The dark alleyways of the Lower District were never quiet. The buzzing of old, faulty machines echoed through the narrow streets as Kaïra walked, eyes scanning her surroundings. She wasn't looking for anything in particular, but she knew the city like the back of her hand. In these streets, where life was cheap and survival was a constant struggle, every corner held secrets. Today, she was searching for something more desperate "food".
Her younger brother, Renzo, had fallen ill. The kind of illness that drained the spirit more than the body, leaving him pale and weak. She had tried to bring him comfort, but there wasn't much to offer. Kaïra had spent the last two days scrounging through the market, looking for anything that could ease his suffering. But the rich and the well-off hoarded all the good food, leaving the lower districts with scraps.
Kaïra's stomach growled as she made her way toward the crowded market at the edge of the Lower District. The stalls here were run by the desperate, the struggling, the ones who had no choice but to sell the little they had to survive. The air smelled of stale bread, spoiled meat, and something foul, but Kaïra had long learned to ignore it. She knew the best places to get food for next to nothing
if she was quick enough.
She slipped through the crowd, keeping her head low. Her eyes darted from stall to stall, watching the vendors closely. The elderly man at the bread stall had just brought out a fresh batch, warm and soft, but she didn't have enough to buy any. It wasn't just the bread she needed. It was the scraps, the leftovers, the things others didn't want. She would find something, she had to.
Her fingers brushed against a ripe loaf of bread on a nearby stall, and without thinking, she pocketed it. She couldn't afford to hesitate. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. Her heart raced in her chest as she moved through the crowd, blending in with the others. But her instincts screamed "someone was watching" .
The vendor had seen her.
"Hey!" the old man shouted, his voice raspy but loud enough to catch the attention of the people around. "Thief!"
Kaïra's breath caught in her throat. Panic surged through her veins. She turned, darting between the throng of people, her eyes scanning for an escape. The vendor's son, a lanky boy with dark eyes and a sharp jaw, pushed through the crowd, his eyes locked onto her. He was fast, but Kaïra was faster.
She ran.
Her legs carried her swiftly, darting between stalls and into the narrow back alleys where she felt most at home. The boy's footsteps echoed behind her, but she knew the winding paths of the Lower District like the lines on her palm. She veered left, then right, ducking under a low-hanging sign and through a hole in the wall that led to a forgotten passage.
She heard the boy's voice call out, but it was fading. She was losing him.
For a moment, she allowed herself to breathe. But she didn't stop. She kept running, heart pounding in her chest, adrenaline surging through her limbs. The city might have been her cage, but in these streets, she was the one who ruled.
After what felt like an eternity of running, Kaïra finally slowed down, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She glanced around. She had reached the edge of the Lower District, the border where the beaten, filthy streets gave way to the clean, polished buildings of the Upper District.
She ducked into a small alcove hidden behind a tall stone wall, tucked just out of sight. Her eyes darted around, her body still trembling from the sprint. The alley was quiet, the only sound the hum of distant machines from the city beyond. Here, the streets were clean, and the people who walked them were well-dressed and oblivious to the suffering just below their feet.
She could hear the faint buzz of hovercars in the distance, the sound of higher society moving on with their day, unaware of the desperate lives below them.
Kaïra sank to the ground, clutching the loaf of bread against her chest. She wiped the sweat from her brow, her breath finally steadying. For a moment, she let herself relax. She was safe, at least for now.
But just as she leaned back against the cold stone, a flash of movement caught her eye. She glanced up quickly, but it was too late to hide. A tall figure wearing a dark uniform had crossed into the area. Kaïra froze, her heart skipping a beat. She knew that uniform. The agents. The ones who were always watching, always listening.
Kylen.
He was tall, his dark hair falling over his sharp features. But it wasn't just his appearance that made her stop. It was the way he moved. His eyes seemed to scan the world around him, as though he could see everything in the city at once. And now, they seemed to fall on her, just for a moment.
She didn't know who he was. She didn't know that his presence meant more than just another agent passing through. But Kylen's gaze lingered, and for a heartbeat, Kaïra felt something shift. He was looking directly at her, and she wasn't sure why.
Then, just as quickly as he had appeared, he turned and disappeared into the crowd with his fellow agents, his footsteps fading away.
Kaïra sat there, still breathing hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't know what had just happened. Was it a warning? A coincidence? She didn't know. But she had the bread, and that was all that mattered.
After a few more moments of silence, she stood up, brushing herself off. She needed to get back home, to Renzo. She could hear him coughing faintly in her mind, and the thought of him alone, sick in their small, crumbling apartment, spurred her into action.
She turned, making her way through the quieter streets toward home. As she walked, her thoughts drifted to the strange encounter, to the agents, and to the world beyond the dome. She had always wondered what was out there, beyond the walls. What was so dangerous that they had to stay locked inside? What would it take to break free?
She shook her head, pushing the thoughts away. For now, she had more important things to worry about like getting food for her brother.
As she reached her apartment, she unlocked the door and stepped inside. Renzo was lying on the small cot in the corner, his face pale and flushed with fever. Kaïra's heart clenched at the sight, but she pushed it down. She didn't have time for emotions. Not now.
She walked over to him and gently placed the bread in front of him.
"Renzo," she said softly, "I brought you something."
His eyes fluttered open, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You… you got it?"
She nodded, her fingers brushing his forehead. "I'll make you some tea with it. Just rest."
As she turned to prepare the small meal, Kaïra couldn't shake the image of the agent's cold gaze. It haunted her, but she couldn't dwell on it. Not now. There were more pressing matters at hand. And whatever had just happened, whatever that brief encounter had meant, it wasn't the end.
It was just the beginning.