Chapter 5 - Rafael
Unexpected barely describes Rafael’s night.
He was kidnapped off the streets, dragged into the slums, threatened at gunpoint, all before being forced to save a woman’s life.
And the chaos isn’t over. Barely minutes after being told he’s not leaving, Rafael’s ushered through a back door of the bar and led down a set of stairs.
His surroundings are dark, filled with the sounds of water dripping nearby and the hum of machinery in the walls. Whether they’re in a basement, tunnel, or somewhere else isn’t clear. Brick walls close in along a narrow path, lit only by a faint strip of green light along the floor.
He glances at his wristlink. The interface is black—dead—something Rafael’s never seen before. VitaCorp tech is supposed to work anywhere in the city. His stomach twists, though the sight in front of him isn’t much better.
Walking ahead, the tall, auburn-haired man—Baron—carries the injured woman from the bar in his arms. Even from behind, his stance is imposing, more so with the rifle slung across his back.
Still, Rafael has the urge to check on the patient, but his survival instincts win out.
At least upstairs, he was surrounded by others.
Here, it’s just the two of them, going who knows where.
Their pace slows in front of a metal door marked with a neon plus sign above it. Baron shifts Echo in his arms, scanning a security panel on the wall with his free hand. “This is where you’ll patch her up,” he says.
Rafael only nods. Refusal isn’t an option here.
The door hisses open, and he follows Baron inside what appears to be a medical bay—though nothing like what Rafael imagined a street gang’s would be.
A modern operating area occupies one side of the room, partially hidden by a sliding partition, while the other side houses a recovery corner with a bed and vidscreen.
Along the walls, counters hold a mix of advanced medical tools and equipment, all stamped with VitaCorp’s insignia.
Clearly, whoever runs this place knows what’s essential and how to get it.
“Our med bay,” Baron declares. “I’m sure it looks like some bad historical session on V-link compared to what you have at VitaCorp, but everything you need should be here.” He lowers Echo onto the table, with surprising gentleness for someone who had just held a gun to Rafael’s chest.
As Baron steps aside, Rafael moves in. Muscle memory takes over as he hooks Echo up to an assortment of machines: a BioSync Monitor, VitaFlow Infuser, NeuroPulse Reader, and a heavily modified NanoStat Regulator.
The rhythm is steadying, but when he reaches the last connection, his hands falter at the strange configuration of wires.
A deep, sharp voice snaps his gaze up. “Words, Rafael. I need words. What’s wrong?”
“I…” A knot tightens in Rafael’s gut.
Baron’s frown deepens. “This silent act?” He gestures between them. “This stops now. I need to know what’s going on in that head of yours. If something’s off with the equipment, with Echo, with you—you speak up. Got it?”
“Y…yes,” he stammers, caught off guard by being asked rather than ordered. “This isn’t a standard neural lace.”
“We don’t exactly have access to top-shelf tech down here,” Baron explains. “But we have our ways…” His expression eases briefly. “Had to learn to take care of our own. Corps made it clear a long time ago they don’t give a damn about us.” He turns back to Rafael. “Just do with it what you can.”
Rafael finishes setting up the equipment, acutely aware of Baron’s attention on him. Every movement feels weighted under that intense stare. But he forces himself to focus on Echo, treating her like any other patient despite the circumstances.
“Missing anything?”
He startles, nearly dropping the scanner at Baron’s question. “N-no,” he manages. “I think I have everything.”
“Good, you’ll stay until Echo wakes up.”
His heart sinks. That means he’s staying here—in the slums, guarded by armed gangsters, responsible for a patient he hardly knows. For who knows how long.
Baron gestures at a security panel on the wall. “Press the red button when she shows signs of recovery. Someone will—”
A rhythmic beeping echoes off the walls. Rafael spins around to view the patient’s monitors, all pulsing with signs of improvement.
Baron’s voice over his shoulder comes a second later. “What’s happening to her?”
“Her vitals shifted.” Rafael slips into familiar medical care. “She’s showing signs of—”
“Kane…” A groan interrupts him.
He turns to discover Echo awake on the bed, blinking slowly. Baron is at her side in an instant, and Rafael moves to check her monitors.
“Echo?” Baron says her name softly, more than he thought capable of the man threatening his life hours ago.
She doesn’t respond immediately. Echo’s mismatched eyes—one dark brown, the other an unnatural red—sweep around the room while bioluminescent threads in her long, dark hair pulse with each breath.
Eventually, a smile tugs at her lips as she drawls, “I know I ain’t dead yet…cause you’re definitely not in my heaven, Kane.”
Kane. Is that his real name? Not Baron? What about the others? Is Echo a nickname, too?
“If I’m in your heaven, then I must be in hell,” Baron—Kane teases, tone light for the first time since they’ve met.
Echo snorts and points a chrome thumb at him. “Who’s the kid? Pulaski finally hire an assistant?”
Kane’s frown returns. “He’s gone. Iced out.”
“Goddamn Natural Order,” Echo mutters.
A chill runs down Rafael’s spine. He doesn’t know who or what Natural Order is, but the implication is clear. Their previous medic is gone, not by choice.
“We lose anyone else?” Echo sighs.
Kane nods, and Rafael’s stomach twists. These people may be his captors, but they’re still human, grieving for others.
“Move some credits around for their families,” Kane orders. “Pulaski’s husband gets his end-of-year pay. Not nearly enough, but all we can manage.”
“Got it, boss man. Have Coda send me their contacts.” She taps her wristlink. “What about civilians?”
Civilians? Rafael blinks. Were innocent people at risk during whatever happened?
“No one saw fire in the residential zone. Those zealots didn’t breach any farther than the border.”
Relief floods Rafael, even though he doesn’t understand all the details. Echo merely nods, treating the answer as standard protocol.
Before she can respond, the door slides open with a beep.
His original kidnapper steps inside, white hair disheveled and armor askew. “You’re alive?” she breathes, rushing over to Echo.
A laugh escapes Echo. “Of course. You still owe me credits for Antonius’s win on Wednesday, remember? Gotta collect.”
Wren’s lips twitch, almost smiling. “No!” she argues. “You said he’d win in the first match! He didn’t win until the second—”
“Wren.” Kane’s command snaps through the room, making Rafael almost jump. “Visiting hours are over. Hand off the patrol switch and prepare for tomorrow.”
Her shoulders slump. “Yes, sir.” As Wren turns to leave, she catches Rafael’s eye and gives him a small nod.
Rafael isn’t sure what to make of the gesture. This is the same woman who dragged him here at gunpoint. Still, he stays quiet while she slips out, muttering into her commlink.
Echo leans forward the moment she’s gone. “Seriously, doc. Thanks for the patch-up job. Guess I owe you one, huh?”
The warmth in her tone catches him off guard. He shouldn’t care what she feels. Rafael didn’t have a choice in treating her. Then again, this is more appreciation than he’s got from patients at work in months.
“I…” He clears his throat.
“He’s no doctor,” Kane cuts in.
“What?” She blinks at them. “You’re kidding. Who is he then?”
Kane scoffs. “A nurse from Midtown. We wouldn’t waste our time on anyone else.”
“A nurse?” Echo shakes her head. “VitaCorp? Wow, we must be scraping the bottom of the barrel here.” Her hand twists, activating her wristlink. “Did Coda check my contacts? I’d recommend Dr. Hayashi. She’s been looking for an excuse to leave the Heights for months.”
Hayashi. The name doesn’t register, but Rafael grasps the implication. Another doctor will replace him. His heart lifts at the thought of freedom, of leaving this all behind.
“Yes. But she won’t be here for a few more days,” Kane declares.
Rafael’s stomach drops. Days, not hours. His grip tightens on the bed’s railing. What does that mean for him?
“So he’s…” Echo trails off.
Kane doesn’t answer her. Instead, he pivots to Rafael. “Thank you for tending to Echo.”
More acknowledgment. From a man who threatened his life hours ago, no less. Rafael nods stiffly, unsure how else to respond.
“You’ll be staying here until further notice,” Kane says.
Each word falls like a hammer. He’s staying here. Cut off from his family, his job, his apartment—everything that made up his life in Midtown.
A protest rises in his throat. Going along with Lian and his friends at the club is one thing, but this is his freedom they’re talking about. Yet when Rafael opens his mouth, the gun on Kane’s back stops anything from coming out.
His gaze flicks up to Kane, and for a heartbeat, something flickers in those green eyes. But the emotion vanishes, leaving Kane’s expression cold and unreadable once more.
“Get Echo ready for discharge,” Kane orders, moving toward the exit. “Then I’ll show you where you’re staying.”
Rafael’s pulse hammers in his ears, but he moves on autopilot, removing the tubes and wires from Echo.
Echo tries to make conversation, asking about follow-up care and what symptoms to watch for. He keeps his responses clipped and professional. The sooner he finishes this, the sooner he can process whatever comes next.
A few minutes later, they step out of the medical bay into the same dark corridor as before. Echo gives a small wave before disappearing down the corridor, while Kane gestures for Rafael to follow him in the opposite direction.
They reach a narrow spiral staircase, and he climbs behind Kane, legs shaking with each step.
At the top, Kane stops at a reinforced metal door and presses his palm to a glowing security panel.
When the lock disengages, Rafael braces for a cell, mind filled with tales on V-link of gangsters taking people hostage in the slums.
What waits beyond is strange. A simple studio, not unlike his apartment in Midtown, only with furniture and appliances from the late 2010s. He steps inside, moving through the living room toward the bed along the far wall.
Nothing feels personal here. No holographic photos on the walls, no signs of the occupant’s life at all.
Only the worn yet outdated kitchen console hints that someone once lived here.
Stopping at the large window screen, he reaches for the control panel, hoping for a glimpse outside.
At his touch, the image flickers to black.
Rafael startles, spinning around when Kane clears his throat from across the studio.
“Get some rest,” Kane says. “You’ll be back in the med bay tomorrow.” He shrugs. “And don’t worry about VitaCorp.”
Rafael’s breath catches. That’s right. They’ll wonder what happens when he doesn’t show up tomorrow.
“Your profile shows you’re on a temporary assignment through their shiny new VitaCorp Cares Initiative downtown. Not exactly anything but code and a logo. Though they probably won’t investigate a random nurse.”
His eyes widen. They can manipulate VitaCorp’s own systems that easily?
“But if anyone does dig deeper, Coda patched it.” A smirk tugs at Kane’s lips. “Your wristlink now logs this detour as a trip to their downtown administrative building, a maze of a building with enough security gaps to hide an army.”
He glances at the band on his wrist, stomach twisting. VitaCorp issued his when he started, same as every employee. Rafael knew they tracked his hours, possibly his movements around campus. Not every step he took. Not all the time.
Kane’s tone hardens as he goes on. “As for your friend Lian…Coda’s program combed through your chats, created an AI that sounds like you.
Sent her a note about being pulled for the initiative.
Told her you’ll be temporarily staying there in staff lodging and you’d be in touch once things settle down. ”
The casual way he says her name makes Rafael’s chest clench. They know everything. Rumors on V-link say street gangs have techies, but it sounds like they could rival VitaCorp.
“No one else has access through this door.” Kane nods behind him. “Not even the lieutenants. You’ll be safe here.”
Safe. The word sounds strange coming from this man. Yet Kane also helped treat Echo, treated her gently, and provided this secure room without being asked.
The contradictions don’t fit the V-link stories about gang leaders. Those painted simple monsters, not someone like him.
But seeing a human face behind the chrome doesn’t make this right.
Silence fills the room after Kane leaves.
Rafael sinks onto the edge of the bed, staring at his dead wristlink. He tries to summon the hope that VitaCorp will notice his absence, that Lian or anyone talking to the AI-version of him will catch the lie.
But Kane’s easy confidence in this Coda suggests otherwise.
Maybe no one’s coming. Maybe this is how he’ll spend the night. Not catching up on sleep or heading out with Lian to another club.
And who knows what Rafael will be doing here tomorrow? Certainly not visiting Mrs. Chen for that post-op he was worried about or finally returning Maria’s message.
Tears threaten Rafael’s eyes, but he blinks them back. Not breaking down might be his only victory today. But how long can anyone stay composed when their whole world has been turned upside down?