Zero POV

I step out of Justin's place, the steel door clicking shut behind me. I grab my gun from the shelf, slide the clip back in, and tuck it into my waistband. My bike waits in the shadows.

As I swing my leg over and rev it to life, Justin's last words loop in my mind, over and over, like a broken record I can't shut off.

"A similar mask was being auctioned in the black market, but not as advanced."

Not as advanced. That means someone took a basic piece of tech and turned it ...