The skyline glowed with the amber hues of the setting sun, but all eyes in the bustling city square were drawn to the skyscraper towering above. From their perch atop a smaller building across the street, Nyota, Kilo, and Aurora watched in tense silence as the massive digital canvas spanning the skyscraper's entire side flickered to life.
The emblem of Zteel emerged, bold and unmistakable, accompanied by the words: "Big Sis is watching, but we just changed the channel." The crowd below erupted into cheers and chants, the sheer energy palpable even at their height.
Nyota pressed a finger to his earpiece. "Sage, it's up. Looks like you're clear."
"Confirmed," Sage's voice crackled through. "Kai and I are heading out. Be ready to move if things get ugly."
"Roger that."
"Tell him his quote stinks," Kilo said, laying down across the ledge with his hands resting behind his head. His brow furrowed as he sat up over it. "Hey, Nyota, do you think this is really going to do anything? What if this just makes things worse?"
Nyota sighed, glancing down at the growing agitation below. "That's the question, isn't it? We wanted to make a statement, but what if we're just throwing fuel on the fire?"
Aurora, standing between them, folded her arms tightly. "This is what we planned. Stir things up, push people to act. I will say that we didn't plan for this kind of chaos, though." She hesitated, then squared her shoulders. "If it gets worse, we're leaving. All of us. The crowd's on its own from here."
As Nyota peered down at the collection of protesters, a pang of unease twisted in his chest. The energy in the square was tense yet fragile, like a glass teetering on the edge of a table. To him, the operation felt incomplete. The entire idea was to inspire hope, not to risk turning frustration into violence.
He inhaled deeply, steadying himself as his eyes swept over the crowd. The chants rose like waves, loud yet oddly cohesive, carrying the resonance of shared purpose. For a fleeting moment, he thought perhaps the worst could be avoided—that the tension might simmer down if given space.
But his hope shattered in an instant.
A sudden commotion snapped through the charged atmosphere. Heads turned as a single, jarring act broke the fragile equilibrium. An RSAA soldier pushed into the throng, their movements deliberate and aggressive. In a blink, they slammed a protester to the ground, the impact audible even from Nyota's perch. A collective gasp rippled through the square, raw and jagged, before dissolving into a tidal wave of outrage.
The crowd erupted.
Below, Malcolm's heart pounded as chaos engulfed him. Bodies pressed in from all sides, and the once-organized mass turned into a sea of shouting, shoving figures. He stumbled backward, his breath shallow and uneven as he tried to anchor himself amid the frenzy.
"This is a disaster," he whispered, his voice lost in the din.
He returned his gaze high to the side of the same skyscraper, where the Zteel insignia blazed across the electric billboard. Its clean, polished design seemed surreal against the backdrop of violence.
Malcolm's stomach twisted. He had seen that symbol once before—on the letter sent to him a few days earlier. It had promised change, justice, and a brighter future. Yet now, its presence felt hollow, even mocking, as the square unraveled into chaos.
Instinctively, his hand slipped into his jacket, pulling out the folded letter. Shielding it from the turmoil, he carefully opened it, his trembling fingers brushing over the insignia stamped at the top. The words inside offered nothing new, only vague promises that now felt naive at best, insincere at worst.
They were supposed to help, not make things worse. The thought hung heavy in his mind as he glanced from the letter to the glowing emblem above. Once a symbol of hope, it now seemed like a spark that had ignited the fire spreading through the crowd.
Around him, the violence escalated. Shouts turned to screams, and objects flew through the air. Glass shattered nearby, and the acrid tang of smoke began to curl into his lungs. Malcolm's thoughts raced, each one darker than the last. He had believed in what Zteel stood for—or what he thought it stood for. Now, doubt crept in like a shadow, eroding the trust he hadn't realized was so fragile.
The insignia loomed over the square, its brightness casting harsh shadows on the chaotic scene below. For the first time, Malcolm found himself wondering if the ideals it represented had failed before they'd even begun.
Desperation surged within him. He needed to escape, to find some semblance of safety amid the madness. But as he searched for a way out, the billboard's light bore down on him, a glaring reminder of how quickly lofty ideals could crumble under the weight of reality.
--
"Are we still meeting them at their building?" Kai asked, glancing over at Sage as they moved swiftly through the skyscraper's winding hallways. Most of the office employees within the building were drawn to nearby windows, overlooking the chaos below.
Sage kept his gaze forward, his tone calm but clipped. "As far as I know, the plan's the same—on the rooftop of their building. Opposite side of the street."
Kai frowned, her steps slowing just a fraction. "Opposite side? That street was already packed when we came in. You hear that out there?" She gestured toward the faint but unmistakable sounds of chaos filtering in from outside.
Sage didn't break stride. "Yeah, things sound like they've gotten bad. We'll assess when we get out there."
Kai glanced over her shoulder as they moved through a nearly empty hallway. "Everyone's distracted. No one's coming after us."
"Don't jinx it," Sage muttered, though a faint smirk tugged at his lips. His senses remained on edge, his eyes scanning for any sign of trouble.
As they passed an open office door, voices drifted into the hallway, the tone sharp and irritated.
"Do they think shutting down an entire square is going to accomplish anything?" one man scoffed.
"Exactly. Half of us couldn't even get to work on time because of this nonsense," a woman chimed in, her voice laced with exasperation.
Another voice added, lower but no less pointed, "The government's doing what's best for everyone. They just can't see it."
Sage's jaw tightened, the dismissive tone of their remarks grating against him.
"Let them cry about it," someone else said with a bitter laugh. "They'll give up when they realize Lunanova doesn't budge for anyone."
Kai frowned, shaking her head. "They act like the protesters don't even matter."
Sage sighed, his expression hardening. "They don't see it because it's not their reality. Let's focus on getting out of here."
They moved cautiously toward the next door, bracing themselves for whatever awaited on the other side. The employees' words stung, but there was no time to dwell. Sage and Kai exchanged a brief glance, then quickened their pace, leaving the voices behind.
They rounded another corner and descended a final staircase, the muffled noise growing louder with every step. The air at the base of the stairwell felt heavier, almost vibrating with the commotion beyond the lobby doors.
When they reached the glass entrance, Sage and Kai stopped dead on the concrete steps just outside, their eyes widening as they took in the scene.
A chaotic mass of people surged through the square, the protesters and RSAA soldiers caught in a tense struggle. The square, which had been filled with chants and placards earlier, now echoed with sharp commands and shouts of resistance. Yet, despite the turmoil, the RSAA moved with calculated precision, swiftly corralling smaller groups and pushing the crowd back with practiced efficiency.
Though the initial surge of chaos was overwhelming, the tide was beginning to turn. Soldiers formed barriers with shields, guiding protesters away from the central square and funneling them into adjoining streets. The sharp sound of whistles and the hum of communication devices suggested a coordinated effort to de-escalate the situation rather than escalate it further.
Kai shook her head, backing up a step. "There's no way we're crossing this," she said flatly. "Meeting them on that rooftop is not happening."
Sage cursed under his breath, pulling out his earpiece and quickly fitting it into place. He pressed two fingers against it, his voice urgent but steady. "Nyota, do you copy? As you can see, this square is a war zone. The rendezvous point might have to change."
There was a crackle of static before Nyota's voice came through, strained but clear. "We see it too. Where are you?"
"Across from you," Sage replied. "We're outside the skyscraper, on the steps. But there's no safe way to cross right now. You're going to have to hold tight while we figure this out."
"We'll try to come down," Nyota replied. "I don't think this is going to die down anytime soon."
Kai shot Sage a look, her jaw tight. "What now?"
Sage pressed the earpiece again. "We'll find a way. Just stay low and keep an eye on each other. I'll call back with a plan."
He turned to Kai, his expression grim. "We're going to have to move through the edge of the square. Stick close to the walls and hope no one notices us."
Kai gave him a wary look. "You make it sound so easy."
"It's not," Sage admitted, already scanning the chaotic scene ahead for the best possible route. "But sitting here isn't an option either. Let's move before it gets worse."
Together, they descended the steps, their footsteps hesitant at first as they prepared to dive into the maelstrom below.
On the rooftop of the other building, Kilo paced nervously. "People are getting hurt. SHould we get involved?"
Nyota nodded. "Yeah, I'd think so. None of this was supposed to happen."
"We can't do anything about it," Aurora doubled down. "This may not be what we wanted, but we can't risk having our covers blown yet. "
Nyota challenged. "But—"
With the shake of her head, Aurora raised a hand, cutting through their exchange. Her voice was calm but firm. "We've done what we came here to do. Trust me—this is not going to be a pretty ending, but if we stay, we risk everything. We're pulling out."
Below, Malcolm found himself trapped. The crush of bodies surged around him as the RSAA's line advanced, their shields glinting ominously in the waning light. He coughed as tear gas filled the air, stinging his eyes and throat. Desperation clawed at him as the RSAA closed in, his voice faltered. The riot roared louder, the chaos consuming all.
Despite the air thick with tension, signs of resolution emerged. Protesters, though vocal, began to disperse in small clusters, their anger replaced by weariness as the RSAA's control over the square tightened. While the scene remained far from calm, it was clear the riot would not spiral into prolonged anarchy.
However, not everyone managed to leave unscathed. While many protesters took advantage of the openings in the RSAA's lines to slip away into the surrounding streets, most were not so fortunate. The soldiers moved quickly to detain individuals they deemed instigators, filling armored vehicles with those taken into custody.
The sight of friends and fellow demonstrators being dragged away left a somber mark on the thinning crowd, their chants fading into uneasy murmurs as the square gradually emptied.