Echoes of the System

The crowd moved like clockwork—precise, unthinking, obedient. Ember moved with them, her steps mechanical, her face carved from stone. But inside, her mind screamed.

Don't run. Don't look back. Just walk.

She could feel him—the Enforcer—his footsteps slicing through the crowd, steady and deliberate. Not fast. He didn't need to be. Fear was the real leash here, and he knew it.

Ember's pulse hammered against her ribs, each beat a countdown. She slipped between bodies, her breath shallow, fighting the urge to sprint. Running would confirm his suspicion. But staying would kill her.

The crowd thinned near the transit terminal, where the sterile white walls seemed to pulse with silent surveillance. Cameras watched from every corner, their unblinking eyes recording everything. Ember kept her gaze low, slipping past the biometric scanners with the others. She'd faked this calm her whole life. Just one more time.

Almost there.

A hand clamped around her wrist like iron.

Her breath hitched.

The Enforcer stood beside her, his grip firm but not rough. His face was as empty as the rest—no anger, no curiosity. Just a mask made of flesh.

"You twitched," he said flatly.

His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but it cut deeper than a shout. Around them, people flowed past without a glance. No one stopped. No one cared. This wasn't unusual. This was routine.

Ember forced a blank stare, her heart racing. "Muscle spasm."

He tilted his head slightly, studying her. His grip didn't loosen. "Muscle spasms don't come with dilated pupils and increased heart rate."

Damn it.

She yanked her arm, sudden and sharp, catching him off guard. The move wasn't graceful—more instinct than skill—but it worked. His hold slipped for a fraction of a second, just enough for her to break free.

Then she ran.

No more pretending.

The crowd scattered as she shoved through, her footsteps echoing like gunshots in the hollow terminal. Behind her, alarms blared—sharp, mechanical wails designed to freeze people in place. But Ember didn't stop. She couldn't.

Run. Run. Run.

She dodged through narrow alleys, past gray buildings that all looked the same. The city was a maze of steel and concrete, designed to trap. But she knew these streets. She'd studied them, memorized every exit, every blind spot.

But they knew them too.

Footsteps thundered behind her—more Enforcers now, their heavy boots pounding like war drums. She didn't look back. Looking back meant slowing down.

Her chest burned, her legs screaming with every stride. She turned sharply into a side street, vaulted over a low barrier, and crashed into a shadow.

Hands grabbed her again—but not rough this time. A figure pulled her into the darkness, covering her mouth before she could scream.

"Shh," a voice hissed near her ear. Not an Enforcer. Someone else.

Her heart slammed in her chest as the footsteps rushed past, fading into the distance. She didn't move. Didn't breathe.

When the silence returned, the stranger released her.

She spun around, ready to fight, but froze.

The person before her wasn't like the others.

He had emotion in his eyes.

Real emotion.