Chapter 4: First Strike

The first strike wasn't subtle.

It was loud.

It was messy.

And it came in daylight.

I was grabbing a sandwich from a food cart near Riverside Station, trying to feel normal. Pretending I didn't have power crackling under my skin or notes sliding through my window.

The line was long, the guy behind the cart had grease on his face, and my stomach wouldn't stop growling.

Then the sky cracked open.

Boom.

A sonic pulse hit the block like a bomb, sending windows rattling and birds fleeing from rooftops. People dropped to the ground, covering their heads.

Me?

I froze.

Because I knew what was coming.

A League strike team.

They dropped from the air in perfect formation—four of them, gold-trimmed armor gleaming in the sun. Their boots hit the ground with mechanical thuds. Their helmets snapped open in sync.

And all eyes turned to me.

The food cart guy dove behind his truck. Civilians scattered. I didn't move.

One of the enforcers stepped forward.

She was tall, armored head to toe, blonde braid tucked behind her shoulder, eyes cold.

Agent Delryn.

I recognized her from League footage. She specialized in powered apprehensions. Always clean. Always public.

She looked straight at me.

"Powered individual," she said. "You've been identified as an unregistered anomaly. You are hereby ordered to surrender for evaluation and containment."

Containment.

That word hit harder than the sonic pulse.

I took a step back.

My fingers itched.

The power inside me stirred.

Delryn raised her hand.

"Don't make this worse."

My heart pounded.

I looked around. People were filming. From behind cars, rooftops, balconies.

It was a message.

Not just to me.

To everyone.

This was what happened when you didn't fall in line.

"I didn't attack anyone," I said.

"Refusal to register is a threat to public order," she replied.

"I saved a kid during your last screw-up."

"That doesn't change your status."

I clenched my fists.

Light sparked at my knuckles.

One of the other agents raised his weapon.

Delryn didn't blink.

"You're unstable," she said. "That's not your fault. But you need control. And we're the only ones who can give it to you."

Another step forward.

I took another back.

"You're going to force me."

Delryn's voice didn't change.

"If you don't surrender now, we'll bring you in another way."

Then I saw her.

On the rooftop above.

Same long coat. Same hood. Watching.

The person who left the notes.

She raised a hand. Just once.

Then disappeared again.

And I understood.

Run.

I turned and sprinted.

The power surged through me.

Stronger than before.

The wind bent around my body. My feet barely touched the pavement. I didn't think. Didn't aim. I just moved.

A stun blast missed me by inches.

I veered left, shot down a narrow side street, and vaulted a fence without touching it.

Boots thundered behind me.

Then came the drone.

Sleek. Silent. Fast.

I ducked under a bridge, sliding across the pavement as it lit up the alley with search beams.

I could feel the agents closing in.

They weren't trying to kill me.

Not yet.

But they weren't playing nice either.

I hit the wall near 4th and Lexington.

Literally.

Crashed into the side of a crumbling apartment block.

Groaned. Rolled over.

Got up.

Then turned and lifted my hand.

The first agent rounded the corner.

I fired.

A burst of light tore from my palm and blasted the sidewalk apart. He flew backward into a dumpster, armor smoking.

I gasped.

Not from effort.

From fear.

Because I didn't know I could do that.

Delryn was next.

She didn't hesitate.

She lunged.

I raised both hands, crossing them.

The energy flared.

She slammed into an invisible barrier.

Cracks split the concrete where her boots hit.

She stumbled back, blinking.

"You're learning," she muttered.

But it wasn't praise.

It was calculation.

She hit a switch on her wrist.

A sonic net burst open mid-air and wrapped around me.

I screamed.

It was like a thousand needles jabbing through my skull. My knees buckled. My powers flickered.

I hit the ground hard.

Delryn walked toward me, boots clicking.

"You don't get it yet," she said. "But you will."

Then everything went white.

A blast hit the alley from the side.

Not mine.

Hers.

The one in the hood.

She dropped from the sky like a shadow with wings, slamming into Delryn and sending her skidding down the street.

"Move!" she barked at me.

I didn't argue.

We ran.

Three turns later, we ducked into a subway maintenance hatch and disappeared underground.

Silence returned.

Sort of.

My ears still rang.

My chest still burned.

But we were alive.

Barely.

We sat on an old metal platform.

Rust and old paint peeling everywhere.

She pulled back her hood.

She was young.

Not much older than me.

Dark eyes. Short hair. Scars on both arms.

"You okay?" she asked.

I nodded. "Thanks."

"You almost didn't make it."

"I wasn't going to fight them."

"You didn't need to. They were going to take you."

Her name was Echo.

No last name. No details.

Just that one word.

She wasn't with the Rogues.

Wasn't League either.

"Third option," she said.

"Independent?"

"Sort of."

She leaned back, looking up at the pipes above.

"They don't like people who stay in the middle. It threatens their whole system."

"So why help me?"

Echo looked at me carefully.

"Because you still haven't chosen. And you shouldn't have to choose their way."

I got home just before dawn.

Torn hoodie.

Bruised ribs.

Power crackling faintly under my skin.

But alive.

And changed.

Because today proved something the League had tried to keep quiet.

They didn't just want control.

They wanted fear.

They wanted people to see me running.

They wanted to make an example.

And they had.

But not the one they planned.

They showed the world what happens when you try to be free.

Now the world was watching.

And so was I.