As Sol rests, tension coils in his muscles, his mind never fully at ease. He knows DreamCorp's response will come swiftly, their retaliation inevitable.
His system updates him on his physical state, analyzing the effectiveness of the healing spores. Word of Sol's recent sabotage spreads. Some factions admire his audacity, while others fear what he's bringing down on them. Some begin to discuss whether they should stay out of his way or try to reach him first.
Then, his communicator chimed again. The number was familiar.
[DreamCorp has offered you a deal.]
It was from Lira.
Sol frowned as he read the message, his fingers drumming lightly against the edge of his communicator. A deal? That was unexpected. DreamCorp didn't negotiate unless they saw value in someone. Either they were getting desperate, or this was a trap.
[What kind of deal?]
A few beats passed before the reply came.
[They want you to stop your attacks. In exchange, they're offering 'protection' and resources.]
Sol scoffed, shaking his head. Protection? From who? The only real threat to him was DreamCorp itself. The offer was an insult, wrapped in a thin veil of diplomacy.
[Sounds like a setup.]
[Most likely,] Lira agreed. [But the fact that they're offering something means they don't want to go all-in just yet. They still want something from you.]
Sol leaned back, exhaling through his nose. He wasn't naïve enough to think DreamCorp wanted to work with him in good faith. They had spent months hunting him, and now that they couldn't pin him down, they suddenly wanted to talk? He knew exactly what they wanted—the core of his system. And he had no doubt they would stop at nothing to pry it out of his head. This whole deal was nothing but a joke.
[You think they'll keep pushing this?]
[Depends. They're pulling in more outside help. Specialized teams. They'll try force before diplomacy, but if that fails, they'll double down on trying to buy you out.]
Sol scoffed. DreamCorp was used to throwing money at problems and making them go away. But he wasn't for sale.
[Let them keep trying. It won't change anything.]
A pause. Then—
[So you're rejecting it?]
[Obviously.]
Another moment of silence, then Lira sent another message.
[They've been running around trying to contact you. Here's a number—they want to talk.]
A second later, a new number popped up on his screen. Sol stared at it for a long moment, tapping his fingers against his knee. DreamCorp scrambling to reach him directly? That was new.
[And what do you think?] he finally asked.
[That it's a waste of time. But it's your call.]
Sol exhaled slowly. He wasn't stupid enough to think DreamCorp's sudden persistence was anything but desperation disguised as diplomacy. Still, curiosity itched at the back of his mind.
With a frown, he decided—why not entertain them?
[I'll give them a call. See what they have to say.]
Lira's response was immediate.
[Don't get yourself killed.]
Sol took a deep breath as he dialed the number, placing the communicator on speaker. The line rang once, twice, before clicking. A smooth, confident voice answered.
"I was wondering when you'd finally call."
Sol's voice remained cold, his patience thin. "With you bothering me this much, what else could I do?"
A pause on the other end. Then, a measured response. "You've been forcing our hand, Sol. What did you expect?"
"Sol's voice was cold, carrying a sharp edge of impatience. "Say what you need to say before I hang up.""
"We want to offer you a chance, Sol. A way to end this without either side losing any more resources."
"You mean without me making more of a mess for you."
"Perspective is everything. But yes, something like that."
Sol tapped his fingers against his knee. "You lot have been trying to rip something out of my skull for months, and now you want to chat? Doesn't really inspire confidence."
"We underestimated you," the voice admitted. "But that doesn't mean we can't come to an understanding. You have something we want. And you, Sol, have more enemies than just us."
Sol narrowed his eyes, his voice flat. "What enemies? Other than DreamCorp, everything has been peachy."
The voice on the other end didn't hesitate. "You're underestimating the reach of your actions, Sol. DreamCorp isn't the only entity keeping tabs on you. There are others—groups that don't appreciate disruptions, factions that fear what you're capable of."
Sol remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
"There's a bounty on your head that keeps growing. It's not just us looking for you anymore. Mercenaries, rival organizations, and even some of the more powerful syndicates are starting to take interest. The underworld is buzzing with your name, and not all of them are content to simply watch."
Sol's grip on the communicator tightened slightly. He had expected this to some degree, but hearing it laid out so plainly only reinforced the reality of his situation. "And let me guess—you're offering protection from them?"
"We're offering something better—control. Right now, you're playing a dangerous game with too many moving pieces. We can help you navigate it. Without us, you're just another target with a high price tag."
"A future. One where you're not constantly looking over your shoulder."
Sol let out a low laugh. "You seriously expect me to believe that? After everything?"
The voice remained calm. "Believe it or not, DreamCorp is willing to negotiate. We don't need to be enemies."
Sol leaned forward. "Then tell me—what exactly do you want from me?"
The voice on the other end paused for a moment, as if considering the best way to phrase the answer. "Your cooperation. Your talents. We believe you could be an asset rather than a liability."
Sol's voice was cold, cutting through the air like a blade. "Asset? You mean a tool." He let the silence stretch before continuing, his tone unwavering. "And what exactly are these talents you're so eager to exploit?"
"That depends on your perspective," the voice replied smoothly. "We see potential, Sol. You're resourceful, unpredictable, and capable in ways most operatives are not. Rather than continuing this game of cat and mouse, why not use those skills for something greater?"
Sol's voice was cold and steady, devoid of its usual mockery. "And what exactly would I be doing in this 'greater' purpose?" Running errands for you? Helping clean up your messes?"
"Nothing so menial," the voice assured him. "You've proven you're beyond that. We're offering a role in something bigger. Intelligence. Strategy. Operations that require someone with your unique abilities."
Sol's voice remained cold, his patience running thinner by the second. "I don't believe a single word coming out of your mouth." He let the silence stretch, his tone unwavering. "I know exactly how valuable the core is. And I'd be a fool to believe that an organization as powerful as DreamCorp would just hand it over to me because of my so-called 'talents.' So tell me, what's the real angle here?"
"Freedom. Resources. Safety. The weight of DreamCorp off your back permanently. Instead of being a fugitive, you'd be an ally."
Sol let the words settle, rolling them over in his mind. It was a tempting package—on the surface. But he wasn't an idiot. "And if I refuse?"
The voice remained neutral. "Then we'll have no choice but to escalate. You know this, Sol. You're smart enough to realize that every move you make only tightens the noose. We're simply offering you an alternative."
Sol's words came out as a quiet warning. "An alternative where you get exactly what you want, and I get to pretend I'm not still being controlled."
"You'd have autonomy. You'd be part of something larger. And more importantly, you'd be safe."
Sol exhaled slowly, his tone measured and sharp. "You're making a lot of promises. But I have a problem with your proposal."
"And what's that?"
He leaned back, voice dripping with mock thoughtfulness. "I don't trust you."
The voice on the other end remained steady, as if expecting this response. "That's understandable. Trust isn't built overnight. But trust isn't necessary for cooperation."
Sol scoffed. "Cute line. But let's not dance around the real issue. What about the core? You know, the thing you've been trying to dig out of my skull since day one."
A brief pause. "The core is an asset of great value. Its potential is far beyond what you understand."
Sol's smirk widened. "Oh, I understand just fine. You want to rip it out and reverse-engineer it, see what makes it tick, maybe slap it into someone more obedient."
"No. We want to utilize it properly—alongside you."
The voice remained smooth, unfazed. "We acknowledge the core's value, and we acknowledge yours. The two are linked. Separating you from it would be inefficient at best. Work with us, and you won't have to keep running. You'll have access to knowledge, resources—things you wouldn't find anywhere else. You'd be in control, Sol."
Sol's fingers twitched slightly, the only outward sign of his simmering frustration. "You don't get to talk about control. You've been trying to control me from the beginning. All of this—this little talk, this so-called offer—is just another way to get me under your thumb. You know that, and I know that."Sol didn't laugh this time. His voice was edged with something unreadable. "So you don't want to gut me for it anymore?"
"You're more valuable with it intact. If we wanted to remove it by force, we would have done so by now."
Sol tilted his head, intrigued but unconvinced. "That's funny. Considering I've been running circles around you, I'd say you *tried* and failed."Sol tapped his fingers on his knee, considering. "And if I refuse?"
"Then the situation escalates."
Sol inhaled deeply, his patience wearing thin. "Always with the threats. You people never change. But I'll give you credit—at least this time, you're dressing it up as a choice."
The voice on the other end remained composed. "It is a choice, Sol. You have to ask yourself what future you want. Do you really think you can keep this up forever? You're running out of places to hide."
Sol's jaw tightened, his grip on the communicator firm. "That's funny. I don't recall ever hiding. If anything, you're the ones scrambling to keep up."
"For now," the voice admitted. "But even you must realize that pressure is mounting. You're at the center of a storm, and it won't be long before it consumes you. DreamCorp isn't your only problem anymore. Others are watching—some waiting to see how this unfolds, others preparing to move before it's too late."
Sol exhaled through his nose. "And let me guess—you're my only way out?"
"We're your best option."
A short silence stretched between them, heavy and unmoving. Sol finally spoke, his voice quieter but no less firm. "And if I say no?"
The answer came without hesitation. "Then we escalate."
Sol leaned forward, his tone turning ice-cold. "Then do it. If you're so confident in your hand, play it. But understand this—whatever you send after me, whatever plans you make, I will tear them apart piece by piece. You think I'm at the center of a storm? I *am* the storm. And if you push me, you're going to find out exactly what that means."
His voice dropped lower, each word laced with barely restrained fury. "I'm done holding back. I've played nice, I've given you chances, but if you keep coming after me, I'll leave a river of blood in my wake. Make your choice."
The voice remained silent for a few beats, then exhaled lightly. "You really won't bend, will you?"
"Not for you," Sol said flatly.
Another pause. Then, the voice softened just a fraction, as if in genuine regret. "Then you leave us no choice."
Sol didn't respond. He simply cut the line.