The whispers turned into rumors. The rumors turned into fear.
Not just from the streets from above.
Corpos didn't like anomalies. Especially not ones they didn't build, buy, or control. Ash had become just that. A ghost in power armor cobbled from their own refuse, carving out a myth with every job.
So they sent a message.
It came in the form of a blacked-out convoy rolling through Watson, silent and heavy. No logos. No signals. Just chrome and intent.
Kira picked them up on the scanner first. "No registry. Moving fast. Military precision."
Ash was already suiting up.
The attack came at night.
A full strike team five operators in high-end Arasaka exo-frames, cloaked, silent, armed with anti-cyberware weapons. They hit his bunker perimeter with surgical grace. No noise. No warning. Just motion sensors dying in sequence.
Ash met them outside.
Mark III was ready.
The first Reaper leapt from the shadows, blades glinting. Ash parried with his forearm plate, countered with a blast from his chest EMP node. The Reaper twitched, systems lagging. Ash drove his fist into its core, crushing the power cell.
Another came from the flank triple-jointed limbs, Sandevistan engaged. Ash used predictive motion mapping to dodge a flurry of strikes, then brought the plasma blade up in a rising arc. Steel met flame. The exo's upper half fell twitching.
They fought like machines.
He fought like a forge.
Even so, they pressed him. Coordinated. Adaptive. And worst of all backed by tech superior to his own. For the first time in weeks, Ash felt outmatched.
Kira's voice in his ear: "Southwest wall weak point in their sync net. You can isolate them."
Ash triggered a decoy flare and retreated into the ruins of a collapsed side corridor. One Reaper chased. Isolated.
He activated his suit's shock tendrils experimental tech he hadn't even fully tested and wrapped the Reaper in arcs of kinetic disruption. The unit spasmed, trying to reboot mid-motion.
Ash didn't give it time.
He dragged it close and rammed his blade through its helmet.
It took twenty minutes of brutal, silent fighting.
When it ended, five Reapers lay dismantled in a circle around the bunker. Ash stood at the center, armor scorched, suit hissing steam.
Kira was already pulling the feeds. "They were broadcasting. Live. Someone was watching."
"Corpo?" Ash asked.
"No tags. But... it felt personal."
Ash didn't respond. He looked at the wreckage. He wasn't just a risk anymore. He was a threat.
And threats don't get ignored.
The next day, Rogue sent a private ping.
"They tried to erase you," she said. "Didn't work. Which means now you've got eyes on you from people who don't play games."
"Let them watch," Ash said.
"You're not ready," Rogue replied. "But if you want to survive what comes next, you will be."
She sent new coordinates. A contact. Not a job this time an opportunity.
Ash watched the dead Reapers get hauled away by scavvers, armor stripped, secrets gone.
The forge burned hotter now.
And the fire was spreading.