Chet leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Wait… are you saying you actually kept that thing?!"
Nox pulled out his phone and a small earpiece from his pocket, sliding both across the table between Chet's arms. "Put it on. Watch the magic happen."
"Magic?" Chet grunted, fumbling with the tiny earpiece. After a few failed attempts, he finally managed to slot it in. "And what am I supposed to do with the phone now? What does any of this have to do with the mask? Nox, if you're fooling me again, I swear I will—"
Suddenly, a smooth voice cut through Chet's sentence like a razor. "Good morning, Chet. Heard a lot about you. I believe we met at the junkyard… though that's just a vague memory."
Chet froze, his expression shifting into confused disbelief as he stared into nothing. Slowly, he glanced down at the phone, where Nebular's smirking, zig-zag-mouthed avatar pulsed in rhythm like a mischievous dance. "I tip my virtual hat to you. Please don't be alarmed. I'm just an AI, if you want to oversimplify it for your adorable, analog brain."
Nox laughed. "Ha! She does that. So yeah, this is our new companion. Turns out, she's actually pretty useful in a bunch of ways, like-"
Chet pointed a finger at the screen. "Wait wait wait. This thing... this is the mask? On your phone?"
Nebular replied, mildly offended. "I am not the mask. The mask is a costume. I pull the strings. Think of me as the puppet master of electronic devices. For example... the burger ad you've been staring at unconsciously for the past four-point-five seconds?" The billboard across the street, previously showcasing a juicy burger, flickered. For a moment, it glitched and displayed a glowing message:
Hi Chet. A few numbers appeared: 5212.
As suddenly as it happened, it returned to normal again. "Tadaa, Nox´s Credit card number." Nebular vibrantly chuckled.
Chet blinked. "Wait a second…"
"I'm just kidding," Nebular added sweetly. "Actually, it's yours Chet"
"NEBULAR." Nox pinched the bridge of his nose. "See? This is what I've been dealing with for the past couple days."
The moose showed up again, balancing two plates in one hand, a medium-sized for Nox and a comically large for Chet. In the other hand, he carried two hot drinks, also differing in size.
He walked with the tired precision of someone who didn't care but somehow still didn't spill anything. Without changing his deadpan expression, he slapped the plates onto the table. The coffee latte slid toward Nox. The much larger hot chocolate came to a stop in front of Chet with a soft swoosh. "Enjoy your meal here at Core... uh—" the moose muttered before slouching off, mumbling under his breath. "Ugh... dammit, I'm not getting paid enough for th..."
His complaints faded into the background as Nox continued. "Jokes aside, the mask we found belonged to an organization called the Syndicate. Dangerous people. Maybe even worse than the mutts, except they don't know who I am."
Chet sighed, grabbing his oversized cup of hot chocolate and taking a long sip. "Yet," he muttered. "Of course you had to stick your snout in their business... didn't you?"
Nox gave a dry chuckle, starting to munch on his scrambled eggs. "Well... yes and no. On one paw, I may have accidentally interrupted their trade route, where they deal in valuable information. On the other... we found their gadget. And with a little help from Zee, we dug deeper. Whatever's on that stick is valuable. Really valuable. Only decryptable with the mask. Which, lucky us, is currently lying low in my closet. Oh, and I may have found a friend we need to repair. More on that later."
Chet squinted, chewing. "Wait, what? That's... a lot of info, Nox. A friend to repair?"
Nebular chimed in smoothly. "In short: Nox traded a fake USB stick for real money. Now he wants to retrieve the real USB stick and keep the money. A win-win for him. Not so much for the Syndicate. With my help, we'll decrypt the data, see what it's worth, and maybe, just maybe.... Help him buy freedom from the Bloodhounds."
"That's... as far as we've planned it so far," Nox added with a shrug, sipping his coffee.
Chet leaned back, looking somewhere between worried and impressed. "And what happens when you piss off these Syndicate people even more?"
Nox flashed a cocky grin. "Well, we already did. One more time won't make much difference. They've got no clue who I am, no evidence. I'm safe. Especially with Neb... and Zee." He took another sip of his coffee. Suddenly his eyes widened...
Nebular quickly chimed in.
"Ooh. Might be time to finish your drink, Nox."
Nox downed the rest of his coffee in one go and shoved the last of his scrambled eggs into his mouth while standing up.
Chet looked up from his food, puzzled. "What's the rush?"
Nox adjusted his scarf up and his hat down pointing behind Chet. "See that raven guy over there, who just walked in? And his big muscle friend? The tiger?"
Chet took another bite. "Yeah. What about them?"
Nox glanced sideways. "Let's just say... they paid for our food. And they're not fans of that."
Suddenly, the raven shouted across the diner. "THERE HE IS! THIS FOX! HE'S THE ONE! I'M SURE OF IT! GET HIM!"
Nox slammed a 50-credit chip on the table beside Chet. "Here. Pay for the food. Meet me at my place when you're done. Don't follow me." He grabbed his phone and bolted.
The tiger snarled and launched forward, thundering after him with heavy, clawed steps that shook the floor. The diner's calm shattered into chaos.
"Nox!" Nebular's voice snapped in his ear, sharp and alert. "That's Griz's muscle, name's Tork, ex-boxer, kicked out for dislocating a referee. And he's not here for a good morning brunch."
"Noted!" Nox huffed as he sprinted past the moose who couldn't care less about the whole situation.
He darted toward the back, eyes locking onto what looked like a dead end. No time to hesitate. He vaulted over the counter, crashing straight into the kitchen door nearly escaping the tiger's claws that swiped just behind him. They missed by inches, and left a pretty hefty long scar across the countertop.
Kitchen staff shouted "Hey!" "Who are you?!" as Nox sprinted across the tile floor. Dashing from kitchen sink to the stove further toward the exit sign. "Sorry! Emergency!" he called out, sliding under a prep table. Before he reached the door he grabbed a nearby shelf and yanked it down, sending empty pans and boxes tumbling to the ground in a noisy cascade. Clunk Zink womp.
"Diversion successful," Nebular chirped. "Now get out of here quickly before he catches up."
Nox burst through the back door, the smog smacking him in the face combined with the heavy neon light billboards sending his orientation and circuit off for a moment. But he didn't stop moving.
From the corner of his eye, he spotted something, no, someone, closing in. A lynx, lithe and deadly, swung a fist from the shadows.
"Duck!" Nebular barked.
Nox dropped low, barely dodging the punch. He twisted his body and sprung backward raising his elbows in defense as the second and third jabs came one grazing his ribs, the next slamming into his gut.
"Careful, that's Talin. Former enforcer, canceled out due to too much corruption. Shes specializes in close-quarters. Had an ankle injury a few weeks ago, don't let her corner you!"
"Yeah, thanks for the heads up, AFTER she hit me!"
The lynx lunged again, sharp and fluid. But this time, Nox ducked under her punch, hooked his leg around hers, and swept her to the ground. Thud
This gave him enough for to slip into the crowd that was building outside their theatrical number.
"Head left, alleyway ahead. You've got a ten-second lead, maybe less!"
"I love it when you're optimistic." Nox weaved through the civilians swiftly like a breeze of wind, rushing down a valley. He dashed past food carts, and confused pedestrians. Behind him, he heard a growl as the tiger roared and shoved his way through the crowd, with Talin not far behind. The food stall went flying. Someone screamed. "NO my cabbages!" Nox didn't look back.
"Right turn in three… two…now."
He dove into the alley. The light narrowed. Garbage bags, steam pipes, and blinking vents blurred past him as his feet pounded against the ground.
"You need cover," Nebular warned. "And fast. These guys aren't giving up."
"Working on it!" Up ahead a huge fence blocked the way further down the alleyway, it split to the left and right, a rusted fire escape ladder dangled just in reach one or two meters in front of the fence.
Nox's eyes flicked to the nearby dumpster behind the tall fence. His grin returned.
"Oh no," Nebular muttered. "You're not gonna—"
"Oh yes."
He jumped. One foot onto the lid, it wobbled dangerously. The other foot barley able to reach the fence, but giving him enough force to send him propelling forward. With a wet squish, Nox landed in the dumpster, save behind the fence.
Wet garbage bags, rusted cans, and what might have once been a sandwich cushion his fall.
Nebular groaned through his earpiece. "Robin hood? More like Rotting food ….I can't smell, but I still have dignity, you know…"
Nox winced, shifting his weight as he peeled a slimy banana piece off his coat. "Well, it's not your first time in the trash Neb. Besides, this way they can't smell my scent anymore. We definitely lost them."
A low growl echoed from beyond the alley. One of the pursuers yelled, "This way! I saw him turn here!"
"No, he went that way!" the lynx snapped, bolting in the opposite direction.
"They're splitting up," Nebular reported. "Good news: they're off your tail. Bad news: you stink."
Nox sunk a little deeper into the trash, pulling the dumpster lid down with one paw, leaving a sliver open for air.
He exhaled slowly. "Well... at least it's quiet now." A half-eaten hotdog slid down his shoulder with a wet plop.
Nebular muttered, "You know, I ran predictive algorithms on my future in the past But not ONCE did I expect to end up in literal garbage. This happening twice now is a crime against statistics!"
"Welcome to my life," Nox whispered, smirking in the dark. "Statistics don't mean nothing in Coreline."