Chapter 29: NEW YORK CITY
It's been a hell of a ride. I went from a washed-up drug addict to chasing a degree, and now? Now I can level entire communities with a single bolt of lightning—or is it electricity?
My girl? If I had to sum her up in one word—an angel. But not the kind from folklore. She's the type to drag you into your darkest nightmares and make you relive them in real time. An Angel of Death. Damn—that thought alone sent chills through me.
My boy Steven? A walking atomic warhead. Michelle? You wouldn't want to get on her bad side on a rainy day—you'd be in for a storm. Literally.
And Malik—my old friend, my brother. He now commands legions of Centurions. Not just men. Not just soldiers. Warriors.
With a heavy heart, I climbed the podium. My eyes swept over every soldier, every man, woman—even the children. All of them scarred by a war our own quest to adapt had unleashed upon the world. But we couldn't tell them that. Not yet.
Malik finally knew. And the way he looked at me when he found out? That was a sight I wouldn't wish on anyone.
So, with guilt clawing at my chest and regret weighing down my every step, I stood to address the crowd.
"We were students. Some of us were law enforcers. Some were rogues, businessmen, ordinary citizens. But now? Now, we stand at the peak of human evolution. And this war? It's only just begun. We will fight until the very end."
I paused, gripping the podium tighter as my gaze drifted beyond the sea of faces. And that's when I saw her.
Moving through the crowd, her near-white blonde hair shimmered under the dim light, its shade unlike anything I'd ever seen—something uniquely hers.
It hadn't always been that way.
Before the incident, Eliana's hair had been jet black, dark as night. But as her powers grew, so did its color—shifting from black to deep gold, then brightening, until now, it was nearly white. A transformation that mirrored what we'd all been through.
Even in a crowd, she stood out, her presence demanding attention without a single word. She carried herself with quiet purpose, each step measured as she weaved through the gathered soldiers.
Steven smirked beside me, barely holding in a laugh. He saw it—the way my eyes lingered on her.
I ignored him, forcing myself back to the present.
I cleared my throat, straightened my shoulders, and continued.
"It's been a whole year since the incident—the one that turned us into what we are today. We've seen brothers turn on each other, killing in the name of so-called law enforcement.
But each battle we've fought since then has only made us stronger. And we won't back down. Not until every one of our imprisoned brothers and sisters sees the light of day again.
Today, we ride for the United States. We're going to free as many of them as we can. So rest assured—you will see your loved ones again.
Some of us will head for New York. The rest will remain here, strengthening the resistance."
By then, Eliana had reached the podium, stepping up alongside the others who would lead this fight. I let my gaze linger on her for a moment before taking the list Malik handed me.
With a nod, I read the names aloud.
"The following are the ones coming with us. Those not called will remain here to hold the line."
I took a breath.
"Steven Ramos Rodriguez,
Michelle Kosisochukwu Mbachu,
Bob Clinton,
Eric Sanderson,
Megan .C. Snow,
Eliana Ximena Halladay,
Jamal Oluwatobi Williams.
I lowered the list and looked out at the crowd.
"All chosen will now call in their teams and subordinates."
I stepped back, watching as the others moved forward to assemble their squads.
We had a mission to complete. And this was just the beginning.
The flight was quiet—too quiet. Even Steven, who always had something to say, just stared out the window, lost in thought. I was too.
Lily had fallen asleep beside me, curled up against my side like a kid seeking warmth. Her breathing was steady, her small frame rising and falling with each breath. I didn't move, letting her rest. She'd been through too much. We all had.
Across from me, Eliana sat with a travel brochure in hand, flipping through its sleek, holographic pages. The soft glow from the screen illuminated her face, casting a delicate shimmer over her pale skin.
Even with war looming over us, she was beautiful. Not in the way people typically described beauty—not just in looks. There was something about her, something untouchable, unshakable. The way she carried herself, the way she took everything in stride.
She must've felt me looking because she glanced up, arching a brow. "You ever been to New York before?"
I shook my head. "Nah. You?"
She smirked, tapping the brochure. "Nope. But from what I'm seeing here, we should check out Central Park. Apparently, they rebuilt it after the last bombing. Now it's some kind of floating botanical garden."
I huffed a small laugh. "A floating garden? In this economy?"
"Hey, Americans have their priorities." She turned the page, pointing to another section. "Also, they got drone taxis now. AI-driven, completely automated. No drivers, no traffic, just air travel. Sounds efficient."
"Or a perfect way to get hijacked mid-air."
She chuckled. "Always so paranoid."
I smirked. "And you're always too curious."
She didn't argue. Just smiled a little, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Damn. She really was beautiful.
We had left behind everything—the resistance, Malik, the people who looked to us for hope. And now, here we were, thousands of feet above the ocean, heading into a city that might not even want us.
New York glowed beneath us, a neon jungle stretching for miles. They called it the city that never sleeps, and damn, they weren't lying. From up here, it looked alive—holographic billboards flashing over skyscrapers, streets buzzing with autonomous cars, people moving like shadows between towering structures.
The cybernetic systems were next level. Even from the sky, I could see drones weaving through traffic, AR projections lighting up the streets, AI-controlled police units scanning the sidewalks for threats.
Britain was advanced, sure. But America? They took it to another level.
I let out a quiet sigh, closing my eyes for a moment.
New York was waiting for us. And for now, at least, we had a moment of peace.
As we landed, teams dispersed, each group checking into separate hotels to avoid drawing attention. Mutants weren't welcomed here—not openly, at least. The last thing we needed was a scene.
I approached the front desk, keeping my tone casual. "A room for three, please."
The receptionist barely looked up, her fingers tapping across a holographic screen. "Grand suite for three," she said, handing over an access card and a sleek tablet. "Your suite controls are here. Just swipe your card for access—same for locking and unlocking doors. Enjoy your stay."
I thanked her and took the key, casting a glance at Eliana and Lily by the window. They were taking in the city, their faces illuminated by the neon lights outside.
For the first time in a long while, I saw them laugh.
For a moment, I wanted nothing else.
We settled in. The suite was modern, sleek, almost too perfect.
But something about this place didn't sit right with me.
It was pure bliss.
At least, for now.
As I stepped toward the window, the neon lights of New York cast a glow over my face. The city was alive, pulsing, thriving. But beneath that, something else lurked. Maybe it was the way the security drones hovered just a little too long outside our window. Maybe it was the strange hush in the hallways, the kind that only came before a storm.
Or maybe it was just paranoia.
I really hoped it was.