Chapter 15: The Spark We Chose

The chip didn't look like much.

Just a square of silver, no bigger than a thumbnail. No buttons. No lights. No marks except one word engraved on the back:

"Divide."

She handed it to me in the vault, right before we ran.

Didn't explain it.

Didn't say what was inside.

She just closed my fingers around it and whispered, "This is yours now."

Back at the safehouse, the mood was heavy.

Everyone knew we'd found something big.

The broadcast footage from Sector Zero had already gone dark—scrubbed, buried, silenced like it never happened.

But people remembered.

They saw the smoke.

They saw League transport ships scrambling.

They heard whispers about an "anomaly in the vault."

We were too late to save her.

But not too late to hear her.

Reese scanned the chip for traps.

Three layers of protection.

Encrypted in an old language no one used anymore.

"Precog code," he said. "The kind they teach to kids with vision spikes. That vault girl—she wrote this herself."

Delryn crossed her arms. "So how do we read it?"

"We don't," he said. "He does."

Everyone turned to me.

I raised a brow. "Why me?"

Reese shrugged. "It's coded to your voiceprint. She locked it to you."

Echo looked at me, silent.

Waiting.

I held the chip between my fingers.

Felt the hum.

Warm.

Alive.

Then I spoke.

Just one word:

"Open."

The chip lit up.

Projected a sphere of light in the center of the room.

Lines spun through the air.

Maps. Dates. Names.

All layered with static symbols and pulsing code.

Then a voice began to speak.

Her voice.

"If you're seeing this, it means you survived. That the timeline shifted far enough that you made it through Sector Zero without dying or turning back. It means the fracture widened. And now… you have a choice."

We leaned in.

No one breathed.

"The League was born to contain chaos. But in doing so, they fed it. Every forced registration, every erased life, every silenced name—it pushed the world closer to a split. They thought control was safety. They were wrong."

The lights shifted.

Images of riots. Of drones. Of Hollow strikes.

Of our faces.

"The Hollow rose from absence. From the gaps the League refused to acknowledge. They want to erase everything. Tear it down. Let the strong rebuild from ash. They think fire is freedom. They're wrong too."

I stepped closer to the projection.

My chest burned.

Because I knew what was coming.

"You are the third path. Not born from control or collapse—but from refusal. You weren't supposed to exist. But now you do. That makes you dangerous. To everyone."

Reese whispered, "She knew."

Delryn frowned. "She planned this."

Echo was still. Watching.

Listening.

"Soon, a city will burn. Not in fire, but in fear. The people will turn. On each other. On powers. On truth. And if no one stands in the space between, it will fall. All of it."

The image froze.

Then pulsed once.

A question flashed in the air.

Not a command.

Just four words:

"What will you build?"

The chip shut down.

Silence returned.

No one spoke for a full minute.

Then Echo turned to me.

"Well?"

"I don't know yet," I said honestly.

"I do," Delryn said. "They're going to force a war."

Reese pointed to the map still glowing faintly on his screen. "That city she mentioned? It's ours. Every marker lines up."

I swallowed hard.

The fracture point wasn't some far-off future.

It was now.

Here.

Us.

We gathered the council.

Twelve members.

Old allies.

New leaders.

Everyone with a reason to fight.

But not everyone agreed.

"This prophecy stuff is dangerous," said Nadia, a tactician from Cell Nine. "We follow it too closely; we stop thinking for ourselves."

"But if it's true—" Reese started.

"If. If. What if she saw what she wanted to see?" Nadia snapped. "What if she wanted to shape us into something else?"

Delryn stood. "Doesn't matter. The League already blames us for Sector Zero. The Hollow's next strike will be worse. And the city's already cracking."

"She's right," Echo said quietly. "Whether we like it or not, the moment's here."

They looked to me.

Again.

I wanted to disappear into the floor.

But I didn't.

I stood.

Steady.

Alive.

"You're all right," I said. "This prophecy doesn't mean we're heroes. Doesn't mean we're chosen. But it does mean something."

I walked to the center of the table.

Held up the chip.

"This didn't tell us what to do. It asked a question. And now I'm asking you the same."

I looked at each face.

One by one.

"What will we build?"

The vote wasn't perfect.

Two walked away.

They didn't betray us.

They just couldn't carry what was coming.

And that was okay.

The rest?

They stayed.

Because they believed.

Not in the chip.

Not in the vault, girl.

But in each other.

And that was enough.

The next day, we sent a new message.

Not a threat.

Not a warning.

Just a call.

A choice.

To the city.

To the League.

To the Rogues.

Even the Hollow.

"We're not here to control. We're not here to burn. We're here to stand. If you're ready to fight for something better, then meet us in the heart of the city. Midnight. No masks. No drones. No flags. Just people."

It was a risk.

A trap waiting to happen.

But it was ours.

The spark we chose.