chapter 4

Morning came to the city wrapped in a dreary, gray mist. The light rain from the night before had eased off, leaving everything a bit damp and the air heavy with a chill. News of Mayor Tyyanore's disappearance was buzzing everywhere, from packed coffee shops to crowded bus stops and sterile office hallways.

You could see it on the TV screens in subway stations and cafes, where news anchors appeared one after another. They looked polished but couldn't quite hide the nerves in their eyes while reading statements. An investigation was in full swing. All hands were on deck. The local government assured everyone that they were safe. Just empty words trying to calm the rising fear in the community.

But underneath all this, another story was brewing. People were talking about a "ghost" taking down corrupt officials, about a shadowy figure in a black-and-gold mask that showed up and vanished without a trace. Some rolled their eyes at it, while others saw it as a spark of hope in a world that had seemingly forgotten about justice. Fear mixed with an odd curiosity.

Amid the chatter, new info hit the news: the formation of a Special Guardian Investigation Unit. Short clips showed four people in crisp white uniforms stepping out of a government building with military precision. They had flat expressions and fixed stares. They were marketed as an elite crew made of top analysts and field experts assigned to solve the case of the missing officials. No one mentioned the brainwashing and extreme enhancements they had gone through. To the public, they were heroes. To the ones who knew better, they were a grave sign of things to come.

In the shadows of the city, inside Ghost's underground hideout, the smell of fresh coffee mingled with the faint scent of machinery. The place was a mix of a high-tech lab and a makeshift bunker. Thick cables ran down from the ceiling, connecting to blinking servers. A wall full of monitors showed everything from data streams to city maps and feeds from hidden cameras they had hacked into.

In the midst of it all was Ghost—really just Elara, a name he hadn't used in ages. At 23, he had a look that made him seem older. His usually tidy black hair was messy from sleepless nights. He sipped black coffee, eyes glued to one screen with the profiles of the Guardians. They had taken bright minds and turned them into tools for the system that ran them down. A strange mix of pity and anger washed over him as he looked at their data. He understood what it felt like to have your potential stifled, and the fate of these Guardians felt even worse than death.

More coffee, boss? Layla's cheerful voice broke his thoughts. She strolled in from a small workshop corner, her hands a bit greasy. Dressed in a tank top and cargo pants with her hair tied back, she had a steaming coffee pot in hand.

Elara nodded, still focused on the screen. Thanks, Layla.

She poured coffee into his mug before pouring her own, sneaking a glance at the screen. So that's them? The State's elite guard dogs. She smirked. They look like a gloomy boyband.

Elara managed a slight smile. Don't underestimate them because of their uniforms. Each one was brilliant in their own field, and now that smarts is all about tracking down and taking out threats. And with those enhancements, they're pretty dangerous.

I get it, Layla said, sipping her coffee. But they're just programs. We're different. That's where we have the edge. She perched on the edge of another cluttered workbench. So, is the video ready to go?

Labour's got it prepped, Elara replied. Timer's set for six AM tomorrow. Right when the city wakes up, just before the State's spin kicks in.

Perfect timing, Layla said with a grin. Hit them at breakfast. Make their coffee taste a tad bitter. She watched Elara closely. You seem more tense than usual, boss.

Elara turned to her. It's not just about the video, Layla. It's what happens next. Dropping this evidence is like tossing a stone into a beehive. We're not just calling out the mayor; we're shaking the foundation of the system that backs him. They won't just sit back. Those Guardians… they're just the beginning.

We knew that when we started, Layla said, her voice steady. We knew the risks. Every operation, every stolen piece of info, every official we've made disappear—this is just another step.

Elara nodded slowly. True, but this time feels different. They know we exist now. They'll come at us hard.

And we'll be ready, Layla shot back confidently. Labour's tightening our firewalls. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve for the city network if they get too nosy. And you... she pointed at Elara, ...have a brain that could outthink all four of those guardians any day, even without any enhancements.

Layla's unshakeable confidence was one reason Elara had chosen her as his partner. She seemed casual, but had a sharp focus and amazing skills.

Double-check the security protocols for the upload tomorrow, Elara said, shifting back to work mode. We can't leave any openings for them to track us.

Already on it, boss, she replied, a smile on her face. But for your peace of mind, I'll do another check. She moved back to her console, fingers flying over the keyboard.

Elara turned back to the Guardians' profiles. They were a threat, no doubt. But Layla was right; they were just tools. They followed orders and couldn't think on their feet. They didn't have the kind of anger he had. Anger at a world that crushed free thought, which he channeled into the steady focus behind the Ghost mask.

Meanwhile, in the mayor's office at a shiny skyscraper downtown, the Guardian Unit was hard at work. Though the room was cordoned off with yellow police tape, the four figures moved past it like it was nothing.

They weren't scattered like a human investigation team. They worked as one unit. Guardian Alpha, who had been a military strategist, scanned the room's layout with a speed that seemed superhuman. His enhancements connected him to the building's security network, analyzing everything in seconds.

No footage from this corridor after 9:03 last night, said Guardian Beta, a former neuroscientist. Her voice was flat through the unit's internal channel. The feed was cut for a significant time. Someone bypassed it at a technical level.

Guardian Gamma, who specialized in quantum physics, hovered near the mayor's desk. His gloved hand detected tiny anomalies just above the surface. Found residue of a cleaning agent. Cleaned to a high standard.

Guardian Delta, a biotech expert, crouched near the private garage entrance and scanned the floor with lights invisible to the naked eye. Found a polymer fiber. It doesn't match anything in government records. He carefully retrieved the fiber with specialized tools and placed it in a container.

Initial analysis, Guardian Alpha summed up, linking their findings. The target was taken from here between 9:03 and 9:20. The perpetrator knew how to bypass advanced security and cleaned up any evidence very well. This fiber... matches some military tech reported missing years ago.

Silence fell again in the room. No chatter, just the cold processing of data. They didn't know who Ghost was yet, but they had found the first clue—a link between the vigilante and stolen military technology. The hunt had begun.

Night returned to the city, and in Ghost's hideout, only the glow of monitors broke the darkness. Elara and Layla worked side by side, finalizing security checks and keeping watch over the network. The Guardians were active at key spots—the mayor's office, his home, and government data centers. Just as Elara had expected, they were quick and efficient.

Six hours left, Layla murmured, eyes on a clock ticking down to 6:00.

Elara stood and moved to a one-way mirror, peering out at the dim view of the underground city—a mix of old service tunnels and forgotten infrastructure. After tomorrow morning, there's no turning back.

Did we ever want to turn back? Layla responded, still focused on her work. The world outside is broken. We're just trying to fix it... our way.

Elara gave a faint smile in the dark. Maybe Layla was right. They weren't heroes—they were shaped by this broken world, trying to find their own sense of justice in the mess. Tomorrow, the public would catch a glimpse of the truth, and then the real chaos would kick off. He took a deep breath as a chill of anticipation surged through him. The countdown ticked on, second by second, leading to a dawn that would change everything.