Saints in a Chip

Two days left before his mission ended.

Jude skipped breakfast, not bothering to wait or explain himself to Lazaro, Lucy, or Patrick. The hell inside his mind gnawed at him, and he set off on a walk, hoping the open air would clear his head.

The night had been long and restless, leaving him with two unsettling conclusions. Somewhere, the Arena held the answers he needed. But when he consulted the map, the truth hit hard. He was nowhere near unlocking it. E10 and E11 were still out of reach, and he had only gotten as far as AJ8.

Each level-up seemed to demand more from him, and the pace at which he'd been progressing meant one thing—he needed to level up three times. And with only two days remaining, that seemed impossible.

Jude wandered aimlessly around the gas station, his thoughts spinning. The roads stretched out, deserted, with not a single car in sight. There were no people, no activity. It was just like a still picture that had something unperceivable wrong with it.

The more he thought about it, the more hopeless it seemed. His mission felt doomed, slipping further away with each passing minute unless, somehow, Len woke up and gave him the answers he needed. Failure seemed inevitable.

The worst-case scenario gnawed at the back of his mind—asking for an extension. He could almost see it, the shame of admitting defeat. And what about Marta?

“What are you doing?”

Jude snapped out of his thoughts and turned to see Lazaro approaching.

“Nothing. Just… thinking,” Jude muttered, trying to shake off the frustration clinging to him.

Lazaro raised an eyebrow. “Thinking, huh?”

"I’ve got two days to finish this mission," he muttered, "I don’t think I can pull it off."

Lazaro shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "If you’re already thinking it’s a bust, why not relax a little? Enjoy what’s left."

"Because I’ve got a wife... and a baby on the way. I have bills to pay and a nursery to set up! I have responsibilities!" He almost shouted louder. "And I really need the money. Why would you think I would want to be on a fucking SiC? Do you think I chose to be here instead with my Marta?"

Lazaro’s grin faded, and he studied Jude for a moment. "That bad, huh?"

Jude didn’t respond, and the silence answered for him.

Lazaro gave a small nod. "Maybe we can take the car and go for a ride. See if we can find a landmark scanner."

"I have no clue where to even start," Jude admitted.

"Well, what’ve you been up to lately? Besides rescuing apes with food poisoning?"

Jude huffed, a tired smirk forming. "Brooding, mostly."

"Hey, brooding’s a plan like any other." Lazaro ran a hand through his hair, thinking for a moment. Then, as if struck by an idea, he suggested, "Have you checked the hospital?"

Jude shook his head, distracted. "No... but George did mention something about wanting to build a shelf."

In A6, where Jude, Lazaro, and Lucy were stationed, there was no hint of a real town. It was more of a passageway, a stretch of land where the occasional wildlife seemed better adapted to the heat than any human could be. Jude wasn’t surprised when, a bit farther up the map, they finally stumbled upon something resembling a town. It was simple—just the basics. A few houses, stores, a bakery, a blacksmith, and a warehouse for goods. A place that felt more like a stopover than a destination.

Lazaro had told him that most people here worked at the hospital, served as firefighters, or were involved in wildlife support. Jude nodded along, but “wildlife support” stuck with him. It didn’t quite click. In his mind, it sounded like some kind of zookeeper job, except there were no cages. Just the open land and animals roaming free, without much need for containment. Lately, though, not much has made sense to him anymore.

It didn’t take long to reach the town, and as they rolled in, Jude couldn’t help but feel like he had stepped into an old cowboy movie. Wooden houses lined the two main streets, weathered and simple, their faded paint chipped from the sun. The streets crossed at the center, forming a wide, dusty plaza, almost too quiet, as if time itself had slowed down in this little pocket of the world.

The town's landscape was a strange blend of colours, where the deep green of the nearby forest bled into the yellows of the desert. The contrast was jarring but oddly beautiful, like two worlds colliding in the same space.

The town felt empty, with only a few people here and there wandering quietly. It made sense, Jude thought—most of the residents probably were at work just like in the real world. Still, the thought nagged at him. Why? Why put so much effort into a simulation that mirrored real life so closely? The details were almost perfect, convincing enough to blur the lines. And yet, it felt off. Too much effort for something that shouldn’t need this much realism. The question buzzed in his mind, refusing to let go.

They parked on the outskirts of town, the dirt crunching beneath the tyres as they stepped out. Jude, Lazaro, and Lucy began walking, eyes searching for the carpenter’s shop. Jude wanted to gift furniture for the apes’ new camp, though he hadn’t worked out all the logistics yet. As they strolled, he added books to his list—recent history and math disguised as stories. George seemed a clever ape to get around those.

They finally arrived at a small shop with a green window display. On the porch, a man sat, slowly winding his straw hat in his hands, shielding part of his face. The creaky chair beneath him groaned with each rock, but his eyes remained fixed, unwelcoming. His bald head glistened in the sunlight, and the sharpness of his pointy ears caught Jude's attention—one of them bore a jagged cut across the middle, adding a rough edge to his already hardened expression.

"Hey, Gaby!" Lazaro called, stepping onto the porch.

The man’s eyes narrowed instantly, and with a sharp wave of his hand, he snapped, "Don’t ‘Gabi’ me!"

Jude glanced at Lazaro, sensing the tension. "Something wrong?"

“I don’t know,” Lazaro muttered as he stepped closer, laying a hand on Gabi’s shoulder. “What’s the matter, friend?”

Gabi stood up, his eyes flashing as he squared off with Lazaro, almost chest to chest. “What’s wrong, human?” he spat, his voice rising. He jabbed a finger toward Lazaro, the anger in his words sharp and raw. “I called a week ago! My cargo didn’t arrive, and neither did Isidor! A whole week and not a damn word! You call us friends? You’ve got the nerve to come here like nothing happened? Are you kidding me? You humans—always with your audacity—”

“I’m out of commission, Gabi. I don’t—” Lazaro started, but Gabi interrupted him.

His face shifted, and the angry fire in his eyes dimmed. “Out of commission?” His gaze searched Lazaro’s face, something unreadable passing between them. “You got...?”

Lazaro gave a small grin, nodding. “Yeah, I’m here with you.”

Before Gabi could press further, Lazaro gestured toward Jude and Lucy. “This is Lucy—she’ll be moving in, too. And this is Jude. He’s only here for a few days, sent to... well, look into some, you know, ‘numbers’ that didn’t quite add up in the reports.”

Gabi’s face shifted, the colour draining slightly, deepening the lines on his weathered skin. "Oh, yeah... welcome, friend," he said, forcing the word with a tight-lipped smile that never reached his eyes. The way he said "friend" felt hollow, as if he were calling a fish a “good boy” without meaning a word of it.

Jude cleared his throat, trying to break the tension. "Hi, I came to buy... or maybe order some furniture."

Gabi’s gaze sharpened. "Wood?" he asked, his tone flat.

"Yeah... wood," Jude replied, a little unsure now.

"No luck," Gabi said. "I’ve been waiting two weeks for my cargo to arrive. Isidor’s the one who handles the distribution."

Jude glanced at the forest surrounding them, his brow furrowing in confusion. "But there are plenty of trees around..."

Gabi gave a tired sigh, shaking his head. "It doesn’t work like that, son. You can’t just chop down any tree you see. Some are core to the foundation underground, and others are essential for feeding the grove. Everything here has a purpose. And some trees—well, they’re meant to be cut, but only after Isidor’s approved it. He’s the one who handles all that—examines, cuts, distributes. No Isidor, no wood." Gabi let out a dry chuckle, the sound more bitter than amused. "And no wood means no furniture. I’ve got nothing to offer."

Lazaro stepped closer, frowning. "How long’s it been?"

“Forget it; you’re out of commission, so I’ll have to call Paris. Heard Len’s asleep... again,” Gabi muttered with a shrug as he settled back into his creaky chair, his tone resigned. “Guess I’ll just have to wait.”

Jude glanced at Lazaro, then Lucy. “We could check the road. We’re not exactly swamped with things to do.” His voice was casual, but inside, he was restless, needing something to pull him out of his spiralling thoughts. Something simple, on the edge of normalcy. Scouting seemed as good a distraction as any. At least it was something he could control—something to focus on instead of the endless questions weighing him down.

Lucy tilted her head, considering. “Doesn’t really sound like an adventure. Could be sick, or worse—fall asleep like Len,” she said.

Gabi chuckled, his eyes crinkling just slightly. “Little girl, no one falls asleep like Len.”

Lazaro leaned against the porch railing, nodding toward the road. “I guess we could poke around the area... maybe with some luck, even find a landmark scanner.”

Lucy’s eyes lit up. “Now that sounds like an adventure.”

Lazaro turned back to Gabi. “Any place along the way he might’ve stopped, gotten distracted?”

Gabi shrugged. “Not that I know of... unless he stumbled on a new grove and completely forgot about my order.” His expression darkened quickly. “But that’s not like him. He’s always on time, always reliable.”

Jude frowned. “Shouldn’t that be a bit... alarming?”

“That’s why I called,” Gabi muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “But, honestly... he doesn’t have to answer to anyone. I just wish he’d given me a heads-up.”

Lazaro hesitated for a moment, glancing at Jude as if carefully weighing his words. “There’s no real concept of jobs or schedules here,” he said slowly. “People do things because they want to. Some run stores and offer services. Others... they’re more like freelancers, gig-type people.”

Jude raised an eyebrow. “And Isidor?”

Gabi nodded. “He’s one of those. He handles a lot—takes care of the trees, classifies them, cuts what’s allowed, and makes the distribution. It’s a big task. Honestly... he could just be on vacation and forgot to tell me.”

“Probably,” Lazaro agreed with a small smile, trying to stay optimistic.

“Or he’s dead,” Gabi added flatly.

“Gabi, come on…” Lazaro muttered, trying to calm him down, pointing discreetly to Jude. But Gabi wasn’t easily swayed.

“There are rumours about bots in the wild. Did you know that? Maybe they caught Isidor.”

“That’s impossible,” Lazaro replied quickly. “Everything’s broadcasted in and out. Did you hear anything? Because I didn’t.”

Gabi’s eyes narrowed. “What if they found a way in?”

Jude frowned, his mind catching on the word. “What bots?” he asked, a flicker of recognition passing through him. Bart had mentioned something about "bots" when they handled Lucy’s entry into the SiC, but it had been vague and brushed off at the time. Now, the mention of them again stirred unease, like a piece of puzzle suddenly appearing and adding to the collection.

Lazaro waved it off. “Nothing. Just ideas from someone who’s spent too much time on their porch, imagining every worst-case scenario.”

Not long after their conversation with Gabi, they piled back into the jeep, the engine rumbling as they set off down the main road. The ride started smoothly, but as they veered off into uneven terrain, it became more of an improvised road trip adventure, the jeep bouncing and swaying over rocks and dips.

At one point, Lucy leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with playful mischief. "My little eyes see something black," she challenged, her voice cutting through the hum of the engine.

Lazaro glanced around lazily, grinning. "The shadow of a tree?" he guessed.

Lucy shook her head with enthusiasm. "Nope!" she said, her tone teasing.

"A stone in the dirt?" Jude guessed, squinting at the ground.

"Nope," Lucy replied with a grin, clearly savouring her victory.

"Come on, Jude, a stone in the dirt would be brown," Lazaro teased.

Jude rolled his eyes. "Well, your shadow of a tree wasn’t much better," he shot back, his gaze scanning the horizon. "A fly!" he added, a bit more hopeful. But so far, no fly has insulted his hygiene.

Lucy laughed, shaking her head. "No! You guys really suck at this, or you need glasses."

Lazaro rubbed his chin dramatically, playing along. "Black in the wild... I see green leaves, brown trees, more green... yellow… The sky? A bird! You saw a black bird."

Lucy giggled again, shaking her head. "Try again."

Suddenly, Jude slammed on the brakes, the jeep skidding to a stop. The playful banter vanished, replaced by an eerie silence as he stared ahead. "The black tyre of a truck?" he muttered, his voice tight.

"Yes..." Lucy’s voice faltered. The excitement drained from her tone. The game was over, and what lay before them was anything but fun.

Off to the side of the road, a large transportation truck sat crumpled against a tree, its load of wood logs scattered across the ground. The front was a wreck, twisted metal and shattered glass. Blood streaked across the windshield.

But there was no driver.