Harley Ferris - Energie 1 -

"I just reported a catastrophic transformer failure," Harley said, turning back toward the rain. "The grid will show zero consumption for this sector for the next forty-eight hours while they 'investigate.' After that, you’d better be gone." "Why help me?"

Harley stopped at the door, the neon light of Energie 1 reflecting in his synthetic iris. "Because sometimes the dark is the only place where things actually get done."

In this city, power wasn't just a utility—it was the only currency that didn’t lose value overnight. And Harley was the best collector in the business. Harley Ferris - Energie 1

A mission involving a high-stakes heist in the Upper Spires.

Harley walked toward him, his metal hand glinting under the strobing lights. "The Syndicate doesn't do payment plans. They do shut-offs." "I just reported a catastrophic transformer failure," Harley

Harley reached the heavy pressurized door of the warehouse. He didn't knock. He tapped a sequence into his wrist-comm, sending a surge through the lock’s mag-seal. The door hissed open, revealing a cavernous room glowing with the sickly green light of overclocked servers.

Harley paused. He looked at the diagnostic screens. Jax wasn't just mining coin; he was routing extra voltage to the nearby veteran clinics. It was a classic Robin Hood play in a city that usually hung heroes by their own capes. "You’re a terrible businessman, Jax," Harley muttered. And Harley was the best collector in the business

He reached into his trench coat, but instead of pulling his pulse-pistol, he withdrew a small, jagged bypass chip. He slammed it into the primary terminal. The screens flickered, then turned a steady, calm blue. "What did you do?" Jax whispered.