He reached into his trench coat, but instead of pulling his pulse-pistol, he withdrew a small, jagged bypass chip. He slammed it into the primary terminal. The screens flickered, then turned a steady, calm blue. "What did you do?" Jax whispered.

Harley reached the heavy pressurized door of the warehouse. He didn't knock. He tapped a sequence into his wrist-comm, sending a surge through the lock’s mag-seal. The door hissed open, revealing a cavernous room glowing with the sickly green light of overclocked servers.

Harley walked toward him, his metal hand glinting under the strobing lights. "The Syndicate doesn't do payment plans. They do shut-offs."

A mission involving a high-stakes heist in the Upper Spires.

Harley stopped at the door, the neon light of Energie 1 reflecting in his synthetic iris. "Because sometimes the dark is the only place where things actually get done."