The outskirts of Yorktun—once a haven of art and intellectual freedom, is now a decaying borderland caught between the suffocating grip of the Upbringers and the faint, flickering memory of a better time. The outskirts are quieter than the city center but no less monitored; surveillance drones hover silently, and Wardens patrol the streets with the cold detachment of machines.
Clouds blacken the night sky over Yorktun, the stars long swallowed by the Upbringers' ever-present artificial fog. Looming above the decaying outskirts is a broadcast tower, its skeletal structure symbolizing oppression. From its peak, the voice of the Unitary Code echoes relentlessly, a droning litany of obedience and conformity.
Voice of the Unitary Code (Broadcast):
"Peace through unity. Obedience is strength. Chaos is the enemy. We are the light."
Retsuki-Raigku stands in the shadows of a crumbling building, his body shimmering faintly with electricity. He watches the tower intently, his fists sparking as his energy builds. His presence feels alien against the decay—a living storm in a city of silence—his memories of Paragus's grief and Yorktun's lost beauty churn within him, feeding his anger.
Retsuki: (Murmuring to himself) They speak of light, but all they bring is darkness. Tonight, that changes.
He steps forward, each footfall leaving a faint scorch mark on the ground. As he approaches the tower, a drone whirs into view, its red eye scanning the area. Without hesitation, Retsuki raises his hand, and a bolt of lightning crackles through the air, destroying the drone in sparks. He doesn't stop to admire his work. His target is ahead.
Retsuki reaches the tower base, where a squad of Wardens patrols with mechanical precision. Their helmets glow faintly, their visors scanning for signs of unauthorized movement. They are faceless extensions of the regime, their humanity stripped away by the Upbringers' indoctrination.
Warden Leader (to squad): Sector transparent. Resuming—
A sudden crack of thunder silences him. The air around the Wardens shimmers as Retsuki's form materializes, lightning coursing through his veins. He raises a hand, and a wave of electrical energy pulses outward, sending the Wardens sprawling. Their suits sizzle, smoke rising as their systems short-circuit.
Retsuki: (Coldly) No more silence.
He moves swiftly, scaling the tower with inhuman agility. His hands leave trails of electricity as he climbs, each touch causing the tower's structure to groan under the power surge. He finds the broadcast node at the peak—a sleek, sterile device pulsating with the Upbringers' propaganda.
For a moment, he hesitates, his reflection in the node's polished surface catching his eye. He sees the face of Paragus's son staring back at him—a face that is his but not his own.
Retsuki: (Softly) You made me for this.
With a roar, he drives his hand into the node, sending a surge of raw energy through the tower. Sparks erupt as the broadcast dies, replaced by a deafening silence. Across Yorktun, screens flicker and go dark. The voice of the Unitary Code is silenced for the first time in decades.
As Retsuki descends the tower, the faint footsteps catch his attention. He turns sharply, electricity sparking in his hands. Emerging from the shadows is a woman in a tattered Warden uniform, her helmet discarded. Her face is pale, her eyes hollow but resolute. She raises her hands, palms outward, a gesture of surrender.
Alitha: Wait. Please don't kill me.
Retsuki: (Narrowing his eyes) You're a Warden. Could you give me one reason I shouldn't?
Alitha: (Firmly) Because I'm not one of them anymore.
Retsuki's electricity dims slightly, though his posture remains tense. Alitha steps closer, her voice low but steady.
Alitha: I saw what they did. To the children. To the dissenters. To anyone who dared to dream of something better. I couldn't stomach it anymore. I left... if you can even call it that.
Retsuki: (Coldly) You abandoned your post after you helped destroy this city. Why should I trust you?
Alitha: (Angrily) You think I don't know what I've done? Every face I see—every nightmare—it's a reminder. But I didn't come here to justify myself to you. I came because I heard what you did to the tower. I came because maybe, just maybe, you're what this city's been waiting for.
For a long moment, neither of them speaks. The distant wail of sirens echoes through the night as the Upbringers mobilize in response to the broadcast's silence. Finally, Retsuki lowers his hands, the electricity fading.
Retsuki: If you're lying, I'll kill you myself.
Alitha: Fair enough.
They take refuge in a dilapidated building, where Alitha begins to share what she knows. The room is small and cold, the walls covered in graffiti—defiant messages scrawled by citizens long since silenced.
Alitha: The Wardens are more than enforcers. They're watchers. Indoctrinators. Every patrol, every raid, every execution—it's not just about control. It's about breaking people. Making them forget what it feels like to hope.
Retsuki listens intently, his expression hardening. Alitha notices how his body hums with restrained power, and for the first time, she looks afraid.
Alitha: (Hesitant) What are you?
Retsuki: A memory. A weapon. A warning.
Alitha frowns, confused but unwilling to press further. She gestures toward the window, where the faint glow of the city center is visible.
Alitha: If you're serious about... fighting them... you need to understand what you're up against. The people aren't just afraid of the Wardens. They're so scared of each other. The propaganda makes sure of that. Neighbors report neighbors. Families turn on each other. No one trusts anyone anymore.
Retsuki: (Quietly) Then I'll give them something to trust.
Alitha: (Skeptical) You can't save them all.
Retsuki: I don't need to. I need to remind them they're worth saving.
As dawn breaks over Yorktun, the effects of Retsuki's actions begin to ripple through the outskirts. Small groups of citizens gather in hushed whispers, their eyes darting nervously as they share rumors of the tower's destruction. There is a glimmer of defiance in their expressions for the first time in years.
Retsuki watches from the shadows; his body dimmed to avoid detection. Alitha stands beside him, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
Alitha: They're talking about you already. The storm that silenced the Code.
Retsuki: Good.
Alitha: But it won't last. The Wardens will come down hard. They'll make an example out of anyone who steps out of line.
Retsuki: (Turning to her) I'll illustrate them.
Alitha studies him, a flicker of something—hope?—crossing her face. She shakes her head, muttering under her breath.
Alitha: You will either save this city... or burn it.
Retsuki: (Coldly) Maybe both.
Later
The deeper outskirts of Yorktun, where despair festers in every crumbling structure, and the air is heavy with the stench of decay. The streets are alive with shadows—shadows of people, shadows of surveillance, shadows of fear. Retsuki and Alitha tread a narrow path between chaos and silence, their uneasy alliance tested at every step.
The streets are eerily quiet. Word of the broadcast tower's destruction spreads like a sickness, infecting the citizens with something dangerous: a flicker of hope. The Upbringers respond with swift brutality. Wardens swarm the outskirts, dragging suspected dissidents from their homes. The screams of the accused echo down the alleyways, and the sound of boots stomping on flesh becomes a grotesque rhythm in the background.
Retsuki and Alitha move through the shadows; their path lit faintly by the faint arcs of electricity radiating from Retsuki's body. Alitha clutches a stolen Warden's rifle, her hands shaking as she struggles to suppress the memories clawing at her mind.
Alitha: (Whispering) We should wait. There are too many of them.
Retsuki: (Ignoring her) These people need to see more than destruction. They need to see justice.
Alitha: Justice? Do you think the Wardens care about justice? All they'll see is another body.
Retsuki: (Stopping, turning to her) Then we make them see something else.
Retsuki's voice is quiet but charged, each word carrying a barely contained storm. Alitha doesn't reply, but her silence speaks volumes. Not yet, she doesn't trust him, but something in his voice compels her to follow.
They arrive at a small square where a crowd has been forced to gather. In the center, a makeshift stage has been erected, and atop it stands a high-ranking Warden. His armor gleams under the harsh artificial lights, and his voice booms with manufactured authority.
Warden Captain: Citizens of Yorktun! You are gathered here as witnesses to the price of defiance. The traitors who dared to disrupt the Unitary Code will pay with their lives, as will any who harbor them.
The crowd murmurs, their eyes darting between the stage and the Wardens who encircle them with raised weapons. On the stage, three civilians—two adults and a child—kneel, their faces bruised and bloody. The Warden Captain gestures to the child, a boy no older than ten, his small frame trembling with fear.
Warden Captain: This boy's father was caught spreading lies. He thought himself brave. But bravery is nothing without loyalty.
The Warden raises his weapon, aiming it at the boy's head. The crowd gasps, but no one moves. Fear chains them to the ground.
Electricity crackles through the air. The lights flicker, then burst, plunging the square into darkness. A moment later, lightning strikes the stage, illuminating the scene in stark flashes. When the light fades, Retsuki stands in the center of the square, his body glowing with raw energy.
Retsuki: Enough.
The square erupts into chaos. The Wardens open fire, their weapons spitting arcs of red light, but Retsuki moves like a storm-given form. Bolts of lightning lash out from his hands, disarming the Wardens and frying their armor. The crowd scatters, some fleeing, others frozen in awe.
Alitha takes cover, her rifle pressed against her shoulder as she picks off Wardens with precise shots. She watches Retsuki with a mix of fear and fascination, his power both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
Alitha (to herself): What the hell are you?
The Warden Captain stands his ground on the stage, leveling a massive energy cannon at Retsuki. He fires, and the blast tears through the air with a deafening roar. Retsuki raises his arms, catching the energy in his hands and redirecting it to the Captain. The explosion engulfs the stage, leaving nothing but charred wreckage.
As the dust settles, Retsuki approaches the kneeling civilians. The boy looks up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes.
Boy (whispering): Are you... a monster?
Retsuki kneels, his glowing face inches from the boy's. For a moment, he doesn't speak. Then, softly:
Retsuki: No. But they are.
He helps the boy to his feet, his touch leaving a faint warmth instead of the expected burn. The boy's parents scramble to his side, clutching him tightly as they weep. Retsuki turns to the crowd, his voice rising above the chaos.
Retsuki: This is what they fear—a world where we stand together. Their power isn't real. It's a lie, and tonight, we've torn it apart.
The survivors scatter, carrying the story of what they've witnessed. But not everyone is inspired. In the aftermath, Retsuki and Alitha take refuge in a hidden basement, the walls lined with faded posters of banned art and poetry.
Alitha: You're going to get us all killed.
Retsuki: They're already dying.
Alitha: And you think you can stop it? With your speeches and your lightning? Do you think that's going to be enough?
Retsuki doesn't answer. He stares at his hands, the faint glow of his energy casting eerie shadows on the walls. For the first time, doubt creeps into his expression.
Retsuki: I don't know. But I can't do anything.
Alitha: Then you're a fool.
The tension between them is thick, but before either can say more, a faint sound reaches their ears—a mechanical hum growing louder. Alitha stiffens.
Alitha: Drones. They've found us.
The basement door bursts open, and a swarm of drones floods the space, their red eyes glowing like embers in the dark. Retsuki reacts instinctively, unleashing a wave of electricity that fries half of them, but more pour in, their weapons firing in unison.
Alitha: Move!
They flee into the night, the drones pursuing them relentlessly. The streets become a maze of death, each corner hiding another threat. Alitha uses her knowledge of the city to guide them, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she struggles to keep up with Retsuki's inhuman pace.
Finally, they reach an abandoned train tunnel, the entrance hidden behind a rubble wall. Alitha collapses against the wall, her hands trembling as she reloads her rifle.
Alitha: This is wild. They'll never stop.
Retsuki: (Looking back at the faint glow of the drones in the distance) Then neither will I.
Deep in the tunnel, they find a small group of citizens huddled together—families, elders, a handful of children. Their faces are gaunt, and their eyes hollow, but their expressions change as Retsuki enters the light. Whispers ripple through the group.
Citizen 1: It's him—the storm.
Citizen 2: He's real...
Retsuki looks at them, his gaze lingering on the children. He feels the weight of their hope, fragile but palpable, pressing down on him like a stormcloud.
Retsuki: (Quietly) You don't have to be afraid anymore.
For the first time, the group begins to stir, their fear giving way to something unfamiliar: belief. As the first rays of dawn break through the cracks in the tunnel ceiling, Retsuki realizes the truth of his existence. He is not just a weapon, not just a memory. He is the spark that will set the city aflame.