Dawn of a Revolution

Main Tower, Osaka Castle  //   Chuo Ward

Icarus’s gaze settles on a display of Japanese samurai armor, tracing the ridged plates with his fingers. A relic of a bygone era. He stands, lost in thought, surrounded by museum displays of artifacts within the top floor of the castle tower.

He steps out onto the narrow balcony. From his vantage point, the city sprawls beneath him, along with his domain of the castle grounds.

He descends the narrow stairwell, down several stories until he enters a vast chamber in the lower dungeon. The air hangs heavy with the smell of chemicals and metal. Inside cells that once held prisoners, are instead filled with stolen barrels and crates of raw material. Among the labels: HFB, Cerium Oxide, Nitric Acid.

The chamber is full of industrial activity. Workers swarm around tirelessly around a monstrous assembly line. Boxes of cotton balls are dumped into a gaping funnel, while giant hoses snake into the chemical barrels. Vats on wheels are aligned with chutes, ready to receive the output.

Locke strides into the hall with the chip firmly in hand. She places it on a table alongside the other pieces of the puzzle: the algorithmic cube and the other two storage chips.

All the pieces are all here.

“Finally…” Caleb can barely conceal his fervor, “The algorithm for mass production, the engine of our revolution, is here. Five years of meticulous preparation, and it all boils down to this.”

He carefully picks up the carbon fiber cube with both hands. He approaches the towering machine and inserts the cube into its cradle. It glows bright red as it lowers into its chamber, flaps snapping shut. He slots the chips into their designated bays, one by one.

The final chip, the one that cost him so much effort to reacquire, is inserted with much fanfare.

The assembly line roars to life. The machines whirr and churn, presses slam down their molds, and chemicals gurgle through tubing. It’s a metallic monster awakening from its slumber.

Icarus waits eagerly for his prize at the end of the conveyor belt. Finally, it happens. Sleek, single-shot rifles, metallic and streamlined, emerge at the end of a line. Clinking down the chute and landing sporadically in the empty vat, are the cartridges: powdered charge and lead projectile melded into a single cylindrical package.

The ammunition.

Icarus plucks one of the rifles from the line, his fingers running over the freshly-stamped surface, admiring the first of his mass-produced prototype.

He cracks open the loading chamber, inserts a cartridge, and snaps it shut. He raises the rifle, taking aim at a soda can sitting at a table on the far wall.

The weapon hums into a high pitch as it charges its ignitor. He pulls the trigger. A thunderous crack.

The projectile pierces the can dead-center, spraying fizzy liquid all over the vicinity.

The Accel Order workers erupt in cheers, rejoicing at their success.

As the rifles continue to roll off the assembly line workers grab the bodies and assemble the finishing touches. Once finished, they’re handed off to their new eager users.

Order members cradle their new weapons, checking mechanics, experiencing a rush of adrenaline. The power to start a revolution, right in their hands.

Icarus notices a distinctive white suit in his periphery.

“Ah, Dreyse. What is it?” He asks without looking.

“Master Icarus, you have a guest,” Dreyse announces, accompanied by the unmistakable clack of Enforcement-issued boots.

Sergeant Nambu appears, her posture stiff, her usual aura of authority now shrunken to subservience.

“Icarus-sama. The Council is mobilizing a raid on the Castle for tomorrow. I apologize, but I have done all I’ve can to keep them at bay.” she lowers her gaze to the floor.

“Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time.” There is no concern in Icarus’s voice.

He pulls out his phone, flips it open, and taps a few buttons on the keypad. The screen displays: “Monitoring vitals…”

“I have failed you. I will accept any punishment you deem worthy,” Nambu pleas, but her voice is devoid of emotion.

“Eiko, you’ve kept Enforcement away from us as long as you could. Luckily, they cannot stop us anymore.”

“Thank you for your mercy, Icarus-sama,” she exhales quietly, giving herself some relief.

“Unfortunately, even if you are on my side, you still represent the system. You won’t be leaving the castle tonight.” He raises his new rifle, aiming it directly at her, his finger hovering over the trigger. “I cannot let you leave with what you know now.”

Nambu’s eyes widen. “Wait. I can still fight alongside you.” Her voice shakes with terror.

He smirks, a cold, calculating glint in his eye. “No. You will not.”

Nambu closes her eyes, accepting her fate. She stands tall, willing to die on the balls of her feet. This is the end for her.

But Icarus flips the rifle, offering it to her instead. She stares down at the butt of the rifle. Relief washes over her as feelings of resignation is replaced with hope.

“Even though this will be our last stand, there’s still much ahead for you.”

Her gaze snaps up, locking onto Icarus's eyes. “And what is that?”

A cryptic grin plays on his lips. “Contingency.”

...

As evening traffic chokes Osaka's streets, a convoy of flatbed and box trucks winds its way off the expressway and through the city's main arteries. The vehicles turn onto the dirt pedestrian paths surrounding Osaka Castle, drawing annoyed glares from joggers trying to squeeze in their last run of the day. The trucks rumble across the bridge spanning the inner moat and pull up to the castle's main gate where two construction workers in high-vis safety vests stand guard.

The lead driver rolls down his window. “Virtus per ignem,” he mutters.

The two workers nod and heave the ancient wood and iron gates open by hand. The convoy moves inside, and the gates creak shut behind them.

As the trucks park themselves in the inner courtyard, another worker throws open the container doors. unloading equipment, barrels, and crates from the trucks by hand.

Locke emerges, from the castle her scarf fluttering as she strides across the courtyard. Workers step aside out of her way as she arrives to oversee the unloading operation.

She pauses when she hears buzzing overhead. Her eyes track a drone hovering above with its camera peeping at all their activities in the castle. She glares back into the camera, hopefully sending a message for whoever is piloting. A crack echoes throughout the complex. Locke’s shot from her pistol causes the drone to explode in a series of sparks. Like shooting fish in a barrel.

***

Analysis Bay, Interpol Unit 7 HQ  //  Itami Airport

Tomomi's fingers trace on the touch screen as she adjust the drone’s flight path guiding it toward the tracking ping on her second screen. Ray watches her from behind, staring at the camera feed intently.

On screen, the castle looms ahead, its facade partially wrapped in restoration scaffolding.

Just as the drone approaches the outer moat, a message flashes across the screen:

Error: Waypoint within Level 1 No Fly Zone

She groans as she leans back in her chair.

“I can call for Enforcement for authorization.” Ray says.

“That’ll take too long.”

She opens the console and types in override commands on her compute box. She grabs her game controller. She tests the inputs, and the drone responds to her controls, dipping and weaving as she directs it closer to the castle walls. As soon as the drone is over the inner moat, she zooms the camera in.

On screen, she witness workers swarm like ants below, unloading the convoy of trucks and dragging various cargo into the wooden outbuildings scattered across the castle grounds.

“Awfully a lot of activity for restoration work,” she mutters, hammering the screenshot button to document everything she sees.

As she pans the camera, she catches a woman wearing a scarf amongst the activity. Her familiar silhouette captures Ray’s attention.

“Zoom in on that person.” He points at the screen.

Tomomi zooms in further. The silhouette's figure becomes clear: It's Locke. Ray’s brow furrows at the revelation.

Locke stops and stares directly into the lens, her intense gaze seeming to pierce through the screen itself directly at Ray.

Then static. Connection lost. The drone is destroyed.

“Damn it. They were right under our noses this whole time.” Ray growls. “Calling Enforcement won’t be enough.”