Chapter 7: Fire Beneath the Throne
Kings don't fall when you cut off their heads.They fall when the people stop pretending they belong on the throne.
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Lancaster Central Precinct – Internal Command Division – 10:21 AM
Commissioner Thorne Wexley sat behind bulletproof glass, sipping espresso while reviewing public riot response protocols. His gold cufflinks gleamed. His suit was spotless.
But his files were bleeding.
Because the riots were no longer random.They were targeted.
And worse—coordinated.
He didn't know it yet, but the storm had already begun.
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Underground Metro Station – Same Time
Alex Virell stepped off a service train, dressed as a municipal engineer. Around him, four operatives disembarked quietly—Mira, two techs, and a man named Holt, ex-cybercrime, current ghost.
They walked three blocks underground and entered the city's Emergency Data Vault.
Officially, it didn't exist. Unofficially, it was where the Lancaster PD stored unfiltered surveillance, emergency override codes, and backdoor access to their criminal records network.
And today?
Alex was going to burn it all.
The Plan
Stage a system "malfunction" using a simulated ransomware attack.
While PD scrambles to restore, inject real criminal evidence—doctored footage, voice recordings, wire transfers.
Link everything back to Commissioner Wexley and his private syndicate funding.
Leak it anonymously to public and press simultaneously.
It wasn't just about evidence.It was about perception.
If the people saw Wexley as dirty, the Evermore Council would have no choice but to abandon him—or burn with him.
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Inside the Vault
Mira worked the upload while Holt monitored city-wide alerts.Alex stood by the exit, watching every corridor.
Suddenly—static flared on the comm.
"Movement—north tunnel. Not ours."
Alex turned. "Cut the feed. Secure the uplink. I'll buy you three minutes."
Mira hesitated.
Alex didn't.
He was already moving.
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The tunnel ahead flickered with failing lights.
Out of the fog stepped two officers in riot gear—but wrong insignias.Not PD. Not federal.
Private enforcement.Evermore's dogs.
"Virell," one of them said, voice filtered."Your file says you're smarter than this."
Alex didn't reply.
He just stepped into the dark—and vanished.
Gunfire cracked.
But the shadows moved with him.
Three heartbeats later, one officer was unconscious. The other was disarmed and bleeding.
Alex pressed a knife to his throat.
"Who sent you?"
The officer coughed. "Wexley. Said to kill the rat… quietly."
Alex leaned closer.
"Then let's be loud."
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40 Minutes Later – Across Lancaster
Phone screens lit up.
TVs changed channels.
A viral audio file spread like wildfire:
Commissioner Wexley speaking with Senator Renn, laughing about "cleaning house" and "sweeping Virell trash under concrete."
Accompanied by surveillance images.Bribes. Assault orders. Evidence manipulations.
A firestorm ignited.
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At the Precinct
Wexley's office was surrounded. Officers yelled. Internal Affairs marched in.
He reached for a burner phone—
It buzzed.
A message:
"Hope the espresso was good.—A"
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Safehouse Rooftop – That Night
Alex stood overlooking the city.
Lia joined him, the Swan at her side.
"You did it," she said.
"No," Alex replied. "I opened the first crack."
He nodded toward the skyline.
"Now we make it collapse."