Julius_Nicho

In a future ruled by surveillance and silence, one man’s fight for his daughter ignites a revolution.

Kirion, a war-scarred medic turned resistance strategist, has spent years battling a regime that turned truth into a weapon. When his daughter—Amaya, a gifted hacker—is captured and twisted into a tool of control, Kirion must risk everything to bring her back.

But saving her is only the beginning.

As the uprising spreads and the regime falls, Kirion and his allies must face a harder battle: rebuilding a broken world with justice, not vengeance. Through war, healing, and legacy, Young, Wired, and Raising Little Ones tells the story of a father, a daughter, and a nation learning not just how to survive—but how to lead, love, and raise the next generation in peace.

Young, Wired and Raising Little Ones

The wind was sharp in the hills above Sector 9, slicing through Kirion's coat as he stood at the ridge overlooking what remained of an old government outpost. His breath misted before him, his restored eyes scanning the landscape, calculating. It was quiet here—but not in his mind.

He hadn't told the others about the dream. Not the latest one. In it, his daughter called out to him—not as the skilled hacker and warrior she had become, but as a small, scared girl. She stood in a hallway filled with flickering lights, hands pressed to glass, crying for him. Her voice echoed long after he awoke.

"Kirion." Kael's voice broke through his trance. She approached with careful steps, her boots crunching dried grass. "We're ready."

They were here to investigate the outpost not for weapons or supplies—but for what it represented. Years ago, this facility had been the site of government-run psychological experiments. Rumors said it was where they broke the will of political prisoners—mind erasure, conditioning, synthetic memory implantation.

The team believed it had been shut down. Kirion wasn't so sure.

Inside, the building smelled like rust and rot. The walls were papered in peeling paint, the air stagnant. Kael swept corners with her rifle, her motions automatic. Zae moved silently behind her, eyes darting between shadows. Kirion, unarmed, carried only a scanner and a pocket of coded symbols drawn by his daughter.

The further they moved in, the darker it grew. Light refused to settle in these halls—as if the place itself rejected clarity.

"This place is dead," Zae muttered.

"Not quite," Kirion said. He stopped before a sealed door with a faded sign: Subject Containment. It creaked open with a reluctant groan, revealing a room filled with shattered screens and blackened walls.

"Kael, look," Kirion said, pointing to a symbol scrawled in chalk on the floor. It was a cipher his daughter had invented when she was ten. Only he and she knew it.

Zae moved in quickly, sweeping the room with a scanner. "No heat signatures. No surveillance. But something was transmitting here—within the last forty-eight hours."

Kirion stepped to the wall and pressed his fingers against the stone. It was warm.

"You're not afraid of ghosts, are you?" Kael asked, half-joking.

Kirion met her gaze. "I'm afraid of forgetting who we're doing this for."

She didn't respond. She didn't need to.

That night, they camped on the ridge. Around the fire, Kirion sat in silence while the others debriefed. His mind wasn't on the mission. It was on his daughter—what she might have seen in that place. What they might have done to her, even temporarily.

Fear, he realized, wasn't the enemy. Avoiding it was. He couldn't afford to bury it under strategy and strength anymore. He needed to face it—name it—so he could survive it.

When the fire dimmed, he opened his notebook and wrote one word: Hope.

Then beneath it: Whatever they did to her… they will answer for it.

Chapter 78: Facing Fears