12:03 AM – South Sector, Block 6 – Derelict Street
The city wasn't quiet tonight.
It was pretending.
Low fog rolled off the streets like old smoke, hiding flickering signs and broken drone lights. Eon walked alone, half-shadow under a dying overpass, tracking an unregistered frequency leak — possibly TRACE, possibly garbage.
Then he heard it.
A scream.
Short. Sharp. Real.
He paused, scanning.
Another scream. This time closer.
His eyes narrowed, steps turning fast.
He rounded a corner and saw them — two men, mid-twenties, desperate in the way predators always were. One had a blade. The other was watching the alley mouth.
Their target: a girl, no older than sixteen, back to a wall, hands shaking.
"Don't make this harder," the man with the knife said.
Eon dropped his shoulder bag silently behind him. No weapons. No plan. Just instinct.
He stepped forward. "Hey."
The guy turned. "Mind your own—"
Eon didn't let him finish. He lunged, grabbed a rusted pipe from the trash heap, and swung.
Metal hit ribs. The man buckled, gasping. The second rushed Eon and threw a punch — solid, fast. It caught Eon in the jaw, sent him stumbling.
But Eon moved with it, turned the fall into momentum, twisted, slammed the pipe into the man's knee. He went down with a howl.
The girl bolted past them, out into the street. Safe.
The alley fell still again. Eon's hands shook.
Blood slicked his knuckles.
It hadn't been clean. Or graceful.
But it worked.
2:17 AM – Eon's Apartment – South Sector 12A
The terminal lit up as soon as he entered.
Kasten Core: OFFLINE
Eon hesitated, then keyed it open.
KASTEN CORE: INITIALIZING...
WARNINGS: LOCALIZED VIOLENCE SURGE
PATTERNS DETECTED: TRACE PRESENCE — UNKNOWN
SECURITY GRID STABILITY: DEGRADING
CITY CRIME INDEX: SPIKING
The map unfolded in front of him.
Flashes of red marked rising crimes — break-ins, assaults, system sabotage.
He sat down, staring at it all.
Convex wasn't fixing it.
TRACE was thriving in it.
And he had almost watched someone get torn apart two blocks from his apartment.
He clicked open the schematic folder he hadn't touched in months.
A blank slate.
His fingers hovered.
Then they started typing.
Prototype Phase — Gear Lab Log
Entry 01: E-Pulse Staff
Carbon core, collapsible. Channels electric pulse through an inner conduit. Adjustable shock level — enough to fry drone sensors, drop a human, but not kill. Hopefully.
YOU ARE READING
If Then Else
Science FictionWhat if every choice you made... was never really yours? Eon Vale uncovers a hidden algorithm embedded in the very apps and systems the world depends on. It doesn't control actions. It controls thought. And it's watching him.
