It began with static.
Not on a screen, not in a machine — but in the air.
The kind of static that prickles at the skin, that hums like tension before a storm.
Jayden felt it before he heard the alarm. The Collective was awake — not in panic, but purpose. People running between the buildings, carrying hard drives, cables, laptops, boxes. Every generator roared. Every voice was sharp.
Layla caught up to him outside the communications room. "What's happening?"
"Rhea's moving," Jayden said. "Tonight's the broadcast."
She blinked. "Already?"
"Guess she got tired of waiting."
They followed the noise toward the central hub — the old warehouse now pulsing with blue light. Inside, Rhea stood at the center like a conductor before an orchestra, her team of techs surrounding her.
"This is it," she said. "By dawn, the world will see what they've hidden for decades."
---
The Upload
Rows of screens displayed loading bars, coordinates, and file names — hundreds of them.
Layla's eyes darted over the list. "She's dumping everything."
Rhea turned toward them, her expression calm but bright with a kind of fever. "Every report, every cover-up, every falsified record. The system thrives on secrets. We're going to kill its heartbeat."
Jayden frowned. "And what about the people in those files?"
"What about them?"
"Some of them are victims. Witnesses. Kids."
Rhea's smile didn't waver. "Collateral truth."
Hale appeared from the shadows, arm still bandaged, voice hard. "You think they care who they hurt? We're just returning the favor."
Layla shook her head. "This isn't liberation. It's exposure."
Rhea looked between them. "The truth doesn't need to be kind, Layla. It just needs to exist."
Jayden stepped closer. "And when people die because of this?"
Rhea's eyes went cold. "Then they die free."
---
The Spark
The countdown started. Ten minutes.
The Collective gathered outside the warehouse, staring up at the projection screens as if waiting for a sunrise. Jayden stood apart, watching the numbers drop.
Layla whispered, "We have to stop it."
He turned to her. "If we interfere, they'll call us traitors."
"Then we'll be right."
He looked back at Rhea — her calm certainty, the crowd's awe.
He thought about the kids in those folders. Faces that looked too much like his own.
The clock hit five minutes.
Layla grabbed his arm. "We pull the power."
He hesitated for half a heartbeat, then nodded. "Back generator room. Now."
---
The Interruption
The room was small, metal, humming with heat. Wires snaked across the floor like veins. Jayden found the main breaker — old, corroded, but alive.
Layla handed him a wrench. "You sure?"
He nodded. "We've done worse."
They were seconds from pulling it when the door slammed open. Hale stood there, gun in hand.
"Don't," he said quietly.
Jayden didn't move. "You really want this blood on your hands?"
Hale's eyes were tired, not angry. "It's already there."
Layla stepped forward. "Hale, think about what they're doing—"
"I have thought about it," he said. "And I realized something. The only way to kill a monster is to show everyone what it really looks like."
Jayden gritted his teeth. "You show people monsters long enough, they start becoming them."
For a moment, Hale's resolve cracked. Then his hand steadied again. "Move away from the switch."
Jayden met his eyes — two soldiers who'd both survived too much.
Then he dropped the wrench.
But instead of stepping back, he lunged.
The two crashed into the console, sparks bursting around them. The gun went off — once, twice.
Layla screamed.
---
The Fire
Jayden hit the ground, shoulder burning. He rolled, pain flashing white. Hale staggered, gripping his side — the gun falling from his hand.
Smoke filled the room. The power lines hissed, crackling with live current.
Layla grabbed Jayden's arm, pulling him up. "We have to go!"
He shook his head. "The drive. Kill it."
She looked at the panel — wires glowing, the circuit still alive. Without hesitation, she swung the wrench into it.
The impact sparked a blinding flash. The room went black.
Outside, the lights in the compound flickered — then died.
---
The Chaos
Screams erupted outside. The screens went dark mid-upload, files half-transferred. Panic spread like wildfire through the crowd.
Rhea's voice cut through the noise. "Backups! Use the satellites!"
Her techs scrambled, shouting, rerouting power, but nothing held.
The generators had fried. The data was gone.
Rhea turned, eyes finding Jayden and Layla as they stumbled from the smoke. Her expression wasn't fury — it was betrayal, deep and quiet.
"You did this," she said.
Jayden's breath came hard. "You were burning people."
"You think they'll thank you for this mercy?" she said. "You just saved the system another decade."
Layla's voice cracked. "At least no one else dies tonight."
Rhea looked at her — almost gently. "You still believe that, don't you? That saving one life makes up for everything else."
Then she turned to the others. "Lock them down."
---
The Lockdown
The crowd hesitated — divided again. Some obeyed, moving forward slowly. Others backed away, uncertain.
Jayden raised his hands. "You want to be free? Then start acting like it! You follow orders here, you're no better than the cages we came from!"
For a moment, silence. Then someone shouted, "He's right!"
More voices joined. The line between loyalty and rebellion broke in seconds.
Rhea's face hardened. "You've doomed us."
"No," Jayden said. "You doomed yourself when you stopped listening."
He grabbed Layla's hand. Together, they ran into the chaos.
---
The Escape
Gunfire echoed. The floodlights flared back to life — emergency systems kicking in. Shadows darted everywhere.
They sprinted toward the northern fence, breath ragged. Behind them, the compound burned — a slow, creeping fire spreading from the overloaded circuits.
Layla glanced back. "Jay, Hale—"
He shook his head. "He made his choice."
When they reached the fence, Jayden stopped. The same gate they'd entered through days ago. The same freedom that never stayed free.
They crawled through the torn wire just as an explosion ripped through the main building. The heat hit their backs like a wave.
They didn't look back.
---
The Sketch
By dawn, they'd made it to the ridge above the valley. The compound below was nothing but smoke and silence.
Jayden sat on the edge, pulling out his sketchbook with shaking hands. He drew the fire, the shadows running, the glow against the trees.
Underneath, he wrote:
Truth without mercy is just another kind of violence.
Layla leaned against him, her voice small but steady. "You think they'll come after us?"
He nodded. "If there's anyone left to lead them."
She stared at the smoke for a long time. "Then maybe it's time we stop running from their ghosts."
Jayden closed the book. "And start finding our own."
They sat there until the fire faded to ash, the morning wind carrying the last of The Collective's dream into the gray horizon.