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Two days later, the questions arrived in the form of a heavy coat and polished boots. The man who walked through the door didn't look like a client. He looked like a problem.

The neon sign above the repair shop didn’t buzz or flicker; it hummed a low, perfect C-minor chord. It was the only thing in the district that didn't need fixing. kkaceyy

"Run, Kay," Jax said, his hand drifting to the heavy wrench on his belt. Two days later, the questions arrived in the

Kkaceyy stiffened. She moved to hide behind a stack of hydro-spanners, but Jax stepped forward, blocking the man’s line of sight. The neon sign above the repair shop didn’t

The Keeper’s eyes locked onto Kkaceyy. "We have records of a minor glitch in the city’s mainframe three minutes ago. A localized miracle. A repair job that shouldn't be possible with human tools. You have the Touch, girl. The Council requires your... integration."

But Jax was right. In the Lower Wards, being special was dangerous.

The Grid-Keeper didn’t blink. He raised a scanner. It beeped—a high-pitched, frantic sound that matched the rhythm of Kkaceyy’s own racing heart.