VOL. 1: CHAPTER 24: THE TRAP THAT LOOKS LIKE A STAGE
The next day, Vireya didn't punish them for stopping the truck.
She rewarded them.
That's how Sionu knew she wasn't just a gang queen.
She was an artist of control.
Morning feeds lit up with new clips.
Not propaganda from Division.
Street footage.
Edited clean.
Stylized.
Blitz's mist rolling like a cinematic fog bank.
Eli's resonance cracking speakers like glass.
Ultimo's gravity turning an avenue into a sinkhole without killing anyone.
Sionu standing like a calm nucleus while chaos bent around him.
The caption on every repost was the same:
MERIDIAN HAS A NEW BAND.
Some people laughed.
Some people cheered.
Some people looked uneasy because cheering started to feel like choosing.
Eli stared at one clip and said the thing nobody wanted to admit.
"She's making you famous," she murmured.
Ultimo frowned. "Why would she do that?"
Eli didn't look away. "Because fame turns into expectation. Expectation turns into schedules. And schedules…"
Blitz finished it, quiet. "Schedules get ambushed."
Drego's intel came in fast.
"Pop-up concert tonight," he said. "Old amphitheater in the Arclight District. Vireya's people advertising it like relief. Food, water, 'safe zone.'"
Sionu stared at the map. "Arclight is contested."
Drego nodded. "That's why it's bait."
Blitz's mist stirred. "And people will go anyway."
Eli's jaw clenched. "Because music feels like hope."
Ultimo swallowed. "So we stop it?"
Sionu shook his head slowly.
"No," he said. "We protect the people there."
Blitz looked at him sharply. "You sure?"
Sionu's eyes were steady. "If we shut it down, she wins the narrative. If we show up and keep it from becoming a slaughter…"
Drego exhaled. "You reclaim legitimacy."
Eli's gaze flicked to Sionu. "And you step onto her stage."
Sionu nodded once.
"Yes.
1) ARCLIGHT DISTRICT
Arclight used to be nightlife.
Now it was ruins with neon scars.
Broken signage buzzed in the dusk, blinking half-words. Glass crunched underfoot. The amphitheater sat like a bowl carved into the city, concrete seats rising in tiers around a stage that had once hosted real shows. Now it hosted survival theater.
By the time they arrived, the crowd was already there.
Hundreds.
Families. Teenagers. Old heads. People carrying empty jugs and soft hope. Vendors moved through the aisles quietly, handing out food boxes marked with a crown symbol.
Blitz's jaw tightened. "She feeding them."
Eli's voice was low. "She's buying their ears."
Division drones hovered high overhead, watching but not intervening.
Hale's fingerprints were faint, but present.
Sionu could feel the city's SOL here: a tight, expectant coil. It wasn't fear. It wasn't joy.
It was suspense.
Drego's voice came through. "Perimeter's thick. Multiple exits. Too many blind spots."
Ultimo swallowed. "This feels wrong."
Eli nodded. "Because it is."
Blitz leaned close to Sionu. "If it goes bad, we split. I cover the crowd with mist. Ultimo holds the exits. Eli targets tech. You…"
Sionu didn't answer immediately.
Then: "I take the queen."
Eli looked at him. "You don't even know where she is."
Sionu's electricity stirred.
"I'll know," he said.
2) THE MUSIC STARTS
The first note wasn't loud.
It was clean.
A chord that slid into the air like velvet, carried by speakers hidden around the amphitheater. The crowd quieted, not because they were ordered to, but because the sound reached something inside them that hadn't been touched gently in months.
People closed their eyes.
Some cried without knowing why.
Sionu felt his chest tighten.
Not from manipulation.
From memory.
The city remembered what it used to feel like to be held by something that didn't demand a price.
Then the bass hit.
Not the sick interference from yesterday.
This was different.
This was command.
A low pulse that matched heartbeats, syncing bodies into shared tempo.
The crowd moved slightly, subconsciously.
Blitz whispered, "She's syncing them."
Eli's eyes sharpened. "Yeah."
Sionu felt it too, the pull, the way the sound tried to organize SOL flow into a single channel.
A channel Vireya controlled.
3) THE REVEAL ISN'T HER
A man walked onto the stage.
Not Vireya.
He wore a crown symbol on his jacket and held a mic like a priest holds scripture.
"Kaloi!" he shouted.
The crowd cheered.
Sionu's stomach sank.
This wasn't a hostage situation.
This was a congregation.
The man spoke fast, charismatic, voice riding the bass like a surfer on a wave.
"They told you the city was dying!" he cried. "They told you to wait for help that never came!"
Cheers rose.
"They told you to fear the infected!" he continued. "But what about the men in black who locked you in here and called it safety?"
The crowd roared.
Sionu felt the city's SOL flare.
Anger was being tuned into unity.
And unity could become anything.
The man raised his hands.
"But tonight, Arclight breathes!" he shouted. "Tonight, the crown feeds you! Tonight, we remind the world we don't beg!"
The crowd surged.
Sionu moved forward.
Eli grabbed his sleeve. "Not yet."
Sionu froze. "Why?"
Eli's eyes flicked upward.
Drones.
More than before.
And on the highest tier, a cluster of armed silhouettes, not Division, not civilians.
Vireya's guards.
Then the man on stage said it.
"And tonight," he grinned, "we welcome the lightning man."
Spotlights snapped on.
Not on the stage.
On Sionu.
The crowd turned.
A murmur rippled.
Phones lifted.
The stage had chosen him.
Blitz swore softly. "This is a trap."
Sionu raised his hands, palms open, trying to calm.
But the bass shifted.
A sharper rhythm threaded through.
The crowd's murmurs turned jagged.
Half excited. Half resentful.
Expectation curdling into demand.
A voice shouted, "You gonna save us or what?"
Another yelled, "Why you late yesterday?"
Another: "You with the crown now?"
Sionu felt the fracture in real time.
The city's SOL split again.
And above, the drones watched.
Waiting for his mistake.
to be continued...