Chapter 4: Ward 22

The air inside the abandoned transit terminal was cold, humming with the sound of distant electric currents—silent evidence of a world too dependent on invisible systems. Ryo and Elena crouched behind an overturned bench, waiting for the drone swarm to pass. The drones zipped overhead, sleek black bodies fading into the night, their low whir barely audible over the hum of old generators.

Ryo exhaled through his nose, his heart still pounding in his ears. "We can’t stay in one place long."

Elena leaned against the cracked wall, her face masked with frustration. "Yeah, and where exactly do you suggest we go? They know we’re looking for the core. If they find us first—"

Ryo cut her off with a sharp glance. "They won’t."

Before she could argue further, a message flashed on Ryo’s holo-interface. A signal. Faint, encrypted. Someone was trying to reach them. Ryo squinted at the interface as the decryption program ran in rapid streams of blue code.

Then, a familiar voice broke through.

"Meet me at the edge of Ward 22. It’s Aya."

Elena gave him a skeptical look. "Aya? You sure about this?"

Ryo clenched his jaw. "No. But we don't have a choice."

The transport pod glided to a stop at a dead-end station along the decaying perimeter of Ward 22—a desolate zone riddled with collapsed buildings and faded holograms that glitched randomly, remnants of a once-thriving entertainment district. Ivy and cracked pavement fought for dominance over the ruined streets.

Elena stepped out first, her boots crunching against debris. She scanned the street with a wary gaze. "I don't like this. She just sends us a signal out of nowhere, and we’re supposed to believe it?"

Ryo adjusted the strap of his gear bag. "She was part of the original resistance. If anyone knows how the network operated, it’s Aya."

"She also vanished for years without a word." Elena’s voice was edged with suspicion. "People don’t disappear for that long without a reason."

They moved cautiously along the alleyways, their footsteps muted by the thick grime coating the ground. Neon signs flickered overhead, their distorted advertisements shifting between illegible slogans and ghostly figures trapped in endless loops. Somewhere nearby, a vending unit beeped—another malfunctioning relic, spilling cans of long-expired drinks into the gutter.

Suddenly, a slim figure emerged from the shadows ahead—a woman dressed in layered utility clothing, her dark hair tied into a loose bun. Her eyes glimmered with a mixture of wariness and defiance.

It was Aya.

Elena tensed beside Ryo, ready for anything. Aya lifted her hands in a non-threatening gesture but smirked as though amused by Elena’s distrust. "Still quick to assume the worst, I see."

Elena crossed her arms, glaring. "Can you blame me?"

Ryo stepped forward, his gaze locked on Aya. "Where have you been? We thought you—"

"Died?" Aya interrupted with a sardonic smile. "Close enough. Let’s just say I found things I wasn’t supposed to."

She turned sharply and gestured for them to follow. "Come with me. There’s a place we can talk without prying eyes."

They exchanged glances before following her deeper into the ruins. Elena kept her hand close to her sidearm, her eyes never leaving Aya’s back. "If this is a trap..." she muttered under her breath.

Ryo didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.

Aya led them to an underground shelter hidden beneath the remains of a long-abandoned cinema. Inside, the walls were lined with ancient servers and forgotten hardware, their monitors glowing dimly with flickering lines of code. The air smelled of copper and dust.

Aya sat cross-legged on a pile of old blankets, motioning for Ryo and Elena to join her. "You wanted the truth about the emotional network?" She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "Here it is: the network wasn’t just meant to manage emotions—it was designed to erase them. Permanently."

Ryo felt a chill run down his spine. "You mean they weren’t just suppressing emotions temporarily? They were wiping them out for good?"

Aya nodded. "Every time the signal was activated, it burned out the neural pathways tied to those emotions. People didn’t just stop feeling fear, anger, or ambition. They lost the capacity to ever feel them again."

Elena’s jaw tightened. "And no one knew?"

"Most didn’t." Aya’s expression darkened. "The Continuum ensured that anyone who figured it out disappeared—just like I almost did."

Elena leaned back, running her hand through her hair in disbelief. "So what’s your angle? Why reach out now?"

Aya’s eyes flashed with intensity. "Because the network wasn’t fully deactivated. It’s still in the infrastructure—buried, dormant. The Continuum is waiting for the right moment to reactivate it on a global scale."

Ryo leaned forward, adrenaline spiking through him. "How close are they?"

Aya exhaled, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Closer than you think. They’ve already started testing it in small zones. People will wake up one day and realize they’ve lost something—but by then, it’ll be too late to reverse it."

Silence settled over the room, heavy with the weight of what they had just learned.

"So what do we do?" Elena finally asked, her tone sharp and focused.

Aya stood, walking over to a dusty console. She tapped a few keys, and a glowing map of the city projected into the air. Several sectors pulsed with faint red dots—zones where the signal was already being tested.

"We start with these locations," Aya said. "Each zone has a relay point. If we disable them one by one, we can prevent full reactivation."

Ryo stared at the map, his mind racing. "And the core? Where’s the heart of the system?"

Aya’s expression darkened. "I don’t know yet. But I know someone who might."

Elena shot Aya a skeptical glance. "And let me guess, this someone is even harder to find than you were?"

Aya smirked, though there was no humor in it. "Let’s just say... he doesn’t like visitors. But if anyone knows how the core works, it’s him."

Ryo stood, already feeling the weight of the mission settling on his shoulders. "Then we’ll find him."

Aya folded her arms. "It won’t be easy. And if the Continuum finds out what we’re doing, they’ll come for us. Hard."

Ryo exchanged a glance with Elena. "We’ve already made enemies. What’s a few more?"

Aya smiled—just a flicker, gone before it fully formed. "Good. You’re going to need that stubborn streak where we’re going."

As they prepared to leave the shelter, Aya placed a hand on Ryo’s shoulder. "One more thing. You need to understand something about the network."

Ryo looked at her, waiting.

"It’s not just about erasing fear or anger," Aya said softly. "It erases hope too. The people living under its control—they don’t fight because they don’t know how to hope anymore."

Ryo swallowed, the weight of her words sinking in.

Elena’s voice was low, almost resigned. "So even if we shut it all down... what then? People won’t know how to live without it."

Aya gave a sad, knowing smile. "That’s the price of freedom. Not everyone will want it."