The three of us rushed into the main room, watching as people frantically ran through the room. The people stationed at the computers typed hastily, their faces marred with panic. In the main room, red light flashed warning. Across the monitors on the wall were the words "I am Rizal."

I felt my breath catch in my throat. I had known of the name. I was aware of what the person attached to it did. I even realized that I was now given a job to hunt him down. But with the three words repeating over and over, reality crashed into my chest.

He was actually real. He was teasing us.

"Someone! Trace the signal! How did he get in?!" Director Jamison roared, storming up to the railing Ren and I were standing at. His hands rested on his hips as he glared angrily at the monitors.

The computer people below chattered back and forth furiously, their fingers flying as quickly as their words. The siren died out halfway through a wail, the red fading out and back to regular lighting.

"IP address shows apartment 313 at the Chalet Apartments!" a woman cried out from below. With the monitors back under control of the DLO, a gps signal honed in on the area, showing the building.

"That's only a few blocks from here," Ren announced. I stayed silent, having no clue where even the DLO building was located, or what it even looked like outside. "No need for a car, we'll just jog it." I laughed instantly at the notion.

"Jog?" I questioned rhetorically. "You may be able to, but I have the stamina of like, a Koala or something." I received a weird look from Ren. His arms were crossed now, and he cocked an eyebrow towards me.

"A Koala?"

"Yeah, y'know... Because they sleep a lot, and there's a substance in the leaves they eat that make them sluggish," I tried ratifying my statement, tilting my chin up.

"Uh huh," Ren responded slowly, his arms unfolding. "Suck it up, Buttercup. If I can get through a day without killing myself because of how dead I feel inside, you can jog a few blocks." I froze at his words, my career kicking in as I gently prodded into his mind. Not serious. Good. I looked for another reason to deny his statement, but found none, with a deep sigh, I relented.

"Fine, okay."

~~~

"How are you doing?" Ren questioned in a teasing tone as I sat against the side of the building. I was doubled and out of breath. Being next to Ren made me feel extremely out of shape. He wasn't breathing heavy. He wasn't even sweating. He just stood there with a knowing smirk that I really wanted to smack off his face.

"I want to choke you to death," I grumbled, wiping my hand across my forehead and pushing my hair back away from my face.

I was lucky that the city's weather control was set to a comfortably arid day. Every once and a while, a kid would pull the level, setting the weather to extremely cold or extremely hot and humid. I was honestly surprised the city hadn't locked up the boxes yet.

"Don't threaten me with a good time," Ren responded lightly, his attention turning behind him when the door of the building opened and a man walked outside.

"Excuse me, sir!" Ren called out to the man, jogging over to him. How is he still going? I groaned internally, heaving myself up from the pavement. I slowly made my way towards the two men that were now conversing.

"You live in this building?" Ren started off. The man paused, turning slightly towards Ren with a wary look.

"Yes, I do," he responded curtly, his eyes glancing over to me briefly.

"Can I ask what room is it that you stay in, if you don't mind me asking?" The man paused for a moment, his eyes darting between us before glancing down to Ren's hip. I followed him, finding a gun I didn't know he had. Oh god, he's going to think that we're going to rob him or something. But then he relaxed, his eyes going back to meet Ren's.

"Are you guys cops?" he asked, his voice becoming hopeful. Ren looked over to me, his eyes shining with excitement.

"Yeah, we're with the FBI." Ren brought his attention back to the man. The man seemed to sag in relief, his eyes widening as he pointed back into the building.

"I live in apartment 315, and I have this neighbor that I swear to god is doing illegal activity. He's so secretive. He never leaves his apartment. Never answers his door. He's really suspicious."

"We'll help in anyway we can," Ren reassured, touching the man's shoulder out of comfort. The man glanced over to the hand. My eyes narrowed as his smile stretched across his face, not reaching his eyes. Something isn't right.

I concentrated harder, trying to tap into his mind to see what was running through his mind. I couldn't hear anything. He was blocking me. He shouldn't know though. He wasn't looking at me. There's no possible way he knows. Why can't I hear his thoughts? Uncomfortableness set in. I looked away, squirming. I snagged my lip into my mouth, chewing on it as Ren parted ways with the guy they had been talking to.

"Lets go inside," Ren spoke, completely missing my state of being. I followed quietly behind him, trying to keep my mind from staying on the guy.

The place was outdated. The tiling was white, glimmering with the curling lights. The centers hem the bulbs, reflective circles seemingly floating outwards into a lotus shape. A spiral floating staircase wrapped around the elevator, lightings shining out from each step. The elevator was made of shear glass, the buttons rimmed in a bright metal that was even visible from the outside. There was no AI keeper at the front to help visitors.

We stepped into the elevator, the doors opening and closing without a sound around us. Numbers rested in a crisp, white font. Level 1: 1-50. Apartment numbers.

It continued on up, Ren reaching forward to press Level 3. The doors slid open with a series of beeps to alert people the ride had stopped.

Very similarly to the lobby, white tile covered the ground. The light fixtures remained the same, spaced evenly down the hall. We arrived at the apartment, a digital square above the door was lit up with the number 113.

I glanced to the doors next to it. 111 and 115. Two neighbors that lived beside a psychopath. I wondered how they felt. Were they uncomfortable? Did he chat the up? Were they friends? Or did he just keep to himself and keep a low profile. We would never know.

Bringing my gaze back to the door or apartment 113, I found it was a solid split wood door. A silver hatch crossed the middle. The screen on the bar was red, showing an unlocked padlock.

Ren looked towards me, reaching for the gun holstered at his hip. He turned the safety off, his finger laying along the side of the pressure trigger. I flexed my fingers, not having anything to grab for. He paused, sending me a sheepish smile.

"Remind me to get you trained for a gun." With that, he reached forward, grabbing the latch and pulling it forward. I prepared myself, ready to freeze anyone to not move. The doors parted with a slight kush, and the two of us rushed in.

Only to find the place empty.

Not empty as in no one was in there, I mean empty. Not trash. No furniture. Not a speck of dust.

Absolutely empty.

I shuddered at the bareness, dropping my mind as my eyes started scanning the room. Ren did the same, clicking the safety back on and tucking it back into his hip.

"I would have expected at least some hacking... hacker." Ren gestured vaguely in the air. "Stuff." I nodded in agreement, peeking into the bathroom. There was a simple, metallic, rounded rectangular shower that sat in an offset of the wall. A slick, black toilet sat shut, lights flickering where the buttons were. A simple, sheet of glass rested over a dark floating sink. The chrome of the waterfall faucet glimmered in the light.

"Jack Daniels!" Ren shouted from the other room. I paid no attention to him, continuing to scan over the room and mull to myself how cheap everything looked.

"Jacqueline!" Ren called out, causing me to whirl around.

"What?" I asked, irritation thick in my voice as I stepped away from the bathroom.

"You go by Jac, right?" I hummed in response. "Then respond when called to. You know. Jac. Jack Daniels. You get Jac Daniels." I glowered at him, stalking towards where he stood next to the window. 'Oh, god, I'm going to get hit.'

"I'm not going to hit you," I snapped. "What do you want them?" He glared back at me, and I remembered too late that he didn't like his mind being read.

He stayed quiet, jabbing a finger towards the windowsill. On the marble sat a flat disk no bigger than the new contact lens that allowed a person to see in the dark.

Ren pressed a finger in the middle, causing a light to beam up and form a screen. The screen went to play, a brief flash of color before it went black.

"What is this?" A voice came through. It was a man, and his voice rang in an older baritone.

"A paper," a voice responded clearly. It wasn't as deep as the older man, but sounded quieter and darker. I glanced at Ren next to me who seemed to listen to the conversation very closely.

"Is that who I think it is?" I whispered, not wanting to disturb his concentration for some reason. He nodded his head but said nothing.

"What's the purpose?" Questioned the older man. Paper rattling filled the audio.

"You won't remember by the time I'm done, so it doesn't matter." The audio cut off, the blackened video continuing to play for a few more minutes before stopping.

Ren picked up the disk, starting the watch on his wrist. He tapped the disk briefly on the watch, a file popping up instantly, beginning to play the video. There was a quick ding before a green checkmark slid across the holograph.

"I just sent the recording to headquarters for analyzing he explained to me quickly. I nodded in understanding, quickly distracting myself by looking around the room. Within seconds his watch dinged again.

This time, I sidled closer to him, looking at the screen. A picture of an old man pulled up. Xavier Dutchman. Age 72.

"There's his address," Ren pointed to the address. I recognized the street, knowing the general area of his residences. "That's across the city from here."

"We are not walking there," I answered instantly, sending a look towards Ren. He sighed dramatically.

"Yeah, yeah."