Chapter 12 - Rafael
Glass Alley.
The name shines in jagged letters above Rafael in a narrow passageway between two abandoned warehouses. Unlike the usual neon, this sign is made from real glass shards, creating a kaleidoscope on the cracked pavement from the setting sun.
Below the sign, an iron fence blocks the entrance where an old man with a long, braided beard leans against the bars. He glances up from a holopad when Rafael and Pixie draw close enough, eyeing the weapons for only a second.
“Still open?” Pixie asks at his side.
The man nods and holds out his holopad. “Scan your wristlinks to enter.”
Rafael hesitates, and as if reading his mind, Pixie says, “Don’t worry. Coda probably installed extra security the minute you showed up.”
He’s not sure what she means, but the ease in her voice surprises him. She’s been warmer lately since Rafael agreed to stay.
After scanning both of their wristlinks, the man unlocks the gate and moves aside.
As the iron bars swing wide, Rafael leans in to whisper, “It’s really okay to be out here this late?” Unlike his trip to the marketplace yesterday or today’s lunch in the park, they need to be back in the med bay in only a few hours, his fourth shift since he was taken from Midtown.
Pixie laughs. “It’s fine. We have enough time,” she claims, but even with her words, unease crawls down his spine as he peers into the alleyway.
Beyond the gate, darkness swallows the path ahead. A canopy of metal and tarp blocks any glimpse of the sky, with only a thin strip of lights across the ground, enough to see but not enough to fear.
“This is…the Glass Alley?” Rafael asks. He’s already questioning why he ever trusted Kane’s recommendation, a man he barely knows. But art is something he’s always wanted to explore more. If only Lihan and his friends in Midtown felt the same.
She nods. “Yep. The owner built this whole installation himself. No megacorp funding. No Premiere Corp. All hard work, metal, glass, lights, and a bit of tech.” Pixie crosses her arms. “As an amateur sign maker myself, I’ve been here about four or five times, just to study it.”
Art, music, clubs, sports—any entertainment outside the Premiere Club is almost unheard of. But after seeing the marketplace, Rafael is starting to understand that Shreveport—maybe the entire Outer Districts—operates by its own rules.
“So…what kind of place is this? Does it have a theme?” he asks.
Her grin widens. “I’ll let you figure that out yourself.” With a playful push against his back, Pixie nudges him through the gate.
Rafael’s heart skips a beat. “Wait…you’re not coming?” Why did she scan her wristlink then? Perhaps for security access?
“It’s okay. I’ll meet you at the other end. I promise. No one’s going to hurt you in there.”
Trust shouldn’t come so easily—not with a stranger wielding two deadly weapons. Yet Rafael somehow believes her. Neither Kane nor anyone in his gang has hurt him so far.
As Pixie slips through the entrance, he advances inside, following the faint line ahead.
Murmurs and shifting silhouettes hint at others inside, and the hairs on his arms rise. This might be the first time he’s truly been alone in Shreveport.
One, two, three.
He counts his paces forward.
At five, a burst erupts from his right.
Rafael freezes.
Seconds stretch into what feels like hours.
When the flash doesn’t come again, he exhales and carries on, only for the strobe to pulse once more. This time, he whips around to discover the source: a massive mirror made of cracked fragments in the shape of a star.
“Beautiful,” Rafael whispers. He’s seen pieces like this on V-link, but nothing compares to seeing art like this in person. As his gaze traces the edges, the glass flickers.
Rafael’s own face stares back at him. Not as a reflection, but as a holo video. He’s in his VitaCorp scrubs, standing in an operating theater next to a doctor. The temperature around him seems to drop. How did they get this footage?
Before he can process this, his professor from nursing school enters the frame. What is she doing here? They never worked together at the hospital.
Yet here she is, watching Rafael assist the physician with a prideful smile, something he desperately wanted but never earned. During their actual classes, his hands trembled so badly that she recommended more training.
But if this isn’t a memory, what is it? And how does this display have access?
The holographic image blinks out. His fingers twitch.
Faint footsteps echo deeper inside, pulling his focus ahead. A tall silhouette stands before another broken screen, but the feed cuts to black before any details come into focus.
He hesitates until curiosity pulls him in. A few paces later, something glints in his periphery—glass arranged into a tree with a thick trunk and sprawling branches. As Rafael gets closer, the display hums on.
It’s Rafael again. But this time, Maria sits next to him on the beach.
They’re in swimsuits, watching the sun bleed into the ocean. His brow tightens. The only swimming they’d ever done was in the dingy pool behind their apartment—and even that was rare. There isn’t a real beach anywhere near Nova City.
The image warps, and suddenly he and Maria are in a crowd, surrounded by cheering fans as her favorite band plays on stage.
But how is this possible? They never went to a concert together, and Vex broke up centuries before Rafael and his sister were even born.
His breath catches, and it hits him.
These aren’t memories. They’re from V-link sessions.
The beach trip Rafael created after finding his boyfriend with the neighbor across the hall.
The concert simulation he bought for Maria’s last birthday, so she could finally see her dream band.
And the session of him with his professor was something Rafael created as a private indulgence after graduating.
And somehow, they’re here, projected in an alley in the Outer Districts.
His stomach drops. How did someone access his V-link account? Rafael glances down at his wristlink. The man outside scanned the device before letting him in. Could that be the connection? Coda and others here have already shown what they’re capable of.
What about the other visitors? Are they all seeing this, too? Heat creeps up Rafael’s neck. The projections must stop once he leaves, right? He’s not sure, but slipping out seems like the safest option now.
He hurries down the lit path, passing more installations. None are worth stopping for. His breath quickens as he picks up the pace. One piece—glass shaped into a heart—crackles when he gets close. Rafael freezes.
A younger Kane stands in a memorial garden, armor too big on his frame, with fewer weapons on his back.
Ivy crawls over brick walls behind him, and at the center, beneath a flowering tree, rest two stone heads.
Holograms float above them of a bald man with an auburn beard and a fair-skinned woman with long hair.
Kane kneels, setting a few flowers at their base. There’s no sound, but his lips move.
Rafael’s chest tightens. Whoever this couple is clearly mattered to Kane. Enough to hold a private ritual on V-link.
The display sputters to static, and only then does he notice a figure nearby. Rafael staggers back, heel catching on a crack. He throws out an arm for balance. A stronger one catches him first, closing around his waist. His neck cranes to look up.
Kane’s face fills his vision. Auburn hair frames a freckled jaw, catching the light from below, while gold flecks shimmer in his green eyes. Even now, Rafael can’t deny that Kane is handsome, but his heart stutters at the thought.
It’s just proximity, that’s all. They’ve never been this close before. And noticing someone’s looks doesn’t mean anything, the same way it doesn’t with that rude doctor on Lian’s floor.
Though when their eyes meet, something flashes across Kane’s expression. Too quick to name, but not fast enough to miss.
Voices behind them cut in. The arm holding Rafael upright steadies him then eases away.
“Hey!”
Kane aims a beam from his wristlink ahead. Three young boys freeze in place. Dressed in gear similar to Kane and his gang, they push an HOV bike through the dark space.
“Baron,” the pale boy speaks first. “I’m sorry to interrupt. We were just—”
The taller one clears his throat and steps in. “Sir, the HOV broke down nearby, and it was faster to bring it through the alley, so we thought—”
A chrome hand lifts. “Enough!” Kane growls before launching into a reprimand about their recklessness. Rafael tries to listen, but the words blur. His mind goes back to the heat of Kane’s hand at his waist, the shade of his eyes.
It was just adrenaline, proximity. Nothing more.
He forces his attention back on Kane, no longer shouting at the kids but frowning at him. Then Kane’s shoulders ease as his focus shifts back to the boys.
“Just turn the HOV around. Get it out of here. And don’t break anything. Then call Wren—have her team handle the pickup. Understand?” There’s steel in Kane’s command, softened with a hint of restraint.
The boys exchange a look. Kane’s hand curls at his side. “Go.” They startle before scrambling with the HOV toward the exit.
“Thank you, sir!” the taller boy calls back.
Once they’re out of the alley, Kane shuts off his wristlink light and turns to Rafael. “You should head back. Need to get ready for tonight’s shift.”
Rafael nods. “Of course.” This was only supposed to be a short break, after all. He continues down the lit path, only to find Kane matching his stride. Except he doesn’t say anything.
A part of him wondered if they would cross paths again today. But not in the Glass Alley, hours before nightfall.
Clearly, Pixie didn’t know Kane would be here. And after the awkward near fall, and what Rafael saw in the mirror, maybe Kane didn’t expect him either. That had to be a private V-link session, too.
They continue walking in silence, but eventually, Rafael tries to break the tension. “By the way…I liked this place. Thanks for the recommendation.”
Kane’s head swings around. In the darkness, his expression is hard to see, but there’s a bite in his tone when he asks, “Why are you here alone?”
A nervous laugh escapes him. “Uh…I’m not exactly. Pixie is waiting for me at the exit. Said I need to experience this on my own.”
“Next time, stick by her side,” Kane snaps, turning away.
Next time.
Is Rafael sticking around longer than expected? He’s been trying not to press, trying to stay useful, to adapt. But his stomach turns at the uncertainty, twisting harder until it’s impossible to ignore.
“About that.” Rafael forces a casual tone. “Any word on when the doctor might be coming?”
As the exit comes into view, there’s enough light to catch the tension in Kane’s jaw. “Not yet.”
Any hope Rafael’s been holding onto crumbles. Kane meets his gaze, expression softening this time. “But soon. I promise.”
The words shouldn’t touch him so much. Kane can technically let him go, but his chest grows warm at the sentiment.
A nod is all Rafael offers, peering at Pixie near the exit, chatting with the man from earlier. She looks up, her expression shifting as she spots them. Her feet lift, breaking into a jog toward them.
Before she can reach them, Kane’s wristlink buzzes. He glances down, jaw tightening. “I have to go. Head back to the med bay with Pixie.”
And just like that, he’s gone, boots echoing down the sidewalk.
Rafael doesn’t look away until Pixie’s voice echoes from behind.
“Was that Baron? What was he doing here?”
Rafael doesn’t answer right away. Their moment from earlier replays again in his mind. And then what Rafael glimpsed in the mirror.
“I’m not sure,” Rafael says at last.
He tells himself it doesn’t matter. But the crack he saw here lingers.