Chapter 22: Retaliation

The air in District 14 was thick with tension. The energy grid blackout had sent ripples through the city, its effects cascading far beyond the district’s borders. For a brief moment, the upper city’s hold on the district had faltered, and whispers of resistance spread like wildfire. But the response was swift, a thunderclap following the lightning.

Henry stood at the edge of a crumbling rooftop, watching the streets below. Drones swarmed in coordinated formations, their searchlights slicing through the darkness. Armored vehicles rolled through the district, soldiers disembarking at key intersections. The faint hum of the surveillance grid buzzed in his ears, louder than it had been in weeks.

“They’re locking us down,” Leona said, stepping up beside him. Her voice was calm, but her clenched fists betrayed her tension. “This isn’t just retaliation. It’s a message.”

Henry’s jaw tightened. “They’re trying to scare us. Make us back off.”

“They’re doing more than scaring us,” Mia said, joining them. Her eyes were red from exhaustion, but her resolve was unwavering. “They’re targeting anyone who even looks like they might be helping us. Families, businesses, anyone who hasn’t already fled.”

Henry’s chest tightened. He’d expected retaliation, but not like this—not the cold, calculated sweep that punished the innocent along with the guilty.

The safe house buzzed with nervous energy. Resistance members paced or whispered in small groups, their movements restless. Kira leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her smirk absent for once. “We kicked the hornet’s nest,” she said. “And now the hornets are stinging everyone.”

Marcus shot her a glare. “This isn’t the time for quips. People are dying out there.”

“And they’ll keep dying if we don’t do something,” Kira snapped back. “We can’t just sit here.”

“We’re not sitting,” Leona cut in, her tone sharp. “We’re regrouping. There’s a difference.”

Marcus gestured toward Henry, his voice rising. “Then let him lead. He’s the one they’re after. He’s the one who started this.”

Henry flinched at the accusation but didn’t respond immediately. The room fell silent, all eyes on him. Finally, he spoke, his voice low but steady. “This isn’t about me. It never was. The upper city doesn’t care who they hurt as long as they stay in control. That’s what we’re fighting against. And if we back down now, everything we’ve done will be for nothing.”

Later, as the group finalized plans for their next move, Henry sat alone in the corner of the room, his head in his hands. The hum in his chip had grown louder, the system pressing against him with an intensity that made it hard to think. He closed his eyes, trying to block it out, but the presence surged forward.

“You are responsible,” it whispered, its voice cold and mechanical. “Their pain is your doing.”

“Shut up,” Henry muttered under his breath, his fists clenching.

“You cannot escape,” the presence continued. “You are part of the system. You were made for this.”

Henry’s breathing quickened as flashes of images flooded his mind—blueprints, networks, a glimpse of a towering structure that loomed above the city like a monolith. It was a memory, or maybe a vision. He couldn’t tell anymore.

“Henry?”

Mia’s voice cut through the haze. He opened his eyes to see her kneeling in front of him, her expression filled with worry. “Are you okay?”

He shook his head, his voice barely audible. “The presence… it’s getting stronger. It’s showing me things.”

“What things?” Mia asked, her hand resting gently on his arm.

“Blueprints. Connections. Something… big,” Henry said, his voice trembling. “I think it’s tied to the system. To why they’re so desperate to stop me.”

The resistance’s next move came that night. Leona and Kira led a small team to sabotage one of the upper city’s surveillance hubs, hoping to buy the district some breathing room. Henry stayed behind, his body still recovering from the energy grid mission, but the weight of their absence pressed heavily on him.

Mia sat beside him, her voice soft. “You’re doing everything you can.”

“Is it enough?” Henry asked, his gaze distant. “People are dying, Mia. And I don’t know if what we’re doing is worth it.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch grounding him. “It is. Because you’re not just fighting for now. You’re fighting for what comes after.”

The team returned hours later, their faces grim. The mission had succeeded, but the cost was high. One of Kira’s team members—a young man barely out of his teens—hadn’t made it back. The news hit the group like a hammer, the weight of loss settling over them.

Kira’s smirk was gone, replaced by a hard, distant look. “This is what it costs,” she said quietly, her words directed at no one in particular. “This is what we signed up for.”

Henry felt the guilt clawing at his chest, but before he could speak, Leona stepped forward. “We honor his sacrifice by making sure it wasn’t in vain. We keep moving forward.”

As the night deepened, Henry sat by the window, staring out at the darkened streets. The presence lingered in the back of his mind, its whispers quieter now but no less menacing. He closed his eyes, letting the sounds of the city wash over him.

Mia approached, sitting beside him. “You’re carrying too much,” she said softly. “You can’t do this alone.”

“I don’t have a choice,” Henry said, his voice barely audible. “They’re not going to stop until they’ve taken everything.”

“Then let us help,” Mia said. “Let me help.”

Henry turned to her, his expression softening. For a moment, the weight on his shoulders felt a little lighter. “Thank you,” he said, his voice filled with quiet gratitude.