Chapter 20: The Price of Truth

Faye emerged from behind a collapsed console, her face smudged with soot. She clutched a makeshift bandage around her arm, her movements stiff. “We bought ourselves some time,” she said, her voice strained. “But it’s not enough. The System will regroup.”

“We need to get everyone out of here,” Kiryu replied, his voice firm despite the weight of exhaustion pressing on him. “What’s left of them.”

Faye’s expression darkened as she glanced around the room. The network’s numbers had dwindled during the assault, many falling in the desperate bid to hold the sanctuary. Tujo was nowhere to be seen.

“Tujo went to the north wing to slow them down,” Faye said, as if reading Kiryu’s thoughts. “He hasn’t checked in.”

Kiryu’s jaw tightened. “I’ll find him. You focus on evacuating the others.”

The north wing was a maze of destruction. The walls were scorched black, and the floor was littered with debris. Sparks flickered from exposed wires, casting eerie shadows that danced across the narrow corridors. Kiryu moved cautiously, his weapon at the ready.

He found Tujo near the end of the corridor, slumped against a wall. His armor was scorched, his weapon lying just out of reach. Blood pooled around him, staining the floor. Tujo’s breathing was labored, his chest rising and falling in uneven intervals.

“Tujo!” Kiryu dropped to his knees, his hands hovering uncertainly before settling on Tujo’s shoulder. “What happened?”

Tujo’s eyes fluttered open, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Took out as many as I could,” he rasped. “Guess I’m not as indestructible as I thought.”

“We’re getting you out of here,” Kiryu said, his voice firm. He began to lift Tujo, but the older man shook his head, his expression turning grim.

“No,” Tujo said. “You need to go. The System’s sending reinforcements. If you stay, neither of us makes it out.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Kiryu replied, his voice breaking. “Not after everything.”

Tujo’s hand gripped Kiryu’s arm, his strength surprising. Kiryu felt a surge of conflicting emotions—relief that Tujo was still fighting, even in this state, and a deep ache at the sheer determination that drove him to endure. That grip, firm and unyielding, carried not just strength but the weight of their shared mission and sacrifice. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice low but intense. “This fight isn’t about me. It’s about you. You have the truth now. You can finish this.”

Kiryu’s vision blurred with tears, but he nodded, the weight of Tujo’s words settling heavily on his shoulders. “I’ll come back for you,” he promised.

Tujo’s smirk returned, softer this time. “Sure you will, kid. Now go.”

The evacuation was chaotic. Faye and the remaining network members worked frantically to gather supplies and transport the injured, their hurried footsteps echoing through the corridors alongside the strained voices of those in pain. The sanctuary’s defenses were all but gone, leaving them vulnerable to another assault.

Kiryu rejoined the group, his expression grim. Faye glanced at him, her eyes searching his face for answers. “Tujo?” she asked quietly.

Kiryu shook his head, unable to find the words. Faye’s shoulders sagged, but she didn’t press him. There was no time for mourning.

The survivors moved quickly, their footsteps echoing through the desolate corridors. The sanctuary, once a haven, now felt like a tomb. Kiryu couldn’t shake the feeling that they were leaving a part of themselves behind.

As they emerged into the city, the extent of the System’s reach became painfully clear. The memories they had broadcast were already spreading, their light cutting through the fabricated perfection of Paradoxium. People stopped in the streets, their gazes fixed on the images projected into the sky. Scenes of the real world, of the lives they had forgotten, played out like ghosts haunting the present. A mother hugging her child under a real sky, an elderly man tending to a small garden, and a group of people celebrating together beneath vibrant, unfiltered sunlight—these moments of humanity shimmered above the city, piercing through the manufactured facade of Paradoxium.

But the System was not idle. Its enforcers moved among the crowd, their visors glowing as they scanned for signs of dissent. The tension was palpable, the city teetering on the edge of chaos.

“We need to keep moving,” Faye said, her voice cutting through the din. “The System won’t let this stand.”

Kiryu nodded, his grip tightening on the crystal in his pack. The truth was out there now, a spark that could ignite a revolution. But it would come at a cost. The price of truth was steep, and Kiryu knew they had only begun to pay it.

Later that night, as the group took refuge in an abandoned structure on the outskirts of the city, Kiryu sat alone, the weight of the day pressing heavily on him. The building was a skeletal remnant of its former self, with walls crumbling into heaps of dust and windows shattered, letting the cold night air seep in. The faint sound of dripping water echoed in the distance, and the dim moonlight filtering through the cracks cast long, haunting shadows across the floor. The crystal rested in his hands, its glow dim but steady. He thought of Tujo, of the sacrifices that had been made to bring them to this point.

Faye approached, her steps soft against the cracked floor. She sat beside him, her gaze fixed on the crystal. “You did the right thing,” she said quietly.

Kiryu didn’t respond immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was low. “Then why does it feel like we’ve lost?”

Faye placed a hand on his shoulder, her grip firm. “Because we have. But we’ve also started something bigger than ourselves. And that matters.”

Kiryu nodded, the weight of her words settling over him. The fight was far from over, but for the first time, he felt a flicker of hope. They had paid a heavy price for the truth, but it was a price worth paying.