Echoes of the System

The chip felt heavier than it should have. Ember rolled it between her fingers as she sat on the cold floor of her tiny apartment, the flickering light above casting long shadows on the cracked walls. She'd locked the door, drawn the blinds, but none of that mattered. The real threat wasn't outside. It was the question buzzing in her head like static:

Why me?

Her reflection in the dusty mirror across the room looked the same—same dull brown eyes, same dark hair tucked behind her ears, same blank expression she'd perfected over the years. But something was different now. Not in her face. In her chest. Like a door had cracked open, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shut it.

She stared at the chip. A simple piece of metal, etched with a symbol she didn't recognize—half a flame, half a broken chain.

The Regime's hunting you. That makes you ours.

Kai's words echoed in her head, annoying and persistent. She hated how calm he'd been, how certain. Like she was some puzzle he'd already solved.

Ember shoved the chip into a loose floorboard beneath her bed and forced herself to lie down, staring at the ceiling. Sleep didn't come easy—not that it ever did—but when it finally pulled her under, it was dark and restless.

The Dream

She was running again. The city stretched on forever, buildings melting into shadows, streets shifting beneath her feet. But this time, no Enforcers chased her. It was something worse.

Silence.

Not the peaceful kind. The kind that roared in her ears, pressing down on her like gravity. She screamed, but no sound came out. She clutched her chest, feeling—nothing.

Her heart wasn't beating.

She woke with a gasp, drenched in sweat, the early light bleeding through the cracks in the blinds. Her chest heaved, but at least her heart was still there, thudding like a drum.

I need answers.

The Streets Again

She shouldn't have gone looking for him. It was reckless, stupid even. But curiosity was louder than fear now.

Finding Kai wasn't hard. The Regime controlled the city, but Kai moved through it like he owned the shadows. She spotted him near the old marketplace, slipping between abandoned stalls like a ghost.

She followed.

He knew she was there before she even spoke.

"You're not great at sneaking," he said without turning around.

Ember rolled her eyes. "Wasn't trying to."

Kai finally faced her, leaning against a rusted support beam, arms crossed. That same infuriating smirk tugged at his lips. "Changed your mind?"

"No," she snapped. "I just have questions."

"Figured you would." He jerked his head, motioning for her to follow. "Not here."

They ended up in an underground space—an old storage room beneath a collapsed building. Flickering lights cast weak pools of yellow across cracked concrete. Ember's heart raced, but not from fear this time. It was the unknown—the answers she both wanted and dreaded.

Kai sat on a crate, resting his elbows on his knees. "Ask."

She didn't waste time. "How do you know who I am?"

He shrugged. "We've been watching people like you. People who don't break under the Regime's control. You're rare."

"People like me?" Her voice was sharp. "I'm not special."

Kai's gaze darkened, the playfulness fading. "You feel, Ember. In a world where no one's supposed to. That makes you more than special. That makes you dangerous."

The words hit harder than she expected.

She crossed her arms, defensive. "So what? You think I'm some weapon you can use?"

Kai didn't flinch. "No. The Regime already sees you as that. We see you as hope."

Hope. She hated the word. Hope was fragile. Hope got people killed.

Ember shook her head. "I'm not interested in your rebellion."

Kai stood slowly, stepping closer until there was barely a breath between them. His voice dropped to a whisper, but it was sharper than any shout.

"You don't get to choose. You're already part of it."

Ember held his gaze, her chest tight. But for the first time in a long time, it wasn't fear tightening it.

It was something else.