VOL. 1: CHAPTER 11: THE NARRATIVE WEAPON
They didn't let you save people in Kaloi's City without billing you for it.
Sometimes the bill came as bruises.
Sometimes it came as hunger.
Sometimes it came as a name you didn't ask for, stamped on your forehead by strangers who wanted a story more than they wanted the truth.
Today, the bill came as narrative.
Sionu, Blitz, and Ultimo moved through back streets after Indige Village, cutting corners the way you do when you know the city can turn on you in a heartbeat. Their pace wasn't frantic, but it was tight. Controlled. The kind of fast that saves breath for the moment you actually need to sprint.
Sionu's arms still trembled faintly from what he'd done, not the lightning itself, but the choice of how he used it. He could still feel the infected man's despair brushing against his SOL like wet fingerprints.
He didn't like that.
Not because the man was disgusting. Because the man was real.
When you touch someone's inner ruin, you don't walk away clean.
Blitz stayed close, eyes scanning rooftops and side alleys. Mist curled faintly around her ankles as if the air itself recognized her mood and adjusted accordingly. Ultimo walked behind them, shoulders set, breathing slow and deliberate. Every step he took was an act of persuasion with the ground.
They reached a narrow corridor between two buildings and paused.
Auntie had told them before they left Latvier: if you go out, you come back different. You come back with eyes that can't unsee.
Sionu felt that now.
Because the city was watching them.
And it wasn't just human eyes.
A drone hovered at the far end of the block, small and silent, like a mechanical insect with a government paycheck. It didn't spotlight them. It didn't approach.
It simply tracked.
Ultimo muttered, "That thing following us like a stray dog."
Blitz whispered, "Don't give it a reason to bite."
Sionu exhaled slowly and pushed forward.
1) THE FIRST LIE ARRIVES FAST
They didn't hear the news. They saw it.
A digital billboard two streets over flickered, then switched from quarantine warnings to a bright, clean headline with a government seal in the corner.
EMERGENCY UPDATE: DOMESTIC ANOMALY EVENT
UNAUTHORIZED INDIVIDUALS INTERFERED WITH FEDERAL OPERATIONS
CIVILIAN SAFETY COMPROMISED BY VIGILANTE ACTIVITY
Blitz stopped walking.
Her face went still, the way it does right before anger climbs the stairs.
Ultimo leaned closer, squinting. "Vigilante activity?"
Sionu's throat tightened. "They talking about us."
The billboard rotated to a grainy clip.
Sionu recognized the moment instantly: him in the street, hands raised, electricity faint and contained, the infected kneeling.
But the clip was edited.
The audio was altered.
A voice-over narrated it like a horror story.
"…subject displays dangerous electrical output…"
"…infected individuals drawn to anomalous signal…"
"…civilian panic exacerbated…"
Blitz's fingers tightened around her bat. "They really gon' pin the infected on you."
Ultimo's jaw clenched. "That's dirty."
Sionu stared at the screen, a cold understanding spreading through him.
This was Phase Two.
Kael had warned him without saying it outright: the state didn't just neutralize bodies. It neutralized meaning.
If they couldn't kill him quickly, they'd make sure the city killed him slowly.
With distrust.
With fear.
With rumor sharpened into policy.
A man across the street shouted at the billboard, "Man, shut up! That dude was helping!"
His friend grabbed his sleeve. "Bro, you trying to get yourself on a list?"
The first man fell quiet immediately.
Sionu's stomach dropped.
Not because the billboard existed.
Because it worked.
Blitz leaned in toward Sionu, voice low and fierce. "Look at me."
Sionu turned his head.
Blitz stared directly into his eyes. "You hear me? They can't rewrite what we saw."
Sionu nodded slowly. "They can rewrite what people believe."
Ultimo muttered, "And belief get people killed."
Blitz nodded once. "Then we gotta be loud enough to break the lie."
Sionu's electricity stirred.
Not in anger.
In readiness.
2) THE CITY'S SECOND FACE
They moved again, avoiding main streets now. Kaloi's City was an organism under quarantine, and like any organism under stress, it developed defense mechanisms.
Some blocks were deserted, doors barred, the air heavy with the smell of bleach and fear.
Other blocks were alive in a different way.
Groups clustered in corners, talking too fast, sharing clips, arguing about what was real.
A teenager on a stoop said, "I told you it was superpowers, bro!"
An older man snapped back, "Ain't no superpowers. That's government weapons. They testing on us."
A woman with a scarf over her mouth whispered, "My cousin said he saw one of them infected eat somebody's face like it was nothing."
Another voice replied, "Stop spreading that."
But the fear didn't stop.
It multiplied.
Sionu could feel the city's emotional SOL like weather. It pressed against him, shifting the electricity under his skin.
When people were angry, he felt heat.
When they were terrified, he felt static.
When they were hopeful, he felt a strange steadiness, like a calm current.
It was overwhelming.
He realized, with sudden dread, that being Starborne might mean he couldn't ever truly be alone again. Not in a crowded city.
Because the city itself was inside him now.
Blitz noticed his expression change. "You feeling too much?"
Sionu swallowed. "Yeah."
Ultimo frowned. "That normal?"
Sionu shook his head. "Nothing normal."
Blitz's jaw tightened. "We gotta get back to Latvier. Kael need to know they pushing propaganda now."
Ultimo nodded. "And we need to eat. I'm about to pass out."
Sionu forced a half-smile. "Gravity boy hungry."
Ultimo rolled his eyes. "Bro, I'm human still."
Blitz muttered, "For now."
The words landed heavier than she meant them to.
Sionu glanced at Ultimo.
Ultimo's face tightened, but he didn't argue.
They kept walking.
3) CONTACT, BUT NOT THE KIND THEY EXPECTED
As they cut through a side street near a boarded-up beauty supply store, a voice called out from the shadows.
"Yo!"
Blitz's posture changed instantly.
Bat hand ready.
Mist stirring.
Ultimo's feet planted, subtle pressure building.
Sionu's electricity rose, not flaring, but attentive.
A young man stepped out from behind a parked car.
Black, early twenties, slim build, hoodie up, hands visible. His eyes darted between them with caution and something else.
Recognition.
He took a step forward, then stopped like he'd hit an invisible line.
"You… you him," he said, nodding toward Sionu.
Sionu's stomach tightened. "Who are you?"
The man swallowed. "Name's Drego."
Sionu blinked.
That name wasn't random. Not in this story. Not in this city.
Sionu had heard it whispered before the quarantine, in corners where people talked about enforcers and protectors, the kind of folks who didn't work for police but still kept blocks from falling apart.
Blitz's eyes narrowed. "Drego who?"
The man lifted his chin slightly. "Drego. That's enough."
Ultimo muttered, "I don't like secrets."
Drego exhaled, hands still up. "I'm not here to set y'all up."
Blitz scoffed. "Everybody says that right before they set you up."
Drego's mouth tightened. "I watched you at Indige. You didn't kill them."
Sionu held his gaze. "I tried not to."
Drego nodded slowly, like that answer mattered.
"They gonna come for you," Drego said. "Not just military. Streets too."
Sionu frowned. "Why?"
Drego's eyes flicked toward the drone in the distance. "Cause they already telling people you the reason the infected acting up. They pushing it hard. And folks scared enough to believe anything that gives them a target."
Blitz's jaw clenched. "So what you want?"
Drego hesitated, like he wasn't used to asking.
"I want to help," he said finally. "But I need to know something first."
Ultimo scoffed. "Oh, you got conditions."
Drego ignored him and looked at Sionu.
"Are you trying to save the city," Drego asked, "or are you trying to save yourself?"
The question cut deeper than it had any right to.
Sionu didn't answer immediately.
Because the truth was messy.
He wanted Blitz safe. Ultimo safe. Latvier safe. He wanted his guilt to stop chewing on him. He wanted to understand what he was.
He wanted everything.
And wanting everything in Kaloi's City was how you ended up with nothing.
Blitz leaned in toward Sionu, voice low. "Answer him."
Sionu looked at Drego.
"I'm trying to stop the city from dying," he said slowly, "without letting it turn me into something ugly."
Drego nodded once.
"That's the right answer," he said. "Not clean. But right."
Ultimo frowned. "So you got a plan?"
Drego glanced down the street. "Not a plan. A route."
He pointed. "There's a checkpoint up ahead. They just set it. If you try to go back to Latvier the way you came, you'll run into it. And they got drones linked to facial recognition now."
Sionu's stomach dropped. "They can ID me?"
D consisting of likely was hush. "Yeah. Your eyes stand out."
Sionu's throat tightened.
Blitz muttered, "So what, we blind the drones?"
Ultimo cracked his neck. "Or crush them."
Drego raised a hand quickly. "If you attack the checkpoint, you prove their headline. Don't give them that."
Sionu nodded slowly. "So where's your route?"
Drego motioned. "Back way through the old market tunnels. Sewer-adjacent. Smell like hell, but the signal weak."
Blitz grimaced. "We going underground."
Ultimo muttered, "Of course we are."
Sionu looked at Drego. "Why are you doing this?"
Drego's expression shifted.
Not sentimental.
Just honest.
"Cause my block's inside that quarantine," he said quietly. "And my moms is too. And if the government got their way, they'll let everybody in here rot as long as the rest of the country don't have to look at it."
Blitz's face softened slightly.
Sionu nodded. "Alright. Lead."
Drego turned and started walking.
They followed.
4) THE UNDERCITY
The market tunnels weren't meant for heroes.
They were meant for storage, for old transit routes, for forgotten infrastructure that the city never fully dismantled because dismantling required care.
Kaloi's City rarely spent care on itself.
They descended through a rusted hatch behind an abandoned storefront. The smell hit immediately: damp concrete, mold, stagnant water, and something metallic that reminded Sionu of the shimmer, like it had seeped into everything.
Blitz covered her mouth with her scarf. "Damn."
Ultimo muttered, "My lungs filing a complaint."
Drego moved confidently, flashlight beam tight.
"Stay close," he said. "And step where I step. Some of these floors weak."
Sionu followed, electricity humming softly beneath his skin, reacting to the underground like it recognized the proximity to something deeper.
Not the Event Horizon exactly.
But the city's buried pain.
They passed graffiti on the walls, old tags layered over newer ones, messages like prayers and threats.
WE STILL HERE
NO JUSTICE NO PEACE
STOP THE CAGES
LATVIER SAVES
Sionu froze at the last one.
Blitz noticed. "They already turning Latvier into folklore."
Ultimo muttered, "Folklore get you killed too."
A sound echoed ahead.
A faint laugh.
Not close.
But present.
Drego stopped instantly, raising a hand.
Everyone froze.
The laugh came again, bouncing off concrete.
A chorus.
Soft.
Wrong.
Blitz whispered, "Infected down here?"
Drego's jaw tightened. "Sometimes."
Sionu's electricity rose, subtle arcs dancing along his fingers in the darkness.
He forced it down, breathing slow.
Respond, don't react.
A wet footstep sounded ahead.
Then another.
A figure stepped into Drego's flashlight beam.
A woman, maybe late twenties, hair matted, eyes glowing faintly. She smiled.
"Look what the drain coughed up," she whispered.
Blitz's mist stirred, invisible but ready.
Ultimo shifted, gravity tightening around him.
Sionu stepped forward slightly. "We don't want trouble."
The infected woman tilted her head, like she was listening to a voice behind her.
Then her smile widened.
"The choir says you lying," she murmured. "The choir says you always want trouble. You just want to feel good about it."
Sionu's stomach dropped.
The choir again.
Drego's voice was low. "We don't have time."
He moved to step around her.
The woman's head snapped toward him, too fast.
She hissed. "You ain't leaving."
Then she lunged.
Ultimo reacted first.
He slammed his palm downward.
Gravity spiked in a tight cone, pinning the woman mid-lunge.
Her body slammed to the ground like it had been yanked by an invisible chain.
She screamed, not in pain, in fury.
Blitz exhaled sharply, mist bursting outward, filling the tunnel with a thick veil.
Sionu raised his hands.
Electricity spread through the air, not striking, but shaping itself into a net, shimmering faintly in the mist.
He could feel his SOL tugged at again, the hunger reaching.
He pushed back, not with violence, but with refusal.
The infected woman's glow flickered.
She spat, "You think you holy."
Sionu's voice was quiet. "No. I think you hungry."
The woman laughed, wet and broken. "Hungry is the only truth left."
Sionu felt something in him harden.
Not anger.
Resolve.
He stepped closer, careful, and let his electricity settle like a grounding field.
The infected woman's breathing slowed slightly.
Her eyes flickered, confusion passing through.
For a second, she looked human again.
Tears welled.
"Help me," she whispered.
Blitz's voice softened, almost inaudible. "Sionu…"
Sionu's chest tightened.
He wanted to promise.
He wanted to fix it.
But promises were dangerous.
"I can't cure you," he said gently. "But I can keep you from hurting someone right now."
The woman trembled, then snarled as the hunger surged again.
The moment of humanity snapped back into frenzy.
"You ain't saving nobody!" she shrieked.
Sionu flinched.
Ultimo's gravity wavered with fatigue.
Blitz's mist thickened, but the tunnels made it hard to control.
Drego's voice sharpened. "We move. Now."
Sionu nodded, forcing himself to step back.
He released the grounding field.
Ultimo maintained the gravity pin just long enough for them to slip past.
The infected woman screamed after them, voice echoing through the tunnels like a curse.
"YOU CAN'T OUTRUN YOUR SOL!"
They ran.
Not fast.
Carefully.
But urgently.
The tunnels swallowed their footsteps.
5) THE AMBUSH THAT ISN'T INFECTED
They emerged through another hatch near the backside of a closed laundromat.
The air outside felt cleaner despite the smoke.
Sionu inhaled and immediately regretted it when a new sound greeted them:
Boots.
Not infected shuffling.
Not civilians running.
Organized.
Approaching.
Drego cursed under his breath. "Too late."
They peeked around the corner.
A small Division unit moved down the street, three soldiers, visor-sealed, rifles held low but ready. A drone floated above them, scanning.
Commander Hale had upgraded from siege to hunt.
Blitz whispered, "They got the alley."
Ultimo muttered, "We could drop a building on them."
Blitz shot him a look. "We not proving the billboard."
Sionu's mind raced.
If they attacked, they fed the narrative.
If they ran, the drone tracked them.
Drego's voice dropped. "They not here by accident."
Sionu nodded. "They following our trail."
Blitz's jaw clenched. "My mist can cover us."
Sionu shook his head slightly. "Mist still shows on thermal."
Drego glanced at Sionu. "But your lightning mess with electronics."
Sionu swallowed. "It drains me."
Drego replied, "So does dying."
Ultimo muttered, "He got you there."
Sionu exhaled slowly.
Then he stepped back, closing his eyes for half a second and doing what Kael taught him.
Ask.
Not demand.
Electricity stirred.
Not explosive.
Precise.
He opened his eyes and raised his hand toward the drone above the soldiers.
He didn't blast it.
He whispered to it with current.
A subtle surge snapped outward, invisible in daylight.
The drone's light flickered.
Its lens stuttered.
Then it spun in a slow, confused circle and dropped, clattering to the street like a dead insect.
The soldiers froze, looking up, startled.
Blitz whispered, "Good."
Sionu didn't stop.
He sent another small pulse, not enough to explode anything, just enough to scramble.
The soldiers' comms crackled.
They shouted into their radios.
No signal.
Drego motioned. "Move while they blind."
They slipped back into the alley, staying low.
But as they moved, Sionu felt something cold slide through his chest.
Not hunger.
Not fear.
Attention.
From above.
He looked up.
On the rooftop across the street, a figure stood watching.
Not a soldier.
Not infected.
A man in dark tactical gear, visor up, face visible.
Commander Hale.
He wasn't close enough for conversation, but close enough to be certain.
Hale lifted his hand in a slow, almost casual wave.
Then he pointed at Sionu.
And mouthed something.
Sionu couldn't hear it, but he read it anyway:
Found you.
Sionu's electricity surged involuntarily, anger flashing hot.
Blitz grabbed his wrist. "Don't."
Sionu clenched his jaw, forcing it down.
Hale didn't chase.
He simply watched.
Then he turned and walked away like he'd already won something.
Drego whispered, "That's bad."
Ultimo muttered, "That's real bad."
Sionu exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of it settle.
The state didn't need to catch him today.
It just needed him to understand the truth:
He could run.
He could fight.
He could save people.
But he could not outrun a government that had decided to turn him into a story.
And stories, once released, fed on everyone.
to be continued...