"The ," Jax muttered. "Everything they stole from us. The master keys to the city’s power grid, the encrypted black sites, and every offshore account tied to the Council."

On the table sat a battered data-shard. He’d spent three months in the digital trenches of the Corporate Core to get it.

"Is that it?" Lyra whispered, sliding into the booth. She didn't look at the shard; she looked at the door.

He tapped a command on his wrist comm. A progress bar appeared in his vision, glowing gold against the grime of the bar.