《Titan Project - [Superhero, Cyberpunk, Dystopian]》 ITs coming! First 20k words on Feb. 21st, 2025! (One chapter a day afterward!) Chapter 1 - "Caught" - To release on February 21st, 2025! Blurb: My mother called me a monster, my father calls me a traitor; but I¡¯ll prove to my brother that I can be a hero. Evan and his adopted brother have hidden a dangerous secret from their family for their whole lives - that they have mutant powers. Evan can manipulate matter with devastating potential, something the Federation would do anything to be rid of. But no matter what they throw at him - he will never stop trying to be the hero. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. After Evan accidentally exposes his powers, known as Affliction, his father sends a cyborg bounty hunter after him to cover up the truth. Branded as traitors, Evan and his brother are separated in a desperate bid for survival. Now, Evan must team up with mutant rebels on a mission to rescue his brother and defeat his father. But the further he falls down the conspiracy, the more he fears he¡¯ll prove his mother right - that he is a monster. Key Aspects: This is a Cyberpunk mash up of X-men meets Mocking Jay. It is a thriller, with brutal deaths trickled throughout. There are consequences for the characters'' actions, much as there would be for a crew of rebels in our world. There are some progression-lite aspects in the book, as the MC must learn to overcome his weaknesses and master his powers - as well as figure out how to be a hero in the dystopian Federation of America. This novel is written in a third-person close POV and follows Evan, a governor''s kid turned rebel. 1: "Caught" Evan slapped his hands to his classroom desk and held them there like the other thirty students, as was procedure. His sweaty palms stuck to its plastic surface. A vibration coursed at the tips of his fingers. He bit his tongue, bidding his powers to stay locked within. Dean VanDusen continued his announcement over a loudspeaker. ¡°Instructors, please ensure that your students maintain protocol and do not impede the authorities in their search for a possible Afflicted on Campus. Show them that Nero Caine Academy students are the best the Federation can produce.¡± The room filled with the murmur of classmates. Things like, ¡°Do you think they¡¯ll send a purifier to find it?¡± and ¡°What if it¡¯s a student?¡± or ¡°I hope they kill it before graduation today.¡± All the while Mr. Reltih shushed them and waved his hands for them to calm down, his mustache dancing on his lip. This was all wrong. Father said he¡¯d take care of the situation. He¡¯d always been able to protect Ken and Evan before. Had things gotten out of his control? Had Evan finally sabotaged everything? Were soldiers coming for both Ken and him? Would they drag them away only three hours before graduation? Maybe they¡¯d shoot them right there in front of their classmates. Monster. Evan took deep breathes, trying to keep his powers from flaring out. What about Ken? His friend was in bio-lab, across the hall. The classroom doors were sealed slabs of metal, and only a teacher¡¯s keycard could open them. Evan could attack Mr. Reltih and steal it. The man was scrawny, though Evan had no illusions of his own strength. Forget the keycard, he could try and disintegrate the door, run down the hall, blow up an escape for Ken, and they¡¯d both make a break for freedom. But the more likely scenario was Evan would lose control and fall to the floor writhing in his own vomit, or accidently kill everyone in the room. None of those seemed like great outcomes. Anyway, even if he could save Ken, what would they do next? Jump through one of the six-foot windows that lined the outer walls of both classrooms? There were dozens of them, big enough to climb through. But it¡¯d be a four-story drop into solid rock pavement. They¡¯d be like the autumn leaves, making their decent into the next life. Evan shook his head. Don¡¯t be stupid. Dad has a plan. If the Governor could keep both Ken and Evan¡¯s powers a secret for over six years despite what Evan had done, then surely, he¡¯d find a way to protect them now. The class quieted as the sound of clanking feet came down the hallway. Enforcers. Evan¡¯s mind flashed to six years ago. Dark blue uniforms, soulless black visors, and thick guns strapped to their thighs. He imagined one held to his forehead. Evan¡¯s body melted in sweat. He couldn¡¯t move. He couldn¡¯t breathe. Swoosh. A door had opened. Not the one to Evan¡¯s class. One across the hall. There were muffled voices. Someone screamed. Swoosh. They¡¯re in the hallway. Evan ran from his desk. ¡°Evangelos,¡± Mr. Reltih shrieked, ¡°get back into your seat!¡± Evan ignored him, pushing desperately against the locked door to open it. Who did they grab? Who was in that hallway? Who was being dragged, kicking his feet, crying? ¡°Hey, look!¡± Squawked another classmate who pointed to something outside. The other students shoved each other as they crowded to look through the windows. Reltih¡¯s disapproving shouts were reduced to white noise amidst the clamor and excitement. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Evan squeezed his way to the glass. Several stories down, upon that hard-cobbled pavement, hummed an armored car. It was an onyx black box of slanted hard edges, with a gunner hatch on top, and viewports slit on its hull. It bloomed white exhaust that wreathed around it like a dragon¡¯s head. A handful of enforcers dragged someone in an academy uniform out of the school. Please not him. Please not him. But it was. Ken¡¯s shoes popped off his feet as they skid across the pavement. Tears and snot ran down his face. He looked up at the windows helplessly, almost as if he knew Evan was looking down at him. The soldiers shoved a syringe into his neck, and he went limp. Then they tossed him into the car, climbed in, and drove away from the school. Evan¡¯s body burned, his vision blurred, his stomach pulsated. This wasn¡¯t how it was supposed to be. This wasn¡¯t supposed to happen at all. It was his fault, his, not Ken¡¯s. It was never Ken¡¯s fault. The dean¡¯s voice blared over the sound system again. ¡°Well done, students. The Afflicted menace has been dealt with. As the lockdown ends, please make your way to your designated positions for graduation!¡± The class cheered. It was sickening. Evan stumbled back to his desk. He gulped when he saw that an impression of his palms had melted the top of his desk, and waxy plastic caked his hands. He threw his backpack over the desktop and wiped his hands on it, waiting to be the last student out of the class so that no one would see what had happened. He followed quickly behind the last two students on their way out the door. ¡°Its parents were idiots not to get vaccinated before having a kid,¡± said one of them, a squeaky girl named Patel. ¡°The vaccine doesn¡¯t always work,¡± suggested Ruce, her dreary-eyed boyfriend. Patel scoffed. ¡°It could¡¯ve killed us!¡± Usually, Evan ignored when people called Afflicted people it, but this time each use drummed his heart deeper into his chest. Ken was more human than any of these fools. Evan wanted to turn the two of them into dust, and he could, if only it wouldn¡¯t prove them right about how dangerous Afflicted were. He instantly regretted the idea. ¡°Yeah, I would have fought back,¡± Ruce said. Patel shivered. ¡°It was an idiot. Couldn¡¯t even speak right. Probably had a lame Affliction, like drooling too much. Glad I don¡¯t have to sit next to it gnawing on its collar like some reject.¡± Evan seethed. He shoved past the couple, knocking their books to the ground. Ruce swore. ¡°Freaking GK.¡± ¡°Shut up! You want his dad to-¡± Evan walked too fast to hear that last part, but he knew what they would say about him. People usually avoided the Governor¡¯s Kid for good reason. But at that moment he didn¡¯t care what they said about him. Ken didn¡¯t deserve any of this. Evan¡¯s mind cycled through everything. I could have tried to save him. A worse realization came to mind. Father should have saved him. Evan ran for the cover of his dorm, slamming the door behind him. He adverted his eyes from Ken¡¯s bunk and made a phone call. It rung until it went to voicemail. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± his father¡¯s pre-recorded voice said, ¡°I¡¯m not available-¡± Evan canceled the call and tried again. Don¡¯t do this to me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m not-¡± ¡°Come on!¡± ¡°I¡¯m sor-¡± Evan swore and pressed the phone into his face. He pulled back when he noticed his reflection in it. Sweat evaporated from his cheeks. His hair sprung up in every which way, and his eyes were drug-addict red. His stained shirt hung from his frame like a wrinkled curtain. The person staring back at him made him sick. His hands buzzed with heat, and he felt his vision pull away from him. Control was slipping. He grabbed for something, anything. A toothbrush. He squeezed the plastic handle like someone might bite down on a wooden stick before an amputation. Its bristles rippled like wheat in a field, until the white strands disintegrated one by one. Dust particles floated around the purple handle, like candle wax slipping through his grasp, dribbling on to the floor. He stumbled, feeling like a capsized boat. The worse of it had passed. He wiped his palm with a towel and curled up in the frame of his dorm¡¯s large window ¨C wishing he was a leaf, wishing he was a leaf, wishing he was a leaf. The phone buzzed in his hand. ¡°Dad?¡± Father¡¯s smooth river of a voice responded, ¡°We¡¯ll talk when I see you after graduation. For now, trust in the Federation.¡± That was code for, ¡°Our conversation is being monitored.¡± There was so much Evan needed answers for. But then the call ended. Evan was alone. Lost. Hollow. Except for a single thought. It should have been me. 2: "Graduation" Evan tugged at his collar, which threatened to choke him anytime he looked down. His uniform was dark blue with pale trimming that stretched to his wrists and down his torso. The school¡¯s coat of arms clung to his left pec; a white crescent moon tri-pointed by the school¡¯s initials, N.C.A. Gilded buttons ran down the length of the coat, which was finished off with split tails in the back. He didn¡¯t want to wear the uniform, he didn¡¯t want to be there, he didn¡¯t want to carry on like nothing had happened. But what else was there for him to do, trapped in a uniquely secluded section of the Midwestern Federation? Nothing, but keep praying that his father would find a way to save Ken. He slunk into a grey chair, a half-sized partition separating him from his classmates on either side. Directly in front of him stood a small table with an obsidian-dark box on top. Its face had a small slit and camera lens that watched Evan closely. One-hundred and ninety-eight other students sat in similar cubicles that were arranged in rows around a stage, not too dissimilar to that of an opera hall. There was an empty seat in front of Evan, one that was meant to be filled. He almost made it, but you killed him. Evan sunk as deep into his chair as he could, still able to see the faces of the other students around him. He noted three faces in particular ¨C Nicholas, Anthony, and Vulture. All too satisfied. Evan knew why, and it took everything in him not to leap at them ¨C press his hands to their faces, melt their skin like wax¡­ Monster. Evan still felt the bruises in his neck from Nicholas¡¯ chubby digits pinning him against one of the school¡¯s outer concrete walls. Evan had tried to twist free, but his toothpick-thin arms didn¡¯t do him any favors against the bulky kid who held him. ¡°Stay out of this, GK. This doesn¡¯t have anything to do with you,¡± Nicholas had said. His uncanny egg-shaped head shining from the Sun. All Evan could do was yell as two other brutes smashed Ken¡¯s head against a metal lunch table, spraying the contents of a nutrition shake everywhere. His glasses snapped in half as one of the bullies smooshed his face harder against the surface. ¡°Come on freak, do something,¡± one of the bullies had said to Ken. Her real name escaped Evan, but he¡¯d seen her beady vulture eyes somewhere else before. ¡°We know you¡¯re one of them. Come on, use your Affliction, try to hurt me. Save yourself, freak. Do it freak. Freak. Freeeaaak,¡± Anthony said, an equally skin-headed fiend. They were wrong about Ken; his power wasn¡¯t dangerous. He could mimic voices, that¡¯s all, like a video recording or a corvid¡¯s mock vocals. He was exceptional at controlling his powers, unlike Evan, however. Sure, Ken talked to himself regularly, along with a dozen other quirks that made him, him. But It wasn¡¯t Ken who they¡¯d seen use powers. It had been Evan, it had to have been. His power was dangerous. Molecular Dispersion, his father¡¯s private scientists had called it. The ability to change the state of matter. But in truth, it just meant he was good at disintegrating stuff with his mind ¨C or more often in his case, losing control and falling into a seizure shortly after. He was always slipping up some way or another, and these pure-bread animals must had seen it ¨C but because Ken was the different one out of their duo, they¡¯d assumed it had to be him. Evan had searched for a way to save them without giving himself away. It was stupid, but maybe if he disintegrated the buttons on the bullies¡¯ pants, make their uniform slacks fall around their ankles, they might let go in shock and give Evan and Ken an opportunity to escape. He¡¯d call father and it¡¯d be their word vs. the Governor¡¯s. Just the buttons. Evan focused in on the tiny circles at the bullies¡¯ waists, imagining them slip their bonds. ¡°What are you looking at?¡± Nicholas snapped. A solid fist dug into Evan¡¯s stomach. Shock ran up his chest, scattering his focus. Instead of just the buttons, the entirety of their pants disintegrated into dust, exposing their various styles of underwear. The bullies reeled. Nicholas fled, tears flying off his face, tailed by Vulture and Anthony ¨C Toward the Dean¡¯s office, Evan realized in retrospect. ¡°You ok, E-friend?¡± Ken had asked. ¡°This is bad, man. I messed it up,¡± Evan admitted. The metallic taste of blood came from his inner cheek after chewing on it too hard, and his eyes burned from not blinking enough while looking for an answer. Ken braced Evan with an arm and guided him inside the school. ¡°Going to be ok, buddy,¡± he said with a reassuring smile. It had been enough to set Evan¡¯s mind at ease for a brief, gullible moment. I¡¯m an idiot. Evan thought, snapping back to the present. Three buttons. That was the thing that got Ken arrested. Three insignificant circles of plastic. He wished he could blink himself out of existence. Yet, his existence persisted, and he¡¯d have to endure the graduation ceremony that was ahead of him. He stopped looking at the bullies, stopped remembering the past, and stopped giving them any more of his fraying sanity. Instead, he set his mind on how he was going to survive the next few hours. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. The chattering of students dissipated as plump Dean Van¡¯Dusen walked on to the auditorium stage and braced himself at a podium made of twisting onyx with veins of cream. An orb-shaped camera drone hovered in front of him. He licked his potato skin lips and began. ¡°This is a blessed day. The day that you step into your familial legacies as capable men and women of the Federation of America,¡± he declared. Evan wanted to escape, but he knew the eyes of the nation were watching. Enforcers could be waiting for him just outside, waiting for him to confirm their suspicions that he was an Afflicted sympathizer, waiting to stick a needle in his neck and cart him away to an uncertain future. So, he forced himself to watch the Dean¡¯s lips dance, threatening to chase after him if he dared to leave the theater before the ceremony was complete. ¡°Before we begin, please stand with me to recite the Federation pledge.¡± The Dean waved his hand, and a projection of the pledge and Federation crescent moon spread out into the air above him. The floor rumbled as the entire student body rose. Evan toyed with the idea of staying in his seat, but still the mind sought to preserve the body. He did stand ¨C but he refused to speak the pledge and said his own prayer instead. ¡°I Pledge Myself to the Federation of America,¡± Why did I do it? ¡°Oh, Federation of Freedom, of Faith,¡± What should I do? ¡°No Villain, No Demon, No Wraith,¡± Please help me. ¡°Will sway me from your call,¡± Help me find him. ¡°For even in the night,¡± Help me do something right. ¡°You shine on us all.¡± Help me save someone other than myself. A smile wriggled across Van¡¯Dusen¡¯s face. ¡°Please, have a seat.¡± Evan sat, looking anywhere other than Ken¡¯s empty chair. He couldn¡¯t bear to listen to what else the Dean had to say, but still the words bore into his mind without consent. ¡°Never, in my twenty years serving Nero Caine Academy, have I been more pleased with a class than I am with this one. You, the 20th graduating class, have proven that the Federation¡¯s future is here. Your blood is pure! To this day, we are the only Federation school never to have graduated an Afflicted, and we have paved a bright future in which our society may no longer live-in fear of such poison.¡± The student body erupted in applause, including a very satisfied Patel. Get ready to have your crappy record broken. Evan smirked. At least one good thing would come from the day. The event¡¯s end was close, all that was left was for their citizen IDs to be distributed ¨C or so Evan had thought. It turned out the Dean¡¯s presentation was far from over. Van¡¯Dusen depressed his hands and quieted the applause. ¡°Now, usually this would be the point where you receive your identification cards and are set out into the world as proud members of the Federation. But in light of today¡¯s triumph over a dangerous parasite-¡± The students booed at this mention of Ken. Evan found his eyes dropping to that empty seat. ¡°Now, now,¡± Van¡¯Dusen continued. ¡°I thought it would be appropriate to show off President Caine¡¯s legendary speech from the first Unification Day.¡± Not that. Evan winced. A decade ago, a group of terrorists had blown up a Federation bio-lab. The explosion had released some form of radiation across the East, thus creating the Affliction. President Caine was elected purely because he promised to remove the Afflicted, and this was his first address. The projection flashed to a video recording of the President¡¯s speech. Thousands crowded around the terraces of the capital. Several broad steps led to the front of what was ¡°The White Tower¡±, with pillars stretching thousands of feet past low clouds. At the top of the steps stood a glass cage, and within it shimmered a three-dimensional image of the President ¨C the first president who refused to make an address in person (too many assassinations of previous presidents, no doubt). His hair was stiff and black. A single metal pin of the Federation flag was clasped to his coat, a white background with a blue circle at the center of a black crescent. Dark eyes peered from his angular visage as he looked upon the legions gathered before him. That same day, soldiers came searching for Afflicted. That same day, Evan discovered his powers. That same day, it would take four showers to get the smell of blood out of his hair. Evan sucked in a rigid breath at the same time as the President always did before giving his infamous speech. ¡°Today marks the age of unification. The decades of war are finally over.¡± Evan forgot his body, entranced by his memories and the horror of what had just happened to the only friend he¡¯d ever known. To his brother. Finally, the recording was nearly over. ¡°We will undo separation. We will undo the Titan Project.¡± With that, the student body erupted in cheers. The Dean said, ¡°Well, students no longer! You are now Federation citizens!¡± Somehow the students manifested an even greater cry of celebration, except for Evan who sat frozen in his chair, staring blankly at Ken¡¯s seat. A metal card pushed out from the black box in front of it. His focus snapped to a similar card that came from his own box, his citizenship identification card. The cold of it bit his fingers. It was laser cut with a barcode and the classification, ¡°Evangelos Hendricks Junior, B3-1984.¡± A great rustling threw Evan out of his thoughts as his class turned and filed out of the auditorium with their new IDs clutched in hand. Ruce, Patel, Nicholas, Anthony, and even Vulture Eyes ¨C his enemies ¨C all allowed to walk into the future unscathed. But Ken¡¯s ID still lay there in front of his empty seat, no destination for it other than, perhaps, a landfill. ¡°No,¡± Evan said. He slid over the chair and grabbed the forlorn card. His heart danced. What was he doing? I don¡¯t know, but something, he thought. He nodded at another student who eyed the stolen card. She opened her mouth but was tugged away by the wave of excited classmates. Evan seized the opportunity to escape the auditorium, tapping his ID on his right thigh, while gripping Ken¡¯s in his sweaty left palm. 3: "The Freaking Boogieman" Evan sat on a grey cobbled pillar by the school¡¯s front steps. The air smelled of wet cobblestone, which was oddly soothing compared to the stiff atmosphere of indoor recycled breathing. He watched the sway of rust-colored trees that caressed an overcast sky. Periodically, the clouds might peel back, allowing the Sun to emblazon the dying leaves with fiery reds and oranges, like light when it passes through the skin of a finger splayed hand. There were few places in the Federation that maintained such beauty, and beyond the hills that shielded the school were a fair number of wastelands, ruins, and places where the price for survival had been paid a thousand times over. Below the trees were four twelve-foot-tall, electrified walls of metal which surrounded the campus of Nero Caine Academy, painted to look like red brick. Toward the northside, a single gate opened for split road that stretched infinitely East and West. Parallel to the road was a rail system. A tram would arrive momentarily, as it did every day, and every night. Wait for the tram, E-friend. Evan twirled the two IDs between his fingertips, while AI synthesized music played in his ratty-old headphones. The torn cushions of earmuffs hugged his head with the embrace of his childhood. They were ancient technology by most standards, but they played music all the same. Further ahead of him mingled the newly graduated class. Many friends, none of them his. Airships and hovercars descended to landing pads just outside of the school¡¯s gate, with hundreds of students, parents, servants, and staff cycling in and out of them for their journey home. Luggage stacked in piles upon piles in the courtyard and around the landing zones, sorted through and distributed by sharply dressed staff. Evan, however, had no luggage. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to go into his dorm again after the custodians had gathered Ken¡¯s stuff, which wasn¡¯t much to begin with. All he¡¯d had left were the two IDs, his phone, headphones, and backpack filled with a coat and random school supplies. He closed his eyes and tried to remember. The cool air became the ocean spray. The Sun¡¯s warmth held him, and the cobble pillars were coarse like beach sand under his fingers. It reminded him of a moment before he¡¯d become what he was. A moment with his father. They admired the setting sky, reds and purples spreading out and waving them farewell while they collected shells. Their feet left craters in the sand as they walked toward an old white house. Ken was there. So was Evan¡¯s mother. Monster. A sharp chill swept over Evan, taking the memory away with it. Perhaps it was for the best because he dreaded seeing the inside of that sickly house yet again. Evan shook his head and set aside the IDs, stripped off his uniform shirt, then pulled out his brown coat and slipped it on instead. Its right shoulder was sewn with a patch of an upside-down Federation flag, orienting the crescent moon backward. He liked to pretend it was intentional, a rebellion against the Federation. But it was only a sewing error. Wearing a miss-sewn badge was the most rebellious thing he had ever done, apart from existing. So, what was he thinking when he stole Ken¡¯s ID? What was someone like him supposed to do with a useless piece of metal? What statement could he make that wouldn¡¯t also throw himself into Federation custody? He was no hero. No rebel. No savior. He never wanted to be. All he wanted was¡­ well, it was stupid. He knew it was stupid. But wouldn¡¯t it be nice to just live in the music and never leave? A whistle came from behind the hills, where a great metal eel of a tram slithered out across the rail system in front of the school. Giant circular emitters magnetically lifted its chain of carts. The words Monolith Industries scrolled across its frame in broad holographic letters, but it might as well have said, ¡°Property of Governor Evangelos Hendricks.¡± Images of the Governor¡¯s second in command, Charlie Crain, came after. His smile could skin someone alive and then sell it back to them at twice the cost. Then came the images of Evan¡¯s father. He did not smile. His eyes held within them the cool calculating power that it took to control the East. That same power he always said would protect Evan and Ken. Liar. An automated voice came from the tram¡¯s loading area. ¡°Attention. The Monolith tram to: Hazard Station has arrived.¡± ¡°Train¡¯s here, E-friend,¡± Evan whispered. Ken would always say that when the tram arrived, without fail, even though neither of them had ever rode it. But for some reason the train meant something to Ken all the same, like a reminder that there was always a choice, that there¡¯d always be an escape open for them. Evan held his knees to his chest. It shouldn¡¯t have happened this way. He was supposed to save Ken, otherwise what was the point of it all? What was the point of that day when his mom¡­? It couldn¡¯t have all been a waste. He made one more attempt at calling his dad. He had to know that everything would be ok, that his friend was going to be rescued and protected. Father had promised. He¡¯d said they¡¯d always be safe, that he¡¯d always protect them¡­ No, that he¡¯d always protect Evan. Was that always the real promise, and Evan had hidden his own hopes within it? Just Evan? Not his friend? His brother? ¡°Please leave a message,¡± his father¡¯s voicemail said. Evan called again. ¡°Please leave a message.¡± ¡°Pick up, you-¡± ¡°Please-¡± ¡°Pick up!¡± ¡°Ple-¡± ¡°Agh!¡± Evan slammed his phone into his backpack but missed and instead dropped it into a patch of freshly cut grass. Evan pinched his brow, only then realizing that he was sweating and some of the pillar¡¯s granite was on his hands. He brushed the tiny rocks off. ¡°Cut it out, man,¡± he commanded himself. He took deep breaths, and the heat of his powers dissipated. Wouldn¡¯t want to get arrested for Affliction on the day of graduation. He caught the side glance of the three Hitler¡¯s Youth; Anthony, Nicholas, and Vulture. They were a few yards away, waiting for their flight home. This was Evan¡¯s last chance to avenge Ken, wasn¡¯t it? His opportunity to make them hurt like they hurt him. Why shouldn¡¯t he reach his hand out and watch as his power ripped them apart? That¡¯s what he was good at anyway, tearing things apart, blowing them up, destroying everything. It wasn¡¯t hard to imagine their molecules, thousands of tiny bigots making up three whole ¨C Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Monster. ¡°That¡¯s not me.¡± Evan squeezed his temples, ashamed of what he¡¯d just been contemplating, the things he¡¯d been thinking of all day. It was all wrong. Hurting them would only prove them right, it would prove the whole cursed world right, and he knew it wouldn¡¯t make the pain go away either. But if not revenge, and not passiveness, then what? What was there to do when all he felt was this gnawing emptiness? First his mom, now Ken. All he had left was his father. A man who wouldn¡¯t answer his calls. A man who, when Evan really thought about it, never actually cared about them. He was the Governor, wasn¡¯t he? He needed to cover for himself and only himself. That¡¯s what he did after Evan¡¯s mom had died, wasn¡¯t it? This was the same thing again. What would the world say if it turned out that the Governor of the East had an Afflicted son after all this time? They¡¯d riot. They¡¯d try to tear down his empire. But some random, abnormal kid that he had adopted out of charity? Easier to spin. No ties to his genes. Evan brushed his fingers through his hair. He didn¡¯t know if any of that was true, and it was unfair to pin everything on his dad. But he couldn¡¯t just sit and wait to find out if he was right or not. He had to fix this on his own. ¡°Last call for passengers bound for: Hazard Station and Dogma Isle,¡± the tram¡¯s voice called out one more time. There had always been a myth, that Afflicted were taken away to a special school where they wouldn¡¯t hurt anyone, and they¡¯d grow up in a community together ¨C waiting for their chance to be released back into society when a cure was found. For the first time, Evan hoped it was true. Ken might find his parents there, they¡¯d be reunited¡­ A fool¡¯s hope. Evan pressed Ken¡¯s ID against his forehead and made a promise. You¡¯re not going to sacrifice yourself for me, buddy. I¡¯m coming for you. Then he pocketed it. He stuffed his headphones in his backpack and jumped down from the pillar to snatch up his phone. His feet scraped against the cobbled road as he ran for the tram. A line of faculty and the occasional student funneled through a security pass where they¡¯d flashed their IDs, a beam would scan them before turning green, and then the tram door would welcome them inside. Forcing his apprehensions to the back of his head, Evan presented his ID to the scanner. A white light traced his body. It flashed green, followed by a metallic voice that said, ¡°Evangelos Hendricks Junior, B3-1984. Identity accepted.¡± The tram door opened for him, but he didn¡¯t move. He was about to make the bravest, or stupidest, decision he¡¯d ever made. But it would be his decision, not just a reaction to someone else¡¯s. This was his chance to be an active force in his own life, and if he succeeded ¨C if he saved his friend ¨C maybe everything he¡¯d been through would be worth something. He sucked in a breath, and stepped on to the tram, the doors sliding closed behind him. The tram smelled like sulfur, and the carpeted floor was splotched with black stains. Evan looked down the narrow corridors to his left and right. At the end of each cart were secluded rooms, followed by rows of benches that faced each other in pairs and were tucked beside giant glass windows. The tram was filled with a swarm of passengers in either direction. There¡¯d be the periodic student, but thankfully Evan didn¡¯t recognize any of them. ¡°Now departing for: Hazard Station.¡± The tram shifted, knocking Evan from his balance. He stumbled into one of the small rooms as the machine accelerated forward. There were two benches that faced each other, with a wide window at the end. He slid himself over to look outside, when he noticed a mound of a man lying on the bench across from him, snoring through the hum of the train. The Sun poured over his body like a fiery blanket. He was covered to his chin in a large black coat, and he clenched a physical picture, which was rather rare. It was of a smirking blonde woman in a white blouse. The guy was asleep, which was good enough for Evan. A weight lifted off him as the Academy ¨C that prison of cobbled rocks, solid beams, and soulless glass ¨C faded away. Part of him wanted to forget every human drone that attended or worked there, but he held on to them instead. If he ever ran into Nicholas, Anthony, or Vulture again¡­ He shook his head, exhaled, and let them go. They didn¡¯t matter anymore. All that mattered was saving Ken. He pulled his backpack off. It had a badge of the Federation Flag sewn into it as well. It begged for its life but deserved no compassion. Evan ripped it off and flicked it out of the window, along with his uniform shirt. The fabric flapped in the wind and whipped beneath the magnetic pull of the tram¡¯s emitters. So long, Hell. The slow ride from the Midwestern Federation area to the East provided plenty of time for Evan to see the old American landscape from a different perspective. When in an airship, he never witnessed just how dwarfing the Appalachian Mountains were, or how haunting the forests around it looked, and how small he was compared to it all. He also never noticed how many soldiers patrolled the roads in armored cars; or just how many guns they had. More chatter came from the automated system, ¡°Arriving at: Hazard Station.¡± Outside was a rustic town set upon small hills. It was made up of apartments and short houses that were constructed from pewter instead of polymer. Spiderwebs of cables and wires stretched between the buildings, making it seem rather haunting. Looming farther up the coast was the capital of the Federation, Dogma Isle. Its omnipresent glass and steel monoliths gleamed against the setting Sun. Though the capital was near, its influence over the town was fragile. A lot of stories about Afflicted came from Hazard Station; everything from rioting to full-on skirmishes with rebels. It was because the Titan Project incident had happened not too far West of what had used to be Philadelphia. Ken was somewhere out there, and Evan would find him. ¡°Identification?¡± burped a tin voice. A drone, like a large metallic eyeball, hovered in the doorway of Evan¡¯s cubicle. Its red pupil swam in a sea of black. ¡°Identification,¡± it said again. Evan held out his ID. The drone scanned Evan with a white beam that flashed to green. ¡°Identity confirmed, Evangelos Hendricks Junior, B3-1984.¡± The sleeping man stirred, his dark brown eyes blinking open underneath a scowl. His short hair and stubble jaw were equally shadowy. He was much thinner than his thick coat had suggested. The drone pivoted to the stranger, but it didn¡¯t scan him; it just hummed as it rocked gently in the air. He nodded to the machine. It continued down the train, never scanning him. Fear stung Evan. He¡¯d never seen a drone skip a scan, even with Federation enforcers. He had a sudden urge to run. ¡°Junior, huh?¡± The man scoffed in a gravelly voice. ¡°Governor¡¯s kid. Good.¡± ¡°Good?¡± Evan¡¯s spine tingled. His mind told him to get up, to leave, but his body chose to freeze up. The man stuffed his photo of the blonde into his black jeans. His eyes salivated with Evan in their reflection. ¡°Change of plans,¡± he said. ¡°What?¡± Evan asked. Yep, time to find a new seat. He hopped up, but as his foot touched the floor, his body stiffened ¨C his legs, torso, arms ¨C everything except his face became paralyzed. ¡°Wha-?¡± The stranger¡¯s eyes glowed a faint white. Evan stammered as he realized what kind of person this was. ¡°Yo-you¡¯re Afflicted.¡± ¡°Careful not to say that too loud, kid.¡± ¡°Next stop: Dogma Isle,¡± the tram snapped. ¡°Now,¡± the man muttered. Lights flickered off, and the tram dropped to the ground with a sudden crash. The other passengers tumbled in their seats, but Evan stayed frozen in place. This guy¡¯s working with someone else, a hacker who¡¯s controlling the tram, and probably that drone as well. The tram¡¯s automated voice broadcasted an alert. ¡°Attention passengers. This tram has experienced an unexpected depletion of power. Please exit promptly and wait for another vessel to arrive.¡± ¡°Ok, kid.¡± The man slid on a pair of sunglasses, hiding his glowing eyes. ¡°I¡¯m going to let go of you. Don¡¯t run, don¡¯t panic. Shut up and walk ahead of me where I tell you to go. Got it?¡± ¡°What do you want with me?¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t I say, shut up?¡± Evan considered his phone; it was programmed with an emergency transponder. He just had to reach into his pocket and tap it to send his father an emergency ping. But he¡¯d have to play along with this guy or else he wouldn¡¯t get the chance. Sensation came to Evan¡¯s head and neck. He nodded in compliance, then full control of his body returned to him. A dark green tendril slithered away from Evan¡¯s back and into the stranger¡¯s sleeve. Was that how he paralyzed Evan? The man twisted and grabbed the backpack. Evan plunged his hand into his pocket and pinched the transponder button underneath his phone ¨C and prayed. His hand was out before the stranger turned back. ¡°Let''s go.¡± An object in the man¡¯s coat pocket clinked against the bench as he prodded Evan forward. A gun? Of course it was a gun. 4: "Monster" Evan shook with each step. The stranger continued. ¡°Exit the tram and walk towards that alleyway.¡± There was a clear gap between a couple of houses, where light from neon signs faded into pure darkness. Evan nodded, took a deep breath, and stepped outside. The Sun had melted away, and he wondered if he¡¯d live to see its golden likeness again. ¡°You don¡¯t want to mess with me,¡± he said. ¡°My father is the Governor of the East. His enemies disappear.¡± He cringed at having used his father as a threat like some spoiled prep student. A couple of enforcers stood amongst the crowd of exiting passengers. Evan could call out to them, but the stranger might kill him before the soldiers could do anything. His voice retreated down to his stomach. ¡°Your dad¡¯s already done his worst,¡± the stranger responded. ¡°Stop looking at the Feds.¡± ¡°You know what? Afflicted like you are the reason why the Federation keeps hunting for mutants.¡± The stranger scoffed, ¡°geeze, you really don¡¯t listen.¡± ¡°Nope.¡± Evan sprinted toward the enforcers, waving his arms high. But before he opened his mouth, he was frozen in place again and yanked into the darkness of the alleyway. The man shoved Evan against a wall. His glasses slid to the edge of his nose, allowing a sliver of his glowing eyes to show. ¡°Did anyone see?¡± He said, but not to Evan. A moment passed, then he loosened his grip. ¡°Wait here, kid.¡± His hand reached into Evan¡¯s pocket and pulled out his thin phone. Evan strained to control his body, but paralysis held him like an invisible straight jacket. Please don¡¯t find the transponder. The stranger placed the phone inside the backpack and pressed his other hand against Evan¡¯s chest. A constrictive force gripped Evan¡¯s foot. A patch of grass underneath him contorted and sprouted from the dirt, as if alive. The blades pulsed and expanded into larger growths, which laced themselves in thick layers around his legs. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Evan¡¯s heart beat violently as the plants curled over him. He¡¯s going to kill me. He struggled against the man¡¯s grasp, but the plants only tightened more with each tug. ¡°Persistent, huh?¡± The man sighed. ¡°Relax, I¡¯m not trying to hurt you.¡± ¡°Let me go, man!¡± Anger and fear mixed in Evan¡¯s voice. The overgrowth now covered Evan up to his nose. He felt his body again, but that didn¡¯t matter much now that he was cocooned in this plant vice. ¡°I¡¯ll be back.¡± The stranger removed his sunglasses. His irises had returned to normal. He jogged toward to the end of the short alley; the backpack slung over his shoulder. ¡°Hey!¡± Evan tried to shout, but the words were stifled by a mouthful of grass. The alley opened to a hill, where dozens of small houses gathered. The man made his way to one that was barely within Evan¡¯s sight. The building had slanted walls and frosted glass windows. Its white paint refracted with streetlight, partially obscuring its keypad locked door. The stranger pulled a vial out of his jacket, a small ivory flower inside. He shifted the vial to the other side of his coat and slinked up to the keypad. With a few button strokes, the door slid open, then closed behind him as he disappeared within the house. This was Evan¡¯s chance to escape. His powers might have been a blessing for the first time in his life. But before he tried to use them, a radio buzzed from across the road. Two enforcers proceeded up the path. Their gloved hands each tightened around submachine guns. They chattered indistinctly over their helmet radios as they marched up to the house. Evan hoped they¡¯d come because of the transponder. One knocked on the door; he had an officer¡¯s white stripe streaked across his shoulder pad. ¡°This is the FPD, open up,¡± he said. The idea of manifesting his powers instantly dissipated from Evan¡¯s mind now that the enforcers were there. Soon they¡¯d find him and bring him home. But what about Ken, then? No response came from the house. The officer pounded the door again. ¡°Come out, or you will be detained.¡± A window creaked open above them. The stranger tossed his vial at their feet. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this. Leave before someone gets hurt,¡± he said darkly. The soldiers jerked their guns up toward him. ¡°Put your hands in the air,¡± one of them called. The man sighed. ¡°Fine, whatever you say.¡± He thrust out his palms. His eyes radiated white again. Within the vial, the flower rippled and bulged, busting from its meek form, overcoming the insides of the glass housing. Thick vines cracked through and whipped at the Feds, wrapping around their arms, and binding them. ¡°He¡¯s Afflicted!¡± they barked. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Evan¡¯s eyes widened as the vines whipped around the soldier¡¯s heads. The stranger dangled a leg out of the window and sat on the edge. ¡°Playing nice now?¡± The officer shouted muffled calls over his helmet radio. ¡°I guess not.¡± The stranger tightened his fists, constricting the vines around their necks and yanking them to the ground. Their feet sunk deeper into the mud. Stressed breathing vented from the two as their armor popped and cracked. The radio chatter turned into screams ¨C guttural, curdling screams ¨C until only radio static remained. Their mangled bodies twitched under the twisting plants which sprouted new ivory flowers. The stranger dropped from the ledge and skipped over his vines to the dead bodies; his glowing eyes lasting longer this time. He snipped a single flower into another vial that he¡¯d procured from his coat, then concealed it again. After patting the bodies, he stepped away with one of their weapons, a radio earbud, and an extra magazine. He stroked the gun like a blind man reading brail. His fingers meticulously explored the firearm¡¯s lines, flicking off the safety, racking the charging handle, and stopping when they found the trigger. Evan gaped at the sight of this murderer as he casually pilfered the dead soldiers. Images of meeting the same fate flipped through his mind. If this guy could kill Feds without hesitation or remorse, then what more would he do to the Governor¡¯s kid? ¡°Let me go,¡± Evan pleaded. ¡°Help! This guy¡¯s Afflicted!¡± Each word a stifled mess. Sweat washed down his face, his chest thumping. Dizziness took him, his control slipped, and power filled his entirety. The air grew hot, and gravel floated around him, dissipating, and reappearing like glitter. The stranger turned his now brown eyes to Evan. ¡°You¡¯re Afflicted?¡± The beat of propellers broke the air as a helicopter came barreling above the town. Armor plating glistened from neon shopping signs below as two soldiers scanned the town with mounted turrets. The stranger dipped into the opposite alleyway. He looked back and forth between Evan and the oncoming reinforcements. Finally, he disappeared. Evan exhaled his anxiety, no longer needing to escape. All right, time to stop manifesting these powers. Stop it and be normal. Be normal. But his head buzzed, and the dirt still floated around him. Abduction, murder, Afflicted ¨C all these thoughts fused within Evan¡¯s mind. His powers were now beyond stifling, and that drove him into a deeper panic. Idiot, why¡¯d you try to use your powers? Feet clapped against the pavement, followed by the milling of radio chatter. The Feds would discover he was a freak. They¡¯d drag him to his father, who¡¯d have no choice but to give him up. It was either commit to the escape or lose everything. Please. He focused on his bindings. Nothing happened. The chatter came closer, hounded with the sound of guns jostling. Each call from the soldiers competed with Evan¡¯s thoughts. He pushed his mind, picturing the individual strands of grass around him. A group of silhouettes emerged from the dark end of the road, outlined by helmet lights; small at first, but growing as they marched toward him. Please, please, not today. He pictured the plants snapping, imagined them dissipating out of existence. The flashlights danced across houses nearby. ¡°Come on.¡± Heat poured through Evan¡¯s body. ¡°Come, on.¡± The twine did not budge. ¡°Please, come on, please, please, please,¡± he chanted, each word a more desperate prayer than the last. The echoing radio speech became clearer. ¡°Higgins and Sergeant Ross are down. Repeat, confirmation of an active Afflicted in the area.¡± ¡°Let. Me. Go,¡± Evan sputtered. Every aspect of him strained to actualize his powers. Seizure tugged at him. His body convulsed. But he pressed his mind into submission. A rumble shook the ground. Evan quivered. The weave trembled. Blood dripped from his nose. He fought to keep his eyes from rolling back into his skull. The snare writhed, shriveled, and then evaporated into dust. Evan didn¡¯t hesitate to dive around the corner of the alley ¨C helicopter patrolling above the streets. Its searchlight traced each path, but he stuck close to the walls. Squads of enforcers patrolled every alley. He rounded a corner, Feds. He turned again, even more. He was surrounded. There were dozens of doors, but none of them had handles, just code locks. He focused his hands on one of the panels. Just the lock, they won¡¯t notice. Panic jolted him. The entire door disintegrated. He swore. A blur of stars dashed across his eyes. Sweat seeped from his every pore. His arms burned with sharp pain and his mouth numbed. More lights trailed into the alley. He stumbled into the pitch-black house. His foot cracked against something, sending him to the floor. His body contorted and convulsed uncontrollably. Drool pooled underneath his head. His consciousness zipped away, and his thoughts spilled out, no longer sure of where or who he was. ***** Six years ago¡­ Evan¡¯s heart threatened to burst. Not even the music playing in his ears could outpace the beating in his chest. His stomach was in his throat, and his nostrils had retreated at the smell of ammonia. He wished that Ken had come with him, but father made him stay at the house with his security. ¡°Are you scared?¡± His father said, sitting next to him in a steel chair. The stain riddled purple carpet was a far more comforting sight, so Evan figured he¡¯d stare at it longer. ¡°Evangelos,¡± the Governor repeated. Evan¡¯s eyes parted with the floor and met his father¡¯s. But they weren¡¯t the squared judgmental eyes Evan had expected. These irises were the rare oval kind with raised eyebrows and tears barely in their wombs. ¡°Are you scared?¡± Evan nodded. There was silence, and Evan wondered if he was supposed to say more. There must be something more he was supposed to do, there always was. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± His father shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s alright. So am I.¡± Scared? You? ¡°Everything is going to be all right.¡± His faint smile soothed Evan. For a moment, Evan believed his father, trusted that everything would be ok. He believed that the nightmare could be over, and they could go back to life like nothing had ever happened. Like he was normal. A doctor approached them. Her face was half-covered by a medical scope, a telescopic tube held in place by a little arm that was attached to the back of her head. ¡°Governor Hendricks, she¡¯s conscious.¡± Father nodded and thanked her. ¡°Go ahead, Evangelos. I¡¯m with you.¡± Evan sucked in a deep breath, pulled down his headphones, and dragged his feet through the doorway. Mom lay shivering, despite being wrapped in a dozen blankets. Machines and coils ran the course of the room and along her bed, beeping or lighting up in their own ways. Her eyes were closed. No¡­ her eye¡­ the other half of her face was wrapped in blood-stained linen. Will she still love me? Evan pushed himself to her bedside and took up a soft hand. Her eyelid flickered open, and she stared back him. ¡°Hey, mom.¡± He managed a smile. She let out a croak. ¡°Mom?¡± Evan knew she was feeling pain. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­¡± She croaked again. ¡°Help¡­¡± ¡°What is it?¡± Evan reached over her for a glass of water by her bed. She flinched back and pulled deeper into the bed. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± he asked. Her eyes widened at Evan, and she screeched. ¡°Help me...¡± ¡°Hey, it¡¯s ok. I''m here, Mom.¡± Evan slipped his fingers back down to her hand, but she gripped the blankets tight. ¡°H-Help!¡± She said louder. ¡°Help!¡± As if Evan was some intruder, some beast. ¡°Hey, Mom, it¡¯s me. It¡¯s me¡­¡± He pleaded. ¡°Help! A¡­ Afflicted! Get away from me ¨C monster!¡± 5: "The Stranger" ¡­the present. Am I alive? Evan sensed his hands, his toes, his breath. He opened his eyes, and the world came into dim focus. The floor was cold concrete, yet the room was warm; the low drum of a heater filling the space. Around the room were toppled barrels, shelves, and an assortment of dusty containers. To the left, more junk, and his backpack which hung from a wall hook. Behind him was an emergency exit, barred shut by a large metal crate. His arms chaffed against something as he tried to move ¨C seemed his wrists were bound by rope to the shelving behind him. Murmurs came from behind an ajar vault door at the far side of the room, a sliver of light sneaking out of it to dance across the walls. If the enforcers had captured him, he¡¯d be handcuffed inside of an armored car on his way to some forsaken fate rather than sitting on the floor of this storage place. Evan took solace in that revelation; what little there was, anyway. He slid his legs underneath his hips to stand and shimmied his hands up behind him. The shelving unit wobbled. He winced as a glass cup tipped from the top of it and smashed into a dozen shards across the floor. The whispering from the vault stopped and the door squeaked open. The stranger emerged with another man, whose slender arms hung from a hole-ridden t-shirt; the faded words Tabula Rasa sprawled across it. His dark face was smudged with grime and oil, but his features were smooth, and his eyes warm. Evan caught a glimpse of what was inside the vault now. Dozens of computers and buzzing monitors were cobbled together around a rolling chair; if it could be called that, since it looked to be more duct-tape than chair. ¡°Well, Vihn, at least he¡¯s not dead.¡± The slender man ran his fingers through his papery hair. Vihn, the stranger, sighed. ¡°The Feds came looking for him faster than I thought they would. I didn¡¯t have time to ditch the phone before they found me.¡± ¡°Next time you get inspired to kidnap someone, maybe check their pockets first?¡± The man waved at Evan, who slid back to the ground. Pockets. Evan could feel his ID still in his right pocket, and Ken¡¯s in his left. ¡°I¡¯m Rowic,¡± the thin man said. He pulled a canteen from one of the crates and offered it to Evan. Shimmers of light waded against the metal interior, and Evan welcomed the sweet water. He¡¯d never thought he¡¯d long for water like did then. How rich the simple things were after confronting death multiple times in one day. ¡°So, you¡¯re the GK, huh? What¡¯s the chances you¡¯d take a train seat right across from Vihn?¡± Rowic said as he capped the canteen. ¡°Destiny,¡± Vihn said. Rowic rolled his eyes. ¡°I guess we have agents stationed everywhere for a reason. Why were you on the train anyway, Evan? I thought your father always sent an airship to pick you up.¡± The fact that these men spoke so confidently about Evan and his father concerned him greatly. He had to remind himself that one of these men had murdered two soldiers in broad daylight. That was enough to distrust them, not to mention the whole abduction thing. Still, he couldn¡¯t let them see his fear if he was going to maintain agency in the matter. Dust rose from the shelves and trembled by Evan¡¯s will, though he didn¡¯t really know what he was doing by using his powers, he just thought it¡¯d show them he wasn¡¯t a coward. Vihn spoke coolly, ¡°Relax, kid, we don¡¯t need a show. We¡¯re all freaks here, right?¡± The air settled. ¡°I¡¯m nothing like you terrorists,¡± Evan said. Vihn rubbed his brow. ¡°Spare me, kid-¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a kid. My name¡¯s Evan, let¡¯s start with that.¡± A chuckle rasped Vihn¡¯s lips. ¡°Fine, Evan. Let¡¯s clear this mess a bit. We¡¯re not terrorists, we¡¯re noble rebels standing up against tyranny.¡± He said with little conviction. ¡°Now, about you. I saw you run from those Feds for your life. Somehow, you escaped the snare I had you in, and I assume you had some means to breakout based on what happened to that door I found you drooling in front of. So, what¡¯s your power, and does your father know that you¡¯re Afflicted? It¡¯s hard to believe he wouldn¡¯t.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Evan mulled over whether it was advantageous to give information about his Affliction or not. His father had always taught him to weigh the pros and cons, to reserve info until the last possible moment. Intel could be a great weapon, and manipulating it was the only tactic Evan had now. ¡°What do you want with me?¡± he asked. ¡°Well, that¡¯s what we¡¯re trying to figure out.¡± Vihn knelt to Evan¡¯s eye level. ¡°But I asked you a question first.¡± Their eyes battled each other. Evan kept his silence, but inside him was chaos. Whatever this guy was after, it was worth kidnapping and murdering for. ¡°I¡¯m not Afflicted, I just want to go home,¡± he finally said. ¡°You can¡¯t,¡± Vihn replied. Rowic scowled. ¡°We can¡¯t keep him, man. You nabbed the son of the second most powerful man in the Federation. He¡¯s going to be gunning for us hard. We don¡¯t even have the rest of our team. Ow!¡± Rowic yelped as Vihn grabbed his shoulder. Interesting. It seemed Vihn didn¡¯t want Evan to know that they were the only rebels nearby. But now Evan did, which meant he¡¯d only have to focus on getting away from these two. Relaxing his hand, Vihn spoke softly. ¡°Think about it, that¡¯s the whole point. Imagine how people will react when they find out the Governor of the East has had an Afflicted son all this time? I mean, there¡¯d at least be riots over him. I¡¯m telling you, it¡¯s destiny.¡± ¡°You guys are crazy,¡± Evan cut in. ¡°If there was such a thing as destiny, then why are people dying needlessly every day? What about the destiny of those two soldiers you killed? They were only doing their job, and you mutilated them. What kind of destiny means people dying for no reason? What kind of destiny means killing innocents?¡± Vihn raised an eyebrow. ¡°Innocents? You¡¯re a fool if you think any enforcer is clean. Even if only one cop is corrupt, but twenty others ignore what he does, then you don¡¯t have one bad cop ¨C you have twenty-one.¡± What could Evan say to that? He¡¯d witnessed enforcers do things just as horrible as Vihn, and he couldn¡¯t pretend that they were justified for what they¡¯d done to Ken. ¡°You¡¯re probably right, Evan,¡± Vihn continued. ¡°We are a bit insane. But we¡¯re called the Blood Red Army for a reason. Wouldn¡¯t be living up to our name if there wasn¡¯t some blood spilt now and then.¡± Evan¡¯s heart dropped. The Blood Red Army? ¡°You¡¯re the guys who started the Affliction.¡± Vihn sighed. ¡°We can debate about history later,¡± Rowic said. ¡°The Governor¡¯s going to be looking for his kid, man. He¡¯ll rally the whole East Coast if he has to. We were supposed to be flying back to Alpha with the rest of the team by now, but it¡¯s suicide for them to try and extract us with the Feds swarming the town. Geeze, Vihn. If you had waited, Blink could have solved this whole thing before it even started.¡± Vihn argued, ¡°There wasn¡¯t time to tell the others. The tram was coming into Hazard Station and I¡­ Look, the Governor¡¯s kid is a mutant freak, running around under the radar; think about that. I¡¯ll bet he¡¯ll do anything to keep this a secret.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what scares me,¡± Rowic said. Evan asked, ¡°So, you kidnapped me to get to my father. What about the other three Governors? What about President Caine?¡± Vihn licked his teeth, perhaps he was getting impatient. ¡°It¡¯s not easy running a transcontinental empire from Canada to Chile. Affliction here in the East, foreign invasion in the North, rumors of succession from the West coast, and civil war in South America? It¡¯s a lot for an empire to handle. History repeats itself, kid. The Federation is just as at risk of burning out as the rest of us. If there was a time for the whole system to collapse, it¡¯s now.¡± Evan refused to be someone¡¯s pawn. He formulated a plan to escape. It seemed these rebels weren¡¯t intent on killing him, so he had time. He just had to disintegrate the ropes binding him, and then the wall, then run without passing out this time. He took a deep breath and focused on the rope. In the meantime, further embellishing the idea of his father¡¯s potential desperation could help keep the two rebels arguing long enough for him to escape, or maybe give up all together. He tried not to think about how he was about to use his father as a threat for the third time in one day. ¡°My dad has spent years hiding my identity,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re an idiot if you think he¡¯ll let two goons like you get away with this. People who mess with us go missing.¡± Vihn didn¡¯t respond, he just stared at Evan like he did on the train, with snake¡¯s eyes. Evan didn¡¯t budge either, despite the thumping in his chest. Someone knocked on the door to Evan¡¯s right, breaking the stare-down. Vihn slid open a window in the door. Another man¡¯s face filled the opening. A long, red beard mossed over his neck, mixing into expansive tattoos of sea creatures. Uproarious laughter and the clinking of glass flowed in. Smoke and vape gripped the atmosphere. A guitar, drums, and indistinguishable voices played from speakers. Evan guessed it was classic rock playing, though he¡¯d hardly be the one to know. It was rare to hear music with real vocals and instrumentalists. Most modern music had been replaced by AI systems that created procedural rhythms and beats that responded to a listener¡¯s emotions. It was impressive thinking that the rock had to be played by mastered musicians all in sync. Evan caught himself nodding to it, but it was the wrong time to admire music. He focused on the rope again, but it was already gone. His hands were free. His power must have worked without him realizing. Vihn wasn¡¯t looking, but Rowic was. So, instead of running, Evan kept his hands together as if they were still tied and listened to what the rebels had to say. The red-beard on the other side of door whispered to Vihn, ¡°Feds are knocking down doors, probably us soon. Want me to clear the place?¡± Vihn shook his head. ¡°We¡¯re dead if you do. Keep things normal, we¡¯re going to have to risk it in the vault.¡± The man grunted, then turned away as Vihn closed the door window. Vihn motioned to the vault room. ¡°We¡¯re running out of time. We¡¯ll talk inside there. I¡¯m going to untie you; please don¡¯t do anything stupid this time.¡± He stooped to Evan and fumbled for the rope, which wasn¡¯t there. The stranger smirked. ¡°Freaky and impressive.¡± He hoisted Evan to his feet. The moment for escape had passed once again. 6: "The Purifier" Evan reluctantly followed Rowic and Vihn into the small shelter just beyond the vault door, which Vihn closed behind them. Thick cushioned walls faded with grease stains surrounded this smaller room. Gaps in the cushioning revealed the hard shell of lead walls. Giant monitors and keyboards populated half of the space. The monitors were overcome with thick coils of wires and piping. The interior of a pub could be seen on one of the computer screens to the right. It had long tables, overtaken by dozens of patrons, and high stools with solitary drinkers at a bar counter. A purple backlight illuminated an array of beers and scotches, upstaged by several knobs of tap beer. A large metal sign hung on the sidewall, ¡°Chill Pub and Grill,¡± it said. The bearded man worked behind the counter, tending to a small group of patrons. In the vault, Rowic dropped himself into the rolling chair and slid toward the keyboards. His hands stroked the keys in rapid succession. Evan was certain this had been the hacker who controlled the drone and tram earlier. Feeds of a Federation inquisition displayed on the other monitors ¨C dozens of soldiers busting in doors, patrolling alleys, and scanning the IDs of rounded up pedestrians. ¡°Man, they want you bad,¡± Rowic said. Vihn frowned. ¡°Nothing changes.¡± Evan couldn¡¯t tell if the enforcers were searching for him, the rebels, or both. He debated if he wanted the Feds to find him or not. Maybe his father had already orchestrated a way to rescue Ken, making Evan¡¯s rogue mission pointless. How would Evan manage to find his friend anyway? Conversely, if his father had given up on Ken, there might never be another chance to save his friend again. No decision felt right, and so his mind squabbled, his decision window closing with each moment. A deep pound of hydraulics reverberated from outside, drawing the attention of Evan and the rebels to the pub¡¯s feed. A squad of four soldiers advanced inside, followed by a monster of machinery. It was a robotic suit of white armor, more than twice the size of an average person. Protruding from the top of the suit was a brick-of-a-man''s face, which had deep scars and sun-darkened skin. His muscles moved in synergy with the suit, akin to a medieval knight. Armor plates shifted with each step, revealing rubber joints and strips of light. A floating metal halo spun evenly just above his buzzcut head. His pupils twitched independently, reflective with inner amber lights, retracting and expanding like focusing camera lenses. ¡°Great,¡± spouted Vihn from within the vault. ¡°Purifier.¡± Rowic clicked off several switches and toggles. The monitors and systems whined as they powered off, except for a single feed of the pub. The room became silent, interrupted only with the stowaways¡¯ low breathing and the rumbling heater. The suited man prowled the pub, a bipedal gorilla. His eyes scanned the patrons with the dour gaze of a hawk. The patrons held silence, hunched over their drinks, adverting eye contact with the soldiers. The bartender turned up the music volume and then continued to wipe down the countertop. The armored ape-man approached the bar, bumping tables and chairs with quivering people in them. The wood floor depressed underneath each of his steps. He stopped at the counter and stretched out his large, gauntleted hand. His palm lit up with a blue projection of the bartender¡¯s face, lines of text scrolling beside it. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The purifier¡¯s voice was like rolling thunder, heralding a coming storm. ¡°Zachary Stenson, D5-1002. Let out of incarceration with indefinite travel and familial restrictions. Past involvement with militant rebels.¡± Letting out a deep sigh, Zachary lowered a hand underneath the counter. His fingers brushed over a concealed pump shotgun. The purifier¡¯s eyes followed this movement, almost as if he could see Zachary¡¯s hand as it slipped further down to a beer glass. His focus shifted to the back wall. Inside the vault, Vihn motioned with his finger to stay silent. The purifier turned his right ear in their direction and ordered, ¡°Music.¡± Zachary nodded and rotated the knob of the archaic sound system. The rock seeped away. As this happened, Rowic flipped a toggle and a deep tone pressured Evan¡¯s ears. The purifier stood still as a statue. Cold sweat beaded over Evan. The rhythm of his heart felt louder than anything else in the room. He caught himself as he almost let out a breath. After minutes that seemed like hours, the purifier surveyed the pub one last time, and then followed the soldiers outside. The group exhaled. Rowic turned on the other monitors and off whatever device had created pressure in Evan¡¯s ears. Zachary met Vihn at the door again. ¡°Looks like that junky system still works.¡± ¡°This work of art just made sure we¡¯d live another day,¡± Rowic shouted from within the vault, and massaged his keyboard lovingly. ¡°Well, whatever you call it, those Feds looked like tools out there.¡± Zachary fed a rich brown bottle through the small window. ¡°Guess I lost the bet. I¡¯m going to lock up for the night.¡± ¡°Thanks for the sanctuary so late notice.¡± Vihn¡¯s grin was as strong as his grasp on the bottle. ¡°Rest easy, rebel man.¡± Rowic swiveled to Vihn as the bartender walked away. ¡°Looks like Joseph Krow¡¯s still kicking.¡± ¡°He has upgrades too.¡± Vihn leaned against a terminal. ¡°None of this is working out.¡± ¡°I told you this was how it¡¯d end up.¡± Evan wondered where he¡¯d be if he hadn¡¯t triggered the transponder. The purifier was horrifying, but if anyone could save someone from Afflicted rebels, it was him. Noticing an opportunity, Evan pressed into the rebels¡¯ fears. ¡°Like I said, the Governor won¡¯t stop until he saves me. Let me go and they¡¯ll forget about you.¡± Vihn smiled dismissively. ¡°There¡¯s little we can do right now with the Feds running around. We¡¯ll deal with all this tomorrow when the rest of the team shows up. But don¡¯t worry, kid. We have a plan that¡¯ll make sure you make it out of here with us.¡± ¡°Yeah? What¡¯s to stop me from blowing a hole in the wall and getting that purifier to stop you?¡± ¡°Try it.¡± Evan knew he couldn¡¯t. And if he could, more people would die. More blood to his name. That wasn¡¯t who he was, not who he wanted to be, not how he wanted to solve his problems. Vihn said, ¡°We both know you don¡¯t have much control over your power. It¡¯d be funny seeing you flop around on the floor again, though.¡± Evan socked him in the face. The terrorist stumbled back. Rowic jumped from his chair. The heat of power built up in Evan. He didn¡¯t know where the impulse came from, but he felt the buzz of adrenaline. Was that the first time he¡¯d ever thrown a punch? His knuckles ached, but it was worth it to see the surprise on Vihn¡¯s face. Vihn waved his hand and massaged his jaw while chuckling. ¡°Ok, now you¡¯ve hit me, what¡¯s next, kid? You can¡¯t use your powers because you might not be able to stop once you really get going. What happens when Krow sees what you are? You think your father is going to be able to control that beast from ripping you apart? Trust me, junior.¡± He dropped his hand and backed Evan up. ¡°I know Krow. He ¨C will ¨C kill ¨C anyone. Old lady, suckling babe, scrawny teenager. Being a GK doesn¡¯t matter to him because he only has one directive: Puri-freaking-fy.¡± Evan took a deep breath and the power seeped away from him. He was trapped, and this man knew it. He focused on a clear goal: Save his friend without anyone else getting hurt ¨C If he could accomplish that, then he didn¡¯t care what happened to him. He¡¯d have to bide his time, though. There¡¯d be an opening, and he¡¯d be ready. What was once good could be good again. Monster. ¡°Always a pro at making friends, my guy,¡± Rowic said. Vihn flashed him a rude gesture. Rowic clucked his tongue. ¡°Someone needs a nap.¡± Spending the night with Afflicted rebels in a vault hidden behind a sketchy bar was far from how Evan expected his day to go. When they fell asleep, that¡¯s when Evan could make his escape. 7: "Unification Day" - Six years ago Six years ago¡­ Evan lay on a beach next to his father, breathing in a moment of peace. The sand burned; not a scalding kind of burn, but with the warmth of a million squishy grains pulling him down into the earth as ripples of water chased after his toes. Music poured from his phone, melding with the sky and waves so that it was hard to tell what beauty belonged to the world or to the instruments. Evan could have stayed there on that beach with his father forever, but even the Sun was forced to retreat from the encroaching night. His dad smiled with his eyes closed and patted Evan¡¯s arm with a coarse hand. ¡°Happy double-digits, son.¡± Then came his mother¡¯s sharp voice from far off. ¡°Evangelos.¡± Evan turned to her, a false note in an otherwise perfect symphony. His mom stood in the doorframe of their beach home. She was a slender woman with reddened eyes that wilted even when she smiled; though, that day there was no smile. Father hadn¡¯t budged. She called again, her voice a taught chord, ¡°Evangelos.¡± ¡°Yes, Laura?¡± Father asked flatly. ¡°It¡¯s happening,¡± she said. He sat up; his expression hardened. Evan stopped the music. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± he asked. His father turned to him. ¡°Let¡¯s say goodbye to your guests for today, it¡¯s gotten late.¡± They hurried inside their home, where servants swept away the remnants of wrapping paper and dinner plates around the living room and kitchen. ¡°Leave it,¡± Father ordered. The servants obeyed, making their way out of the house. Evan searched for his party guests, but it seemed that they had already been ushered out by Father¡¯s security, except for some business associates and Ken, who stared out the front window. It was lame that none of the others had waited to say goodbye. Though, he knew they had only come to the party because their parents worked with his. Ken was the only one invited by Evan (not without resistance from Mom). He wasn¡¯t normal, according to her. Ken waved at Evan. ¡°Hi.¡± ¡°Hey. What¡¯s happening?¡± Evan asked. Ken shrugged. His glasses made his eyes look cartoonish, and his nose and head were a bit on the rounder side. He chewed on the collar of his shirt, which always meant he was nervous. Evan patted his back. ¡°Hey, thanks for coming to my party. It wouldn¡¯t be fun without you.¡± ¡°Was fun,¡± Ken mumbled. He also gave shorter answers when he was stressed ¨C stress which spread to Evan. They watched the street together, but there wasn¡¯t much to see besides a line of cars leaving the gated community. A television rasped with the voice of a news guy, Terran Lucky. He was a stiffed-backed man with a tight collar that aligned perfectly with his jaw. ¡°It is official. The Purifier Initiative will be implemented starting immediately,¡± he said. ¡°President Nero Caine has the following announcement.¡± Father stared at the TV, while Mother paced behind a couch. Their closest associates huddled around them, whispering. Evan usually ignored these broadcasts; but this time it was hard to tune out. ¡°Today marks the age of unification. The decades of war are finally over.¡± ¡°Scary,¡± Ken said. Evan agreed. ¡°Let¡¯s go to my room.¡± ¡°Your room,¡± Ken repeated. The two scrambled up a short flight of stairs to a bedroom flooded with clothes. Ken immediately sat crisscrossed on a small bench that faced the outside window. ¡°We have been plagued and ripped apart by arrogance. Today, we will become a whole nation.¡± The TV was loud enough that President Caine¡¯s muffled voice had followed them upstairs, despite Evan having closed the door. He tried to ignore it, until the last line demanded to be heard. ¡°Today, we will be reborn and finally undo the curse. We will undo separation. We will undo the Titan Project.¡± ¡°Undo the Titan Project,¡± Ken said. The speech sounded like every other speech Evan had heard before. He¡¯d known few students from school were sent away for being sick with Affliction. But the Titan Project was something he¡¯d never heard of before. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Undo the Titan Project,¡± Ken repeated, but this time in a deeper voice. Biting his collar and copying voices ¨C that was his thing. ¡°Undo the Titan Project,¡± he said in perfect mimicry of the President, including the muffled nature of the TV stream, along with some quirky facial twitching. He was doing it again. Evan swung the door closed and stuffed a bundle of clothes under the crack to block the sound. Ken said the whole speech now as if he had been the original source. It was his power, his Affliction. He¡¯d had the ability since he¡¯d turned eleven, not even Evan¡¯s parents knew about it. Evan was supposed to tell them, but he didn¡¯t want Ken to be sent away, so he hid his friend¡¯s power whenever he got like this. Evan sat next to Ken who repeated the speech on loop. ¡°It¡¯s ok, man. Everything¡¯s ok. It¡¯s over.¡± He patted his friend¡¯s back, and the mimicry stopped. ¡°It¡¯s ok, E-friend, it¡¯s ok,¡± Ken agreed. Evan sighed. ¡°I think it¡¯s time to go home, buddy.¡± ¡°Something¡¯s outside.¡± ¡°What?¡± Evan¡¯s joined Ken at the window. Now he knew fear. A line of cars had been halted at the community gate by a wall of armored Federation vehicles. Dust kicked into the air as a small hovercraft circled above the streets. A voice called out from the sky, ¡°Stay in your homes and vehicles. Federation personnel will approach you momentarily. Please be prepared to offer your citizenship identification.¡± A procession of tiny eyeball-like drones swept over the streets to the line of cars and community of houses, accompanied by squads of enforcers. Families stepped out to meet with the soldiers as the drones scanned them and their IDs. After a moment, the soldiers would nod to each other and then pass to the next person. The Federation never bothered people in this neighborhood before. It was like a bad dream. Evan wanted to look away, as if ignorance would make it stop, but he hungered to see what would happen. He pulled the curtains closed and held them tight to his eye so he could still see outside. ¡°He¡¯s not sick,¡± Ken said in another man¡¯s voice. The act jolted Evan. He recognized the voice, and it was clear who Ken was copying. A drone had scanned a kid from Evan¡¯s birthday party, Lucas. His parents worked with his Father in the mayor¡¯s office. Lucas was as neat as they came ¨C clean hair, clean sweater. He never cried or yelled: quiet kid altogether. But right now, snot ran down his lips in all directions as he sobbed. Evan felt sorry for him, but he didn¡¯t know why he should be. Maybe it was because he hated to see a nice kid like Lucas crying so much. Lucas¡¯ mom pulled him back while his dad argued with two soldiers. Evan pressed his ear to the window but couldn¡¯t make out what they were saying. Thankfully, Ken¡¯s powers made him an excellent speaker system. ¡°Scan him again,¡± Ken said in the dad¡¯s voice. One of the soldiers shook her head. ¡°That won¡¯t change anything.¡± ¡°Do it, you¡­¡± Ken stopped the translation. ¡°He swore.¡± Evan let out a nervous chuckle. ¡°That¡¯s okay, buddy, just skip that part.¡± Ken continued with the soldier, ¡°Your son registered as Afflicted positive on this quarter¡¯s national blood test. According to the Purifier Initiative Act, we are authorized to detain him immediately.¡± ¡°Please,¡± Lucas¡¯ mom pleaded. ¡°Please. He¡¯s not one of them, he¡¯s not. Try again.¡± The soldiers reached for Lucas. ¡°You can¡¯t take him!¡± His dad punched the lead officer. Evan hoped it would end there. Maybe they¡¯d just be upset and write them a ticket or something. But no, it didn¡¯t stop there, and Evan couldn¡¯t find the strength to look away. The mom shrieked a horrible cry. The other soldier bashed the back of the dad¡¯s head with a rifle, dropping him to the ground. He didn¡¯t move. Ken and Evan looked wide eyed at each other in utter shock. They both turned to look outside again. The mom yanked Lucas behind her. ¡°He¡¯s not one of them,¡± she cried, Ken continuing to relay her words. ¡°He¡¯s not one of those things.¡± At this point, Ken had picked out Lucas¡¯ crying, and intertwined it with the mom¡¯s yelling. ¡°Mommy!¡± Evan had enough. ¡°Cut it out, Ken.¡± ¡°He¡¯s not one of them! Give him back, give him back!¡± ¡°Mommy! Mommy!¡± ¡°Stop it!¡± Evan shoved Ken off the bench, breaking the power. Ken stared at Evan with whimpering eyes. ¡°Hurt me, E-friend.¡± ¡°I¡¯m-I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean it.¡± He pulled Ken back up. A rapping came from outside. Evan ran back to the window and saw that the nightmare had spread to his home as well, as soldiers with an eyeball-drone entered through his home¡¯s front door. Only one thing came to mind: hide. ¡°Come on, buddy.¡± Evan grabbed Ken by the arm and made for the door but was stopped by the sound of clambering feet and muffled voices coming up the stairs. ¡°He¡¯s in my son¡¯s room, officers,¡± Ken said, copying Evan¡¯s mom. Then came his father. ¡°Laura.¡± ¡°What? They asked to see him.¡± ¡°They have no right¨C¡± Evan shushed Ken and tugged him underneath the bed. They tried as best as they could to pile clothing around the gaps, leaving a small space to peek through. The door creaked open. Four sets of feet entered: Two sets of black boots, a set of heels, and a set of bare sand-covered toes. ¡°They were here,¡± Mother said. Evan¡¯s heart rattled in his chest. Please don¡¯t find my friend, please don¡¯t find him. A rhythmic hum closed in on the bed. The drone poked over the wall of clothes, peering directly at Evan. The wall of clothes toppled as two gloved hands dragged him out. He kicked, he pulled back, but it was a useless effort as he was yanked up by a soldier. Another brought Ken to his feet. Most light was voided out by their dark blue body armor, covered in pockets and magazines, rifles slung over their shoulders. They held on to Evan and Ken, their half-visored heads turning to Father. Father glanced at Ken; his arms crossed. He scowled at Laura, then closed his eyes. ¡°Go ahead.¡± ¡°Dad?¡± Evan always trusted his father, but this was wrong. The drone scanned Ken. There was nothing Evan could do but wait, hoping that the soldiers weren¡¯t going to take his friend. The men nodded to each other, then turned to Ken. ¡°Kenneth Doleson, you, and your parents have each tested positive for Affliction. Come with us compliantly for everyone¡¯s safety.¡± Heart hammering, Evan jumped in front of Ken and shouted, ¡°Leave him alone.¡± The air grew hot, like summer winds wrapping around him. ¡°Evan!¡± Mom scolded. ¡°They¡¯re not taking my friend.¡± As his anger flared, so did a sensation that he was melting, like the world could turn to ash before him. His mom grasped at his arm. ¡°This needs to happen. This isn¡¯t about us, Evan.¡± Evan yanked back. ¡°No. He can¡¯t hurt anyone, he just makes funny voices, that¡¯s it!¡± She grabbed him, her nails digging into his arms. ¡°It¡¯s going to be ok, love.¡± ¡°No!¡± he shouted, breaking her grasp on him. ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± She reached for him again, that lying smile taking form. He shoved her hands away. In a snap of time, half of her smile disappeared, along with half of her face. Blood spurted across the room as his mom dropped to the ground writhing, cupping at the fleshy mess that used to be her cheek. Evan fell back to his bed, his vision blurring, looking over his¡­ his hands. No, they couldn¡¯t be his hands. He couldn¡¯t be¡­ ¡°He¡¯s one of them¡­¡± his father gasped. The soldiers drew their rifles. Evan shielded his face, and his enemies were no more. 8: "Choices" - the present ¡­the present. The clink of a glass bottle woke Evan, having fallen asleep wrapped in a thermal sleeping bag. Waiting for the rebels to sleep first hadn¡¯t worked. Sure, Rowic lay swaddled in his own sleeping bag, but Vihn sat awake at the monitors. His body glistened under the blue light as he swayed back and forth in the rolling chair, right to left, the bottle in his hand clinking hollowly against the console with each pass. Evan pushed himself up and walked over to Vihn. If overpowering him wasn¡¯t possible, and out sleeping him had failed, maybe talking might work. The stranger stared blankly at the photo of the blonde in his other hand. ¡°Do you ever sleep?¡± Evan asked. Vihn sniffed. ¡°I might sneak in two hours on a good day.¡± Evan studied the monitors. The streets were empty except for neon phantoms of shadows and billboards. ¡°It looks like all the soldiers are gone.¡± ¡°Looks that way, but that¡¯s not the case. We only have so many cameras, and they¡¯ve figured out where. They¡¯re hiding in our blind spots and left the cameras operating so we¡¯d think it was safe.¡± ¡°If they knew we were here, why wouldn¡¯t they attack right now.¡± Vihn shook his head. ¡°They probably don¡¯t know our exact location, or how many of us there are. Rowic¡¯s running a scrambler that tricks their scanners. They could keep busting down every door, but Hazard Station has a tenuous relationship with authority. It¡¯s not worth the risk of provoking a riot. They can wait us out.¡± ¡°You know a lot about their tactics,¡± Evan said in a deliberately inspired tone, hoping to encourage further discussion, see what useful info he could glean. He admittedly realized how forced his inflexion may have sounded. I¡¯m not a master of conversation, he had to remind himself. Not a master of anything really. But it wasn¡¯t the time to wallow in self-doubt. ¡°I do,¡± Vihn said. ¡°A few of the members in our cell are ex-enforcers.¡± Ex-enforcers? Hard to imagine any enforcer would live long enough in the presence of someone like Vihn. ¡°So,¡± Evan asked, ¡°then how do you plan on escaping with me?¡± Vihn didn¡¯t speak, he just pointed at a black dot on one of the screens, a smudge that glided past the Moon. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Ad Astra, my airship.¡± ¡°The Blood Red Army?¡± ¡°Yep.¡± ¡°Kind of a dumb name,¡± Evan said, detecting Vihn¡¯s tone as an internal eyeroll. Vihn nodded. ¡°Pretentious name, idealistic group. That¡¯s why we keep dying.¡± ¡°Is that why you created the Affliction? Thought life would be better with some powers?¡± ¡°Life always sucked, and still does. And we didn¡¯t create the Affliction, kid. That¡¯s just propaganda. But why ask me? You won¡¯t believe anything I say.¡± Vihn¡¯s head swooned. ¡°I guess I probably owe you some answers. No, we didn¡¯t create the Affliction¡­ You know, Andrea loves to talk about this crap, you should really ask her.¡± ¡°Who?¡± ¡°Our fearless leader. The Ark, some call her.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t sound like you¡¯re convinced by her nickname.¡± Vihn rolled his head back. ¡°Maybe she¡¯s less of our salvation, and more the queen of idealistic fools.¡± His vulnerability was bleeding to the surface. Evan devised how to exploit it and open an opportunity for escape. ¡°You don¡¯t seem to like her much. Why do you follow her?¡± he asked. The stranger stayed silent for a moment, and Evan couldn¡¯t tell if it was because of drunkenness or contemplation; perhaps a bit of both mixed with a healthy amount of exhaustion. Finally, Vihn said, ¡°you ask a lot of questions, kid. What makes you so interested?¡± Evan shrugged. ¡°Just seems like you¡¯re following a cause you don¡¯t believe in. Why don¡¯t you just leave them?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because...¡± Vihn¡¯s voice grew taught. ¡°They¡¯re all the family I have¡­ since politicians like your father killed the others.¡± The photo in his hand crinkled in a tightening grasp. If only Vihn knew what Evan¡¯s father had done to protect him since the beginning, and how he was the farthest thing from a murderer compared to Vihn. But rather than defend his dad, which Evan doubted would get him anywhere, he tugged on Vihn¡¯s lose emotional threads. He asked, ¡°was that her in the photo? Your family?¡± Vihn shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s Farfa. Ongoing chapter of my life.¡± He flicked the picture onto the desk. ¡°Love or something?¡± ¡°Something.¡± Vihn propped his elbows on the desk and rested his chin on his interlaced fingers, dangling the bottle loosely. Evan sat on the edge of the desk. ¡°Look, man, I don¡¯t know anything about this stuff. But I have someone I care about too, a couple of people, and I need to help them before it¡¯s too late.¡± ¡°I have a goal too, kid.¡± Evan scoffed. ¡°To ransom me? Try and rally the people against my father? No one will believe you, and he won¡¯t pay.¡± Vihn smiled thinly. ¡°I get the feeling that you understand your father less than you realize. No, ransom isn¡¯t the point, not anymore anyway. For years the Feds have been rounding us up, killing us, putting us in jails, enslaving us ¨C all for the greater good of society. When people find out about you, and the lies the Governor has been telling, that might just be the push we need to overturn people like your dad; maybe the whole system will topple with him.¡± Evan had always imagined that his powers could threaten his father¡¯s career, but not the Federation all together. Again, being used was the last thing he wanted to be. ¡°I¡¯m not going to be your pawn.¡± ¡°Sorry, but in life, you don¡¯t get to choose. Not even kings or queens do. You were born with your role, and I was born with mine. We¡¯re all just guided by an invisible hand, while we cry out for freedom, for a choice, but in the end not mattering enough to even be heard.¡± Anger boiled up in Evan. Destiny. No, he wasn¡¯t going to sit by and let people he cared about keep dying because it was meant to be that way. He determined his life now. His emotions must have bled to the surface, because Vihn¡¯s face tightened. ¡°Alright, kid. This bottle¡¯s set my head straight. Let¡¯s test fate, then.¡± He let the bottle slip from his fingers. It clinked against the floor and drifted against the chair¡¯s leg, somehow not waking Rowic. ¡°If I wake up and you¡¯re not still here, then I¡¯m wrong and you can call me on my BS.¡± Evan opened his mouth to rebuttal but caught his words when he realized that his plan might have worked. ¡°This might be fun.¡± Vihn folded his arms and leaned back in the chair. ¡°Hey! If you can challenge destiny, maybe I can too, huh?¡± He chuckled. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Evan yanked on his hair victoriously when Vihn finally closed his eyes and began snoring shortly after. Now was Evan¡¯s chance to get away from these psychopaths. The vault door had no handle or crank. Evan searched for something to open it but found nothing. Instead, he put his hands against the wall next to it, sucked in a deep breath, and fell forward as the whole thing disintegrated at his fingertips. His mind spun, but this time he was ready for it. He allowed himself to breathe a moment, keeping his incapacitated captors within eyesight. Once he¡¯d recovered, he swiped his backpack from the shelves and left through a back exit. His heart leapt as something beeped when he passed through the door, but when he turned back, the rebels still slept. He shook it off and bounded into the night. The Moon hung lazily above the town. The road was glossed over with the wetness of expired rain. Tiny clouds formed in front of Evan¡¯s lips with each exhale. He hugged the shadows on his way to the tram station, careful not to walk into the Moon¡¯s shining blanket. He wasn¡¯t sure what the Feds would do if they caught him, but he decided to play it safe rather than risk any more drama. When he saw the tram¡¯s light, he expected to feel a burden lift from him, finally able to wake up from this fever dream and get back to trying to find Ken. Then a humming came from behind. Evan turned. Bright beams of light sped toward him. He dove out of the way. An armored car swerved in front of him ¨C ¡®F.D.P.D.¡± sprayed across its thick side. A side door popped open. Two enforcers jumped out. He stumbled backward and ran down an alley. Something bit his leg. Electricity jolted throughout his entire body. He fell to the ground, twitching from the shock of a stun dart in his thigh. The two Feds carted Evan inside of the cramped vehicle. He couldn¡¯t get a hold of his thoughts, other than flashes of his friend going through the same situation. The Feds brought him back through the front door of the pub. At the far side of the room stood the purifier, Joseph Krow, his metal halo floating above his head like an angel¡¯s. Opposite Krow sat Zachary the bartender, handcuffed to a chair. Bruises clotted his features. A chord stretched from his arm to a heart monitor. The Feds placed Evan in a chair next to him. Krow held his gauntlet out to Evan¡¯s face, big enough to crush his skull, and read the text that emitted from it. ¡°Evangelos Hendricks Junior, B3-1984, son to Governor Evangelos Hendricks. Missing person¡¯s report filed yesterday at 1800 hours.¡± The projection dissipated as he lowered his arm and faced Evan. ¡°The perimeter alarm we placed here was triggered upon your exiting of the pub.¡± The purifier¡¯s eyes traced Evan. Then locked on his backpack. ¡°I saw this in the back of the pub earlier this evening, held in the back storage room. You were not seen or heard, however.¡± The purifier studied the back wall. ¡°Separate chamber. Lead walls. Tonal filtration...¡± His voice trailed. This is it; he¡¯s going to figure out I¡¯m Afflicted or mistake me for a rebel. Zachary coughed. ¡°He was just staying at the pub for the night, he came back from the market right after you left.¡± Evan looked at the bartender, who didn¡¯t look back. ¡°Probable.¡± Krow reached behind the bar. He ripped the shotgun out from behind it. It squished between his fingers, the parts plopping to floor. Then he turned to Zachary. ¡°Possession of firearms is restricted from ¡®D¡¯ class personal. Execution is marked as sufficient punishment for your breach of law.¡± ¡°What? Leave him alone!¡± Evan stood in protest. He must have looked like the biggest idiot. Evan, a pool noodle, standing up to King Kong. ¡°The Governor, sent you to find me, right? I¡¯m here, take me home already.¡± But Krow kept his eyes locked on Zachary. ¡°If you have any revelations regarding local Afflicted, your sentence may be postponed or modified.¡± Zachary held silent. Evan¡¯s heart raced. How could the bartender be so willing to die without giving up Evan or the others? He could tell Krow everything; Evan''s Affliction, the vault, Vihn and Rowic. Was he really going to sacrifice himself to protect them? If that was the case, Evan wasn¡¯t about to let another person die for him. Power radiated from him, cracking the floorboards beneath his feet. That got Krow¡¯s attention, but nothing changed in those artificial eyes of his. I¡¯m an idiot. ¡°Evangelos. Your Affliction is noted.¡± Krow barely swatted Evan¡¯s shoulder, yet his body crashed back into the chair. Evan¡¯s spine cracked. He rolled, clawing at the searing pain. Krow¡¯s gauntlet wrapped around the bartender¡¯s head. Zachary closed his eyes. ¡°End it.¡± Joseph Krow¡¯s grip tightened around Zachary¡¯s skull. Grunts of anguish ran from Zachary¡¯s mouth. The feeling of power itched within Evan¡¯s chest. He¡¯s dying because of you, you freaking twig. He cried as the pain in his back held him to the ground. Zachary¡¯s face turned dark red, and his eyes ran bloodshot. Agony expelled from his lips. The hydraulics of the purifier hissed with increasing pressure. The floorboards beneath Evan crackled into tiny splinters. Move! He forced himself up. Two stun darts found their way into Evan¡¯s body, and double the pain sent him curling to the ground again. All he could manage was to shout, ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°Protecting the Federation,¡± Krow said. His gauntlet cracked through the bartender¡¯s skull; blood spurted over his fingers. Zachary¡¯s shrieking stopped. The lifeless body slumped as the purifier pulled away. Evan screamed. Tears flooded his eyes. ¡°You killed him! You killed him!¡± His pain turned to deep hatred. ¡°He didn¡¯t do anything!¡± He imagined Joseph Krow¡¯s head crushed, too. The atmosphere blazed with heat from Evan¡¯s powers. The stun darts melted. Krow wiped his gauntlet with a white cloth. ¡°Governor Hendricks¡¯ secondary directive is complete. The primary directive to extract Evangelos Jr. is¡­ compromised.¡± Secondary directive? What was the first? To kill¡­? The past flooded Evan¡¯s mind. His mother lay on the floor, squirming in her own blood, cursing her son for what he had done. For what he would do now. ¡°If you want a monster ¨C then here I am,¡± Evan said. Dust and blood floated into the air, taking him up with it as he envisioned this murderer¡¯s death. Flecks of the purifier¡¯s skin tore from his cheek. The man¡¯s eyes widened. The halo above his head materialized into a full helmet that hid away face. Evan floated a foot from the ground. He could feel the deepest threads of reality around him, all of creation in its smallest form; and he was nothing compared to it. His powers torrented out of his control. A gust of force pushed everything and everyone away from Evan. Krow skidded backward across the floorboards. Panels opened on the sides of his feet, shooting short braces out from them, cracking through the floor, and stabilizing his body while the other Feds tumbled over each other. The familiar strain of seizure rocked Evan. His body continued in its cataclysm. The power peeled away parts of the purifier¡¯s helmet around his face, revealing a sliver of Krow''s amber eye. A blue glow radiated throughout the lining of his suit. He reared back his gauntlet and thrust it at Evan. Propulsions of circular waves shot from his fist and slammed Evan over the bar and against shelves of liquor. Wood and glass exploded in a shower of alcohol. Evan sputtered for breath. Heavy pressure wrapped around his chest and back as the liquor rushed down his face. The Federation soldiers pulled themselves out from under toppled tables and chairs. One soldier shrieked like a child, dangling upside down, blood gushing from his legs which were fused to the wall. Joseph Krow¡¯s feet unlocked, and he walked toward Evan. ¡°Evangelos, your Affliction is a danger to this nation. Your assault on Federation personal is treason. Execution is marked as sufficient punishment for your breach of law.¡± Evan gurgled through blood, unable to speak. His body was numb, and he could barely think. Each beat of his heart matched with the solid steps of the purifier; whose gauntlet ignited again. Then vines cracked through the back wall and meshed around Evan. The gauntlet fired. The plants ruptured against the blast. Another wave of tendrils ripped through and pulled Evan into the storage room. Gunfire crackled after him. More vines burst from the ground, catching the bullets. Vihn dashed behind the cover of his plants and flung Evan over his shoulder. Great lashes of flame spewed from Joseph Krow¡¯s gauntlet, grasping across the vines, and igniting them in plumes of orange, yellow, and black. Vihn rushed Evan out of the back exit toward a green Jeep, where Rowic sat as the driver. Evan''s vision faded, his body twitching. ¡°Hang in there, kid.¡± Vihn laid Evan in the backseat of the Jeep. Vihn wiped away the glow in his eyes and jumped into the passenger¡¯s seat. The vehicle burst forward. ¡°They killed him, man, they cracked open his head, did you see? Oh god, man!¡± Rowic cried out. ¡°They¡¯ll kill us too if you don¡¯t focus on driving!¡± Vihn cocked the submachine gun he had taken from the dead Feds earlier. He pressed a finger against his ear. ¡°Phoenix, rabbit is running, requesting capture.¡± Engines grunted behind the Jeep. Two Federation armored trucks barreled after them. The Jeep swiveled across the pavement out of the town. A hatch popped open on top of the lead truck, followed by an armed soldier. Vihn spewed a wild sigh as he leaned out the left window with the submachine gun and fired several bursts. A sharp turn threw Vihn against the window frame. The weapon tumbled from his hands out onto the road. ¡°Rowic!¡± ¡°Hang on-¡± The back window cracked as something zipped above Evan¡¯s face, and into Rowic¡¯s shoulder. Crimson splattered across the dashboard. The Jeep swerved again. ¡°Oh, god!¡± Rowic slumped against the steering wheel. Vihn lunged across Rowic¡¯s body and guided the vehicle from the passenger¡¯s seat. The sky sputtered with the thumping of propellers. The helicopter was back. Dozens of emotions filtered through Evan¡¯s mind: fear, dread, desperation, and most prominently: anger. He steadied his breath, faced the Federation chopper, and pulled for focus from each corner of his thoughts. Cycles of fury directed his motions. He thrust his right hand at the air, his left-hand gripping onto the seat. A burning sensation shot through his chest. The flying machine remained unaffected. He pushed harder to focus. Evan¡¯s vision tunneled, blackness pouring in from the edges of his sight. He could feel the whirl of propellers. Air thrummed against his palm. There was a smell, a deep, musky smell of burning oil. Evan clenched his hand. He could imagine each of the rotating blades in against his fingers. He clenched his fingers into a fist. One of the blades snapped in half, raining shrapnel across the road. The helicopter spun to the earth like a top and pounded into the lead truck in a blaze of fire. The second truck ramped off the debris and flipped through the air. The gunman flew into the ground as the truck crushed him from above. ¡°Holy-¡± Rowic¡¯s voice faded as Evan fell back into the seat. Muffled sounds rung against his ears. A shimmering hull of metal descended from the sky. A white light flashed before Evan¡¯s eyes, an angel, welcoming him to the end. 9: "The Blood Red Army" Evan jerked awake, matted in sweat. If he was dead, then he certainly hadn¡¯t made it to heaven. First, he smelled mildew and rust, then he noticed grime-streaked metal floors. Strips of lights around this room produced a muddy glow over everything. Scattered wires chased the corners of the room. Brass pipes created a labyrinth of humming metal along four walls and into a vented roof. Though, it was more of a closet than a room, with the right and left walls close enough for Evan to touch at the same time. Behind him was a rack of boxes, and ahead of him a sealed door with a turn-wheel. His brown coat stretched over his body like a blanket, while he lay on a yellow stained mattress on top a raised metal slab. The night replayed in his mind. The bartender¡¯s death rattled him. Crunch. Thud. Crunch. Thud. He sunk back to the mattress which might as well have been a bed of nails. I killed people, again. He thought. I gave in, just like everyone said I would. The mutilated bodies of soldiers wracked his brain. But they would have killed me if I hadn¡¯t done something. His stomach churned. Brisk air nipped at his chest. My chest. His body was stiff underneath his thick coat. He sat up, yanked it off, and slid his hands in search of the damage Krow had done to him. Instead, his fingers glided over slick green vines that hugged his skin tightly. Purple bruises peaked between gaps in the plants. It felt like someone was squeezing his lungs as he took shaky breaths. He ripped off the vines and prodded his body in disbelief. Everything was in the right place, even where he was certain he should have broken bones. It was still too dim to see, despite the strip lights, but he could feel that the damage had been reduced to small creases where the skin was scarred by what may have been surgical incisions. He sat forward, his body shaking. The Feds had to know he was Afflicted now, there was no hiding it after what he did in Hazard Station. All those years protecting his secret were wasted ¨C his mom¡¯s death, his dad¡¯s careful planning, and his friend¡¯s sacrifice ¨C all of it. He should have never boarded that train. The door creaked open. He prepped himself for what might step through it ¨C but he wasn¡¯t ready for it to be a normal looking girl. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail except for a collection of bangs that brushed across her cheek and over green eyes. A cross necklace swayed around her thin neck. She wore a grey sweater and black pants, both with their share of holes and frayed stitching. Her lips curled into a smirk; her voice led by grand dimples. ¡°Cool,¡± she said. White light enveloped her. Evan blinked and she was gone, leaving behind nothing but an open door. He stared blankly at the spot where she had been, certain he wasn¡¯t insane (or maybe he was). ¡°He¡¯s awake!¡± Came the girl¡¯s voice again, a muffled thing, like an echo dancing through a metal cave. Once again, Evan crossed Federation custody off his list, uncomfortably certain he¡¯d been dragged deeper into the rabbit hole that was the Blood Red Army. His father¡¯s voice replayed in his head. The key to a position of power is to act before forced to react. So, Evan willed himself to stand and zipped up his coat. The front was stained with an unfortunate muddy red splotch. He swallowed the musty air and stepped through the door, ready to confront these people. He found himself in a narrow corridor. To his left was a hatch with the words ¡°Port Turret Controls.¡± To the right were a couple more doors before the hall curved out of sight, and where voices murmured. Clank! ¡°H¨ªjole!¡± came a woman¡¯s voice, followed by a muffled boom. ¡°What was that?¡± a familiar voice shouted. The woman responded with a string of curses. Cold metal grating vibrated beneath Evan¡¯s bare feet as he crept around the corner. Another, smoother voice, called back. ¡°Ny dropped her tools and is taking it out on Addie.¡± ¡°Daniel, I¡¯m going to kill you,¡± the woman said. A younger girl interrupted. ¡°Hellooooo, did anyone hear me?¡± ¡°Sorry, I meant Shrapnel, is trying to blow us up,¡± the smooth voice corrected. The familiar voice grumbled, ¡°Well, stop that.¡± The woman let off another barrage of expletives. The young girl cleared her throat. ¡°I saaiiid-¡± What am I about to walk into? Evan thought as he rounded the corner into an open room. The walls were lined with flight seats and straps. A man lay in the right section with his legs stretched out. He held up a tablet and swiped through its display. At the center of the room was a compartment where someone worked head deep; grated panels shunted to the side. There was another hall at the opposite side of this room where the blonde girl stood with her arms crossed. The girl cleared her throat. ¡°I saaiiid.¡± She waved an arm at Evan. ¡°He¡¯s awake.¡± The guy with the tablet dropped his feet to the floor, and a woman poked her head up from the floor compartment like a hedgehog. The three of them stared at Evan. He suddenly felt like he was wearing someone else¡¯s skin. The woman sat herself up on the edge of the hole, whipped her multi-colored bangs from her face, and scratched a shaven patch of hair on the side of her head. She wore a tank top, revealing arms sleaved with flame tattoos that contorted as her arms flexed. The man slouching on the seats called to the hallway with his goatee lined mouth, ¡°Hey, guys? He¡¯s awake.¡± ¡°Fantastic,¡± replied the voice that Evan recognized as Vihn¡¯s. The young girl sighed but didn¡¯t take her eyes off Evan, making him feel uncomfortably warm. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Something walked in from behind Evan. It was a boy, about his age, with bleached hair, green eyes, and another cross necklace. His eyes widened when he saw Evan. He opened his mouth and pointed energetically at him. The girl nodded. ¡°Yep.¡± The boy formed signs with his hands. The girl made similar gestures back. With a judicious smile, the boy reached a hand out to Evan. What else was he to do but shake it? After they met, the boy strolled over to the girl, giving Evan a weird sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu when staring at them side by side. Twins. Now, four strangers stood in silence, studying Evan as he searched for something to say. Despite recent events, waking up in a weird place surrounded by weird people still wasn¡¯t something he rightly knew how to react to. Vihn walked in from the far hall, hunched over by a sloping roof. ¡°So, he lived.¡± How was Evan supposed to react to the man who kidnapped, used, and forced him into exposing his powers? Evan didn¡¯t know what possessed him, or how he managed to close the gap of at least twenty or so feet as fast as he did, but his fist connected with Vihn¡¯s jaw again. This time Evan regretted the sudden overcoming of emotion, noting it as a dangerous pattern. Vihn grabbed his face and stared back at Evan with dark eyes. ¡°Blink.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± Evan was blinded by a white light. He stumbled in the radiance, and quickly found himself tripping into a bed. Clarity returned. He was in the room he had woken up in. He went to exit, but the girl was there and managed a ¡°Sorry.¡± Before slamming the hatch in his face. He slid to a stop and pounded on the door. ¡°Let me out!¡± he screamed. No one responded. Evan huffed. ¡°That was a stupid thing to do,¡± he said to himself. ¡°Well done.¡± He slid to the floor with his back against the door. Every moment that he was trapped there, was a moment that either his friend might be killed, or that his father might be arrested. Control, Evangelos, he remembered his dad say. Cap your emotions. They can¡¯t hurt you or anyone else if they are hidden. He reflected on that. He had hurt people because his emotions took over. If only he were an unfeeling husk, then maybe nothing bad would happen to him and those around him. Someone knocked. ¡°You going to sock me again if I open this?¡± Vihn asked. ¡°Because, I can just have Blink teleport you outside next time, though it¡¯d be a pretty high drop.¡± ¡°I hate you,¡± Evan whispered. There was no response. Evan closed his eyes. ¡°I was just trying to help someone I cared about. Now a bunch of people are dead, the Feds know I¡¯m Afflicted, and I¡¯m a prisoner ¨C because of you. I hate you.¡± Evan didn¡¯t feel any better having said it. Vihn sighed. ¡°You and me both, kid.¡± The door creaked open. Evan stood to face Vihn. ¡°Alright,¡± the rebel said. ¡°I guess I owe you better answers. What do you want to know?¡± Since running away from the rebels hadn¡¯t worked, and fighting was moot, perhaps it was time Evan tried to turn them into allies. He shook off his stress. ¡°Just tell me where we are.¡± ¡°Do you want longitude and altitude?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t you just answer my question?¡± He paused. ¡°Don¡¯t you mean latitude?¡± ¡°Right¡­¡± Vihn said. ¡°Come with me.¡± He brought Evan to a small room at the head of whatever this was ¨C then it became clear it was Vihn¡¯s airship, Ad Astra. The cockpit was a narrow arrangement that Evan had to duck into. It was encased in a panorama of glass, with computers and consoles laden throughout it. At the helm were two chairs, one of which sat Rowic who manned a flight stick. ¡°Howdy,¡± the hacker said. Evan may have disliked Vihn, but he found Rowic to be alright. Vihn sat in the thick chair next to Rowic. ¡°Make contact yet?¡± ¡°Yep.¡± Rowic pointed to his headset. Vihn put on a similar device. They flew lower over a wide forest of round topped trees. The Sun was just rising. If Evan had been at the Academy, he¡¯d hear the morning train about now. ¡°This is Phoenix One, requesting flight path,¡± Vihn said. There was a muffled reply from the headset. ¡°Copy,¡± he replied. The ship descended steadily toward the woods below them, and it was obvious that the slivers of spacing between the leaves would not be enough for a successful landing. Evan asked, ¡°you¡¯re not trying to land here, right?¡± ¡°Check this out.¡± Rowic pointed at a concentration of taller trees. Vihn relayed instructions. ¡°Phoenix One, making touchdown.¡± The canopy dissolved before them, exposing grand city ruins, smeared by a great fog that made them look like an oil painting. ¡°There¡¯s no way¡­¡± Evan gawked. Rowic sniggered. ¡°You sound like someone who doesn¡¯t live in a world full of meta-humans.¡± Ahead of them was a range of mountains. A portion of the rock face shook and separated to form a large hole like that of a missile silo. The ship diverted through the opening into a tunnel and was swallowed by darkness. Headlights snapped on, guiding the ship through what looked to be an abandoned railway tunnel. The ship hovered in place. Shunt! Light poured up from below them as four slices of the ground pulled back, revealing a cavern beneath. The ship descended into the gaping mouth, down further past the surface through a massive tube of concrete, florescent lights, and copper pipes. Words tumbled from Evan¡¯s lips. ¡°Where... are we?¡± Rowic twirled the chair and faced Evan. ¡°West of Philadelphia, deep in the Trans American Metro-sewer system.¡± ¡°You mean-¡± ¡°Yep, ground zero. The city above us is where it all started.¡± ¡°Titan Project?¡± ¡°Yep, and the Affliction.¡± It boggled Evan¡¯s mind. Never had he imagined he¡¯d make it within a mile of the Great Wastes where the rebels had attacked the Monolith Industries lab. It happened before he had been born, but his parents told him that the explosion killed everyone in the city, and the disease spread out to the surrounding cities from DC to Boston before anyone realized what the true damage of the attack would be. The people closest to the fallout died from rapid mutation, and those a bit further was infected with a dormant form of Affliction that took a week later to show any symptoms, and by then it had already spread to millions. One in every hundred people would either develop Affliction or be born with it, and it was a dormant gene ¨C impossible to detect until puberty. Thus, Evan¡¯s life story. He asked, ¡°How hasn¡¯t the Federation found this place?¡± Rowic stretched his hands behind his head. ¡°Well, they know we¡¯re here somewhere, but every time they¡¯ve come searching, a lot of people die, or they can¡¯t find us. Between mind manipulators, mutant animals, biohazards, holograms, and hackers ¨C it¡¯s not worth their time. ¡®Sides, they know they can wait us out. We have to scavenge for survival, and because they have the general populace on their side, every time someone pulls a stunt to get back at the Federation, we end up creating a thousand more Federation enlistees.¡± He gave Vihn a side glare. That was a bitter realization. The conflict at Hazard Station could have created many more enforcers, people who¡¯d think they were protecting their loved ones. Well, from what Evan had experienced, they would be protecting them. ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Vihn said. Rowic swiveled back to his flight controls. The tube opened into a world of which resembled something that Evan had only seen in movies. Before him was a subterranean city carved into concrete and rock. It was like descending through a space station, or a dwarven city ¨C as odd as that seemed fitting. From bottom to top, dozens of terraces ribbing it like a stack of giant tires, with tunnels branching out from it. As they descended further, it was apparent that there were more tunnels that ran off from the terraces, like that of a termite colony. Everything was lit by amber floodlights, television screens, and barrels of fire. Across the terraces were tiers of shanty houses stacked along the walls of the expansive city. A waterfall rushed out of a maw and dumped into a river that bisected the tunnel straight through the middle of the city. Arching metal braces held the concrete ceiling where trickles of water fell to join the river below. People skimmed across the canal by way of small boats, which they pushed forward with poles three times their height. Crowds milled about the city levels like ants. Once low enough, Evan witnessed dozens of video screens crowding around the topmost floor, each broadcasting the news. ¡°Breathtaking?¡± Rowic asked. It was stunning, but the city wasn¡¯t what stole Evan¡¯s breath, but rather the utter dread he felt seeing his father¡¯s face on every screen. 10: "Rebels, Purifiers, and Nightmares" There his father was, live on the Federation of America News broadcast. He stood behind a podium of microphones outside of their family house in Dogma Isle. His tan skin was more wrinkled than Evan remembered, edged with combed gray hair. Something kicked Evan¡¯s heart as he watched, hearing nothing as his father¡¯s mouth moved. ¡°Why can¡¯t I hear the broadcast?¡± he asked. Rowic and Vihn kept their eyes on their controls, not yet acknowledging what was going on. The hacker said, ¡°Our ship blocks out most sounds, pretty airtight. Don¡¯t worry bro, we¡¯re almost landed. See something good on?¡± ¡°His father,¡± Vihn said, looking up. ¡°Oh,¡± Rowic said, finally seeing it all. Never had Evan found himself anxious to hear what his father was saying on TV. What was the Federation saying about the Governor? What was he saying about Evan? He wished he could read lips. Ad Astra dropped onto a platform amongst a ragtag fleet of airships. Some were sleek, others rotund, each with a mix of wings, engines, and guns. ¡°Landing ramp¡¯s down,¡± Rowic announced. ¡°The news always loops, so no ru¡ª.¡± Evan sprinted out of the cockpit, through the main crew bay, past the rebels as they were exiting the ship. He bumped into someone but was deaf to their complaints. Despite being outside of the ship, his father¡¯s voice was a muted thing. Evan continued toward the edge of the landing zone, mid-level to the rest of the base. He grabbed hold of a set of railings. The scent of sewage and burning fires wafted through his nose as he watched the screen. His father¡¯s voice battled with the roar of water and a swell of people chattering in what looked to be a marketplace with hundreds of booths. By the time Evan was close enough to hear the program, the broadcast flashed away from his father¡¯s face to a man and woman in suits sitting across from each other in an interview. A banner explained what the meeting was about, New CEO of Monolith Industries takes over while Governor Hendricks focuses on district affairs. Evan slumped to the guardrail. The man was the Governor¡¯s second in command, Charlie Crain. What was going on? ¡°Congratulations Mr. Crain,¡± the woman started, ¡°on your recent acquisition of the CEO title and position of Monolith; a very daunting role to fill.¡± Charlie wound his mouth into a shark-toothed grin, ¡°Sure. I¡¯m blessed the Governor would consider me for the position.¡± ¡°Why is it that he has? Does it have to do with the Hazard Station Massacre?¡± the reporter asked. ¡°Certainly. The recent incident demands his attention, more than he can provide while also maintaining our nation¡¯s leading tech entity. Thus, he trusted me to look after Monolith in the meantime.¡± Bull. Father would have rather died than give up Monolith. It was more likely President Nero had something to do with this. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°They make it sound like they¡¯re going to cover everything up,¡± Vihn said as he leaned over the guardrail next to Evan. He took a swig from a flask in his hand. Evan scowled. ¡°It doesn¡¯t make sense. They talk like he¡¯s still in office. But if this whole thing is my fault, and they know I¡¯m Afflicted, they would have¡­¡± ¡°Killed him?¡± Vihn asked. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t they?¡± It was a weird sensation Evan felt ¨C in one mind, he was beyond grateful his father seemed to be fine, but the other part of him knew there had to be something far more sinister behind this. Vihn chewed the corner of his lip. ¡°Can¡¯t say, kid. But these broadcasts are just propaganda. They run them on loop. I bet if we stick around for a bit, they¡¯ll show your dad¡¯s interview again.¡± Evan sighed and waited with Vihn until they played footage that he couldn''t believe they had. It was the pub from Hazard Station, from the perspective of a body camera. It showed legs splayed out from whomever the camera belonged to, but they didn¡¯t move. Other Federation soldiers lay mutilated and screaming in agony. Krow¡¯s body ignited with energy, the moment after he¡¯d knocked Evan back into the bar and was about to kill him. But the shot was angled so that it never showed Evan¡¯s mangled body. The scene cut away right as Vihn¡¯s vines crashed through the wall. The reporter¡¯s next words were a jumbled mess as Evan tried to wrap his mind around what he¡¯d just seen. But before he could process it all, they played his father¡¯s interview again. ¡°Governor Hendricks,¡± the reporter said, ¡°what are your plans regarding the terrorist attack carried out by these Afflicted terrorists, which resulted in the deaths of several Federation enforcers and civilians yesterday?¡± The Governor frowned. ¡°We grieve the noble officers who died protecting the people of Hazard Station. Affliction is dangerous in any and every form, and I am finished seeing these things make good people suffer. We are increasing our efforts to restore peace. I have enlisted the war hero, Purifier Joseph Krow, to head our new initiative in bringing these terrorists to justice. I am confident that he will root them out from every hole.¡± ¡°Fun guy,¡± Vihn said. Evan ignored him. The reporter asked, ¡°your son, Evangelos Jr., he was last seen boarding a tram that had passed through Hazard Station that day. Is he alright?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± the Governor answered. Evan furled his brow, unable to predict where this was going. ¡°I thought it¡¯d be a good idea to send my son to the North so he could get a broader sense of the Federation before returning home to intern at Monolith. Fortunately, the attack happened after he had boarded another train to Montreal.¡± ¡°Ah, that makes sense.¡± The reporter leaned in. ¡°Now, the last question we have is one from the public. Some people were concerned about your resolve regarding Afflicted recently. Do you have any comments?¡± Without a lick of emotion, the Governor said, ¡°I have no sympathy for the Afflicted. In fact, the same day of the attack, I had ordered the arrest of a mutant at Nero Caine Academy.¡± What? ¡°Wasn¡¯t it your adopted son?¡± ¡°It was,¡± It¡­? The Governor continued. ¡°But like most Afflicted, there was no way of detecting the corruption until a later age. I¡¯m only thankful we could stop it before anyone was hurt. I did not hesitate to have it arrested when we received the notification. These things have no place in our society.¡± The reporter nodded. ¡°That¡¯s good to hear you say. As always, you remain a great example of the strength of our nation.¡± Something twisted and burned inside of Evan. It couldn¡¯t be true. If they were covering up Evan¡¯s Affliction, then they could also be forcing his dad to lie, make him a puppet. Or maybe his father had found a way to cover everything up himself. There were too many questions. Evan clutched on to hope that his father was lying to the news. Vihn shook his head. ¡°Remember what I said? If the public ever learned that the GK had powers this whole time, the Feds would lose the East. You¡¯re their dirty secret.¡± If Evan was going to figure this out and get home, there seemed to be only one person who could help him ¨C the rebel leader. ¡°I want to speak to Andrea.¡± Vihn flashed a crooked grin as he looked past Evan to something behind him. ¡°Then speak to me,¡± another voice said. Evan turned to see a pair of mixed matched eyes staring back at him; one the depth of ocean, and the other the Moon¡¯s reflection.