Embers of Discontent

Liora’s POV

Rain lashed the rooftop as Liora crouched behind a ventilator shaft, boots anchored on slick gravel. Below, the city’s power grid barriers flickered—green corridors emerging like veins in the storm. Torian and Echo huddled near the edge, scanning the horizon for Aldren’s signal.

Lightning split the sky. Liora’s comm crackled:

Aldren: I’m through. Heading south — Sector D.

She exhaled. “He’s alive.”

Echo pressed close. “What happens now?”

Liora’s gaze was fixed on the distant neon spires. “Now… we ignite the spark.”

She handed Echo one of the briefcase ghost nodes—smaller, sleeker, vulnerable. He nodded, hands steady. She’d taught him how to handle it: no fear, only purpose.

Below them, a Council S‑brigade convoy thundered through the flooded streets—tanks, drones, armored personnel carriers. Their spotlights carved ominous arcs. Civilians huddled in doorways, eyes wide.

Liora tapped the node’s activation switch. A soft beep. The rooftop’s beacon lights—hacked by Marcellus’s union cell—pulsed green. Echo raised the node and pressed it to a service hatch. The steel grate popped open; he dropped the node inside and slammed the cover.

Moments later, the hatch rattled and sank into the pavement. The convoy passed, engines droning. Twelve seconds later, their comms erupted in static:

Council Broadcast (garbled): —unauthorized transmission — system reboot in 30 seconds—

Spotlights cut out, engines hummed, and the convoy ground to a halt. Soldiers pounded on the armored doors.

Liora exhaled. “First wave down.”

Torian pointed to the far edge of the rooftop: a silhouette diving for cover. Calix?
“No,” Liora said, recognizing Delia’s union jacket. She launched herself across the gravel, Torian at her heels. Echo followed, eyes wide but determined.

Delia crouched behind an HVAC unit, rifle smoking lightly. She peered through night‑vision goggles. “You’re late.”

Liora skidded to her side. “Had to make sure Echo had the node.”

Delia’s eyes softened. “He did it, Liora. He’s… You should see him.”

Echo stepped forward. “I placed the node myself.”

Delia crouched to his level. “You’ve got the heart of a revolution.” She brushed his hair away. “Now let’s keep moving.”

The convoy’s lights snapped back on; the reboot cycle ended. Sirens wailed as engines roared.

Liora tapped her comm. Torian, Delia, Echo—move west to the subway lines. I’ll circle east and meet you at the neutral ground.

Delia nodded, shouldering her rifle. “Stay safe.”

Liora hesitated. Delia’s hand flicked out, squeezing her shoulder. “We’re dust before the storm,” she whispered. “But fearless.”

Liora exhaled and turned, sprinting toward the rooftop’s edge. Torian and Echo followed Delia into the stairwell.

She reached the parapet and paused, eyes scanning the cityscape. Somewhere in the streets, Aldren fought his own battle. Behind her, a distant thud—a hellhound drone landing on the roof’s other side. Liora spun, pistol raised, but the drone’s hatch slid open, revealing Halsey’s face on a holo‑screen mounted inside.

Halsey’s lips curved. “Congratulations. You’ve found Sector H’s descendants.”

Liora’s blood froze. The Council’s ghost had sent a message.

Halsey raised a hand, and dozens of S‑brigade troopers began rappelling onto the roof—from every corner, converging.

Liora’s fist clenched. “Echo!”

The boy dashed behind her, wide‐eyed. She fired twice at the drone’s sensors. Sparks rained.

Halsey’s voice echoed disembodied: “Too many ghosts to kill.” Then static—then the drone fell silent.

The rooftop’s gravel shifted under dozens of troops’ boots. Liora exhaled, pistol raised.

She was outnumbered.

And the city’s first spark stood between them and oblivion.