Here
The man who waited in the alley didn't look dangerous. But neither did the first person who tried to kill Kyren.
He wore an old coat lined with stitched-on badges from five different sectors, a cracked comm unit on one wrist, and a translator chip scar under his left eye. He stood in the shadow of a broken vending machine, sipping from a dented can like he had all the time in the world.
Kyren stopped a few feet away, spear in hand.
"You know my name," he said.
The man nodded. "And you don't know mine. Balance."
Chiyo moved into place beside Kyren. "You smell like intel."
The man chuckled. "I should. Name's Rios. I used to be Archive Black. Now I'm freelance. And I'm here because what's chasing you? It's a rerun."
Kyren didn't lower the spear. "What do you mean, rerun?"
Rios took another sip. "You're not the first one they've called the Laughing Devil. You're just the first one the world remembered."
Kyren blinked. "There was another?"
"There was," Rios said. "And I helped erase him."
They moved to neutral ground—a rooftop safehouse wired with signal dampeners. Chiyo swept it twice before letting anyone speak.
Rios didn't waste time.
"His name was Jalen Tev. Sector Eight. Ten years ago. He was a prototype. Chosen, not born, for the Laughing Devil Inheritance. They injected him with synthetic rhythm sequences, bound him to an artificial spear, trained him for chaos resonance."
Kyren sat still, every muscle tense. "What happened?"
"He laughed too much," Rios said. "Stopped obeying the Guild's tempo controls. Started freestyling. The style mutated. Got unpredictable. Dangerous."
Chiyo frowned. "So they shut him down?"
"They tried," Rios said. "But first, they made him famous. Built him into a myth. Then, when they couldn't control him anymore, they rewrote him into a mistake."
Kyren's grip tightened on the spear. "What happened to the body?"
"No one knows," Rios said. "But the rhythm he created—the original—keeps showing up in rogue codes. Glitches in undernet loops. Echoes in dream fragments. I think part of him's still alive."
Jamo, who had stayed quiet until now, leaned forward. "So why tell us this?"
Rios looked directly at Kyren. "Because they've already started rewriting you the same way. They've changed your classification. Reordered your digital lineage. They're preparing the world to forget you ever existed."
Kyren stood. "Then why are you helping me?"
Rios finished his drink. "Because I failed him. And I don't want to fail you."
That night, Kyren couldn't sleep.
He stared at his hands, flexed his fingers, watched the glow of the glyphs pulse under his skin like quiet breathing.
"You awake?" Chiyo asked, sitting beside him.
"Yeah."
"You believe him?"
Kyren thought about it. "I believe the parts that hurt."
She didn't answer for a while.
Then: "If this gets worse, I'm staying."
Kyren looked at her. "Why?"
"Because I want to see what happens when they try to erase someone who refuses to disappear."
The next morning, Kairashi sat on top of the fridge, munching on uncooked noodles.
"They're coming," they said through a mouthful of crunch.
"Who?" Kyren asked.
"The recruiter. One who doesn't bring blades. Just promises."
Jamo groaned. "Great. Now they're sending salesmen."
Kyren looked to Rios.
He nodded. "They always try diplomacy before deletion."
"What should I do?" Kyren asked.
"Say no. Then get ready."
The recruiter arrived in a clean suit and polished boots. No weapons. No mask. Just a smile and a briefcase.
He met Kyren in the alley and extended a hand.
"Mr. Omari. I represent the Alignment Guild. We'd like to offer you... a future."
Kyren didn't shake.
The man smiled wider. "We understand you've had a difficult awakening. The system is messy. Emotional. We'd like to help tidy it up."
"By rewriting me?"
"By protecting your image," the man corrected. "If you let us guide the narrative, we can make you a hero. A legend. Immortal."
Kyren stared. "And what do I lose?"
"Only the parts of yourself that don't test well with audiences."
Chiyo appeared behind him. "We already said no."
The recruiter glanced at her. "Then you already understand the consequences."
Jamo dropped a wrench behind him. "Oops. Hope that doesn't mess with your exit."
The recruiter didn't flinch.
But he did step back.
"We'll be in touch," he said, and vanished into the fog.
That night, Kyren stood at the edge of the roof, watching the lights of Oraka blink like dying stars.
"They're going to come harder now," he said.
"Yes," Rios replied.
"They'll rewrite my name, my story, my face."
"They'll try."
Kyren looked at his reflection in the spear's shaft. It shimmered.
"Let them," he said. "I'll write louder."