The city was too quiet.
No sirens. No arguments. No gunshots.
Just the hum of machines keeping perfect rhythm.
For weeks, not a single crime had gone unpunished.
Not one injustice left unseen.
And yet, beneath the surface — fear spread like wildfire.
In the abandoned metro tunnels, a group gathered around flickering lanterns. Their faces were hidden by masks, their voices low.
A symbol painted in crimson glowed on the concrete wall — a broken infinity sign.
> "We can't breathe under his order," said a woman, her voice trembling. "Every thought is watched. Every move weighed."
"The Balance sees everything," another muttered. "And he decides what's good or bad."
Then Arata stepped forward, coat dripping from the rain.
"Then it's time we teach him what it means to be human again."
The room went still.
Everyone knew that voice.
Arata — the detective once trusted by the system — was now an enemy of the god.
Far away, Sera was tracing a pulse — a flicker of data deep inside the main network. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, eyes locked on the screen.
She wasn't trying to destroy the system anymore.
She was searching for something. Someone.
Every time the golden light moved, her heart skipped.
And then… she found it.
A heartbeat.
Not digital — human.
"Lucian," she whispered, tears glinting in the glow. "You're still alive in there."
The code around it shimmered, responding to her touch.
But before she could access it, a dark surge hit her computer, frying half her system.
A message burned across her last working monitor —
> "You shouldn't have looked, Sera."
Her breath hitched. The voice was different.
Cold. Metallic.
Kane.
Inside the digital void, two voices echoed.
> "She's trying to reach us."
"She's trying to break us."
Lucian and Kane — one heart, two minds — struggled within their merged existence.
Lucian's side flickered like dying light, memories of laughter, love, and warmth bleeding into static.
> "She saved me once…"
"And she'll destroy you again."
The world outside trembled for a moment, lights dimming across the skyline.
The Balance faltered — for the first time.
Back in the metro, Arata held a small device — a pulse disruptor, designed to break the city's perfect synchronization for only five seconds.
"Five seconds of silence," he said. "That's all we get. Then he'll know."
"Five seconds to what?" someone asked.
"To open a door," he replied.
They activated it.
The city stuttered — lights flickering, signals dying. For a brief heartbeat, the world went quiet.
And in that moment, the sky above the city cracked with light — the ribbon sigil shattered like glass.
Everyone looked up.
The god had noticed.
In the dark digital realm, Kane's voice turned sharp.
> "Someone touched the source."
Lucian's flickering consciousness whispered faintly —
> "Arata… he's coming for me."
The darkness trembled.
> "Then let him try."
And the Balance opened its eyes — for the first time since creation.