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The night had barely settled when Hayamei found herself back on the cracked pavement, the cold biting through her jacket. Ghost's words echoed in her mind — children turned weapons, an army trained in darkness. The weight of it sat heavy on her shoulders, but she couldn't afford to collapse under it.
Aiyana limped alongside her, every step a reminder of past battles and old scars. "You know this fight's going to cost us, right? Not just blood, but trust."
Hayamei glanced at her sister, the fire still raging in Aiyana's eyes. "I don't trust anyone anymore. But I trust you."
They moved through the shadows, ghosts among ghosts, making their way to the meeting point where Malik had promised crucial intel. But when they arrived, the scene was chilling.
Empty.
No Malik. No sign of struggle — just silence, thick and suffocating.
A text blinked on Hayamei's phone.
"They're watching. Stay sharp. —M"
The line between friend and foe blurred faster than she could catch. And Ghost? He was close, but was he still on her side?
Tonight, the war wasn't just outside. It was inside. The rain started again, soft and steady, as if the sky itself was mourning what was to come. Hayamei's eyes scanned the dark alley where Malik's message had led them. Every shadow was a threat, every sound a warning.
Aiyana's breath was shallow beside her. "If Malik's been compromised, we're already two steps behind."
Hayamei clenched her fists. "Then we don't have the luxury of hesitation."
Suddenly, a rustle behind a dumpster caught their attention. Hayamei raised her gun. A figure emerged — drenched, bruised, but alive.
Malik.
"Got word the father's men are closing in," he whispered, eyes darting. "They've got a new weapon — something that's more than just guns and muscle."
Hayamei's heart skipped.
"Tell me everything," she said.
Malik's voice dropped. "It's the children. The ones they've been experimenting on — they're controlling them now. Turning them into puppets."
Aiyana swallowed hard. "We're running out of time."
⸻
The storm outside intensified, and so did the war within. Malik's voice was barely a whisper, but each word hit harder than a bullet.
"They're using some kind of neural implant. Controls the kids like drones. They've already lost a few—they call it the 'Blackout Protocol.' When it activates, the kids become weapons without will."
Hayamei's grip tightened on her gun. "Na'Nami..."
Aiyana's jaw clenched. "We have to find a way to stop it."
