I've been spending my time mixed between searching for homes within Zion's space in the Real and wondering at just how long this Peace will last. Of course, I'm being reminded that due to certain Merovingian operatives -- Red Pills employed by the Exiles -- there is plenty more work to get done before I am finished.
I'm still tired. I'm still exhausted of this. Still, the System needs its resources. Ronin. Systematic Chaos. Likwid Hyuzu. Silent Shadows. The Initiative. Hell, even Reviled Restoration despite their Cypherite ties. I briefly thought as they did and while my agenda runs parallels, I feel it's appropriate that I reside where I do.
I'm borrowing access to the Matrix via a Zion hoverbarge, but that's only because once I'm in there is no way to distinguish that the dark-haired, green-eyes fellow Jacked In next to you is the same green machine pointing a Bedlam up to your temple in a threatening manner. I may live in Zion, but that's all for the flesh outside. I'm here -- on the inside -- to carry out Machine business...
One more time.
For Agent Pace, sh*tloads of operatives would do a Hell of a lot more than see to the correction of their own errors. Of course I expect that I'll be assigned to Special Agents Purcell or Spearing as more information is forthcoming. Still, the issue at hand is not their problem despite the risks they pose. It's my problem. It's my *CENSORED* problem.
She's curt with me. I guess that's the kind of charm I have with the ladies. I wonder why they're all curt with me. Pace, Tytanya. Hell, even my conversation with the Oracle was a mere "Thanks for helping my friend to restore his missing code." I can understand Tytanya's aggression. I've tested her Emergency Jackout Procedures a few times. Still, that doesn't explain Pace. Maybe her mind's still on Ghost. Feh. Greetings, Rosapillore. I'm uploading to your PDA the last known location of the simulacra.
Fun. It's here in International. Hitting a bit closer to home than I'd like to imagine. I prefer keeping business Downtown or out in the Slums. It's not very far, but I'm going to need to take out the Surveillance. First, I'm going to need a d*mn Hardline. I need my equipment. Alot of good a PDA and a Lancet will do with all of the mercenaries running around out here. Perhaps once I've ran out of bullets I can toss the PDA at their head as if it were a neurodart.
A bit more like it.
A decent workout. I have a feeling I'm in need of that warm-up, too. The Program has attained a dysfunctional level of intelligence since taking damage back in Camon Heights. She's operating beyond her parameters and seemingly against us. She's becoming a nuissance, excelling in proving my inability to keep tabs on all of my affairs. You create a sim to hack systems while you're away and it turns out hacking exactly what it shouldn't have any part in. Such is the nature of a hacker, I suppose. Of course hackers questions not being allowed a certain task; it makes them want it that much more.
Fine. I'll find it. I'll kill it.
It should be somewhere around Akasaka.