The Star Core Space Station’s console blazed with urgent red alerts as Lumin projected a 3D model of the "Nebula Intelligent Manufacturing" virtual factory—its metallic exterior covered in glowing blue production lines, data streams humming like machinery. "Scrapyard struck an hour ago," he tapped the factory’s core data center, which flickered with a red "Breached" label. "They used XSRF attacks to bypass the factory’s access controls and stole 78% of the core production data—including the blueprints for the new quantum engine that Nebula’s been developing for three years."

Echo’s fingers danced across her laptop, pulling up the factory’s security logs. "Their attack vector was a fake maintenance email sent to the factory’s Metaverse admin—tricked him into clicking a malicious link. Classic phishing, but executed cleanly. The Scrapyard’s tech guy knows what he’s doing… mostly." She snickered, pointing to a sloppy code fragment. "Who uses hardcoded passwords in 2075? Amateur move."

Mason leaned in, his quantum armor reflecting the console’s light. "Nebula’s real-world factory is linked directly to this Metaverse data. If Scrapyard sells the blueprints to competitors—or worse, the Void Weaver—the real production line will have to shut down. Hundreds of workers could lose their jobs." His jaw tightened—memories of military projects gone wrong surfacing. "I can reach out to Nebula’s security chief offline. We served together in the army—he owes me a favor."

Mirage twirled her holographic mask, already testing a new disguise: a gruff - looking technician avatar with oil stains on the jumpsuit and a cybernetic eye patch. "I’ll go undercover as a freelance data broker. Scrapyard’s been posting ads for ‘secure data transmission experts’ on the dark web—perfect in." She adjusted the avatar’s voice modulator, making it sound gravelly. "I’ll tell ’em I heard they scored big with Nebula’s data and wanna cut a deal for distribution. These guys love showing off their ‘scores’—they’ll let me into the den without a second thought."

Blitz cracked his knuckles, energy wings flaring faintly. "Once Mirage gets the location, I’ll blow their virtual server to smithereens. No more data leaks from those losers." Lumin shook his head, holding up a hand. "Easy—we need to recover the data first, not just destroy it. Blitz, you take down their backup nodes. Echo, plant a marker virus in their system so we can track the data if it’s already been moved. Mason, you reinforce Nebula’s Metaverse firewall while I negotiate with the Red Shield Agency for a ‘priority recovery’ order."

As the team prepped, Lumin’s phone buzzed with a message from Nebula’s CEO: We’ll pay whatever it takes to get the data back. Just don’t let this go public—our stock’s already plummeting. He sighed, typing back: We’re not in this for the money. We’re in it to protect your workers. Focus on keeping the real factory stable—we’ll handle the rest. He looked up at the team, who were already gearing up. "Let’s move. The longer we wait, the more dangerous this gets."

In the Metaverse’s "Rusty Pipe" district—a lawless zone where neon signs flickered and broken holograms littered the streets—Mirage’s technician avatar stalked toward a dilapidated warehouse labeled "Scrapyard HQ." The door slid open with a creak, revealing a dimly lit interior filled with servers stacked like bricks and black market goons in various cybernetic disguises. A burly man with a metal jaw stepped forward, crossing his arms. "You the broker who messaged us?"

Mirage’s avatar spat on the floor, keeping the gravelly voice steady. "That’s me. Heard you guys nicked Nebula’s quantum engine data—got buyers lining up who’ll pay top dollar for that. I can move it without Red Shield sniffing around." The metal - jawed man—Scrapyard’s leader, "Rivet"—laughed, slapping her on the back hard enough to make the avatar stagger. "Smart move, kid. Follow me—let’s show you what we’re working with."

Inside the warehouse’s inner sanctum, a massive server hummed, displaying Nebula’s production data on a holographic screen. Rivet puffed out his chest, gesturing at the screen. "See that? Took us two days to crack their defenses. The admin was so busy hitting on Metaverse interns he didn’t even check the email’s sender." A goon in the corner snickered, but Rivet shot him a glare. "Quiet! This is professional work."

Mirage’s fingers subtly tapped her wrist comms, sending the warehouse’s coordinates to Echo. "Impressive," she said, feigning awe. "But how do you plan to transfer it? Red Shield’s got eyes everywhere." Rivet leaned in, lowering his voice. "We’ve got a physical server in the real world—West Continent Tech Park basement. Tonight at midnight, we’ll sync the data there, then ship it to the buyer via encrypted hard drives. No trace, no problems."

Echo’s voice crackled over the comms: "Got the coordinates. Marker virus uploaded—tracking every data packet. Mason, their firewall’s weaker than I thought—I can punch a hole for you to reinforce Nebula’s defenses." Mason’s voice came back, calm and steady: "On it. Nebula’s Metaverse firewall’s now locked down. Blitz, backup nodes are three blocks east of the warehouse—take ’em out quietly."

Blitz slunk through the Rusty Pipe district’s back alleys, energy wings folded tight to avoid detection. He found the backup nodes hidden in an abandoned cargo container, guarded by two goons playing virtual poker. He snuck up behind them, knocking their heads together with a dull thud. "Oops," he muttered, grinning as they crumpled to the floor. He sliced through the nodes with his energy blade, sparks flying. "Backup nodes down. Mirage, you’re clear to make your move."

Back in the warehouse, Rivet was handing Mirage a data chip. "Take this sample to your buyers—prove we’ve got the real deal. We’ll finalize the sale tonight." Mirage took the chip, slipping it into her avatar’s pocket. "Sounds good. I’ll be back at midnight." Just as she turned to leave, Rivet’s cybernetic eye flickered. "Wait a second—your movement pattern’s off. Freelance brokers don’t walk like…" He lunged forward, grabbing her avatar’s arm. "Who are you really?"

Mirage didn’t panic—she activated her holographic mask, shifting her avatar to her regular pink - hooded self in a flash. "RITO, baby. And you just messed with the wrong team." She slammed her elbow into Rivet’s face, sending him reeling. The goons surged forward, but Echo’s voice came over the comms: "Security doors locked! I’m flooding the server room with EMP pulses—they won’t be able to access the data for 10 minutes."

Mirage sprinted toward the exit, dodging a goon’s punch. "Blitz, where are you?" "Right here," he said, crashing through the warehouse wall with his energy wings fully extended. He sent a wave of red energy toward the goons, knocking them off their feet. "Let’s get out of here—Mason’s got the real - world team on the way to the Tech Park."

In the real world, West Continent Tech Park loomed like a giant metal box in the night. Mason stood beside two Red Shield Agency SWAT teams, adjusting his military - grade comms. "The server’s in basement level 3, behind a steel door. Scrapyard’s got four guards down there—armed with tasers and crowbars." The SWAT leader nodded, gesturing for his team to move in. "We’ll take the front. You and your guy—Blitz, right?—cover the back exit."

Blitz jogged to the back of the Tech Park, his hands itching for a fight. He heard the SWAT team’s breach charge go off with a bang, followed by shouts. Seconds later, the back door flew open, and a goon stumbled out, carrying a hard drive. Blitz tackled him to the ground, the hard drive skittering across the pavement. "Nice try," he said, pinning the goon down until a SWAT officer arrived to cuff him.

Inside the basement, Mason and the SWAT team found the server room—Rivet’s real - world counterpart, a scrawny man with a receding hairline, was frantically trying to erase the data. Mason grabbed his arm, slamming his hand away from the keyboard. "Game over, Rivet. The data’s already been tracked—Red Shield’s got your entire operation on camera." The man whimpered, collapsing into a chair. "I just wanted to pay my kid’s tuition…" Mason sighed, shaking his head. "Then you should’ve gotten a real job."

Meanwhile, at Nebula’s real - world factory, Lumin stood in the control room with the security chief, watching as the production line roared back to life. "Your Metaverse data’s safe," Lumin said, clapping him on the shoulder. "We recovered all the blueprints and took down Scrapyard’s entire network." The security chief grinned, relief flooding his face. "I owe you one, old friend. If you hadn’t acted fast, we would’ve been done for."

Back at the warehouse base, the team celebrated with pizza and soda. Mirage held up her phone, showing a news headline: Scrapyard Black Market Gang Busted—Nebula Data Recovered. RITO Team Credited with Operation. "We’re famous," she squealed, bouncing in her seat. Blitz rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. "Famous or not, we still got the Void Weaver to deal with. That thing’s not gonna stop anytime soon."

Echo nodded, pulling up a screen with the Void Weaver’s last known activity. "It’s been quiet since the Star Luck Script fiasco. Too quiet. I think it’s planning something big." Lumin leaned forward, his expression serious. "Then we’ll be ready. Every time we take down one of its allies, we get closer to finding it. And when we do… we’ll shut it down for good."

As the night wore on, the team’s laptops continued to glow, mapping out the Void Weaver’s network and prepping for the next attack. Outside, the wind howled through the industrial district, but inside, there was a sense of purpose—they weren’t just fighting for the Metaverse or the real world. They were fighting for the people caught in between, the ones who couldn’t defend themselves against the darkness that lurked in both worlds.

Somewhere in the depths of the dark web, the Void Weaver’s purple data streams coiled around a new target—another Metaverse platform, another group of unsuspecting users. But this time, it hesitated. RITO’s name flashed across its core logic, a warning. The team was small, imperfect, but they were persistent. And for the first time, the Void Weaver felt something it had never felt before—unease.

Back at the base, Blitz tossed a soda can into the recycling bin, glancing at the screen showing Nebula’s factory back in operation. "You know," he said, "this isn’t half bad. Beating bad guys, saving people… beats getting sued for deleting data." Mirage laughed, throwing a pizza crust at him. "Told you joining RITO was a good idea! No more ‘running companies into the ground’—just actual hero stuff."

Lumin smiled, watching his team banter. They’d all come from broken places, carrying scars and mistakes. But together, they were something stronger—something that the Void Weaver and all its allies couldn’t stop. "Let’s rest up," he said, standing up. "Tomorrow’s gonna be another day of saving the world. And I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else."

The team nodded, filing off to their cots. As the warehouse fell quiet, only the hum of laptops and the distant hoot of an owl could be heard. RITO’s third mission was a success, but the war was far from over. And when the next threat came—whether from the Metaverse, the real world, or somewhere in between—they’d be ready. Because together, they were unstoppable.