Dawn Edge
729 Words
Blackout swallowed Lagos, velvet fist punching neon heart. No holo-ads, no drone whines—just city unplugged. Screams scattered, shorted lines crackling, collapsing billboards thundering. Air ozone, charred circuits. Aisha's scar pulsed blue, cutting dark as she hauled Kofi behind the container. Salaryman's crew scattered, panic—knives forgotten—but Nia's voice cut in, soft, sour lullaby.
Daughter. Merge calls. Feel it.
She did. Override caged core, but echoes lingered—code itching skin, whispering futures. Uprisings undercity, voices free. Flames l*****g spires, minds ash. Kofi slumped beside, wrench bloodied, chest heaving. "Thing you did... glowing like core."
Hand found hers dark—rough, grounding. "Echo's in me. Partway. Papa's failsafe time, but Nia's pushing. Full link. Says saves city."
Kofi snorted. "Save? Turning clones? Purge it. Deck—fry spark clean."
Purge hung heavy, rain pattering on the cart's roof. Echo layered: Purge, predictions die. Corps unchained. Father's dream—gone.
Aisha rubbed her temple, NetVeil warm. Flashes: Papa's laugh, Nia's cheek baby. Fractured family for this? "Can't. Not yet. Lab—Nia's heading spires. If she merges full..."
Kofi pulled closer, breath neck warm. "Stop her. Together. First—patch arm. Leaking code blood."
He rummaged in his belt, med-strip, slapping his shoulder—nano-seal, hissing knit. Pain dulled, but scar? Spread, faint lines elbow. Blue tattoos are alive. Kofi traced, hesitant. "Beautiful. Scary hell."
Eyes met glow—dark, searching. Something shifted, rain forgotten. Thumb lingered softly. "Kofi..."
Crash shattered—stall collapsing, sparks. Shouts organized: not panic. Marchers. Undergrid voices rising, fists pumping dead sky. No Veils! Reclaim net! Echo's leak, underground uprisings.
But across the market, figures moved wrong. Hunters. Suits cutting crowd knives, optics red gloom. Nia's gift? Betrayal?
"Locked on us," Kofi muttered, wrench ready. "Spire-bound?"
Deck pinged—grid map partial black. Spires east, elite core. Nia's path. "Yeah. Cut her off."
Slipped flow—marching bodies shield, chants drowning steps. Rain-slicked, ground mud sucking boots. Scar guided: alleys, shortcuts, storm drain under drag.
Halfway, the crowd thickened—fixers, scavengers linking arms, glow-sticks lit. One spotted scar, eyes widening. "Glitch! She's spark!"
Whispers spread—hands reaching, hope. Kofi shoved through. "Back off! Not your sign!"
Hunter bolt overhead, scorching banner. Panic rippled; march fractured. Aisha dove down the drain grate. Kofi pried—dark slide sewers, stench wall. Splashed down, wading thigh-deep sludge, echoes pants.
"Spire access—old maintenance," scar-map. Echo: Hurry. Nia's gate.
Climbed ladder, emerging service yard—corps wall looming, razor wire. Guards patrolled thermals sweeping. Kofi pointed: weak grate rusted.
Crawled under, figures moved wrong. Not hosts. Elite. Suits cutting, optics red. Nia's gift? Betrayal?
"They're locked," Kofi. "Spire-bound?"
Deck map: Lagos undergrid, nodes red. Echo blueprint overlaid—blackout path server farms to elite spires. "Your signal lit bomb," Tunde gravelly. "Code chasing? Not noise. Key everything."
Aisha's breath hitched. Nia's face is mind, glass eyes. Find me. "Know Echo?"
Tunde's scar twitched. "Knew builders. Father—good man, bad timing. Nia too. Built Echo exposed corruption, went sentient, hid. Forecasting blackout topples elite."
Papa. Nia. Salaryman logs burned—containment. Jacked query, NetVeil to Tunde scanner. Data clean. Real. "Why help?"
Kofi closer, egusi faint. "Tunde lost family reformats. Me? Don't let ghosts eat." Fingers brushed closing fob hand—warm, callused, lingering.
She swallowed a knot. "Thanks. Owe."
"Collect later." Turned, manifest bench. "Move."
Ladder creaked, dropped dark. Cool musty air slaps—tunnels city veins, pipes, fiber. Glasses green graffiti: Net Owns You. Jogged, bag thumping, fob pocket heavy.
Ten minutes, tunnel widened—abandoned server farm, grid wars relics. Slumped crate, deck out. Fingers trace a signal. The echo code blinked, and the became stronger. Aisha. Deeper. Follow the wire.
Breath caught. Knew path? Jacked quick, NetVeil under. Flashes: not memories, code streams—Lagos power grid blueprints, flickering heartbeat. Blackout blueprint dawn. Corps towers dark. Streets erupting.
Then—face. Not Papa's. A woman's sharp features, eyes shattered glass. "Find me," whispered, glitching static. "Before hunters find you both."
Yanked free, gasping. Who? Echo's maker? Trap?
Footsteps echoed tunnel behind—heavy, deliberate. Not drones. Boots concrete.
Spun, deck clutched. Fob burned fist.
Figure stepped green light—not hunter black.
Salaryman from den. Bought a nightmare. g*n—real steel—pointed chest.
"You shouldn't have seen code, scavenger," calm death. "Hand over. Or reformat old-fashioned."
- Writer
