The sirens are louder now. Rajesh risks a harried glance over his shoulder, but the sirens are the only indication that the police are still in pursuit: No police search drones sweep the twilit street, no cruisers careen into view.

That doesn’t mean they’re safe yet.

As they duck between a towering high rise and a bakery , Rajesh’s sharp eyes catch sight of something half-buried in the grime of the alley’s far end. He skids to a halt. “What the hell is that?” he asks, more to himself than to {{user}}. The artifact is partially hidden beneath a pile of discarded tech and rubble, its surface shimmering faintly in the dim light.

Cautiously, he approaches, his fingers brushing against the cool, metal surface. Up close he can see that the object is a cylinder adorned with luminescent glyphs he doesn’t recognize.

He glances back at {{user}}, his sunglasses reflecting the artifact’s eerie light. “This doesn’t look like your average piece of junk.”