From the distance, the wailing sirens of law enforcement drew closer, their urgency slicing through the night air.
Messimah, unfazed, reached for the bag slung over his shoulder. With ease, he slid the Aqua Filtration Kit inside, securing it with a swift pull of the zipper.
Facing the crowd once more, his voice carried the weight of conviction.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is just a prototype—but I'm sure you can all envision the transformative impact it could have on our city if given the chance to thrive. Clean water for everyone, free from the chains of scarcity, contamination, and the heavy price tags of the capitalists."
He paused, letting his words settle before continuing.
"But let's not be naive. We all know there are forces out there—powerful people and organizations—who would see this invention not as a solution for all, but as an opportunity to control and profit. They will try to stifle it, monopolize it, and use it for their own gain. As you can all see, I am but a boy, I have no real power nor finances to achieve this…"
A ripple of understanding spread through the crowd. Faces hardened, eyes gleamed with realization, and murmurs of agreement grew louder.
Messimah could see it in their expressions—they knew exactly what he meant.
"But with your support—with everyone's help—we can make this festival unforgettable. Not just as a celebration of our predecessors' labor, but as the day we chose to take control of our future and change our situation."
The crowd erupted into cheers, the sound swelling with renewed hope as the thought took root in their minds.
From the middle of the gathering, a well-dressed, middle-aged man raised his voice above the noise. "You've inspired us, but you haven't shared much about your plans. How do you intend to sell and distribute your invention?"
Messimah paused, then responded with measured resolve. "While I'd love to lay out every detail, time isn't on my side. What I can say is this—the government will never integrate my invention into the city's central water system unless I strike a deal that satisfies their greed. And frankly, I don't see that happening anytime soon, as I despise dealing with those who prioritize wealth over well-being."
He gestured toward the crowd, his voice steady and firm.
"That said, with enough resources and materials, my team and I can begin mass production. The price will be fair—this isn't just a product meant to profit from the people, but a tool to uplift them."
The so-called "team" he mentioned.
It was nothing more than a thinly veiled reference to Gola and Trumm.
Gola had no real interest in such ventures, preferring to stick to his expertise, and as for Trumm, the idea was laughable—he wasn't remotely suited for the work required. Beyond that, they didn't even have the resources to launch a small-scale project for the Aqua Filtration Kit, let alone a full production line.
Until Messimah could ensure the device was protected from prying eyes and grasping hands, the manufacturing process would remain his closely guarded secret. Even if such security were guaranteed, he had no intention of releasing the blueprints to the public.
His words served another purpose entirely: planting an idea in the minds of the masses, carefully cultivated to yield the outcomes he desired.
The first outcome? Sparking enough interest and anticipation that the public would be ready to purchase the device—or even provide funding—when the time came.
The second, more subtle goal was to sow the seeds of rebellion. If the government refused to cooperate or tried to stifle his efforts, the discontent brewing in the hearts of the people could take root and flourish.
Though Messimah had no desire to incite a rebellion himself, he wasn't above nudging those with the capacity to lead such movements onto the right path.
"Simah, manned drones heading your way—four of them," Gola's voice crackled through Messimah's earpiece.
Four drones. That's a generous show of force from the cops. But wait... why is there a fifth one?
Messimah's eyes narrowed as he scanned the sky, tracking the airborne machines converging from different directions. The manned drones cut through the air quickly, their dark metallic bodies reflecting the faint glow of the city lights.
Each had dual rotors for smooth maneuvering, a compact cockpit for the pilot, and powerful spotlights that sliced through the darkness. Outfitted with discreet yet formidable weapons, they usually fill the people with fear.
"The fifth one is your way out of there," Gola clarified.
Messimah's lips curled into a grin.
The fifth drone looked identical to the police units, complete with their logo plastered on its frame.
"Reading my mind, as always," Messimah whispered, his voice tinged with amusement.
Rising to his feet, he stepped back onto the podium, addressing the crowd one final time.
"While this has been a moment I'll always treasure, my time here has come to an end. I sincerely hope to see all of you again."
With that, Messimah crouched low, his sharp eyes locked onto the approaching drones as he prepared for his next move.
Messimah discreetly activated the Skeletal Bionic Suit concealed beneath his trousers and braced himself for the arrival of the fifth drone sent for him.
The drone approached at an alarming speed, causing panic to ripple through the crowd as they feared it might crash into them. But just as it neared the podium, it halted abruptly, hovering mere feet from Messimah. The powerful engines blasted gusts of wind across the park, scattering loose debris and making people shield their faces.
"Don't get in—just grab onto the wing," Gola's voice buzzed faintly in Messimah's earpiece.
Without hesitation, trusting Gola's judgment, Messimah launched himself off the ground, effortlessly crossing the 13-foot gap to grip the drone's wing. The moment he latched on, the drone surged upward with controlled acceleration, darting out of the park and heading toward the slums of Jejity.
The crowd stood frozen, staring in disbelief at the audacity of the man clinging to the wing of a drone instead of boarding it properly. Murmurs of astonishment rippled through them, some marveling at his boldness, others shaking their heads in confusion.
...
"Where to now?" Trumm asked.
"Hope you boys have everything packed? We're heading to the other hideout," Messimah called out, his voice strained as he clung tightly to the wing, every muscle in his body engaged against the rushing wind.
"I have to cut your journey short, Simah. They're about to break free from my malware, and the first thing they'll use are those weapons," Gola informed, his voice tight with urgency.
By weapons, Gola meant the entire arsenal of the police force—firearms enhanced with computer systems. More specifically, he was referring to the weaponry mounted on the manned drones.
Originally, Gola's plan was to get Messimah as far from Jeji Park as possible with the drone. However, the speed at which the authorities countered his malware forced him to adapt on the fly.
"I don't think we have even a minute left!" Gola warned, sounding a bit frantic.
Messimah glanced below.
The drone was only meters away from the podium where it had picked him up, but it wasn't far from the exit—the alley he had emerged from earlier. The distance, however, still felt too great to cross with the tight time he was left with.
Although unexpected and uncanny, still not much of a difference.
Messimah thought, referring to the fact that the police force was able to counter Gola's malware faster than they anticipated.
"Take me to the ground, Gola. They won't fire with so many people around," Messimah commanded firmly.
Without hesitation, the drone began its descent. Before it could lower enough for a safe landing, Messimah released his grip, dropping into a free fall that lasted an intense four seconds.
The crowd beneath scattered, clearing a space just in time.
Thud!
He landed hard, the impact amplified by the Skeletal Bionic Suit encasing his lower body.
The sound echoed, sharp and metallic, as the suit absorbed the brunt of the fall.
Messimah's knees bent deeply, the force compressing him low to the ground before the suit's enhanced mechanics propelled him upward like a coiled spring.
In one swift motion, he leaped high into the air, clearing the heads of several people in the panicked crowd as gasps and shouts followed in his wake.
The drone didn't linger after dropping Messimah. It shot off in another direction at full speed, diverting attention and complicating the pursuit.
With all eyes now locked on Messimah, the crowd instinctively tracked his movements. His next landing spot cleared quickly—no one wanted to be the unfortunate soul to serve as an impromptu landing pad.
As soon as his feet touched the ground, Messimah didn't waste a moment. Instead of leaping again, he surged forward, shoving people aside as he carved a path through the crowd.
"Messimah, suit up—they've purged my malware from their systems. Shots might start flying any second," Gola informed, the tension in voice unmistakable.
It sounded as though he was on the move as well.
"Trumm?"
"I've got your six, Simah. Keep running—I'll clear the path ahead," Trumm replied, his voice calm yet focused. His sniper rifle was already trained, scope pressed firmly against his eye, scanning the area around Messimah with lethal precision.
The alley he had emerged from wasn't far now—barely six meters away.
"You! Stop right there!"
A voice cut through the chaos, and Messimah's eyes darted to the source. A hand reached out from the corner, metallic and unmistakably armored. It was a police officer clad in an officer-grade skeletal Bionic suit—far more advanced and versatile than anything available to the public.
Messimah was moving too fast to alter his course or dodge effectively. His options were limited: leap into the air or dive into the crowd.
"I've got you now—"
Before the officer could finish his sentence, he crumpled to the ground, silenced mid-pursuit.
"Keep moving, Simah," Trumm's voice came through the earpiece, calm and steady.
Messimah smirked. Damn, Trumm, you really are a shooter.
With no time to waste, he slipped into the shadowy alley and broke into a sprint, disappearing into the darkness…