Ch.56: The Dark Night

We stayed under the bridge for hours. I didn't sleep. I watched the rain and I watched Julian's chest rise and fall.

His fever broke just before dawn. He opened his eyes, clear and focused.

"You saved me," he whispered.

"I told you," I said, my voice raspy. "I'm not letting you die."

I checked my phone. It had a weak signal.

I opened the news feed.

My heart stopped.

**TERROR AT THE POWER STATION**

The headline screamed in bold red letters.

**JULIAN VANE AND HARPER VANCE IMPLICATED IN DOMESTIC TERROR ATTACK. 12 GUARDS DEAD. FACILITY DESTROYED.**

Sterling hadn't just spun the narrative. He had rewritten reality.

"Look at this," I said, showing Julian the screen.

There was a video. Footage from the drone *before* it was shot down. But it was edited. Doctored.

It showed Julian firing the riot gun. But the guards weren't raising their hands. They were unarmed, running away. It showed me standing over Sterling, but the audio was replaced with me screaming, "Burn it all down!"

And then, the explosion. The footage made it look like *we* had detonated the charges.

"They're calling us the Bonnie and Clyde of the Obsidian Circuit," I said, scrolling through the comments.

**#EXECUTE THEM**
**#NOMERCY**
**#MONSTERS**

The P-Stock ticker was gone. Replaced by a bounty counter.

**REWARD FOR CAPTURE: 50,000,000 CREDITS.**

"Fifty million," Julian said softly. "I'm worth less than I used to be."

"It's not a joke, Julian. Every bounty hunter, every mercenary, every desperate citizen in this city is looking for us right now."

I looked at the APC. It was a tank, yes. But it was also a target. A big, black beacon.

"We can't move," I said. "If we go out there, we're dead."

"We can't stay here," Julian countered. "Miller's safe house is compromised. If Sterling controls the narrative, he controls the feds. Even Miller can't protect us now."

He sat up, wincing as the stitches pulled.

"We have to go to the only place Sterling can't touch us."

"Where is that? The moon?"

"The Undercity," Julian said. "The old sewers. The parts of the grid that aren't on the map."

"That's where the Rats live," I said. "The outcasts. They hate you, Julian. They hate everything you stand for."

"They hate Sterling more," he said.

He reached for the tablet Silas had left in the APC.

"I can buy our way in. Not with money. With power."

"The grid is unstable," I said. "Sterling's reset code is still running."

"Exactly," Julian said. "The Undercity runs on stolen power. If the main grid goes down, they go dark first. But if I can patch them into the emergency geothermal lines..."

"You become their savior," I finished.

"I become their landlord," he corrected. "It's a transaction. Power for protection."

He started typing.

I watched him. Even now, bleeding and hunted, he was making deals. He was playing the game.

But was it enough?

I looked out at the city skyline. It was dark, ominous. The lights that usually burned all night were flickering.

Sterling was winning. He had the power. He had the media. He had the law.

We had a stolen truck and a half-dead billionaire.

"It's done," Julian said, closing the tablet. "I've routed the geothermal overflow to the Undercity grid. The lights should be coming on down there any minute."

"And the price?"

"Sanctuary. No questions asked."

We drove the APC deep into the rail yards, to a maintenance tunnel that led down into the old sewer system.

It was a different world down there. Makeshift shanties built from scrap metal. Bioluminescent fungi growing on the walls. And people. Thousands of them.

They watched us as we drove through. Silent. Wary.

We stopped in a central plaza. A man stepped out of the shadows. He was covered in tattoos, his eyes milky white.

"The King of the Rats," Julian whispered.

The man walked up to the truck. He tapped on the window.

I rolled it down.

"You brought the light," the man rasped.

"I paid the toll," Julian said.

"The surface wants your head," the man said. "Fifty million is a lot of credits."

"You can't spend credits in the dark," Julian said. "But you can use power."

The man smiled. It was a terrifying sight.

"Welcome to Hell, Mr. Vane."

He waved his hand. The crowd parted.

We drove deeper.

We were safe. For now. But as I looked back at the tunnel entrance, at the slice of gray sky visible far above, I felt a crushing sense of isolation.

We were buried alive. And the whole world wanted us dead.