You must have realized by now—I'm doing nature a favor by taking what's discarded and doing something useful with them. Hard choices must be made, and we won't go anywhere if we keep on toeing the line. Someday, even that line is bound to disappear."

"The clock is ticking, Thirteen." Shaw met his gaze, dark irises against darker ones. It didn't matter which was which. "We can't save everyone, but we can make their lives count towards something noble. Something...progressive."

A smile pulled Shaw's lips apart. He looked as if he swallowed a pill of poison. "So, let's talk business," he said. "My terms are simple: quit bombing my properties and stay silent about Primeva, and I will rescind the hunt and let you go. To live your life as you please. I have given you the power to choose your fate, and like the promise I've given to some, if not most, of you, I'm giving you a second chance. A second shot at life."

Thirteen whipped the gun from behind and leveled it at Shaw. It was so easy—clicking the trigger and watching the bullet dig into Shaw's temple. He would stare at the man until the light in his eyes died and his body slump forward. His blood would color the rug's threads crimson. Officials would raid this place and find the body of the well-known tycoon. It was so easy, but Thirteen's finger froze, hooked on the trigger but never moving past that.

"You should have let me die. My mother's death would have been justified," Thirteen rasped. "It wasn't a second chance. It's just a continuation of suffering."

Shaw hummed, but didn't deny it. Thirteen gritted his teeth. "You're not a god, so stop playing one," he said. His ability flared to life, reaching for Shaw's body. Just a precaution. In case the shot didn't work and Shaw moved a little faster than his age. Shaw remained passive, turning to the window to check the height of the moon in the sky. The ability didn't work. Why...?

When Shaw turned to him, Thirteen clicked the trigger. A shot rang inside the room, sending his companions ducking their heads underneath their arms. Scratching sounds followed suit, drowning the silence that should have come. Lights glitched, stemming from where Thirteen's bullet hit the glass-like screen installed in the latter half of the room.

The hologram stood up from the chair, leaving the scorch mark without a hint of pain. "I must admit, Thirteen—I have been intrigued by you since the trial started," Shaw said, tucking his hands behind him. "You are an anomaly through and through. Not only did I use your story's template in forming the reconstructed memories in most trials with and after you, but you proved to me that even the most hopeless cases can be saved."

"You died and came back to life—a feat never accomplished by science and technology before," Shaw said. "But your body didn't react to the Founding Chip. I made the executive decision to send you in anyway. And by God, you proved to be an interesting hypothesis. A...starting point to a research trajectory we haven't considered before."

"Consider this as the last gift from me as The Corrector," Shaw said. "There is one thing I wasn't able to correct for you."

Thirteen narrowed his eyes. "How do I know you're not lying?"

Shaw rolled his shoulders. "Why would I lie? You must have felt it yourself," he replied. "Because the more you use your pseudo-ability—one brought about by switching multiple Founding Chips—the faster you'll be undoing the biological safeguards we put to halt the progression of your illness. Think about it, Thirteen. I know your weakness; I know what situations require you to resort to your only weapon against me. Choose wisely, child. You may not be given that chance again."

Before Thirteen could think of a reply, Shaw retreated. The screen blinked off, plunging the room to its original state before Shaw's holo-tech powered on. He whirled to the others just as the office's doors snapped open and men dressed in black suits flooded in.

"International Intelligence and Investigation Service Unit," the man on the lead with dark shades covering half of his face said, flashing a badge for them to see. "You are under arrest for multiple property damages, manslaughter, obstruction of justice, slander, and illegal possession of firearms across multiple international territories. You may come with us peacefully. If not, we will not hold back on punitive harm."

Thirteen glanced at the screen. Was Shaw merely buying time? Was he the one who called the authorities here, to catch them red-handed? This was a trap. He underestimated Shaw and relied too much on his own cards.

I know your weakness, Shaw had said. I know what situations require you to resort to your only weapon against me. This one might have been one of them, and Shaw knew that like he knew everything about his damned creations.