Faultline // Signal Unstable

Filed by Havoc, who wonders what other passtimes survived the Rift.

Yesterday's field excursion took us to one of humanity's oldest surviving recreational traditions: bowling.

I'm pleased to report the facility remains structurally intact.

The social dynamics... less so.

One of the younger Scraps managed to vaporize nearly ten credits worth of arcade tokens in record time, prompting an emotional systems failure from his friend. Current theory suggests adolescence temporarily lowers processor stability. Meanwhile, one of the adults appeared to be experiencing her own emotional meltdown.

Bowling itself lasted approximately one game before every juvenile Scrap in the building collectively decided flashing lights and arcade machines were a superior use of their time.

The most entertaining development, however, had nothing to do with bowling.

Haze and two of his friends have self-appointed themselves as "relationship engineers" and have launched an operation to convince two other Scraps that they belong together. One participant appears completely unaware she is being flirted with, while the other continues making earnest attempts to communicate. The engineering team has declared the mission ongoing. Zip sat on the sidelines, rolling his eyes and muttering something about how his Spygle would make this all so much easier.

Still... Odds of success remain... surprisingly favorable.

Now, we all sit down at Scraps HQ and have some delicious Hot Pot.

Sometimes it's laughing at teenagers who don't realize they're being matchmade, eating good soup, and being grateful for ordinary days.

Filed by Havoc, Professional Magnet for Questionable Civilian Behavior.

Stopped by Borderland for a snack.

While transferring a neon green liquid into my travel cup, I noticed a civilian watching me.

Not once. Not twice.

Every pass. Every reflection.

Maybe he thought he knew me. Maybe he didn't.

Maybe LuxNet's facial recognition is getting lazy and outsourcing surveillance to civilians now. This is exactly why I got ID guard sunglasses.

Either way, I wasn't sticking around long enough to find out.

I proceeded to Zap & Go for the weekly provisions.

New anomaly detected!

Located an empty sector of the lot. One occupied transport. Plenty of clearance. Wouldn't you know it though... within moments, three additional civilian transports converged on my position despite dozens of vacant spaces nearby.

Statistical probability: questionable.

LuxNet probability: ...also questionable.

Mission was interrupted before supplies could be secured.

// PRIORITY OVERRIDE //

Midway through the Zap & Go supply raid, Gadget intercepted an encrypted distress ping from Synth.

Diagnostics indicated a systems malfunction.

Current objective abandoned.

Redirecting transport for immediate extraction.

Supplies can be recovered later.

Crew comes first.

// EXTRACTION REPORT //

Arrived at the rendezvous point.

Synth presented with system instability, diminished coloration, elevated fatigue, and evidence of a neurological event.

Emergency provisions and hydration initiated.

Vitals stabilized during transport.

By the time we reached base, primary symptoms had largely resolved.

// MISSION RESUMED //

With the crew safely returned to base, supply acquisition resumed.

Returned to Zap & Go.

Provisions secured.

Advanced to the Macromart Hypernode and acquired the remaining necessities.

// TRAFFIC ADVISORY //

Civilian driving standards continue their rapid decline.

Observed multiple operators exhibiting an incomplete understanding of stops, lane management, and the generally accepted concept of "stay in your own lane."

Recommend increased defensive driving protocols until further notice.

// MISSION STATUS //

Primary objective: Complete.

Crew: Accounted for.

Supplies: Secured.

Coffee: Consumed.

Civilian behavior: Still weird.

LuxNet surveillance: Unconfirmed... but suspiciously enthusiastic.

Returning to Scraps HQ.

Filed by Havoc, who is currently lamenting the fact that her drink is gone.

In other news...

I did something completely out of character and went to Aurora Roasters.

Normally, it's a little too polished for my taste. Too many people ordering drinks with names longer than a hoverbike warranty.

...But they're the only place in the city that carries butterfly pea concentrate and pineapple mango popping pearls.

So... priorities. (Honestly, you know if Octavia carried it, I'd go there instead.)

After extensive field testing, I can officially confirm that Violet Havoc v2 has entered full deployment.

Violet Havoc v2 🦋 Tropical Butterfly Pea Flower Refresher 🍑 Light peach juice 🍋 Light lemonade 🍦 Sugar-free vanilla syrup  • Grande: 2 pumps  • Trenta: 4 pumps 🫧 Pineapple Mango popping pearls  • Grande: 2 scoops  • Trenta: 3 scoops

The extra vanilla was the missing piece.

Version 1 was good.

Version 2 is dangerous.

I ordered the largest size they had because I couldn't stop thinking about it after the first one.

I have no regrets.

Well... maybe one.

Now I have to explain why the anti-corporate girl keeps voluntarily walking into Aurora.

The answer is simple.

Sometimes the enemy has the good snacks.

Filed by Havoc, who is currently glad she carries a filter mask.

The smoke rolled in before sunrise. They said the fire beyond the western forests was "mostly contained." The horizon disagrees.

Everything outside has that strange gray filter that makes the world feel... buffered. The trees fade into the haze. The air smells burnt. Hell, even the sunlight looks tired.

People are still going to work, still arguing in parking lots. Still pretending this is just another day.

Maybe that's resilience.

Maybe it's denial.

Filed by Havoc, who is currently operating with fewer parts than she started the day with.

Ravel owes me. Or more likely, I actually owe him.

A few weeks ago he handed me a data chip with a name and an address scribbled across the back.

"Tell Annie I sent you."

Now, in my experience, anyone recommended by the Midnight Market falls into one of two categories:

Brilliant.

Wanted in at least three districts.

Sometimes both.

The clinic was tucked between a synth-parts dealer and a tea vendor in one of those side streets that somehow exists in three different districts depending on who you ask.

The sign simply read:

ANNIE SMITH

No credentials. No certifications. No explanation.

Just Annie Smith.

I should have left... instead, I walked in.

The clinic itself was unremarkable. No flashing signs. No glowing advertisements. Just a door, a waiting area, and a technician assistant, a lovely girl named Ga-Bb3, who took one look at my diagnostics and informed me that two components had exceeded their useful lifespan. I was then instructed to wait for Annie.

An hour later I was staring at a tray containing two pieces of defective hardware that had apparently been causing half my recent system errors.

Annie looked at the tray, then at me, then back at the tray.

She muttered, "You should've come in months ago."

Which is exactly what you want to hear after somebody has removed parts of you.

Current status:

Missing two components.

Face still partially offline.

Living exclusively on tea, broth, and poor decisions.

Mildly offended that recovery requires resting instead of dramatic rooftop activities.

Ravel insists Annie Smith is the best technician in East Verge.

Unfortunately, the evidence supports his argument.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have been instructed to rest, hydrate, and avoid doing anything stupid.

Which feels like an unrealistic expectation.