TB’s Journal – June 6, 2097: The Obelisk

 

June 6 (Continued)

Zara and I didn’t waste time after leaving the Rift. Heading straight back to base would’ve raised eyebrows. So, we drove to the next site on her list: the Monolith. Another curiosity of the Lost Continent, and well outside the green zones where it’s safe to travel.

The drive was long, cutting through the rolling jungle hills. We eventually had to leave the vehicle behind—the terrain had shifted again, as it does in this damn place. It’s all part of the “Emerging” phenomenon. So we hoofed it the rest of the way.

We weren’t alone out there. As we approached a riverbank, we spotted them: lizard people. Humanoids that looked eerily like Dr. Velasquez. They were clearly sentient, and their riverside village wasn’t in any of the island’s records. Officially, there’s no mention of villages or sentient species living here. I wasn’t eager to tangle with these creatures, especially since we were way off the map. We decided to sneak around them, keeping to the trees until we could make it to the Monolith.

And there it was—standing tall and pristine in a clearing. It looked bizarrely out of place, like it didn’t belong to this world at all. The obelisk was striking, capped with a diamond-like stone that glittered with magical energy. The entire structure didn’t match the iconography of the other ruins we’d seen. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it felt almost… Greek? Maybe Egyptian? It raised the unsettling thought—what if this place isn’t just the origin of the Aztec gods, but of all peoples? Far-fetched, sure, but nothing feels impossible here.

The Monolith wasn’t alone either. It was surrounded by an intricate maze-like pattern carved into the ground, stretching out in a hundred-meter radius around the base. No breaks in the pattern, no visible entrances, but the maze itself shifted. Slowly, subtly. The layout didn’t stay the same for more than a few moments at a time. I took one look at it and decided—no one goes near that thing. Too risky. Probably some ancient security mechanism. One wrong step, and we could trigger who knows what.

Unfortunately, the lizard-people spotted us before we could get much more intel. Slag’s quick thinking (and quicker trigger finger) sent them scattering with a few warning shots. We weren’t sticking around to find out if they’d return with more friends. Time to head back.

On the way back to base, I checked my feeds. The usual: not much on Astrid Nygård—Wizkid’s little snoop program was still just getting started. It was an experiment more than anything, a test of the reworked spy code we stole from Thorne. Petty, maybe, but Wiz wanted to see what it could do. Astrid just happened to be the unlucky target.

By the time we got back to base, it was dark. The other groups had already returned, prepping for a night out under the stars. Halo, of course, had decided she wanted to camp under the open sky. Base security wasn’t thrilled. Neither was management. But when Halo wants something, she gets it—and everyone ends up liking it despite their misgivings.

Speaking of hacking, Eclipse had uncovered something interesting. She’d hit paydirt: Dr. Morales had been sending data into the ocean. He was using some sort of special device that masked the transmissions as ambient ocean noise. Clever. Very clever. But whatever he was contacting out there… well, we hadn’t seen the return signal yet. Something was out there, though. Listening. Who? We're not 100% sure, but the bet is the TCA. So that means they have a base nearby. Or a sub. Or both.

Zara wasn’t happy, but she didn’t overreact. Morales could still be useful, and she wasn’t ready to burn that bridge just yet. Vanya and I had a “conversation” with him. By “conversation,” I mean we scared him so badly he’ll have waking nightmares about us until well after he's dead. Zara decided to let him live for now, but we've got him hooked good.

TB’s Journal – June 6, 2097: The Great Rift

June 6

I woke up in sickbay around 10 AM, groggy and disoriented after being out for nearly 12 hours. I was attended by Dr. Mara Tuvana, Zara’s spy at the base. She explained she wasn’t really that kind of doctor. Still, when the base’s military medic freaked out over my skin starting to turn into scales, they called her. And for good reason.

Turns out that blast from the stone in Velasquez’s lab did more than just knock me out—it fused the dragon scale I found at PanGen with my flesh, accelerating the transformation Vanya told me is inevitable. 

I convinced Mara (and the poor medic) that this was just a natural effect of being a physical adept. Sort of true. Mostly not. Either way, it worked—for now. I wasn’t keen on this becoming common knowledge. Mara didn’t push the issue. She had her own secrets to keep. And the medic looked like he was ready to worship the ground I walk on. Maybe useful for later.

Vanya was waiting for me when I finally got out of sickbay. She should’ve been with Halo, but I wasn’t about to chew her out for it. We both know where her loyalties lie—and it's not with Halo. This is probably as close to affection as Vanya gets.

The models had already left on their expeditions, so we split up. Vanya headed after Halo, while I joined Zara and Slag in their ATV, along with two Aztech guards and a driver. We set off into the unknown—specifically, toward a place Zara was keen on visiting.

During the ride, I had time to think over what Zara had confided in me the day before. She’s working with a minority faction within Aztechnology. They’re opposed to “the majority,” a group she refused to name. The base, she revealed, was a cover for uncovering the true nature of the continent. It wasn’t just any lost land—it was Chicomoztoc, the fabled “land of seven caves,” the supposed origin of the Aztec and other peoples.

Zara’s faction believes “the majority” is looking to find the Aztec gods here and “bring them back.” Her faction? Not so much. They think that resurrecting those ancient gods would be a disaster for the company—and for the world. She’s here to find out if those gods really are waiting to be awoken. If they are, we’re supposed to do something about it. What, exactly, is still up for debate. There’s so much we don’t know, and planning for the unknown is a fool’s game.

Our destination for the day was one of Zara’s “sites of interest”—the Great Rift. It’s a magical tear in the fabric of reality, located in a savannah-like area some distance from camp. As we got closer, we saw a stone stairway seemingly leading from our reality into the rift itself. All of our tech devices started going haywire, so we had the ATV pull back while Zara and I continued on foot.

Commlinks, guns—anything electronic—died within moments. The rift’s magical interference was off the charts. This was the same place where #cutelizard had found the stone that knocked me out yesterday. And now Zara and I were walking straight into it.

The stairway climbed forever toward a golden orb radiating magic. All around us, stars hung in the sky, but the constellations resembled nothing I’d ever seen. It felt like we’d stepped out of time. After what seemed like half an hour, we reached a landing. There, coiled like a serpent, sat a figure—half man, half snake—meditating.

He introduced himself as Akiro, an ancient being from a time before the 5th World. As we talked, he revealed that he’d been expecting someone to come for him. What he didn’t expect was how much time had passed. When I told him this was the 6th World and that millions of years had passed, his shock was palpable.

Akiro was… difficult to read. He named Zara “First Priestess Huitzillin, The Sun-Lord of the War Path” (or something like that). Me? I got the honor of being named her guardian. The alternative, apparently, was naming Zara as some kind of prostitute in the cosmic order of things. We accepted the titles without much fuss.

Then Akiro dropped the bombshell: he wanted us to recover his lost stone. The very stone that had nearly killed me. Why? So he could wake the Sun-god from his slumber.

We got the hell out of there. Neither of us had any intention of returning that stone or waking any gods—ancient or otherwise. This place, Chicomoztoc, had roots in Mesoamerican mythology, but it was clear that the gods Akiro spoke of were not the same as the ones worshipped in Aztlan today. Something much older was at play here.

We made our way back to the ATV, which had retreated to a safe distance. I called Fuzzy and had him bring the Cobra over with fresh commlinks and guns. We weren’t going back into that rift without a plan—and some serious backup.

TB’s Journal – June 5, 2097: The Lost Continent

 

June 5

For those who actually read the security brief, the message was clear: stick to the paths, don’t wander into non-green areas, and if you lose Matrix contact, retreat immediately. Simple enough in theory, though with the list of “phenomena and creatures to avoid” running longer than a bad night’s drink tab, I had my doubts about everyone paying attention to it.

We had our first in-depth briefing from Dr. Seraphina “Sera” Velasquez, the base’s semi-reptilian chief scientist with Tskrang-like ancestry. The crew—especially Kate—had already made her trending online with the hashtag #lowkeycutelizard<3. Velasquez’s metatype might not be one-of-a-kind, but it’s rare enough in 2097 to draw some serious attention.

Her main job today was briefing us on the Lost Continent’s artifacts. It’s all part of a VR stunt: models were set to “find” planted relics as part of their expeditions. Some obsidian tools, gold trinkets, stone figures—the usual ancient-world detritus. But Velasquez wasn’t just some showy academic. She explained a bit more about the island, its creatures, and the deeper mystery of how the land doesn’t just rise from the waves—it emerges from the Astral Plane through an unknown, deeply magical process.

As I listened, something clicked into place. The strange artifacts I’d come across in Seattle—they had to come from this place. The obsidian blade I’d seen there, the strange stone carvings—it all pointed back to this Lost Continent.

With the gimmick set, the VR models split into five groups to maximize ratings (and let Zara get her “special investigation” rolling without too much attention). Halo, Zara, Kate, Serj, and Luna each had their own armored ATV, rigged with everything they needed for their adventures. Halo’s personal security detail, Vanya and Blink, were with her, of course. I rode with her, too. Meanwhile, Fuzzy was on overwatch in a SunTalon Cobra, Tag and the Shiawase kid in the Quetzalcoatl gunship on QRA, ready to step in if things went sideways. The gunship has special magic shielding and astral sensors—I don't think you can buy that at Stuffer Shack.

The island itself was like something out of a dream—a lost tropical paradise from before times, untouched by the world and teeming with strange creatures. Most of them kept their distance, though there was always that sense that something far stranger lurked beneath the surface.

Of note for Halo’s group? We hit a series of enchanted locations. First, a waterfall where she plucked mana stones right from the waters. Then, a serene grove that literally expanded before our eyes, new land emerging as if growing from the Astral Plane itself, while tree spirits joined Halo in song. And finally, the weeping cliffs—a cascade of waterfalls and pools where emotions were cranked to 11. Most people felt elated, but when Vanya started to get that “I’ll kill you all” look, we had to send her back to the car.

The general public may not care much about Halo’s expeditions, but #lostcontinent was trending hard. The world wanted to see this magical place, and revenue was skyrocketing. Management was more than pleased. It was clear we needed to spend more time with #lowkeycutelizard—this whole Lost Continent angle was proving better than anyone expected.

We returned to base after dark, the crew tired but energized by the day’s discoveries. We decided to pay Dr. Velasquez a visit in the Arcane Lab. That’s when things took a turn.

While checking out a glowing stone artifact, I made the mistake of touching it. I barely had time to register the flash of energy before it flung me across the room. Everything went black.

TB’s Journal – June 4, 2097: The Lost Continent

 

June 4 (Night)

After landing, our group of 24—comprised of Halo’s entourage, support staff, and the security team—was greeted by a trio of individuals representing Aztechnology’s tight grip on the Lost Continent. First up was Dr. Morales, an elf who is clearly not native to Fiji despite his citizenship, and the base manager who had a certain air of detached professionalism about him. Then there was Captain Saavedra, a no-nonsense Aztlan spec ops officer masquerading as “Fijian Security Liaison.” The guy is sharp, and we’re clearly on the same page—either we actually get along, or we’re both just damn good at playing our roles. Time will tell.

Finally, Tasi Naivalu, the base’s Quartermaster, greeted us. He’s the only one who actually looks Fijian, and I get the feeling he’s more genuine than the others. At least, he’s the one supplying the food and booze, so that’s a point in his favor.

From the moment we disembarked, the base was quickly overrun with VR models, their staff, and our entire team trying to settle in. It didn’t take long for the chaos to start as these people made a nuisance of themselves in almost every possible way. Zara, ever the pro, slipped into “boss mode,” making sure everything was running as smoothly as it could, but the rest? Well, let’s just say a bunch of fashionistas and tech junkies running around a military-science installation wasn’t exactly part of the usual operating procedure here.

Aside from a few restricted zones and some locked-off equipment, we had access to most of the base, which is generous by Aztech standards. There’s something about this place that feels off though. It’s too clean, too controlled—like we’re walking around the surface of something much, much deeper.

By midnight, the whole group was dead on their feet. Most headed off to the bunk areas to crash. Eclipse, however, had different orders. I tasked her with poking around the base, trying to see what dirt we could dig up. If she gets caught, it’s my job to spin it into a legitimate security concern. Let’s hope she doesn’t get herself into too much trouble this early on.

We quickly realized that Matrix connectivity out here is spotty at best. It works fine near the base, but farther out, it gets unreliable. That’s not going to stop the VR models from doing their thing, though. They went live for a stream, hoping to drum up excitement from their followers, but it didn’t hit the mark. Halo’s fans are here for the music, not the “Look at me, I’m in a secret base” vibe the models are selling.

Not exactly the kind of reception we wanted for the first night, but then again, this place isn’t exactly thrilling. It’s all quiet now, but there’s something simmering under the surface. I can feel it.

Tomorrow, the real fun starts.

Seattle NewsNet Breaking News: June 4, 2097 - Catastrophe in the Jovian System

Renraku Research Outpost on Ganymede Obliterated in Rogue Thai Attack

Just in from the Jovian system, reports confirm that a rogue Thai ASV (Autonomous Space Vessel) has launched a devastating orbital kinetic strike on Renraku’s premier research outpost on Ganymede. The base is believed to be a total loss, with early estimates pointing to hundreds of casualties and damages running into the billions of nuyen. This attack represents one of the most catastrophic incidents in space since the early days of corporate expansion beyond Earth's orbit.

Renraku, one of the megacorporations most invested in space development, has not yet issued an official statement. However, sources within the company confirm that critical data and top-tier research were ongoing at the facility when the strikes occurred. Space assets from multiple governments and corporations are now being mobilized to locate and neutralize the rogue ASV, but until it is contained, the situation in the Jovian system remains extremely volatile.

The attack has thrown the entire region into chaos, and speculation on the Matrix is running wild. How could a Thai ASV, long thought accounted for after Thailand’s withdrawal from the Trans-Pacific Cybersocialist Alliance (TCA), still be operational? Theories abound, with some suggesting that hidden stockpiles of spacefaring weaponry were never decommissioned. Others claim this is part of a broader conspiracy tied to the complex geopolitical maneuverings of the TCA, Renraku, or even Aztlan.

Conspiracy theorists are having a field day, throwing out connections to secret war programs, corporate backstabbing, and shadowy factions still fighting old battles from the Indochina War. Whatever the truth, one thing is certain: the conflict in space just took a terrifying and unexpected turn.

TB’s Journal – May 27 to June 4, 2097: The Lost Continent

June 4

We landed in Fiji, the tropical jewel of the Pacific, now a beacon of Aztechnology’s growing influence. The wealth and development here are hard to miss—Aztlan’s fingerprints are all over it. From the air, it’s clear that this isn’t some forgotten backwater anymore. The people might still call it paradise, but everything we saw said "corporate empire" instead. The tech, the infrastructure, the security—none of it comes cheap or without strings.

We boarded the choppers after a quick stopover. Zara, Halo, the supporting cast, and us—the security detail—moved across three helicopters. One cargo chopper and two smaller military ones, all packed to the gills with key personnel and gear. There’s not enough space for everyone to go in one go, but this isn't a sightseeing trip. We left some behind in Fiji, for now. They’ll catch up later.

The flight was six long hours over the open ocean. For the most part, it was just endless blue, broken only by the occasional ripple of something big beneath the waves. Shadows of strange creatures, awakened or not, glided below us, making me feel even smaller than usual. It felt like we were venturing into the unknown—like explorers from another age.

Then, as the sun started its descent, it appeared: the Lost Continent. Coasts and mountain ranges, lush green forests, rolling plains that seemed to stretch on forever. It’s hard to wrap your head around it—a place that shouldn’t exist, now suddenly real. Twice the size of New Zealand’s South Island, they say. It’s no wonder people are already calling it Atlantis, Lemuria, Mu. Whatever name you slap on it, it’s like a living myth.

The base we arrived at is all Aztechnology. They call it Fiji Base, but that’s just corporate branding. This is an Aztechnology stronghold, through and through. A walled fortress with a port holding a massive freighter and some sleek, fast patrol ships. Military barracks, science facilities, a residential area—it’s all there. The heliport is decked out too, complete with armed helicopters and drones, guns, and missiles.

What kind of research installation needs this much firepower?

They tell us there’s another base on the other side of the Lost Continent, ostensibly New Caledonian, but we all know who’s really pulling the strings there—the Aussies. This is a massive operation, way more than just a simple exploration of some newly risen land.

Touchdown was smooth, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that we’ve just stepped into something far more dangerous than we’ve been told. Halo’s star power may have opened doors for us, but this place feels like it’s hiding something far bigger than any concert.

The sun was almost gone by the time we set foot on this lost world.

Seattle NewsNet Morning Bulletin: June 3, 2097

June 3, 2097

World Headlines

Halo’s Melbourne Concert: Critics and Fans at Odds Halo’s latest concert in Melbourne left critics unimpressed, but her fans in Australia are fiercely loyal. The June 2 show celebrated Australian culture, with Halo paying tribute to the land, its people, and its unique identity. Critics have panned the concert, calling it disjointed and pandering to local sensibilities. However, Australian fans have taken to the Matrix in droves, defending the performance with the hashtag #HaloDownUnder trending worldwide. While the show may not have resonated across the broader tour audience, the connection with Aussie fans has only grown stronger, sparking heated debates online.

One prominent Australian reviewer called it "a love letter to our home, but one that misses the mark for global appeal." Meanwhile, international critics are calling it Halo’s most “polarizing” performance to date.

Unidentified Submersible Sinks Civilian Ferry Near Bali Tensions are on the rise in Southeast Asia as reports come in of an unidentified submersible sinking a ferry off the coast of Bali. The ferry, carrying over 200 passengers, was struck without warning and quickly capsized. Indonesian authorities have yet to issue a detailed statement, only confirming that search and rescue operations are ongoing. Speculation is rife across the Matrix, with rumors ranging from corporate warfare to a rebel attack. No group has claimed responsibility, and the Indonesian government remains tight-lipped on potential culprits. The incident has left many questioning the safety of the waters in the region.

Economic Update: Markets Shaken by Indonesian Incident Global markets experienced volatility following the attack near Bali, with investors fearing escalation in the region. Major shipping routes pass through these waters, and any potential threat to safe passage has far-reaching economic implications. Corporations with ties to the Trans-Pacific region, particularly in the transportation and security sectors, are watching closely for further developments. 

Regional News: Australia and Southeast Asia

Australia: Awakened Threats and Warnings In Australia, public advisories have been issued, warning locals and tourists alike about the dangers posed by Awakened creatures in the Outback and along the coastline. The recent arrival of Halo’s team for her concert has brought renewed attention to these threats, with extra security measures in place for those venturing into the wilds. The general advice remains the same: take precautions, don’t wander alone, and respect the land’s Awakened inhabitants.

Indonesia: TCA Tensions Rising Reports from the Thai border suggest growing tensions between local rebel groups, suspected to be backed by the Trans-Pacific Cybersocialist Alliance (TCA), and government forces. The TCA has been expanding its influence across Southeast Asia, with Thailand and other regional powers pushing back. Speculation around the ferry incident is tied to these tensions, with some suggesting the rebels may be testing new technology to disrupt maritime traffic. Indonesian officials remain noncommittal in their responses, though the incident has drawn increased scrutiny on the region’s security.

Seattle News

North Redmond Violence Escalates Seattle remains on edge as violence in North Redmond continues to spiral out of control. Gang activity, previously confined to the area, has begun spilling over into nearby districts, causing a surge in civilian casualties and property damage. Corporate security forces have stepped up patrols in affected areas, though tensions remain high. Lone Star has issued a public warning advising civilians to avoid travel through North Redmond unless absolutely necessary.

Weather Update

Seattle: Light showers are expected throughout the day, with cooler-than-average temperatures hovering around 12°C (54°F). Skies will remain overcast for most of the week, with rain intensifying later.

Melbourne: Clear skies and mild weather continue in Melbourne, with highs around 18°C (64°F). Perfect weather for Halo’s outdoor vineyard concert scheduled for June 3.

Honolulu: Tropical conditions remain steady, with highs of 27°C (81°F) and a chance of showers in the evening.

Seoul: Following the excitement of Halo’s recent concert, the weather will remain mild with partly cloudy skies and temperatures around 23°C (73°F).

Stay tuned for further updates on these developing stories.

TB’s Journal – May 27 to June 1, 2097: Melbourne

 

May 27 to June 1, 2097 – Melbourne

I’ve never been one for lounging around, but after Seoul’s whirlwind, Melbourne was a welcome reprieve. Not a lot happened in these days. Sure, the occasional meet-and-greet and the usual concert prep, but nothing compared to the chaos of flying around Seoul with Halo breaking every rule in the book. Melbourne has its quirks—mainly the Awakened dangers that come with the territory.

Australia’s reputation as a deadly place has only ramped up post-Awakening. Now, you can’t step into the ocean or wander into the outback without being briefed on the local nasties. The Awakened sea creatures are particularly nasty, and that’s saying something. It’s not just the sharks and jellyfish; it’s spirits and awakened creatures that can tear you apart if you don’t have the proper protection.

They briefed us about it on the flight, and then, once on the ground, I got the more detailed run-down as part of security protocol. It’s all pretty standard if you know what to expect. I made sure to go over the precautions with the team—no taking risks, not after what we’ve been through.

That said, Melbourne gave us some much-needed time to unwind. The city isn’t Seoul, thank God, and there was actually space to relax. I even caught up on sleep, which feels like a minor miracle these days.

June 2, 2097 – Melbourne Concert

This was the main event. Halo put on a massive celebration of everything Australian. The Aussies lapped it up, cheering her on like she was one of their own. The critics? They tore it apart. Something about it not fitting with the broader tour’s themes. To be honest, I don’t care what the critics think. The Aussies loved it, and that’s what matters. What surprised me, though, was the online reaction. It’s turned into a bit of a war—Aussie fans defending Halo against the rest of the world. Fortunately, it’s all in good humor, for now.

June 3, 2097 – Vineyard Concert

After the public show, we had a more intimate concert for the elite at a vineyard outside Melbourne. I’ve lost count of how many of these small, private shows we’ve done for the rich and powerful, but this one had a different feel. Maybe it was the view—overlooking rolling hills, rows of grapes, and the city far in the distance. It was peaceful, almost too peaceful considering what we’ve got coming next.

As soon as Halo finished her last note, we were hustled back onto the preloaded plane. No time to savor the afterglow of a job well done. The next leg of the tour awaits. Fiji is up next, and we’re diving straight into the Lost Continent. Zara’s plan is still murky, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t sound like trouble. We’ve got a lot to prepare for.

The flight was overnight, and with the time difference, we’ll be landing early on June 4th. No rest for the wicked.

TB’s Journal – May 25-27, 2097

 

May 25 

Halo’s private concert, scheduled for today, was canceled due to “medical concerns.” Truth be told, we all needed the break. Seoul took more out of everyone than we realized. After the whirlwind of activity, impromptu performances, and that marathon of a concert, it was no surprise that Halo was completely spent. She stayed in her suite, resting and recovering, while the rest of us did what we do best—guard, plan, and prepare for what’s next.

Wizkid, though, couldn't sit still. He launched another smear campaign against Astrid Nygård. This time, it was a deep fake, a ridiculous and far-fetched one at that, but somehow it still trended. People will believe anything when the narrative’s juicy enough, and Wiz knows how to tap into the digital hive mind. Astrid might have been acquitted of the first round of accusations, but now she’s back in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons. It’s cruel, sure, but in the world we live in, kindness doesn’t always get the job done.

May 26 

We left Korea on a night flight, bound for Melbourne. After the madness in Seoul, there was something oddly peaceful about flying out in the dead of night, the hum of the engines lulling the team to sleep. I wasn’t so lucky. Too much on my mind.

The big topic? The Lost Continent. It’s all anyone can talk about, and Zara is at the heart of it. The rising landmass between Fiji and New Caledonia—call it Atlantis, Lemuria, Mu, or whatever name the press throws around this week—is a gold mine of opportunity for someone like her. And apparently, for us, too.

Zara has roped Halo into it, naturally. Who else but the world’s biggest star could get past Aztechnology’s ironclad lockdown of the place? The official plan is for Halo to explore the continent in VR and Simsense, turning it into some sort of virtual experience for her fans. But the reality is much more covert. Zara wants us to explore as much of the landmass as we can under the guise of a “celebrity adventure.” She’s using Halo’s fame as cover, plain and simple.

The timing is precise—after the Melbourne concert on June 2, we’re flying to Fiji. From there, it’s a chopper to the Lost Continent for a few days, and then a mad dash to the Nusantara concert on June 8. It’s an ambitious plan, but Zara is nothing if not cunning. I’m still not sure if I trust her, but she’s made it clear that this is happening, with or without us. At least we get a seat at the table.

May 27 

We landed in Melbourne before noon, and I managed to catch up on some much-needed sleep. We met Zara later that day. She arrived in Australia a few days before us to get things in place for our upcoming expedition. Seeing her reminded me just how intricate this web has become—Aztechnology, the Lost Continent, Veilguard, Halo, and now us. The stakes are higher than ever, but so is the potential payoff.

Speaking of Veilguard, we’ve finally pieced together the hacking situation. Thanks to some legwork by Black’s associates and Wizkid’s Matrix prowess (with a little help from Eclipse), we now know the hacker responsible: Thorne, a guy Eclipse worked with years ago. Turns out she let him take a fall for her, and he’s been running ever since, hiding out in California. But now, he’s in over his head, working for Veilguard under a fake SIN as “John Snow” (of all things).

Thorne actually reached out to Eclipse, begging for help. The poor bastard wants out and is trying to get to Denver. Wizkid, being Wizkid, has other plans. He’s arranging for Black to snatch Thorne and bring him to Seattle. The thing is, this whole situation runs deeper than just a hacker with a grudge. Thorne was given a top-tier cyberdeck and military-grade software by Jason M. Hardy, the former COO of Veilguard, who recently fled to Tenochtitlán. Hardy had ordered Thorne to spy on Zara Coatl, which opens up a whole other can of worms.

The kicker? Thorne started spying on Halo, Phoenix, and other celebs for fun. Creepy as hell, but in his mind, with his new gear, it was all just a game. He never passed much of it on, except to brag to other hackers about how great he was. The intel on Zara, though—that went straight to Hardy, which means it’s likely Aztechnology knows more than we’d like about what’s going on.

Now, we’ve got to figure out what to do with Thorne. If we’re lucky, maybe he’ll give us something useful before Black drags him back to Seattle. Either way, we’ve got a whole new set of problems to deal with—Zara’s game, Halo’s upcoming concerts, and whatever’s lurking on the Lost Continent.

But for now, I’ll focus on the task at hand. Melbourne awaits, and there’s no rest for the wicked.

Seattle NewsNet Morning Bulletin: May 25, 2097

 

May 25, 2097

Seoul in the Aftermath of Halo’s Electrifying Concert Seoul is still reeling from Halo’s high-energy, impromptu performances and her explosive main concert on May 24. The star, known for her ethereal soundscapes and mesmerizing VR experiences, took the city by storm in an unscripted frenzy that saw her giving multiple mini-performances across the city in the days leading up to the big event.

Last night’s concert, held at the Han River Dome, was a marathon of emotion and sound, stretching far beyond its advertised runtime and pushing both the audience and Halo herself to their limits. Hundreds of fans required medical attention, overwhelmed by the intensity of the performance and the sheer energy coursing through the arena. Critics are divided, with some praising the concert as a once-in-a-lifetime experience, while others point out the dangerously high levels of exhaustion among concertgoers. Despite the mixed reactions, one thing is clear—Halo has left an indelible mark on Seoul.

Concert Reviews:

• "A breathtaking fusion of art and chaos. Halo transcended the stage and brought the city to life." – The Seoul Star
• "Mesmerizing, but reckless. No artist should push themselves—or their fans—this hard." – K-Pulse
• "Unforgettable. Halo is not just a performer, she’s a force of nature." – Asia VR Review

Rebel Uprising in Thailand Escalates Reports from southern Thailand indicate that rebel activity is intensifying, with insurgents allegedly receiving covert support from the Trans-Pacific Cybersocialist Alliance (TCA). Over the past week, several key government outposts have been attacked, with the rebels using advanced weaponry and technology that experts believe could only have come from a high-tech sponsor.

The Thai government has condemned the TCA, accusing them of orchestrating the unrest. TCA leadership has denied these allegations, claiming that the rebels are acting independently. However, many suspect that the TCA is backing the movement to destabilize the region and increase its influence across Southeast Asia.

Economic Report: Slowing Growth in UCAS Tech Sector In economic news, analysts are concerned by a slight dip in growth in the UCAS tech sector, particularly in Seattle, which has long been a hub of technological innovation. Corporate insiders from Renraku and Shiawase point to market saturation and increasing competition from smaller, more agile startups as the primary reasons for the slowdown.

While the slowdown is not yet cause for alarm, it has sparked discussions about the future of tech megacorporations in UCAS and their ability to adapt in an increasingly competitive market. Investors are watching closely as Q2 earnings reports begin to trickle in.

Seattle on Edge as Violence Escalates in Redmond Seattle is once again on edge as violence in North Redmond continues to spill into neighboring districts. The latest wave of unrest has left several dead and dozens injured, with random bystanders and corporate employees caught in the crossfire. Property damage is estimated to be in the millions, and corporate security forces have begun increasing their presence in the area.

Local authorities are struggling to contain the violence, which has been linked to gang warfare and underground criminal networks. Residents and business owners alike are calling for more action to restore peace to the region.

Weather Forecast:

• Seoul: Partly cloudy with a high of 22°C (72°F). Rain expected in the evening.
• Seattle: Overcast with scattered showers throughout the day. High of 18°C (64°F).
• Bangkok: Hot and humid with a chance of thunderstorms. High of 35°C (95°F).

Just In: Thai Rebels Capture Government Outpost In a developing story, rebel forces in southern Thailand have reportedly captured a key government outpost near the city of Yala. This marks a significant escalation in the conflict, as the rebels now control a crucial strategic point. The Thai military is mobilizing for a counter-offensive, but tensions in the region are at an all-time high. Speculation continues to mount regarding the TCA's involvement in the uprising.

TB's Journal – May 21-24, 2097

May 21

We woke up to the news of a major yakuza battle tearing through Tokyo overnight. Can’t say I was surprised, given the tension in the air after last night’s “private” party at Yuuki’s estate. Sayuri Ishikawa’s appearance and the Yakuza’s growing presence made it feel like something was brewing. Maybe it’s just coincidence… but who really believes in coincidences in this line of work?

Regardless, we’ve got bigger things to focus on. Packed up and left for Seoul today. The flight was smooth, and the whole team was in decent spirits, though I can’t shake the feeling that we’re heading into unknown territory. There’s always some tension when entering a new city, but Seoul’s got an energy to it that I haven’t quite figured out yet. Halo, though, seemed distant—distracted even.

May 22-23

It’s not often I see Halo struggle with anything, but Seoul had her grasping at straws. The usual prep, the meet-and-greets, the rehearsals—none of it seemed to land with her. The essence of the place wasn’t clicking, and for the first time, she seemed to doubt her ability to truly connect with the crowd here.

Against my better judgment, I found myself suggesting she break free. No detail, no preplanning. I actually OK’d letting her spread her wings and fly—literally. I never thought I’d be the one giving the green light to something so reckless, but sometimes you’ve got to tear up the script to get to the heart of things. She needed this.

What followed was two days of absolute chaos. Halo, free from the usual constraints, turned Seoul upside down. She took to the skies, flying from place to place, giving impromptu concerts all over the city. One minute she was soaring over the Han River, and the next she was performing in front of a small, bewildered crowd in some forgotten alley.

Poor security. Blink, Slag, and I were running ragged trying to keep up with her. Meanwhile, her management team was in meltdown mode—unscripted performances, freely giving away corporate IP, no pre-approvals, no control. If it wasn’t so ridiculous, I’d have laughed. But here’s the thing: Seoul loved it. The spontaneity, the raw energy, the feeling that they were getting something real, something unscripted—it was the connection she had been looking for, even if it made my job ten times harder.

Even the local cops were in an uproar. They hated every minute of it, and I can’t blame them. No one likes a city-wide scavenger hunt for a global star who refuses to stay put. I’ll admit it worked, though. As much as I hate chaos, this was the right move.

May 24

The concert. Seoul had been primed by two days of impromptu magic, and by the time the official concert rolled around, the anticipation was through the roof. Halo didn’t disappoint. She delivered a performance that was twice as long as advertised and packed with 110% energy from start to finish.

It was like a tidal wave of emotion, energy, and sound crashing over the audience again and again. The crowd was so overwhelmed that hundreds—maybe even thousands—of them needed medical attention during and after the concert. Exhaustion, dehydration, the sheer emotional weight of it all.

And it wasn’t just the crowd. Halo pushed herself to the limit and beyond. By the end of it, she was spent, completely drained. We had to carry her out of the arena, barely conscious, and get her to the hotel. I’ve seen her deliver unforgettable performances before, but this… this was something else. Something primal. Something that demanded everything she had—and more.

Seoul got its star, and it nearly killed her. But I suppose that’s the price of greatness.

TB’s Journal – May 18-20, 2097

 

May 18 & 19 - Tokyo Journal Entry

The last two days in Tokyo have been intense, both on stage and behind the scenes.

May 18, the Renraku-sponsored concert, set the stage for what would turn out to be two very different experiences. Halo played to Japan's past, its traditions, and how it’s adapted to the future. I can’t say I was moved by the concert—too clean, too perfect for my taste. It was a love letter to Renraku’s ideal version of Japan. Sure, it was beautiful, but it felt like playing it safe, especially for Halo. Still, there’s something to be said for perfection. The crowd seemed to love it, though. Halo knows how to work them, even when she’s holding back.

The real action wasn’t on the stage but just off to the side. Halfway through the performance, security spots a young Japanese girl—no more than 16—slipping through the crowd like a ghost. You’ve got to respect the tenacity. She nearly made it to the stage before Slag and Vanya intercepted her. Tense moment there; they thought she was a threat, but it was clear she was just a fan with too much heart and not enough sense.

Halo saw what was happening and, in true Halo fashion, decided to invite her backstage after the show. Her name’s Ren, and she showed up to the after-party with her aunt in tow. She was ecstatic, obviously, but she seemed nervous, too—like she couldn’t believe where she was. Can’t blame her. Halo’s world must seem like another universe to a girl like her. I kept an eye on things. It’s easy for situations like that to spiral, but Ren was harmless, if starstruck. The girl’s going to remember this night for the rest of her life.

But May 19... the Shiawase concert was something else entirely.

Shiawase had pushed for a different theme, and Halo delivered, diving headfirst into Japan's dark side. The mood was heavier, more raw. Halo took the audience through a painful history—wartime devastation, societal pressures, even the existential crisis of modern Japan trying to reconcile tradition with an increasingly globalized identity. It wasn’t a concert so much as an emotional excavation. I could feel the discomfort rippling through the crowd. Some of the faces I saw—there was a lot of shock, and a few walked out. But for every one of them, someone else was captivated, unable to look away.

This wasn’t about entertaining; this was about forcing people to confront things they’d rather not think about. And that’s what makes Halo who she is—she doesn’t just perform, she forces you to feel. I could see it in the air around her—raw emotions bleeding out, changing the very atmosphere of the place.

While the crowd was wrestling with their feelings, I found myself in conversation with Akimitsu Shiawase, of all people. The son of Sadato Shiawase, he was here overseeing the concert’s security. Akimitsu is an interesting guy—quiet, sharp, and an adept. That last part caught me off guard. The Shiawase family doesn’t exactly advertise their association with magic, and here he is, a walking contradiction. We talked about magic, family, and duty. It was a strange conversation, given the circumstances. For a guy from one of the most powerful families in Japan, he’s remarkably grounded, though I doubt he gets much room to show it.

When Halo came off stage, the room was heavy. You could see it in the way she moved—like she’d poured everything into the performance and left nothing behind. We escorted her back to the hotel, and everyone kept to themselves. There wasn’t much to say after a night like that.

May 20 – Tokyo Journal Entry

I thought May 20 would be a quiet day. I should have known better.

What was supposed to be a "small, private affair" at Yuuki’s mountain estate outside Tokyo turned into anything but. It was framed as a casual gathering, but let’s be real—when every guest arrives in private vehicles flanked by armed guards, there’s nothing low-key about it. This was the Shiawase version of the Renraku event at Tokyo Tower a few days ago. Two megacorps, two worlds, and clearly zero trust between them.

We were there to provide security for Halo, as usual. But this event had more than the typical layer of tension. Every corporate dignitary in attendance carried their weight in power, status, and paranoia. The team kept things tight, especially with Halo in such proximity to Japan’s elite.

Then Sayuri Ishikawa showed up.

Sayuri, oyabun of the Kiyomasa-gumi, a particularly influential branch of the Yakuza, decided to crash the party. And when I say crash, I mean he arrived with a small army of goons, all of them looking like they were ready for war. Sayuri wanted to "experience" Halo. Let’s just say the situation was tense enough to make even the coldest corp execs break into a sweat. No one wanted a confrontation—not here, not with all these power players.

I’d like to say I wasn’t rattled, but even I wasn’t sure how this was going to end. Sayuri wasn’t leaving without his experience, and we weren’t letting him near Halo with his entourage of thugs. But as he stepped forward, there was something in his eyes. A fan, maybe? Hell, it’s hard to read people like him.

So, I made the call. Reluctantly, I allowed Sayuri to enter. But only him. None of his goons. I wasn’t stupid enough to leave him entirely unchecked, though—I had a few quiet words with Blink, making sure she and Slag kept an eye on him the entire time. No sudden moves, no trouble.

Halo, professional that she is, handled it all in stride. Sayuri may have been the embodiment of everything rotten with the Yakuza, but he was mesmerized by Halo like everyone else. When the time came for him to leave, he did so without issue—no blood spilled, no drama, just the quiet shuffle of a man who got what he wanted.

After Sayuri was gone, I figured the night was finally winding down. Then, the unexpected happened.

Sadato Shiawase himself pulled me aside. The old man was impressed—not just with how the Sayuri situation was handled but with the whole tour’s security, apparently. He’s seen a lot in his years, so it’s no small thing for him to comment on anything.

Then came the offer—well, more like an agreement made between men who understand each other. He wanted me to take his son, Akimitsu, under my wing for the rest of the tour. The young heir presumptive of the Shiawase dynasty needs to see the world beyond the walls of his family’s corporation. A world where people don’t treat him like the son of a living god.

Shiawase corporate royalty shadowing our security? It’s a risk, no question about it, but it might just pay off. Plus, I get the feeling the kid needs a taste of reality—and I’m all about delivering that kind of lesson.

The night wrapped up with more polite conversation, but the wheels were already turning. This tour just got a whole lot more interesting.

TB’s Journal – May 14-17, 2097

 

May 14 - Arrival and First Contact

The flight into Tokyo was smooth. For a change, we didn’t have a packed day ahead—just one item on the agenda, which was a visit to Yuuki Aoi. She’s one of Japan’s top artists, an Oni with this calming presence that’s palpable even through the vids. You could call her the troll variant, but it’d be selling her short. Her voice has this quality that just reaches deep into your soul, and her VR work is stunningly immersive. People even stream her Simsense recordings just to feel… at peace.

I could see the potential immediately. There was something about her that reminded me of Halo—how both of them had this unique way of connecting with people, calming them, moving them. I suggested to JJ that maybe Skyway Elite should look into signing her, opening up that path to the wider world. She’s already massive in Japan, but I’m thinking global.

As we wrapped up the meeting, I had a moment to reflect on other recent developments. Chris, Evie’s brother, landed a research gig with PanGen. I arranged that through Wizkid’s connections—well, more specifically, through Pandora, one of PanGen’s AI mainframes. Yeah, the same Pandora whose researcher we killed during a job. Life’s strange like that, isn’t it? I don’t trust AI. Never will. But I’ve got ties now. Unavoidable, I guess.

May 15-17 - Navigating the Japanese Elite

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity. Halo was in top form, going from meet-and-greets to interviews, VR events, and private performances. The VR fashion show at Shibuya Crossing was the highlight for a lot of people, but for me, it was the private dinner at the top of Tokyo Tower. That’s where the real business happened, the kind of quiet, subtle power moves that shift the balance of entire industries.

Halo delivered yet again—her performance here was graceful and uplifting, exactly what Japan’s elite wanted to hear. It was clear she knew how to read a room. The Tokyo elite ate it up, stroking their egos with a performance that felt tailored just for them. They had no idea what was coming in the concerts, but for now, they were content.

I hit it off with Taro Nakamura, Tokyo’s mayor, and CEO of Shinomiya Corporation—one of the major players in Japan’s entertainment and VR sectors. We bonded over fine Japanese whiskey and a shared interest in Japanese culture. I thought it was just one of those things, but later, in the very late stages of the afterparty, I caught a glimpse of his astral form. The man’s a Ryūjin, an Eastern Dragon in human form. And I’m pretty sure he meant for me to see it. Dragons, man. They never do anything without a purpose. Maybe he sensed something about me. My own… draconic lineage, there’s a connection there, even if I can’t see where it leads just yet.

Hacking and Revenge

Not everything went smoothly, though. A couple of days in, Wizkid spotted a tiny data leak from Halo’s suite. Eclipse had missed it, but that’s not a knock on her—this was subtle, a real pro job. Wiz traced it all the way to California and nearly caught the bastard responsible before they logged off.

And Wiz? He does not take these things lightly. He went into full meltdown mode, digging deeper and finding out the breach was tied to Veilguard Corp, a cyber-security outfit with connections to Aztechnology. No surprise there. It’s always plots within plots with those guys.

Here’s where Wizkid’s personality kicked in. He could’ve let it go, or at least taken time to plan, but that’s not how he operates. He’s chaotic, impulsive, and when someone wrongs him—or his team—he takes it personally. So, what does he do? He contacts Mr. Black and arranges a run on Veilguard’s Seattle branch. The goal? Complete and utter mayhem.

Is it overkill? Absolutely. Is it petty and vengeful? Without a doubt. But that’s Wizkid for you. He’s brilliant, but he’s a force of destruction when he feels slighted. And right now, Veilguard has no idea what’s coming their way.

TB’s Journal – May 13-14, 2097

 

May 13

No rest for the wicked, right? After the chaos of the last few nights, I’d hoped for a quiet day, but Halo had a private concert for the Hawaiian Royal family and a handful of the island’s elite. The kind of event where everyone pretends to be laid back and easygoing, but the tension beneath the surface could cut glass.

Halo, though—she seemed detached, like her mind was miles away, maybe lost in that endless ocean beyond the islands. Didn’t even seem like she wanted to be there. But the moment she stepped on stage, it was like a switch flipped. She became something else entirely—wind, wave, stone, fire. Four distinct moods, four styles, like the very elements themselves were bowing to her. She tapped into the history of Hawaii, channeling its ancient spirit in a way that left every one of the 200 guests spellbound. It wasn’t just a performance; it was a transformation.

For those lucky enough to witness it, it was an unforgettable night. Halo doesn’t need to put on a show anymore. She is the show.

May 14

We’re on the move again. Early morning flight to Tokyo. No time to really process the last few days—just pack up, board the plane, and go. The ones who’d been on the run with me—Eclipse, Vanya, Fuzzy—we used the flight to rest, catch some sleep. Well-earned, I’d say. But no matter how much we’d like to hit reset, the job doesn’t stop just because we’re tired.

By the time we land, the morning is still fresh in Japan, thanks to the time difference. It’s always a strange thing, arriving in a new city after hours in the air but somehow still stepping into the same day. Accommodations are set at the Hotel Imperial, downtown Tokyo. Top of the line, like everything else on this tour. But the more we do this, the more I feel the weight of it.

There’s danger in routine. You start thinking, “We’ve done this before, we can do it again,” and that’s when you slip. That’s when the principal gets into trouble, or worse. So even though everything feels like it’s clockwork now, I remind myself—and the team—that complacency kills. Tokyo’s no different. We’re here, but our eyes are open. Always.

TB’s Journal – May 12, 2097: Boating at Night

 

May 12 (Night) cont.

The boat sliced through the dark waters, the low hum of its engine lost to the sound of the ocean. We were gearing up as the wind whipped against us, nerves taut with anticipation. This was the kind of job that could go south in an instant—an over-armed corporate compound, a steep forested hill to navigate, and a boat we needed to make it back to.

Wizkid was already busy with Matrix recon, moving cautiously, knowing that if he was too fast or too greedy, they’d spot us before we even got close. His first success was sweet: two combat drones parked on the helipad, now under our control—or, at least, overwritten to think of us as friends and the compound guards as foes. If things went bad, those drones would be a wild card in our favor. The key was not to trip the alarm. Simple, right? Yeah, sure.

As the shoreline neared, Tag eased the boat in. The rest of us—me, Vanya, Eclipse, and Fuzzy—hit the sand and started the uphill climb. Tag would stay behind with the boat, running the drones and ready to extract us fast if things got dicey.

The climb? Grueling. The hill was steep, and the forest wasn’t making it easy. By the time we hit the crest, sweat slicked my back, but at least we had the compound in our sights. There it was: the lab complex, the condos where the researchers lived, and the heliport. Three main targets, all wrapped in a perimeter fence. Fuzzy set up for overwatch while the rest of us moved down, cutting through the fence like we’d practiced.

It was going smoothly—too smoothly. That’s when Vanya spotted it first: a dog-sized lizard, some kind of guard critter. It stared at us, beady eyes glowing under the dim compound lights. Vanya wasted no time, calling on her magic to take it out before it could make a sound. A tense few seconds passed, but nothing stirred. No alarm. We moved fast.

We hit the lab building, climbing through a first-story window, and we were in. The place had that sterile, corporate feel—designed for science, not for visitors. We made our way to the stairwell and found Morran’s lab. This was it. Eclipse went to work on the files while Vanya and I kept watch.

But then, the worst-case scenario played out: a patrol found the dead lizard. Fuzzy handled it like a pro, dropping the guards with two clean shots before they could raise the alarm, but we knew time was against us now. Eclipse finished her hack, downloading the files we came for.

That’s when she got hit.

The security spider in the Matrix blindsided her as she prepped the final download. I’d been working on my own side of things, keeping tabs on the digital layout, so I dove in as Wizkid and helped her fend off the spider. It went down, but not before the general alarm blared through the compound. That was our cue. Time to leave.

We made a mad dash for the window, taking the fastest way down—straight out. It wasn’t graceful, but it beat climbing while bullets were already flying. Vanya hit the ground running, and I was right behind her. Eclipse stumbled a bit but made it through.

By then, Fuzzy and Tag had already kicked things into high gear. Fuzzy’s sniper fire kept the guards from swarming us, and Tag’s drone—a quiet but deadly presence—was ripping through anything that moved. The drones Wizkid hacked did their job, too, taking down the helicopter before the guards even knew what hit them.

On the Matrix, Wizkid—me, really—was throwing everything but the kitchen sink at the compound. False alarms, fake threats, complete chaos. Even the village wasn’t spared, with me sending out decoys and wreaking havoc.

We hit the boat with no time to spare. The sun was just beginning to hint at the horizon, but we were long gone by the time the compound fully woke up. No pursuers. No one tailing us. Just the open sea and the horizon stretching ahead.

We got back to Honolulu by 10 a.m., strolled into the Ares Astoria, and sat down to brunch like we’d been out having a great night. The perfect cover. No one would ever suspect what we’d been up to.

Mission accomplished.

TB’s Journal – May 7-12, 2097

May 7-9

The first few days in Honolulu were exactly what we needed: downtime. The whole team was still basking in the post-Quebec calm, enjoying the extra day we got by leaving early. We stayed at the Ares Astoria Honolulu, one of the nicest places I’ve ever laid my head, courtesy of our sponsors. Even Halo was taking it slow, though she had already started gearing up mentally for the upcoming concerts.

While the crew relaxed and unwound, I split my time between the real world and the Matrix. As Wizkid, I kept tabs on local movements, potential threats, and anything that might become relevant to our work. No surprises—just smooth, unremarkable days filled with sunshine and saltwater.

But, of course, downtime doesn’t last forever. A new job landed in my lap, courtesy of Mr. Black. Another run on VerdantChoice™ Foods, the Aztechnology subsidiary over on Kauai. No prodding from Black this time; he knew better than to push. It was a bigger job than before, with a higher risk attached. This time, we were going after Dr. Morran’s workstation in the main lab—his most sensitive research files. There was talk of a cyberdeck at his apartment, but I was betting security had long since scooped that up. No need to risk going for it.

VerdantChoice™ had locked the place down since our last visit: fences, drones, armed guards, you name it. The payout was bigger this time too, and it required a lot more planning and firepower. I pulled together the right team for the job: Eclipse, Tag, Fuzzy, Vanya, and myself. Blink and Slag would stay behind to cover Halo’s security.

We planned to hit the lab after Halo’s concert on the 12th. It was the only time we could vanish without raising suspicion, using the cover of a major event.

May 10-11
These days were all about preparations. Halo had more public engagements lined up, interviews, and corporate glad-handing. My mind was elsewhere—working the angles of the infiltration, finalizing the details of the run, and securing the equipment we’d need.

Stealth boat? Check.
Drones? Check.
Heavy firepower? Absolutely.

Everything was lining up nicely. We’d hit the facility, download the ghost copy of Morran’s workstation data, and get out clean. Nothing too fancy, but we had to account for the heightened security. The mission was solid; the execution just needed to be flawless.

Meanwhile, Halo was wrapping up her usual rounds, and I made sure the security detail kept things under control. She was focused, withdrawn, prepping mentally for what was to come.

May 12 (Night)

With Halo’s concert having concluded to great acclaim, the team went into operational mode. They geared up for the infiltration of VerdantChoice™ Foods on Kauai, with the objective of retrieving Dr. Morran’s personal offline files from his workstation within the main lab. I had already dismissed the idea of retrieving Morran’s cyberdeck from his apartment, knowing it had likely been secured by corporate security long ago. The real prize was in the lab itself.

By 1 a.m., the team assembled quietly, leaving the hotel under the guise of a late-night supply run. Dressed in plain civilian clothes, they drove up the coast, well away from prying eyes, before boarding the rented stealth boat. The water was calm, but the tension was palpable as they silently made their way toward Kauai, the dark ocean stretching endlessly in every direction.

With all gear checked, drones at the ready, and the clock ticking down, I couldn't help but reflect on how smoothly things had gone so far. But experience had taught him never to let his guard down—something big always seemed to go wrong right when you thought you had everything under control...

TB's Journal – May 4-6, 2097: Hitting Honolulu

TB's Journal – May 4-6, 2097

May 4 

We took off from Quebec at 4 am, leaving behind the mess of last night's riot. Twelve hours later—after a refuel stop in San Francisco—we touched down in Honolulu just before noon, thanks to the time difference. The skies were clear, the weather a warm escape from Quebec’s cold, and we were ready for the week ahead at the Ares Astoria Honolulu.

Ares sponsored this leg of the tour, providing the plane, security gear, and our accommodations, which were more than luxurious. It's part of the deal, but after Quebec, we all needed it.

I spent most of the flight sleeping or wired into the Matrix as Wizkid. Pandora, one of PanGen’s mainframe AIs, reached out to me. We’ve had dealings before, and it was sniffing around, asking if I knew any technomancers. It didn’t say it directly, but I could tell it was fishing, probably trying to figure out if I was one myself. No way I’m going to let it—or anyone—connect me to that.

Instead, I told it I could spread the word. I contacted Greyskull, one of the few hackers I’m certain is a technomancer. He’s always been tight about his abilities, but the money on this job was good, and the project was so public that there was little chance of being black-bagged into a corporate lab. Greyskull agreed, and I passed Pandora his info, knowing it'd be satisfied.

Once we got to the hotel, the entire team—JJ, Halo, and even me—shifted into vacation mode. We had an extra day in paradise thanks to ducking out of Quebec early, and we were going to make the most of it.

Evie called from Tenochtitlán. She’s been down there for most of the tour, moving with her own security team (Mr. Green and Ratchet). She’ll be delayed by a day but plans to join us in Hawaii by May 6. I’m glad she’s coming but even more relieved she’ll be out of Aztlan. Even though I indirectly work for them, I trust Aztechnology about as much as I trust a hungry ghoul.

May 5 

More sun, more relaxation. The team and I finally had some downtime to breathe, but things never stay quiet for long. Zara Coatl—the feathered serpent we met back on Vancouver Island—unexpectedly dropped in. Always an entrance with her, swooping in out of nowhere—figuratively speaking, she arrived by plane and is staying at the Astoria.

Zara had a job for us, a shadowrun on Kauai. VerdantChoice™ Foods, an Aztechnology Consumer Goods Division subsidiary, had a researcher there, Dr. Syles Morran, who wanted out of his contract. It was an inside job, one part of Aztechnology trying to steal a key asset from itself, but Zara brushed it off as a "family affair." Still, a job’s a job, and when a winged serpent asks, you don’t say no. Especially not when she asked so... nicely.

I called up Mr. Black, and through him, we connected with Vince, a local fixer. He got us a boat and some basic runner gear—enough to get the job done without raising too many eyebrows.

The plan? Simple. We tracked Morran’s movements and contacted him covertly through the Matrix, arranging a "meet" in the nearby village. Instead of actually meeting him, we bagged him on his way there. It was almost too smooth—no alarms, no firefight, and before anyone noticed he was gone, we were back on Oahu with our prize. A flawless extraction.

May 6 

Evie finally landed in Honolulu, and I went to pick her up. It had been months since we saw each other in person, and we both needed the break from everything else. We hit the city that night, turning it into an all-night blur of parties, VR-streams, and a lot of indulgence. Nothing too R-rated—at least not for the cameras—but enough to remind me why we do this. Life’s short, might as well make the most of it.

By the time we rolled out of bed, it was already mid-morning, and we were all hungover as hell. Even Fuzzy looked like he’d been through the wringer. But no regrets. It was a perfect, reckless, carefree night, the kind that makes all the chaos of our lives worth living.

Now, we gear up for what’s next. Hawaii’s peaceful, but you can feel the tension in the air. Something’s always around the corner.

TB's Journal – April 30 - May 3, 2097: Quebec, Where the Ice Runs Deep

 

April 30, 2097: The People's Will in Concrete and Steel

We touched down in Quebec today. The cold bite of the air felt familiar after Edmonton, but what hit harder was the sight of the Quebec Central Hotel. A monster of a building—200 stories of neo-brutalist architecture, like someone took all the worst aspects of 'the people's will' and turned them into concrete. Crowning glory? Oh, just an electronic warfare cluster and an air defense missile battery. This place is built like it’s expecting a war, but no, it’s just here to house key delegates for the Socialist Forum. Halo and the crew are housed in a section bugged to hell and back. “For our safety,” of course.

The news is a special kind of misery. We thought the UCAS was bad, but Quebec? This place is drowning in cyber-socialist propaganda. Their special brand of social subversion grates on the nerves, and the worst offender? Astrid Nygård, Speaker from the Scandinavian Union, went out of her way to call Halo the poster child for everything wrong with the world. Classy. A personal callout from a socialist darling—just what we needed.

Not everything was grim, though. We crossed paths with Victor Kolada, Indonesia's representative. Seemed nice enough, but we shrugged him off at first. Then, we hit our breaking point with the city and escaped. We drove out into the countryside, landing at Lac-Saint Joseph Lodge. The contrast couldn’t have been greater—down-to-earth, welcoming, no socialist agenda shoved down our throats.

The next couple of days? Honestly, we needed it. Boating, riding, attending a country fair—it felt human again. That was until we bumped into Kolada again. Turns out the guy’s a huge Halo fan, and he claimed that when we got to Indonesia, things would be a lot different from this Quebec farce. His name threw us at first—Victor Kolada? Russian, but Indonesian? Turns out his grandparents fled Russia when his father was a kid.

Two tent camps popped up soon enough, one for the fans, one for the anti-Halo activists. Secret police swarmed the area, but Halo being Halo, decided to walk right through them all. She gave a small impromptu performance, spoke to both sides, and, miraculously, won over some of the protesters. Maybe it was her charm, maybe it was the free catering we brought along. I also had a hand in it, sending coffee and donuts to the police, because nothing says “please don’t arrest us” like pastries.

May 2, 2097: Summoned to the House of the People

Just as things were getting comfortable, we got an “invite”—no, more like a summons—to meet the high-level socialist reps at the House of the People. Let me tell you, there was nothing “people” about it. It was a cold fusion of French colonial grandeur, bloated bureaucracy, and heavy fortifications. Premier Jean-Luc Boucher’s fortress.

Halo didn’t get a chance to perform, thank God. That would’ve turned into a full-blown riot. But we did manage to establish contact with someone useful: Günther Krieg, a high-ranking exec from Saeder-Krupp. Every city has its real power players, and Quebec is no exception.

May 3, 2097: The Riot Concert

The concert was nothing short of musical perfection. Halo knows how to hit the right notes, literally and metaphorically. She touched on the uniqueness of Quebec, their fierce sense of independence, and tapped into the people’s deep-rooted desire to stand apart from both the UCAS and the corps.

But that’s the thing about Quebec. Beneath the polite exterior, there’s a fire, and tonight Halo fanned those flames. The crowd got rowdy—really rowdy. The streets turned into chaos. There were riots, arrests, the whole nine yards. While the people turned the city upside down, we were already at the airport. Or so we thought.

They kept us on the tarmac for hours. Not exactly a subtle message. By the time we were cleared to leave, two Saeder-Krupp fighter drones were hovering nearby, ready to escort us to the border. Nothing like a little corporate muscle to make you feel loved.

On the flight, Wizkid busied himself crafting a slander package aimed at Nygård. Given how much she’s been spouting off about Halo, it’s high time we put some pressure on her. No one makes an enemy of Halo and walks away unscathed.

We’re headed for Hawaii next, and I’m hoping the warmth will do more than just thaw our bones. We need a reset after Quebec, but something tells me this tour isn’t going to give us any breathers.

TB's Journal – April 26-29, 2097: The DC Power Play

 

April 26, 2097: High Stakes in the Capital

Today was all about DC and its endless political games. Halo had a series of minor events lined up—interviews, handshakes, photo ops, you name it. She plays the role well, almost too well, in my opinion, but then again, she’s mastered this balancing act of public persona and private depth. I stayed behind for something a little more... delicate.

Meeting with Director Isabella Hawke in person is no small thing. She’s the Chairperson of the UCAS Central Intelligence Committee, basically the head of every integrated intelligence service in the UCAS. Elf woman, ageless, utterly professional, and sharp as a razor’s edge. Not someone you lie to, not someone you try to bluff.

The meeting? It was straightforward enough. She knows what we are—corporate tools masquerading under clean, bought-and-paid-for SINs. It doesn’t really matter if our IDs are polished to perfection; in her eyes, they’re not much better than fake ones. But that’s how the world works. Hawke didn’t need to ask why I was there. She already knew—the April 28 Gala Concert at the Jefferson Memorial, where we’ll be up close and personal with the president and half the power structure of the UCAS. She made it clear: we’d be under the tightest scrutiny, no room for error. If anything goes wrong at that gala, it won’t just be a problem for Halo—it’ll be the end for all of us.

April 27, 2097: The Arlington Concert – A Divided Reception

The Unification Arena in Arlington was packed tonight. Another performance from Halo, this time more sophisticated, a step away from the raw emotion of Edmonton. She’s good at reading the room, and DC wanted something else. It was a salute to the strength and ingenuity of the UCAS and Canada, a reminder of what both nations have built together, but there was this undercurrent. A warning, subtle but there—complacency can kill, and the world is still a dangerous place.

The reviews? Split right down the middle. Some critics said it was a triumph, calling it the best thing since ice cream. Others? Well, they labeled it a sell-out, a bland love letter to the corporate-government machine. Personally, I thought it was Halo being Halo—she can’t help but provoke, even when she’s playing it safe. Either way, public reception on the East Coast was overwhelmingly positive. And that's what counts.

Serj the Troll had his shot on stage and did well—better than anyone expected. Luna trended higher, but Serj held his own, and Mira? Well, she’s out. JJ quietly gave her the boot from the tour. Out of a sense of mercy, I suggested transferring her contract to Sterling Entertainment, a mid-tier East Coast agency we’ve just partnered with. Better than nothing, right? She wasn’t thrilled, but it’s better than being thrown out entirely. She’ll survive.

After the show, we laid low. The real test was coming.

April 28, 2097: Halo’s Gala Performance – A Night of Power and Poison

The Gala at the Jefferson Memorial was nothing like the public concerts. This was exclusive, a crowd of 200, including President Caroline Evans and her senator husband, Miles Travers, along with top-tier government, corporate, and foreign elites. No cameras, no streams—just raw influence in human form. Carla “Phoenix” St. James, last year’s VR darling, was there too, trailing behind Halo in the VR star rankings.

Halo’s performance tonight? It wasn’t just music—it was a masterclass in emotional and psychological manipulation. She peeled back the thin veneer of unity, exposing the rivalries, betrayals, and ambitions lurking beneath the surface of DC’s elite. Every note, every shift in tone, was designed to make the audience feel uneasy. People were moved, deeply touched, but also unsettled—with St. James looking aghast as if she just had the news of a loved one's death. It was the kind of art that makes you question who you are and where you stand.

The reactions were mixed, to say the least. Some were enthralled, others uncomfortable, and more than a few were outright rattled. The event ended with polite applause, but everyone in the room knew something bigger had just happened. Halo walked off the stage, not a flicker of doubt in her eyes. The night wasn’t recorded, but I’m sure some parts will leak—Washington can’t help itself.

Afterward, we kept our heads down. No one wanted to get caught up in the aftermath of whatever Halo stirred up. Tomorrow’s a rest day, and we’re going to need it.

April 29, 2097: The Day After

Today was quiet. Halo’s gone deep into herself again—cocoon mode. Vanya and the rest of us took the chance to breathe. We’ve got an early flight to Quebec coming up, and whatever’s waiting for us there is bound to be as intense as DC, just in a different way.

One thing’s for sure: this tour isn’t just music. It’s a chess game, and every stop is another move in a bigger, more dangerous game than we even realize.

TB’s Journal – April 23-25, 2097: The Edmonton Concert and the Road to DC

 

April 23, 2097: The Night the City Stood Still

Edmonton might have been cold, but the energy surrounding Halo’s concert was electric. The whole city felt it. UCAS National Guard units and police from every direction locked the place down, making sure the recent threats from groups like Provolution and warnings from the Cree spirits didn’t turn this night into chaos. Our team had the best security setup you could ask for: layered, tight, and paranoid—just the way we like it.

The concert itself? Pure magic. Halo opened with a raw, emotional set that tapped into the collective pain of metahuman communities, their history of marginalization, and the tensions simmering between the UCAS government and First Nations. She didn’t hold back. As the music hit the crowd, the themes got heavier—grief, betrayal, division—but Halo, in her way, managed to spin it into a story about hope. Not easy hope, though—she made it clear that healing isn’t guaranteed. That’s her style these days, a lot of darkness with just enough light to keep you holding on. Sounds familiar.

Mira Patel had her moment on stage too, playing up her First Nation heritage, tenuous as it is. People talked about it for a minute, but honestly? It didn’t stick. The magic wasn’t there, not like with Halo. And I think Mira knew it the second she walked off the stage.

We ran full security until Halo wrapped up, then hustled her back to the hotel. Despite the emotional storm she kicked up in Edmonton, the night went without any drama. A few restless ghosts, maybe, but no explosions. That’s a win in my book.

April 24, 2097: The Calm Between the Storms

After the high of the concert, today was all about rest. Honestly, we needed it. Yesterday’s brawl with the yeti and shamans was still fresh in our muscles, and tonight’s intensity didn’t help. No attacks, no ambushes—just a creeping exhaustion settling into the bones.

Halo went into what I call “cocoon mode.” No contact, no nothing. She’s done this before, when the weight of everything catches up to her. Not sure if she’s meditating, planning, or just disappearing into herself for a while. Whatever it is, we leave her to it. I’ve learned not to push when she gets like this.

As for the rest of us, it was a day of keeping a low profile and prepping for the move to DC. Vanya took some time to meditate on the spirits we encountered. Fuzzy hit the gym—probably working off the yeti trauma—and Wizkid scouted the Matrix, seeing if anyone was sniffing around too close to our business. Me? I let the city quiet down around me and tried not to overthink what’s coming next.

April 25, 2097: Into the Heart of Power

We packed up early and flew to Washington DC on the corporate charter jet—another perk of rolling with Halo. Touchdown in DC was smooth, and we rolled into the Ares Astoria. The Presidential Suite—or should I say Presidential Floor—is a fortress in its own right, with more security than the Pentagon, and a view that makes you feel like you’re lording over the entire city.

Once we got settled, it was time to hit the town for some low-key streaming. Nothing flashy, just showing Halo’s fans that she’s still there, still human, while giving them glimpses of the DC nightlife. I’m not much of a VR star, but Halo’s audience eats it up.

Tomorrow? Well, tomorrow is the start of something bigger. Washington DC isn’t just another stop on the tour—it’s a power play. And we’re right in the middle of it.