Proxy reached the fuel cylinder housing and put his back against the metal. The housing was large enough to cover him, old enough that the surface was pitted and rough under his hands.
He went into the network.
The cycling implant was the loudest thing in his scan at this range. Military-grade, fully partitioned. A closed system with walls that did not move when he pushed against them.
He tried it anyway. They did not move.
Military-grade cyberware were built by people who expected netrunners to look for exactly this, and they had not left the doors unlocked.
But the implant drew power, and power came through regulation circuitry, and the regulation circuit had to connect somewhere.
He traced the power chain outward from the military core and found it. A civilian-grade power management backbone, installed as the integration layer between the military hardware and the body's existing neural infrastructure.
