The Accord moved fast.
By nightfall, Orven Prime was blanketed in drones. They circled the towers in black swarms, searchlights cutting across the streets. Giant screens that usually showed smiling families now blared warnings in stark red:
"REBELLION IS NOISE. SILENCE IS LOYALTY. REPORT ALL SUSPICIOUS ACTIVITY."
Kael and Mira crouched in the shell of an abandoned metro station, listening as the city above trembled beneath the crackdown. Mira's face was hard, but Kael could see the flicker of pride behind her eyes.
"They're scared," she whispered. "One spark, and they're already shaking."
Kael shifted uncomfortably. His hands still tingled from holding the device, his chest still tight with the memory of voices flooding the city. For a brief moment, Orven Prime had felt alive. But now the silence was heavier than ever—angrier, sharper, like a blade pressing against every throat.
On the Broadcast Tower's upper floors, Director Halden stood before a wall of screens. His pale eyes scanned the footage: citizens clutching their throats as their VoxTags glitched, voices spilling uncontrolled into the air. Chaos, however brief.
Unacceptable.
"The resonance device was crude," he muttered, folding his hands behind his back. "But effective. Which means there are more. Which means there are traitors."
The officer at his side shifted nervously. "Shall we begin sector sweeps, Director?"
Halden's lips curved in something too sharp to be a smile. "No. Sweeps are loud. Obvious. I want silence restored with precision."
He turned toward the window, gazing down at the city below. "Deploy the Quiet Guard. Flood the underground. And raise the bounty. Whoever brings me the rebel who carries the scar of silence…" His hand brushed his own throat meaningfully. "…will be rewarded beyond measure."
Back in the metro station, Kael didn't need Mira's translation to understand.
News traveled quickly, even through silence. Posters appeared on alley walls within hours: grainy sketches of a young man with a scar at his throat. His scar. His face.
Kael stared at one of them, torn between disbelief and terror. For years, the Accord had ignored him, a mute worker no one cared about. Now, suddenly, he was dangerous enough to be hunted.
Mira tore the poster down, crumpling it in her fist. "This was always the risk. The moment you touched that device, you stopped being invisible."
Kael looked at her helplessly, hands moving in frantic gestures: Why me? Why not someone else?
Mira's gaze softened, just slightly. "Because you're proof. A man without a voice still found a way to be heard. To them, that's the greatest threat of all."
Kael swallowed hard. He didn't feel like a threat. He felt like prey.
Above them, the low drone of engines grew louder. Mira's expression hardened again.
"They're coming."
The metro shook as armored boots hit the ground outside. Shadows stretched long across the cracked floor as the Quiet Guard poured into the tunnels.
Kael clutched his chest, heart pounding like a war drum. For the first time, he wished desperately for a voice, not to fight, but to scream.
Mira grabbed his hand. "No more running, Kael. It's time you learned how to survive."
And as the first guard's beam of light cut into the station, Kael realized the spark he had lit was now a fire and it was about to consume him.