Shattered Gate: The SSS-Rank Mirror Inheritance

With the boards secured, Reid found himself with a day wide open—and no plan for the next move. Instead of wandering aimlessly, he decided to pay a visit to a certain contact, an older teen named Jacky who worked in an electronics junk store. She was known to fence items on the side if the risk was right. Perhaps she had a safer buyer. The only question was whether she'd demand a large cut for the introduction.

The store was in District Four, a minor improvement from Five, but still a slum by any standard. He hopped on an old bus—cost him precious coins, but walking all the way was risky. The bus smelled of engine oil and stale sweat. Half the seats were torn, and the driver looked half-asleep behind the wheel. Typical day in the outskirts.

He got off at a corner, ignoring the stares of a few suspicious pedestrians. Some wore coats with hidden lumps, probably weapons. Gangs of various allegiances lingered near corners, but Stonefang territory was primarily in District Five, so maybe he'd be safe here. Another short walk brought him to Marvello's Tech—a cramped storefront jammed between a pawn shop and a shuttered butcher.

Inside, a musty odor of ozone and burnt plastic assaulted his senses. Shelves overflowed with battered monitors, old circuit boards, half-assembled appliances. A short figure with electric-green hair hunched over a workbench near the back. She wore heavy goggles even though the overhead light was dim.

"Jacky?" Reid called quietly.

She lifted her goggles, revealing a pale face smudged with grease. "Oh. You. Thought I told you not to bother me unless you had something worthwhile." Her tone was dismissive, but her eyes flickered with curiosity.

Reid approached, hands in his hoodie pockets. "I do. It's a big salvage haul. High-grade boards. But there's a catch." He didn't want to mention Stonefang or the fiasco last night outright. "I need a buyer who'll keep it quiet."

Jacky snorted. "Quiet costs extra." She resumed tinkering with a circuit, soldering iron in hand. Sparks flew. "Let's see the merchandise."

Reid rubbed his neck. "I, uh, don't have it on me. Too risky. I stashed it." He hesitated, not sure how much to reveal. "It's from a specialized hardware batch, might be from military surplus or something. High value."

Jacky frowned, setting the iron down. "You come to me empty-handed, expecting me to trust your word? That's not how business works. I want a sample or a direct inspection before I commit."

Reid suppressed a groan. "I'm telling you, it's legit. But Stonefang might be sniffing around. That's reason enough to—"

"Stonefang?" Jacky's eyes widened, then narrowed. "You better not be leading them here. I've already got enough troubles with the local gangs."

A wave of guilt hit him. "I'm not. I lost them last night. But they might guess I'd look for a new buyer, so who knows. Look, do you know anyone who deals in hush-hush tech? Maybe the Redwood Connection?"

Jacky's lip curled at the mention of Redwood, an elusive group rumored to handle everything from black-market pharmaceuticals to advanced tech smuggling. "They're not cheap. They'll demand half your cut just for the introduction, then more on top. You'll be lucky to walk away with thirty percent."

Better than nothing, he reasoned. At least Redwood had enough muscle to discourage Stonefang from interfering. "I'll take it," he said finally. "Can you set it up?"

She shrugged. "I'll make a call. But let me be clear, if any of this goes sideways, I'm not risking my life. I'll say I don't know you." She pointed at him with a gloved finger. "Got it?"

Reid nodded. "Got it."

Jacky flicked her goggles down and resumed her tinkering, leaving him feeling oddly dismissed. "Come back tomorrow morning with one of those boards. I'll see if Redwood's interested."

One board? That meant going back to the container in District Five tonight or early tomorrow, risking an encounter with Stonefang. He swallowed hard, bracing for the possibility. "Fine. Thanks," he said stiffly.

He took the bus back to District Five in late afternoon, scanning every passenger carefully. No obvious Stonefang presence, though the feeling of being watched never left him.

While drifting through the stalls, a strange tension built in his chest. Suddenly, a small commotion broke out ahead. Two men started arguing in front of a produce cart. One accused the other of short-changing him. Tempers flared. Fists flew. The bystanders quickly backed off. A scuffle was normal in these parts.

But for Reid, the sight of violence triggered memories from last night. His pulse spiked, half expecting the Shattered Gate to awaken. Yet nothing happened. This was not his fight. Not his conflict. He hurried away before it could escalate further.

Despite the tension, nothing else dramatic occurred that evening. He drifted back to Zorio's Repairs by dusk, locking himself in his closet-room. Collapsing onto the cot, he stared at the ceiling once more, replaying all the potential pitfalls. Redwood. Stonefang. The Shattered Gate.

[Host remains restless. Doubt corrodes the will to act.]

The voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. He sat up abruptly, goose bumps rising along his arms. "Stop reading my mind," he murmured.

No answer. Only the faint sense that the presence was still there, intangible and half-asleep. "Stupid System," he muttered. "Tomorrow, I get the boards. Then Redwood. Then maybe I can breathe."

With that vow, he tried to rest, though sleep came slowly.

-----

Early morning light found Reid already on his feet, stuffing a small rucksack with essentials. His plan was to grab a single board, deliver it to Jacky, and pray Redwood sealed a deal.

He slipped out of Zorio's Repairs, moving with forced casualness and reached the old train yard. Rust crunched under his sneakers as he crept toward the container.

Inside, amidst the dust and decay, the salvaged boards lay undisturbed. He selected a prime piece, wrapping it carefully, the silence broken only by his own shallow breaths. As he stood, hefting the board, a faint crunch echoed outside – gravel shifting.

Ice water flooded his veins. He killed the flashlight and pressed against the cold metal wall. The footsteps stopped, then resumed, heavy and deliberate. This wasn't some random scavenger.

"Think he's actually dumb enough to come back here?" a rough voice rumbled, closer now.

"Gotta be. Boss's orders are clear - those boards are priority one. And Junior wants them personally." Another voice, laced with impatience.

Junior? Reid's blood ran cold. That meant Kargan, Stonefang's leader's notoriously brutal son. Why would someone like him be personally involved in some scrap circuit boards? Something was very wrong.

He peeked through a gap in the container door. Three figures materialized from behind a stack of crates, moving with predatory confidence. The first was bulky, scarred, familiar. The second was leaner, coiled energy radiating off him. But it was the figure in the center that made Reid's breath hitch. Taller, broader than the others, with a cruel smirk playing on his lips. Kargan. The leader's son himself, and he looked like he was enjoying the hunt.

"He'll be back for these scraps," Kargan drawled, kicking a loose stone. "Father's got a buyer breathing down our necks for them. Apparently, one of the boards should have the coordinate. Find the brat, break him, and bring me the goods."

Reid's heart hammered against his ribs. Buyer? Coordinate? This was escalating far beyond a simple mugging. He glanced around desperately. No escape.

He moved to the door's edge, heart hammering. He could hear them drawing closer, their footsteps crunching on the gravel. This time, he wouldn't just rely on defense.

He inhaled, focusing his intent, and kicked the container door open with a thunderous clang.

Three heads snapped in his direction. Kargan's eyes narrowed with cold fury. "There! Get him!"

Reid sprinted, adrenaline flooding his senses. He weaved between train cars, each breath a ragged gasp. Behind him, heavy footsteps pounded closer.

He risked a glance back. Kargan was leading the charge, his face contorted with rage.

A derelict coach car loomed. Reid dove inside, plunging into shadow. He raced through the gutted interior, leaping over debris. His lungs burned, the circuit board a leaden weight, but he couldn't stop.

A monstrous silhouette filled the far doorway of the coach. It was Kargan.

"Damn!" Reid cursed. How had they gotten ahead of him?

"Get him," Kargan shouted. His two men charged, but the leader's son did something unexpected. His frame expanded visibly, muscles bulging, bones audibly creaking. He grew taller, broader, his leather jacket straining at the seams. A primal roar ripped from his throat, and his eyes glowed with a reddish light.

Reid stumbled back, momentarily stunned. Powers? This gang leader's son was Awakened? Shit. This was much, much worse than random thugs.

Kargan advanced, his larger frame filling the narrow corridor, a fist the size of Reid's head cocked back. Reid instinctively raised his right arm, a desperate, silent plea echoing in his mind: Shattered Gate… NOW!

A surge of raw energy ripped through him, not subtle this time, but violent and immediate. And then it erupted. Not a gentle bracer, but a shield of fractured light solidified around his arm, shards of mirror-glass crackling with visible energy.

Kargan's fist slammed into the shimmering barrier. The impact was deafening, the coach car shuddering. But instead of bone-crushing force, a roar of displaced energy echoed. Kargan's fist recoiled violently as if striking an invisible wall. He staggered back a full step, eyes widening in shock. The force of the deflection was so potent, it threw him off balance.

Behind Kargan, the other thugs stumbled back, caught in the backlash of displaced force. Even Reid felt the impact resonate through his arm, but it was strangely numbing, not painful.

Then, the virtual manual flashed in his mind, clearer, bolder than before: [Aspect: Mirror's Touch. Function: Deflects physical force with amplified rebound.]