Sleep offered no escape for Akira Sato. When he did manage brief moments of unconsciousness, his dreams were haunted landscapes of flickering server lights, the scent of smoke and blood, and the accusingly empty eyes of a man in a cleaner's uniform he'd never met. He'd wake up gasping, tangled in his thin futon, the silence of his cramped apartment amplifying the frantic pounding of his own heart.
The guilt was a physical weight, pressing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe. Civilian casualty noted. Regrettable but necessary collateral. He'd typed those monstrous words. He'd sent them. And Wraith, his chillingly competent agent, had simply acknowledged. No pushback. No questioning the cost. Just… acceptance. Did Wraith see him as that cold? That calculating? Did Wraith agree?
The thought made Akira feel even sicker. He'd created Zero as an escape from his own inadequacy, a power fantasy. Now, the fantasy demanded a callousness he didn't possess, while simultaneously plunging him into real-world dangers he was utterly unequipped to handle.
He spent his days in a haze of jittery paranoia. Every distant siren seemed to be heading for his building. Every unexpected email notification made him jump. He obsessively scanned news sites, looking for any mention of the Serpens-Epsilon incident beyond the initial vague reports of an 'industrial accident'. Nothing. The silence from Argent Syndicate felt less like relief and more like the eerie calm before a devastating storm. They knew someone had hit them. They'd sent fixers who weren't afraid to kill. They wouldn't just let it go. They were probably digging, tracing, connecting the dots back from Serpens, back through Nexus Capital, maybe even back to the PixelForge probe or the Nocturne Logistics investigation. Back towards Nightingale. Back towards Zero. Back towards him.
He imagined shadowy figures rappelling down his apartment building, kicking in his door, dragging him away to some black site interrogation room. He imagined Argent's resources – the wealth, the influence, the ruthlessness demonstrated by their fixers. He was just one guy in a messy room with a fast internet connection. He stood no chance.
He had to do something. Hiding felt like waiting for the inevitable axe to fall. Deleting the Zero account now, disappearing from the Umbral Net, would look suspicious to his own agents, maybe even trigger some failsafe he didn't know about. Besides, a part of him, the part that had thrilled at Wraith's competence and the team's success with the Convergence Vector, couldn't quite let go. The Zero persona, despite the terror it now induced, was the only thing that made him feel remotely powerful, remotely in control.
If Argent was hunting Nightingale, then Nightingale needed to strike back. Not defensively, not cautiously. Decisively. A blow so significant it would throw Argent off balance, disrupt their operations, make them focus on damage control instead of hunting shadows. It was insane logic, born of fear and a desperate need to reassert the fantasy of Zero's control, but it took root in Akira's panicked mind.
Strike what, though? He couldn't risk another low-level operation that might result in more 'collateral damage'. It had to be bigger. Something central to Argent's power, but something… digital? Something his team could handle remotely, minimizing physical risk? A data farm. Yes. Cripple their information network.
His mind flashed back to the fragments Oracle and Miller had mentioned. "Project Chimera." Initially linked to ChronoCorp, but weren't Argent and ChronoCorp colluding? The Serpens network proved that. Maybe Chimera wasn't just ChronoCorp's. Maybe it was shared. Or maybe Argent funded it, used it for their own purposes?
He feverishly searched the conspiracy forums again, filtering for "Argent Syndicate" and "Project Chimera." Most results were dead ends or wild speculation. But then he found it – a rambling, barely coherent post on a fringe sub-forum. The author claimed, citing unnamed 'insider sources' (likely imaginary), that Project Chimera wasn't just a ChronoCorp data project, but Argent's real crown jewel: a massive, hidden data farm where they aggregated global financial information, tracked competitors, ran predictive market manipulation algorithms, and even maintained kompromat files on influential figures. The post claimed it was Argent's central nervous system.
It was almost certainly complete bullshit. The sourcing was non-existent, the claims wildly exaggerated. Any rational analysis would dismiss it instantly.
But Akira wasn't rational. He was terrified, sleep-deprived, and desperate. The forum post, flimsy as it was, offered exactly what he needed: a target that sounded incredibly important, technologically advanced (playing to Oracle's strengths), and directly linked (in this fictional account) to Argent's core power. Hitting Chimera felt like punching the beast in the heart.
This is it, Akira thought, a tremor of manic energy running through him. This is Zero's move. Decisive. Unpredictable. Striking at their core before they can consolidate their hunt for us. He ignored the ChronoCorp connection, ignored the lack of credible evidence. Fear and ego demanded action, and Project Chimera was the target that presented itself.
He began drafting the directive, channeling the cold, strategic voice of Zero, burying his own panic under layers of calculated jargon. He needed to frame it not as a panicked reaction, but as a deliberate, necessary escalation. Argent drew first blood; Nightingale would respond with overwhelming force against a critical node.
// Nightingale Protocol: Shattered Mirror //
Subject: Decisive Counter-Strike - Argent Syndicate Central Data Nexus.
Target Designation: Project Chimera. (Confirmed Argent strategic asset via multiple intelligence vectors - cross-referenced Serpens network linkage).
Context: Argent Syndicate has escalated hostilities (Ref: Serpens Node Incident, Lethal Action). Passive stance no longer viable. Failure to neutralize core Argent data capability risks Nightingale operational integrity and personnel safety. Proactive neutralization required.
Directive: Plan and execute multi-vector assault on Project Chimera data farm infrastructure. Primary Objective: Complete data neutralization and core system paralysis. Secondary Objectives: Extract relevant Argent operational intelligence if feasible without compromising primary objective. Maximize operational speed and digital footprint obfuscation.
Team Roles (Initial):
Oracle: Lead digital infiltration, identify network architecture vulnerabilities, execute data wipe/system crash protocols.Muse: Gather human intelligence on Chimera personnel/security protocols via social engineering (remote only). Identify potential internal weaknesses or access points.Atlas: Analyze logistical requirements for potential physical support (contingency only), map power grids and network infrastructure supporting known Chimera facility locations (multiple suspected sites – prioritize verification).Wraith: Standby for tactical support/reconnaissance if physical insertion becomes unavoidable (high risk, contingency). Threat assessment based on incoming intel.
Task: Initiate collaborative planning phase immediately. Submit preliminary operational concepts via secure channel within 24 hours. Time is critical.
Comment: They revealed their hand by shedding blood. We respond by shattering the mirror that reflects their power. Hesitation is death. Execute with precision and finality.
// Zero //
Akira stared at the message, his own words terrifying him. Decisive Counter-Strike. Complete data neutralization. Shattering the mirror. Hesitation is death. It sounded so powerful, so certain. He'd even assigned specific roles, made it seem like a carefully considered plan. He'd deliberately downplayed the risk, framed physical insertion as a remote contingency, hoping to keep his agents out of harm's way as much as possible, even while sending them towards a digital furnace.
He felt a surge of conflicting emotions: the icy grip of fear at the magnitude of what he was ordering based on a lunatic forum post, but also a perverse thrill, an ego boost from crafting such a bold, commanding directive. He sounded like a spymaster. He sounded like Zero.
His finger hovered over the send button. This was crossing a threshold far more significant than the previous missions. This wasn't reconnaissance or analysis. This was ordering an attack on a major, potentially heavily defended, data facility belonging to a ruthless organization that had already proven willing to kill. Based on a hunch fueled by panic and conspiracy theories.
What if Chimera is real, but it's purely ChronoCorp? What if it's defended by Unit 7? What if the forum post was bait? What if Argent expects this?
The doubts screamed in his mind, but the fear of inaction screamed louder. The fear of being found, helpless in his messy apartment, was greater than the fear of the consequences of this insane gamble. He had to maintain the facade. He had to keep his agents focused on the enemy, not questioning their leader. He had to act.
He squeezed his eyes shut and clicked Send, dispatching the order to Wraith, Oracle, Muse, and Atlas.
The message flew out into the void, carrying Akira's fear and desperation disguised as strategic command. The digital equivalent of throwing gasoline onto a fire he barely understood.
He opened his eyes, staring blankly at the screen. The command was given. There was no taking it back. He felt a strange sense of detachment, the adrenaline of the decision momentarily numbing the panic. He had pushed the button. He had raised the stakes to a terrifying new level.
Zero Hour had begun. Whether it led to Nightingale's greatest triumph or their utter annihilation depended now on the skill of his agents and the chaotic whims of a reality he had accidentally provoked. Akira Sato, the man who would be Zero, could only watch, wait, and pray his desperate gamble didn't get everyone killed.