Arthur Highland's sudden death was a chilling reminder of how this world works. It is a world that rewards the evil and punishes the righteous. If you were born into wealth, life was a breeze that moved along as smooth as butter. You had no obstacles to face and no real burdens to carry through your long, easy day. You only had blissful ignorance to keep you company. I used to wish I could be that ignorant. I used to pray for that kind of blindness. But I don't think I could ever look Drew Andre in the eye again if I chose that path. He was the man who taught me to fight for my own rights, even when the entire world told me I had none. He was the one who showed me that we were more than just the dirt beneath the city's feet.
Drew was born on the ragged, jagged edges of the Antafa District. It was a place known for being rebellious against any form of authority that tried to choke the life out of it. He came from a family of scavengers, people who spent every waking hour of their lives looking for value in what others threw away as garbage. Most of his childhood was spent in the deep belly of garbage dumps, surrounded by the overwhelming stench of decay and rot. I remember him telling me how he used to be fascinated by the trash. He would dig through the rot for hours just to find something new, something that hadn't been touched by the filth yet. It was the only way he could enjoy a life that was otherwise boring and pathetic. It gave him just a second of discovery in a world that offered nothing. His parents tried their best to protect him, but deep down, they knew the truth. They knew the world didn't care about a bunch of garbage pickers. They knew he'd eventually be tossed aside like the very trash he sifted through, simply because of where he came from.
Drew was like me. He saw the cruelty of this world with clear eyes, but unlike me, he chose not to just suffer through it in silence. I remember the day I truly saw him like it was yesterday. I had come home after a miserable, exhausting day at work. I was honestly thinking about ending it all right then and there. Before I did anything, I turned on the television just to hear some noise to drown out my own dark thoughts. That's when I saw the interview. It was on a local station that usually played static. Drew spoke for a long time, but one thing he said stuck in my head so hard that I still remember it today. He said there is no such thing as someone truly in power. He said they are just temporary holders of it. The real power belongs to the people. He said if we all collectively decided to stop accepting the cruelty and started fighting it, no one could quiet our voices. No one could tell us we were wrong for choosing a life of peace over a life of glory. His voice was steady, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I could breathe.
Life in the Antafa District was like being trapped in a locked room with no windows and no light. It was just darkness and your own miserable thoughts for company. The district was used as a dump for everything wrong with the country. Corporations threw massive amounts of garbage nearby and pumped thick chemical waste directly into our water. The sky was polluted with harmful gases until the horizon felt like a solid wall closing in on us. It was a dystopian society located in an apocalyptic world with no signs of life left to give. The sky was usually a dark shade of brown, a color that was caused by the unbelievable and immense amount of pollution that was being pumped into the air by the factories every single hour. The water was not drinkable. It was a liquid poison. You couldn't even breathe properly because of the bacteria in the air rising from the mountains of garbage. It was a living nightmare that we woke up to every single day, and we were expected to be grateful for it.
The saddest part was that the people living there had to rely on the very corporations that poisoned them just to survive. For cleaner water, they needed to buy bottled water from the people who ruined the rivers. For clean air, they needed masks and gas cylinders sold by the people who smoked out the sky. They needed proper clothing to prevent infections from unknown diseases that grew in the trash. They needed the corporations for money, and the corporations needed them to stay desperate and hungry. Millions of people lived in the district since it was the largest one of all. Most of the people in the country were poor or just barely touching the middle class range. Even the middle class weren't treated well, but the ones below them were treated even more harshly, like dirt under a heavy boot. The whole district was surrounded by fences and medical checkpoints to prevent possible outbreaks from reaching the elites. The people there were seen as animals that would eventually die or be put down when they were no longer useful. To those in power, the residents were just test subjects or objects of entertainment for their screens.
Drew grew up knowing exactly how things were run. Local bosses were paid money by massive corporations to keep people in line through fear and violence. If people wished to live, they had to rely on those corporations for their daily needs. Drew wished to end this nightmare once and for all. He wanted to put a rest to the whole hellish situation. He hoped for the younger generations born there to live a better life than he ever did. He wanted them to be happy for once. He wanted them to live a life where they never had to worry about where their next meal was coming from, or if they would ever see their friends again after the sun went down.
He was a smart man, a man whose brain worked faster than anyone I ever knew. Growing up in the garbage dumps meant he never got to make many friends because he was always too busy working to stay alive. His closest friends were books. These were things thrown away by people who never acknowledged the value they had. Drew saw them. He saw the wisdom in the discarded pages. He grew up reading all kinds of books and acquired vast knowledge from them that no school could ever teach. He loved reading, especially picture books with vibrant colors. They allowed him to see different parts of the world and immerse himself in things without actually being there. It was like a treat whenever he discovered a book with pictures that hadn't been ruined by rain. It allowed him to live in his own fantasy world where everyone was happier. It was a world where he was finally happier.
Drew was also a man of deep morals. He was someone who stood by what he believed in and was willing to die for it without a second thought. A long time ago, right before the rebellion started, he was given a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Because of his incredible brain and his vast knowledge, he was offered a high position in a major corporation. He was deemed worthy by those in power to be allowed outside of the Antafa District and be treated as an equal to the elites. He could've lived a life of luxury and happiness. He could have had clean water and clear skies. But his goals were different. He knew what he wanted to do with his life. He wanted to give back to the people he shared his childhood with. He wanted to see them smile for the first time in their lives.
He believed he could change the world if he just left and became someone in power, so this was undoubtedly the hardest decision of his life. He had to decide whether to accept the comfort or deny the offer to stay in the dirt. The thing that made Drew change his mind was the smug, arrogant faces of the agents who came to recruit him. They looked down on him just because he was born in a different place. They thought he was scum that they were doing a favor for. They thought he wasn't worthy of receiving such high praise, and it showed in their eyes. But deep down, Drew knew that everyone is replaceable to people like that. He knew no matter how powerful he got, if he chose the wrong path, he would just be replaced by someone else the moment he stopped being useful.
He had to make the tough choice of denying the offer. This made some people very angry. They couldn't believe Drew had the guts to deny them. How dare he reject their generosity? How dare a lowlife from an abandoned district reject us? He had eyes on him after that, which made his plans even harder to execute. Drew knew better than anyone that strolling into the domain of powerful people wasn't easy. They would do everything in their power to fight back and make sure he never got what he wanted. Even though his goals were simple, achieving them was no easy task. He had to come up with a complex and strong plan that could not fail. He wanted the people to be happier, and he knew it wasn't going to be easy to take that happiness from the hands of the greedy.
Drew came up with a genius, yet deadly plan. He went into hiding, choosing a place where those who wished him harm could never find him. There, in the shadows, he slowly started building a group called Gambit. The name was meant to reflect their ideals. They were willing to sacrifice everything, even their lives, in hopes of achieving their goals. Their slogan was "Yababak," which meant "Remember the Forgotten." They would scream it loud while punching their chests until it bruised. In a world where being forgotten was the ultimate punishment, Gambit made sure to remember every name. The message was clear. These people were not afraid of death because they had already experienced what it was like to be dead while still breathing.
The news was biased toward the people who had the money to pay them, so Drew knew they would never cover his story fairly. His past acts of kindness were seen as harmless, but this time was different. He chose complete defiance. He slowly earned the trust of insiders at one of the major news networks, allowing him to hijack their broadcast. He didn't want to force people to fight, so he made it look like he was the only one behind the hijacking. Since he was known to be smart, no one doubted it. He took over the broadcast during a major sporting event, an event meant to make the country look good to the world, and spread his message.
His words were simple and cutting. "To those who chose to lay down and not fight, those who gave up on their dreams because of fear, the children who lost hope in the darkness, and the forgotten who are seen as less than human: do not fear. I am here to be the light in your hearts. I am here to take a stance for all of us." His actions were already treasonous, but what he said next would lead to his demise. "The people who laugh at us from thrones built on the blood and sweat of our fallen comrades are replaceable. They are nothing but temporary placeholders. If we choose to fight, we can dethrone them. They are human just like us. They can bleed just like us. And they will bleed."
He asked the people to take the money they spent on taxes, money that went to leeches who took everything and gave nothing back, and give that support to him instead. He promised to put his own life on the line for them. His words echoed through the broken souls of the Antafa District. He started a fire in their hearts that couldn't be put out by any amount of chemical water.
This was the beginning of Gambit. They were the government's number one target and were placed under constant, suffocating surveillance. Fear loomed over everyone. If you even spoke the word "Gambit," you were under suspicion by the very people tasked with protecting you. Fortunately, because no one trusted the government, the people refused to inform on the group. Those who did help the police only did so out of pure desperation, threatened by local bosses or the crushing fear of starvation.
Drew's actions were heroic and historic. He sent a message that the people were sick of being treated like third-class citizens. He burned down factories that sent unhealthy, addictive food to Antafa. He destroyed chemical plants that poisoned the water, even though he knew the rivers were already beyond repair. He knew he had to do something even bigger to leave a permanent mark on the people who looked down on his home.
Despite how much people idolized him, Drew never felt like a hero. He knew he was hurting people in the process. His war caused corporations to flee, which meant people in the district lost their jobs and their small incomes. While many were willing to take the risk for the sake of the future, some were unhappy. They just wanted a roof over their heads and a warm blanket for their children. To Drew, their silence was the validation the government needed to continue the oppression. Even with the guilt he felt, he believed he was helping more people than he was hurting. He believed the future was worth the pain of the present.
He decided to gamble everything on one target: the headquarters of the Hallow Corporation. They were famous for selling bottled water, but they had started as a non-profit that claimed to clean rivers. People saw them as saints. Even those who were skeptical, like me, eventually started to believe they were fighting the good fight. But it was all a ploy to grab people's hard-earned money. It was a lie wrapped in a clean bottle.
The truth came out because of a boy named Shawn. Shawn was a young, ambitious man from Antafa who dreamt of helping his family escape the slums. Drew liked him because he was honest and refused to let his surroundings dictate his future. But one day, Shawn disappeared into thin air. Everyone assumed he had run away because his life at home was so hard, but Drew knew the real story. He was devastated. He knew Shawn better than anyone.
Throughout his life, Shawn was a quiet kid. He was smart, too smart to be living in the slums like the rest of the kids, but he chose to stay in Antafa despite several opportunities to leave. He was mocked and was the butt of jokes because he chose to stay in poverty. Yet each and every time he was given the choice, he chose not to leave. He willingly stayed since he always had a dream to fix everything from the inside. He was basically like Drew, selfless, self-righteous, and too smart for his own good. He used to talk to Drew practically every day. He was like a little brother to Drew, a younger version of himself. That is why Drew was his biggest supporter and his biggest hater at the same time. He saw himself in the boy, someone who he wanted to leave behind and save. He saw his own failures in him. That's why Drew wanted Shawn to leave, to change his life and to look after himself instead of the world.
Drew used to have conversations with Shawn for hours. For him, it felt like conversing with his old self and remembering his past before the world turned cold and gray. He saw the joy that Shawn had, his innocence, and his deep desire to explore the world despite how rotten it may be. It melted Drew's heart every single time. To him, it was basically his younger self talking to him and encouraging him to keep going forward even when it felt impossible.
So, Shawn's sudden disappearance hit Drew hard, to the point he became extremely paranoid about everything and everyone. He constantly questioned why he exists in such a cruel place. If he couldn't even protect someone like Shawn, how could he even claim to be someone who protects others? Drew's guilt was piling up, making it an unhealthy obsession to seek out Shawn, to hopefully get some closure. He started over-analyzing every detail to the point everyone around him became extremely concerned about his mental well-being. He would always go to Shawn's home, attempting to have a conversation with Shawn's parents, but they rejected him again and again with cold eyes.
That always rubbed him the wrong way. Why would they send him away when he was attempting to help them find their son? Drew was aware that Shawn's parents were terrible people. They neglected Shawn and attempted to profit off his name. He remembered how brutal the situation had gotten in their home, to the point that Shawn decided to run and hide with Drew. Shawn rejected the offer to a prestigious university, which had his parents furious, constantly hitting him and cussing him, practically forcing him to take the offer so they could live off his success. But he stood his ground and resisted, eventually choosing to run away into the trash. He did come back home after Drew managed to convince him and his parents, despite how much they chose to mock Drew and curse him for turning their son this way. He had ruined their golden ticket out of the Antafa district. Drew saw them as leeches who couldn't do anything in their own life, so they chose to leech off their only son and make his life miserable to guilt-trip him into taking care of them.
Late at night, Drew had a terrible nightmare where Shawn was being brutally beaten to death while he was unable to do anything to stop it. Nightmares like this had been occurring a lot lately, making it harder for Drew to sleep or even think. At that very moment, Drew decided that he had finally had ENOUGH. He stormed out of his room, left his hideout, and directly bolted towards Shawn's parents' house. He knocked very hard on the wood and ordered them to open the door.
Immediately, Shawn's dad came to the door, gave Drew a smug look, and asked what else he was looking to take away from them. Drew LOST IT. He punched that man as hard as he possibly could and sent him back a few feet into the wall. Drew stormed inside and closed the door, destroying the handles so no one could escape his wrath. He DEMANDED that they let him check the entire house. He scanned the entire place until he stumbled upon a locked box. It was very tiny and had no marks or words written on it. Drew forcefully opened it. Shawn's dad tried stopping him by grabbing him from behind, but Drew threw him back again, showing the clear and violent difference in their strength.
Drew opened the box, and what he saw disgusted him to his very core. He saw letters from Shawn. Letters written to Drew but sent to Shawn's parents for some reason. The letters were sad and would make a grown man cry for a week. In those letters, Shawn described what he was going through, his pain, his anger, and his deep sorrow. He described in detail the torture of his mind, but even then, in his letters, he reassured Drew that he was okay and that he was going to tough it up for Drew's sake. Drew started sobbing while reading the letters. He was in deep pain, but what he heard next made him furious beyond reason.
"That useless son of a bitch is finally making a use of himself. At least we won't have to worry about the bills no more," Shawn's father said sarcastically, leaning against the wall Drew had thrown him against.
"He should've taken up that offer to that university, maybe he would've been hanging out with the big boys instead of rot in a cell," said Shawn's mother with a grin on her face, clearly mocking her own son even now.
Drew was so furious he made a ball out of one of the letters and shoved it into Shawn's father's mouth. Then he shot both Shawn's mom and his dad without blinking an eye.
You see, Drew is not a saint. He's not a martyr. He's just someone who is not afraid of pushing through and who does not believe in the constraints set up by others. From his point of view, people who willingly engage in horrible crimes despite their struggles are part of the crime. He believed that Shawn's parents sold or let the Hallow corporation take Shawn into their custody for a monthly payment, making them accomplices in his kidnapping. They were just as guilty as the corporation itself.
From Drew's viewpoint, those who reaped the rewards for the hard work of people who might never see a dime of their own labor were criminals. They are humans too, with families and bellies to fill. Yet all they got in return was nothing but more work. So those who were responsible for this were just as guilty as those who ordered it.
Drew stood in a bloody room with the bodies of two people he once knew. Despite how evil or rotten they might've been, they were still humans who once smiled and had a life. Taking the life of someone you know cuts deep into your soul. It reminds you of who you once were and what you've become in this war. But Shawn's parents were not innocent. Parents are meant to sacrifice their own comfort to provide a comfortable life for their children, yet they put their own lives before their son's. While standing in that bloody room, Drew knew what he had to do. He was determined to kill the real monsters, the ones who weren't created due to desperation, but monsters derived from greed. He wanted to kill them all and devour the fears of those who were afraid to stand up. Drew wanted to be that light, even if it cost his own life.
Drew left the house all bloody, his clothes soaked in red and his face completely silent, as if he walked out of that room as an entirely new person. Drew decided he was going to call a meeting of every Gambit member across the Antafa district. Since they were constantly under watch from the government, they could not communicate via phones or radio. So Drew used the plan he had come up with a long time ago. He slowly walked towards his place and grabbed a heavy box labeled "Yababak." He pulled out a small string, lit it with a lighter, and stood back. Then all of the sudden, the box opened up and fireworks went into the skies. Despite the brown, polluted sky, the fireworks were bright as ever, establishing Gambit's position as a light in the darkness. Then an answering firework went into the sky from far away, and another, and another. Slowly the entire sky across the district was bright. Everyone was ready to go to war for their lives.
The meeting was short. Drew asked them one simple thing. "Are you willing to die? Those who are afraid to die can still leave. Now's the time to choose. If you want freedom, you have to be willing to sacrifice." No one left. They put their entire trust in Drew's judgment and his rage.
The sun was up, but in Antafa, the sun never really felt like a blessing from god. It just made the brown smog look thicker and more suffocating. But today, the haze was interrupted by columns of thick black smoke. Before a single boot touched the marble floors of Hallow HQ, Drew hit the veins of the corporation. Small processing plants, chemical storage units, and water hubs owned by Hallow began to erupt across the district. The government didn't know where to look. They sent the heavy riot squads into the slums to keep the peace, leaving the main Hallow Headquarters with a skeleton crew of guards who thought they were safe.
In the middle of the afternoon, a sea of people dressed in all black marched down the main boulevard. At the front was Drew, his expression stone-cold and his eyes locked on the glass towers ahead. To the elites watching from their high balconies, it didn't look like a riot. It looked like a Reckoning. For decades, they had feasted on the broken bodies of Antafa. But as the black tide reached the gates, the elites realized the truth. The bill had finally come due, and it was going to be paid in blood.
The gate served as a reminder to Drew that the divide between the Elites and the working class was vast and wide. To the elites, the Antafa district was just trash meant to be used and burned. Drew ordered his men to place explosives on the walls and blow them up. Hallow HQ never imagined the peasants would rebel, considering them ants that would serve their purpose and be thrown aside. As the walls crumbled, a guard put his hands in the air and begged for his life, hoping to reason with Drew's humanity. Drew asked one question. "Did they do the same? The ones who suffered in your labs, did they get to beg for their lives?" Drew pointed his gun and pulled the trigger. The guard was working for the same people taking advantage of desperation, and he was only sorry once he had to face the consequences of his choice.
Once Drew walked into the HQ compound, he noticed something different. Outside of the HQ, the area felt dusty and smelled like rotten flesh from dead animals. But inside the compound, it was the opposite. There were fresh plants everywhere and a pond with fish, a foreign concept for Drew. It smelled like fresh jasmine the moment he walked inside. Growing up, Drew was fascinated by picture books he picked up in garbage dumps. He would see picturesque images and wonder if such a world really existed. He looked inside the pond. The water was so clean he felt like the fish were floating in air above colorful pebbles. He saw his own face in the water. He looked dirty, his hair dry, with a scrubby beard. Despite being in his early twenties, he looked like a man who had lived a hundred years of pain and suffering.
For a few minutes, Drew chose to enjoy himself as if it was his last day on earth. He felt like he had died and come to heaven. To enjoy such simple things was a luxury he never knew existed. He had a sad realization. If he had taken that corporate offer instead of staying in the slums, he could've lived this life every day. But as he stared into his reflection, he smiled. He was starting to accept his choices and who he was. He was Drew Andre, the man who fought when others didn't. At that very moment, he felt like he had no regrets. He was finally happy.
In front of him laid a door, a crystal clear glass door. It felt like the entryway to an alternative universe, far more different than their regular lives. He slowly made his way towards the entrance, the door opened, and a cold, chilled breeze passed through his body. He covered his eyes and walked inside. The air was perfectly climate-controlled. The crisp temperature felt like a slap against his skin. In the center of the lobby stood a mahogany table covered in silver platters of fresh fruit—grapes that looked like jewels and oranges with skins that hadn't seen a speck of dust—and crystal carafes filled with water so clear it sparkled under the lighting.
The receptionist looked up with a practiced, corporate smile. She started to welcome him to Hallow, but the sentence died in her throat. The guest wasn't a suit from the capital. He was a twenty-year-old ghost with a scrubby beard. His clothes were caked in the gray filth of the slums. Behind him stood a silent army. Drew smelled the fresh jasmine again, but there was something else. He followed a strange scent and found a table full of colorful objects he had only seen in picture books. He reached out and delicately grabbed a bunch of green grapes.
He held the grapes in his palm and felt the cool skin. It felt alien and too perfect. When he bit into one, the explosion of flavor was almost overwhelming for his senses. It was a reminder of everything nature intended to give, but which had been locked away in these vaults for the rich. Behind him, the silence of the Gambit broke. They were disciplined soldiers, but they were also starving people. One man with chemical-fire scars reached for an orange. He didn't peel it; he tore into it with his fingernails like a wild animal. As the citrus scent hit the air, a single tear cut through the soot on his cheek. He ate in desperate bites, the juice staining his black gear. To him, this wasn't just food. It was a miracle.
A woman who had lost her husband to fever grabbed a carafe. She tilted her head back and let the water pour into her mouth. The sound of her gulping was a raw noise, like a desert finally receiving rain after a century. The receptionist watched them with deepening horror. She didn't see people enjoying a meal. She saw animals defiling her sanctuary. She had been trained to view Antafa as a statistic in a report. Seeing them breathe her air felt like a physical assault on her dignity.
Drew watched his people. He saw their shoulders slump as they tasted luxury for the first time. For a moment, the rage in the room was replaced by a hollow, deep sadness. This was the peace they were fighting for, and it was sitting on a table being guarded by a woman in a silk blouse. "Don't get used to the taste," Drew said. His voice cut through the sounds of eating. He dropped the remains of the grapes onto the marble floor. "The person who grew these probably died in a field so she could have a centerpiece for her desk."
He turned to the receptionist. His shadow fell over her as she reached for an alarm button. He didn't raise his weapon. He simply leaned over her desk. His presence overpowered the scent of jasmine with the smell of smoke and rot. "It bothers you," Drew said in a low hum. "The mess bothers you." He picked up a stray grape and crushed it between his thumb and finger. The juice splattered across her digital tablet, blurring her spreadsheet of profits. He told her she was worried about the marble and the silver, but she never worried about the blood that paid for them. He told her she never screamed when the unfit were dragged into the basement to make sure her air stayed at seventy-two degrees. "The animals are in the house now," he said. "And we're very, very hungry."
The receptionist's fear turned into elitist defiance. She looked at the stain on her tablet and told him that they weren't equals. She said the people taken downstairs were always meant to be beneath them. She called them the floor they walked on. Drew didn't flinch. He repeated her words softly to himself. They tasted like ash in his mouth. He stood up and turned his back on her as if she no longer existed. If people like Shawn were the floor, then Drew would simply remove the floor entirely.
He walked toward the elevators. To send a message to those who lived in the clouds, he would have to destroy it all. Hallow had been an immovable god for decades, but Drew knew that everything has a weak point. He was looking for the heart of the building. He would find it, plant the debt within it, and watch the hierarchy crumble into the dust. Drew stood before the elevator bank and imagined himself as an elite. He wondered how he would have acted in their shoes. He looked at his second-in-command and handed him the floor plan and the explosives. He ordered the team to the basement to rig the foundation and make sure the children walked out before the timer hit zero. "And you?" the man asked. "I'm going to find the reason we started this," Drew replied.
The doors hissed shut. As the team descended to the industrial gut of the building, Drew was propelled upward toward the Medical Research Center. In the elevator, slow jazz music started playing. It was calming and artificial. Drew started smiling and dancing to the music. He moved his hands and imagined he was an elite conversing with coworkers. He imagined ordering juniors around just because he could. Growing up alone had taught him how to cope with loneliness by making up scenarios in his head.
The elevator chimed at the Medical Research Center and the fantasy shattered. Drew stopped dancing. His face hardened into the mask of the Executioner as the doors opened. He stepped into a palace of white light and silence. The halls were empty because the elites had already fled. He moved through the sterile corridors until he reached the Primary Lab. He peeked inside, hoping to find something new. Instead, he saw Shawn. The boy with the ambitious eyes was tied to a bed with black tubes coming out of his body. His head was attached to a helmet next to a heart rate monitor. Drew stood frozen. He saw a vision of a younger Shawn standing in front of him, telling Drew how much he enjoyed their time together. The vision told Drew he wanted him to be happy at last.
Drew was fuming with anger and hollowness. It was a reminder that everyone he loved eventually left him. He was lonely again. He clenched his fists and broke the glass with all his force. His hands were bloody as he leaped inside the lab. He made his way toward Shawn in disbelief. He scanned the room and saw another patient. Drew delicately pulled the tubes out and monitored the heartbeat. The boy was alive, but when Drew removed the helmet, the monitor went still. He realized that anyone tied to these machines would never make it out alive. The technology was too foreign. He could never help them. There were no juniors or coworkers here to assist him. He was alone. Still, he had to take the risk. He wasn't going to let Shawn suffer in this hellhole any longer. He removed the tubes and grabbed Shawn's body. He whispered that he hoped Shawn could find true happiness. He wished they had met under better circumstances. "I wish you all the best, old friend," Drew said as tears fell. He wasn't just sad that Shawn was dead. He was sad because he couldn't talk to him one last time to show him the world they had imagined together.
Drew stood in the silence of the lab. The only sound was the continuous tone of the monitor. He looked down at Shawn. The boy's face was finally at peace. Drew turned off the remaining monitors to give the other bodies back their silence. He gathered Shawn into his arms. The boy felt lighter than scavenged plastic. Drew took the service stairs, his boots heavy as he climbed toward the roof. Every step was a struggle. His heart felt like lead.
He kicked open the steel door to the roof. The world vanished into the glare of searchlights from hovering helicopters. Drew didn't flinch. He kept walking toward the edge. His boots dragged against the white concrete. He moved with a staggering pace, knowing this was the final mile. Suddenly, a hollow sensation bloomed in his chest. It wasn't pain. It was too cold for that. His heartbeat became a frantic drumming. He tilted his head down and saw the gap across his chest. The dark stain of a bullet wound was spreading and stealing his heat. He should have fallen, but his will kept him upright. He had a promise to keep. He wanted to give Shawn a grand finale.
He reached the edge of the helipad and sank down. The movement was a gradual collapse. The wind up here didn't smell like rot or chemicals. It was the thin, filtered air of the elite. Drew let his head fall back. His breath came in ragged hitches. In his arms, Shawn was still. The boy's face was a mask of porcelain peace. With a trembling hand, Drew smoothed Shawn's hair. He looked into the lens of a security drone. He knew the whole country was watching.
"They told you we were garbage," Drew whispered into the microphones. His voice was a dry rasp. "They told you we were the dirt under their fingernails. But look at this boy. Look at what they did to a genius just because he was born in the dark." Tactical units swarmed below like ants. They were telling him to surrender. Drew let out a bloody laugh. The elite persona was gone. The jazz music was gone. Only the scavenger remained. "I grew up in the trash," he said with terrifying clarity. "I spent my life fighting just to exist. And if I was born a thousand more times, I would choose to be exactly who I am. Every single time. Because I am the only thing you can't buy."
His hand curled around the detonator in his pocket. He could feel the miles of wire and the tons of explosives rigged into the building. They were waiting to scream. "Shawn," he whispered into the boy's ear. "It's time to go home. I'm giving you the sun."
The soldiers lunged forward. Drew didn't blink. He threw his head back and let out a roar from the bottom of the Antafa soil. It was a cry for every person the world had turned its back on.
"YABABAK!"
He pressed the button.
For a split second, there was a perfect silence. Then a blinding white light swallowed the towers and the soldiers. The Hallow Headquarters transformed into a pillar of fire that reached for the stars. Miles away in the slums, the people stepped out of their shacks. They looked up and saw the brown sky finally turn bright. For the first time in history, the forgotten had a funeral that the entire world could see.
The light of Drew's sun eventually faded, leaving behind a sky that was darker and heavier than it had ever been. My eyes snapped open, and for a heartbeat, I didn't know where I was. I was gasping for air, my lungs burning as if I had been the one standing on top of the Hallow HQ. My hands were shaking so violently that I could barely control them. I immediately started touching my chest, my arms, and my face, frantically pressing my fingers into my skin to make sure I was still there. I needed to feel the heat of my own blood and the solidness of my bones. I needed to know that I wasn't just another ghost in the Antafa dirt.
I realized I was in Drew's old place. It was a small, cramped room that still smelled faintly of old books and the metallic scent of scavenged parts. Being here felt like a weight on my soul. The silence was so loud it made my ears ring. I looked around at the shadows, half-expecting to see Drew sitting in the corner, holding a picture book and telling me about the world he wanted to build. But there was nothing. Just the cold reality that he was gone, and I was the one left to remember him.
The exhaustion hit me like a physical blow. It was a bone-deep tiredness that made my limbs feel like lead. I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. I let myself fall back onto the thin mattress, the darkness of the room swallowing me whole. As I drifted off, the world of Antafa vanished.
As sleep pulled me under, I felt a weird sensation, as if I were falling into an endless void, slowly but steadily waiting for my demise. Eventually, the sensation changed. I felt my feet connect with something solid, as if I had finally reached a surface. Was I dreaming again? Was this another nightmare? At this point, I was tired of everything. I was too drained to care what was real and what was a trick of my mind. Then, I heard them. Whispers. Multiple voices, overlapping and soft, calling out to me from the dark.
"Agna..."
I forced my eyes open. I wasn't in the room anymore. I was standing in the middle of a road choked with thick, swirling fog. For a brief second, I saw a flicker of light in the distance, but it vanished before I could even blink. I tried to move, but I was frozen in place, as if the world itself were forcing me to stay still. Clueless and paralyzed, I strained my eyes, searching the mist for a way out.
That's when I saw it.
Tall, white, and ominous. A figure was standing in the distance, perfectly still, staring back at me through the fog.
End of Chapter...