Ficly

Going Up

Acrylic shifted to a neutral standing position, apparently staring off at the wall. It seemed as though he were just standing there, but I knew he was going through networks like a nanotube blade through concrete.

I glanced over at Fetus, who was busy unscrewing another one of the implants in her arm. She was occupied with constructing a device to grant us access to the MEPHISTO room. We’d figured that a project of MEPHISTO’s importance would be fortified with additional security measures disconnected from the main networks; if Acrylic was unable to break into it, it fell to Fetus. Admittedly, at that stage of the plan, I was the firepower.

Despite going up over one hundred floors, our trip in the elevator was mind-bogglingly short. The bell dinged, and the doors opened. I started to walk out the doors, but Acrylic put out an arm to restrain me. Fetus waved her hands around the doorway. “It’s clean,” she announced.

Leaving the white sheet behind, the three of us exited onto the hundred and twelfth floor.

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