Differences

This shows you the differences between two versions of the page.

Link to this comparison view

canon:ace1:chapter20 [21/02/2026 19:22] – luotu - ulkoinen muokkaus 127.0.0.1canon:ace1:chapter20 [17/03/2026 17:02] (current) – kkurzex
Line 1: Line 1:
 +[[https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FK447M6P|{{ :ace-mai:ace_1_-_the_demon_huntress_v2.png?400|}}]]
 +<nodisp>
 +===== Ace & Mai – The Shadow and The Spark =====
 +==== Ace 1: The Demon Huntress — Chapter 20 – Anchor Theft ====
 +**Story:** Ace & Mai – The Shadow and The Spark  
 +**Chapter:** 1.20  
 +**Wordcount:** ~1610  
 +**Characters:** Ace, Mai, Bright  
 +**Location:** Harbor district  
 +**Arc:** Arc 1 – The Shadow and The Spark
 +----
 +</nodisp>
 +=== Chapter 20: Anchor Theft ===
 +
 +
 +
 +For a heartbeat, the room held its breath.
 +
 +
 +Mai lay still.
 +
 +
 +The medical monitor blinked like it was bored of human drama.
 +
 +
 +Bright’s hand clamped Ace’s wrist hard enough to bruise—grounding through force, because there wasn’t time for gentle.
 +
 +
 +Ace’s shadow-pressure aura trembled at the edge of eruption. Not outward violence, not murder-lust—something colder: an absolute refusal that wanted to make the environment pay attention.
 +
 +
 +The ceiling speaker clicked again, same woman’s voice, calm and clinical.
 +
 +
 +“Reduce stimulus. Do not escalate.”
 +
 +
 +Bright’s eyes went to the speaker like he could shoot it with anger. “Who is this.”
 +
 +
 +The voice didn’t answer the question. “Dr. Bright, you are interfering with calibration.”
 +
 +
 +Bright’s jaw tightened. “You are drugging an injured agent without medical authorization.”
 +
 +
 +A pause. Then: “Medical authorization exists.”
 +
 +
 +Bright barked a short laugh, humorless. “From who? Your imaginary committee?”
 +
 +
 +Ace’s fingers tightened around her own sternum as if her body was the only lock left in the world that couldn’t be overridden.
 +
 +
 +Mai’s breathing stayed deep. Too deep. Heavy as ocean sleep.
 +
 +
 +Ace’s voice came out low, controlled, frighteningly calm. “Wake her.”
 +
 +
 +Bright didn’t hesitate. He moved to the IV, pinched the line, and shut the valve with a sharp twist.
 +
 +
 +The monitor beeped once, registering the change.
 +
 +
 +The ceiling speaker snapped, sharper now. “Do not—”
 +
 +
 +Bright cut it off. “Watch me.”
 +
 +
 +Ace felt the three-beat pulse in her ribs spike—one strong beat, then the familiar pattern tried to reassert itself.
 +
 +
 +Violet behind the lock pressed forward, delighted.
 +
 +
 +Alone, Violet whispered. They want you alone. You could be so much more without the leash—
 +
 +
 +Ace clenched her jaw. “Shut up.”
 +
 +
 +Bright didn’t hear Violet, but he heard Ace’s voice. He looked at her sharply. “Talk to me.”
 +
 +
 +Ace’s eyes stayed on Mai. “I’m holding.”
 +
 +
 +Bright nodded once. “Good.”
 +
 +
 +The door opened hard.
 +
 +
 +The medic rushed in, eyes wide, half a second from asking a question—
 +
 +
 +—and stopped when they saw Bright’s expression.
 +
 +
 +Bright spoke in a voice that made people obey even if they hated him. “Antagonist. Now.”
 +
 +
 +The medic blinked. “What—”
 +
 +
 +Bright: “Reverse the sedation. Now.”
 +
 +
 +The medic swallowed, looked at Mai’s monitor, then at the IV line that Bright had shut. “Who authorized—”
 +
 +
 +Bright snapped, “Not you. Not me. Not her. So you can either fix it, or you can be the person who watched it happen.”
 +
 +
 +The medic’s face went tight.
 +
 +
 +They moved.
 +
 +
 +Syringe. Ampoule. Injection into the port. Quick, practiced, angry hands.
 +
 +
 +Ace stood at Mai’s bedside like a guardian statue carved from hostility.
 +
 +
 +The ceiling speaker clicked again.
 +
 +
 +The woman’s voice was colder now, and there was something almost satisfied in it.
 +
 +
 +“Subject A emotional response escalating,” it said. “Noted.”
 +
 +
 +Bright’s head snapped toward the speaker. “Stop recording her like she’s a lab rat.”
 +
 +
 +The voice replied, unbothered. “She is a lab rat. She is also a bomb. The distinction is irrelevant.”
 +
 +
 +Ace’s aura surged.
 +
 +
 +Bright’s hand shot out again—this time to Ace’s shoulder, firm, grounding. “Ace.”
 +
 +
 +Ace inhaled, forced air in and out like sandpaper. Not their rhythm.
 +
 +
 +Her rhythm.
 +
 +
 +The medic spoke quickly, voice tight. “Reversal agent administered. It’ll take—thirty seconds, maybe a minute.”
 +
 +
 +Ace leaned down, close to Mai’s face, voice low and fierce. “Mai. Wake up.”
 +
 +
 +Mai didn’t move.
 +
 +
 +The room felt wrong.
 +
 +
 +Not supernatural wrong.
 +
 +
 +Operational wrong.
 +
 +
 +Like someone had turned the platform into a stage and was waiting for the actors to deliver the right line.
 +
 +
 +Bright’s eyes flicked to the door, then to the corridor beyond it, then back to the ceiling speaker.
 +
 +
 +He spoke softly to Ace, barely moving his lips. “They’re pushing you.”
 +
 +
 +Ace’s eyes didn’t leave Mai. “I know.”
 +
 +
 +Bright continued, quieter. “They want you to crack. They want to see what happens when the anchor is suppressed.”
 +
 +
 +Ace’s voice was low. “They’re about to see what happens when they touch her.”
 +
 +
 +Bright’s jaw tightened. “That’s the line. Don’t cross it blindly.”
 +
 +
 +Ace’s gaze flicked to him—one sharp glance. “Then give me another move.”
 +
 +
 +Bright didn’t have an immediate answer.
 +
 +
 +Because there wasn’t a clean one.
 +
 +
 +The platform belonged to the Foundation.
 +
 +
 +The guards belonged to the Foundation.
 +
 +
 +The memetics cell belonged to the Foundation.
 +
 +
 +And the moment Ace and Bright turned this into open violence, they’d be contained “for their own safety” so fast the lights would blur.
 +
 +
 +They were trapped inside the body of the organization, and the body was having an autoimmune reaction.
 +
 +
 +Mai’s fingers twitched.
 +
 +
 +Ace’s heart jumped.
 +
 +
 +The monitor’s waveforms shifted—faster, lighter.
 +
 +
 +Mai’s eyelids fluttered.
 +
 +
 +Ace leaned closer. “Mai.”
 +
 +
 +Mai’s eyes opened.
 +
 +
 +For half a second, they were unfocused, drug-heavy, trying to remember where the world was.
 +
 +
 +Then they locked onto Ace’s face.
 +
 +
 +And the fog in Mai’s eyes burned away like it had never existed.
 +
 +
 +Mai’s voice came out rough. “What—did—”
 +
 +
 +She inhaled, sharp, then winced as ribs screamed.
 +
 +
 +Ace’s hand moved instantly, gentle but firm on Mai’s shoulder, keeping her from jerking upright too fast. “Stay.”
 +
 +
 +Mai’s eyes narrowed, scanning the room. Bright. Medic. The closed door. The tension like a wire.
 +
 +
 +Then her gaze snapped to the ceiling speaker.
 +
 +
 +Mai’s voice went deadly calm. “Who’s talking.”
 +
 +
 +Bright answered quickly, controlled. “Memetics cell. Calibration. They adjusted your sedation without authorization.”
 +
 +
 +Mai didn’t move for a beat.
 +
 +
 +Then something changed in her face.
 +
 +
 +Not anger.
 +
 +
 +Not shock.
 +
 +
 +A kind of quiet, precise violence—the tactical mind deciding the rules had broken, and therefore the rules no longer applied.
 +
 +
 +Mai’s eyes shifted to Bright. “Repeat.”
 +
 +
 +Bright did. “They drugged you deeper. To suppress you as an anchor. To observe Ace.”
 +
 +
 +Mai’s gaze returned to the ceiling speaker.
 +
 +
 +Mai’s voice was soft enough to be terrifying. “Turn it off.”
 +
 +
 +The voice in the speaker replied, calm. “Agent Mai, your emotional state is—”
 +
 +
 +Mai cut it off. “Turn. It. Off.”
 +
 +
 +The medic took a half-step back, instinctively.
 +
 +
 +Ace watched Mai like she was watching a blade being drawn—beautiful, dangerous, controlled.
 +
 +
 +Bright’s jaw clenched. “Mai, we need—”
 +
 +
 +Mai lifted a hand, palm outward—stop. Not to Bright. To everyone.
 +
 +
 +Mai’s eyes stayed on the speaker. “Ace.”
 +
 +
 +Ace’s head turned slightly. “Yeah.”
 +
 +
 +Mai’s voice was low and clean. “How bad.”
 +
 +
 +Ace swallowed. “They entered my dream. Called me ‘vessel.’ Ran a stimulus test. Simulated you.”
 +
 +
 +Mai’s eyes narrowed, like a sniper finding the center mass of a problem. “And you held.”
 +
 +
 +Ace nodded once. “I held.”
 +
 +
 +Mai’s jaw tightened. “Good.”
 +
 +
 +The ceiling speaker clicked again, the voice more urgent now. “Agents. You are escalating. Stand down.”
 +
 +
 +Mai smiled.
 +
 +
 +Not warm.
 +
 +
 +Not friendly.
 +
 +
 +A smile you gave when someone had just admitted they didn’t understand what they’d provoked.
 +
 +
 +“You escalated first,” Mai said softly. “By touching my bloodstream.”
 +
 +
 +The speaker voice paused, then resumed with new calm. “Your sedation was within safe parameters.”
 +
 +
 +Mai’s smile didn’t change. “That’s not the parameter you should be measuring.”
 +
 +
 +Mai turned her head slowly to Bright. “Do we have a comms uplink they can’t piggyback.”
 +
 +
 +Bright hesitated half a second—then nodded. “Yes. Hardline in the service spine. Limited access. No platform-wide routing.”
 +
 +
 +Mai’s eyes sharpened. “Good. We’re making a report.”
 +
 +
 +Bright blinked. “Report?”
 +
 +
 +Mai’s smile sharpened. “Oh yes.”
 +
 +
 +Ace’s heart rate rose—not the three-beat hook, but a flicker of relief. Because Mai wasn’t going to start a hallway war.
 +
 +
 +Mai was going to do something worse.
 +
 +
 +Mai was going to make it official.
 +
 +
 +Mai looked at Ace. “We’re documenting every violation. Every time stamp. Every override. And then we’re sending it to people who don’t like memetics playing God.”
 +
 +
 +Bright’s eyes narrowed. “You have someone in mind.”
 +
 +
 +Mai’s gaze went cold. “Several.”
 +
 +
 +The ceiling speaker crackled, the woman’s voice smoother now, almost coaxing. “Agent Mai, please remain calm. Your cooperation improves outcomes.”
 +
 +
 +Mai turned back to the speaker. Her voice dropped to a whisper that carried anyway.
 +
 +
 +“You want cooperation?” Mai said. “Here’s cooperation.”
 +
 +
 +She reached for her disruptor—not aiming it at the speaker, not firing.
 +
 +
 +She simply placed it on the bed beside her, visible.
 +
 +
 +A gesture of deliberate restraint.
 +
 +
 +Then she reached up and slowly, carefully, pulled the IV line out of her arm.
 +
 +
 +The medic flinched. “Mai—”
 +
 +
 +Mai held up a finger. “Don’t.”
 +
 +
 +Blood beaded, small and bright.
 +
 +
 +Mai pressed gauze to it without looking.
 +
 +
 +Then she looked at the ceiling speaker and said, with absolute calm:
 +
 +
 +“You drugged me without consent. That makes you an adversary. Offshore rules change when there’s an adversary inside the hull.”
 +
 +
 +Ace’s chest tightened.
 +
 +
 +Bright’s gaze sharpened.
 +
 +
 +Because Mai had just invoked the same logic they used against external threats.
 +
 +
 +She’d shifted memetics from “internal department” to hostile actor.
 +
 +
 +The speaker’s voice went very quiet.
 +
 +
 +“You are making a mistake,” it said.
 +
 +
 +Mai’s smile faded completely.
 +
 +
 +“No,” Mai said softly. “You made it first.”
 +
 +
 +Mai swung her legs off the bed despite pain, stood slowly, and faced the door like she owned the corridor beyond it.
 +
 +
 +Ace moved to her side without thinking—close enough to be a shield, close enough to be seen.
 +
 +
 +Bright looked between them, then nodded once.
 +
 +
 +“Service spine,” Bright said.
 +
 +
 +Mai’s voice was calm. “And Bright?”
 +
 +
 +“Yes.”
 +
 +
 +Mai’s eyes were ice. “If anyone tries to sedate me again, I’ll treat it as an assault.”
 +
 +
 +Bright didn’t argue.
 +
 +
 +He simply said, “Understood.”
 +
 +
 +The ceiling speaker clicked again, and the woman’s voice returned—still calm, but now edged.
 +
 +
 +“You are not authorized to leave your quarters.”
 +
 +
 +Mai looked up at the speaker like it was a bug on the ceiling.
 +
 +
 +Then she said, almost conversationally:
 +
 +
 +“Watch us.”
 +
 +
 +Ace felt Violet behind the lock purr in delight—not because Mai was in danger.
 +
 +
 +Because Mai was awake.
 +
 +
 +And awake Mai meant the game had changed.
 +
 +
 +The anchor had been stolen.
 +
 +
 +They’d tried to take it.
 +
 +
 +Instead, they’d sharpened it.
 +
 +<- canon:ace1:chapter19 ^ :homepage ^ :canon:ace1:chapter21 ->