The knock wasn't loud.
Just three sharp taps.
Too calm.
Riven froze mid-build, gauntlet still strapped to his wrist, sparks dying out on the workbench. His tiny apartment had one entrance. One way in. And he never got visitors.
"They found me already?"
Another knock. This time slower.
He killed the lights.
Silence.
He moved to the door, HUD display flickering inside his retina. Thermal scan active. One figure. Standing still. No weapon drawn.
But posture? Military. Balanced. Trained.
"This ain't a delivery guy."
Riven slid on a hoodie to hide the gauntlet and cracked the door open two inches.
The man on the other side smiled—sharp, clean, corporate.
"Riven Kade?"
"…Who's asking?"
"Just someone who appreciates… potential."
A pause.
"You've been busy. That drone mod? Very impressive. So's the glove. Mind if we talk?"
Riven's eyes narrowed.
He knows everything.That means cameras. Logs. Surveillance I didn't see.No way this guy's alone.
"I'm not interested," Riven said flatly.
"You sure?" The man leaned closer, voice dropping. "Because someone else will be. And they won't knock."
Then he turned and walked off like it was a casual visit. No threats. No fight.
But Riven's gut screamed.
This was just the first scout.
He shut the door. Locked it.
Then turned back to his workbench and whispered:
"I need more firepower."