The Control Room

  The elevator doors slid open with a polite chime.

  Elias expected a newsroom—chaos, shouting producers, ringing phones. Instead, he stepped into a cathedral of silence.

  The top floor of National Prime News was a single, massive room walled in glass. In the center sat a semi-circular desk filled with monitors, mixing boards, and glowing buttons.

  Sitting in the director's chair, bathed in the blue light of a hundred screens, was The Consultant.

  He spun around slowly. He was holding a glass of champagne.

  "Right on time," The Consultant said, his voice echoing in the empty room. "I told Kane you wouldn't take the stairs. You lack the stamina."

  Standing in the shadows behind the desk was Kane. He looked... clean. His suit was pressed. His hair was perfect. The bruises from Elias’s punch were gone. But worse than that, the fear was gone. He looked at Elias with the blank, glossy eyes of a shark.

  "You fixed him," Elias said, stepping out of the elevator. "You erased his memory."

  "I optimized him," The Consultant corrected. "Guilt is just a software bug, Elias. I patched it."

  The Stranger stepped out of the elevator. The air in the room instantly grew heavy. The lights on the dashboard flickered.

  "Hello, Landlord," The Consultant said, raising his glass. "Enjoying the tour of my facility?"

  "It is a factory," The Stranger said, looking at the screens displaying the fake news reports. "You manufacture fear here."

  "I manufacture order," The Consultant replied, standing up. "Look at them." He gestured to the city below. "They are terrified of you, Elias. They are united in that fear. They are calling their families. They are locking their doors. For the first time in history, the crime rate in this city is zero because everyone is too scared to leave their homes."

  The Consultant smiled.

  "I have created peace. You just created a mess."

  The Rush

  The Stranger looked at Elias. "The microphone is on the desk. You know what to do."

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  "Kane," The Consultant said softly. "Cut the feed."

  Kane moved. He didn't run; he blurred.

  Intent: Intercept. Neutralize.

  Elias felt the attack coming, but Kane was faster than before. There was no hesitation. No doubt. No pain holding him back.

  Elias ducked, feeling the wind of a spin kick pass over his head. He scrambled toward the desk.

  Kane landed and pivoted, drawing his knife. Intent: Hamstring. Cripple.

  Elias rolled forward, narrowly avoiding the blade. He crashed into the side of the mixing desk.

  "He's too fast!" Elias shouted. "I can't feel any fear in him!"

  "He is empty!" The Stranger roared.

  The Stranger raised his hand. "Stop." He unleashed a wave of Authority—the same power that had frozen the prison guards.

  But The Consultant simply snapped his fingers. Snap. The wave dissipated like smoke in a breeze.

  "Denied," The Consultant said boredly. "Your jurisdiction ends at the door, Landlord. This is my edit bay."

  The Glitch

  Kane lunged at Elias again. The knife was inches from Elias’s chest.

  Elias didn't have a weapon. He didn't have speed. But he had the one thing the Consultant had thrown away.

  He has no memory of the pain, Elias realized. That means he has no defense against it.

  Elias didn't dodge. He threw his hand out—not to hit Kane, but to grab the blade. His fingers closed around the sharp steel.

  Slice.

  Blood poured from Elias’s hand. It hurt like hell. It was blinding, searing agony.

  "Got you," Elias gritted out.

  Ability Activated: [The Tether]

  Elias didn't push guilt into Kane this time. He pushed the now. He took the screaming pain of his sliced hand and shoved it down the bond into Kane’s mind.

  Kane froze. His eyes widened. He looked at his own hand, confused. He wasn't cut, but his brain screamed that he was.

  "Error," Kane whispered, stumbling back. He looked at the Consultant. "System... error."

  "Useless," The Consultant sighed.

  Elias kicked Kane in the knee, knocking the assassin to the floor. He scrambled over the desk, leaving a trail of blood on the pristine white surface.

  He grabbed the microphone. It was heavy, cold, and dead. The "On Air" light was red.

  "It's off!" Elias shouted. "He cut the power!"

  The Consultant laughed. "Did you think I would leave the channel open for you? You are speaking to a paperweight, boy."

  The Stranger walked forward. He ignored the Consultant. He ignored Kane. He walked straight to the wall of servers humming against the glass.

  "He controls the switches," The Stranger said, placing both hands on the black metal of the server rack.

  The Stranger’s grey coat began to glow. His eyes turned into pools of white fire.

  "But I control the lightning."

  BOOM.

  A shockwave of electrical energy blasted through the room. Sparks rained down from the ceiling. Every screen in the room shattered.

  But the microphone... the microphone hummed to life. The little light turned GREEN.

  "Speak!" The Stranger commanded, his voice shaking the building. "Speak to them, Witness!"

  The Voice

  Elias grabbed the mic with his bloody hand. He looked at the shattered monitors. He imagined the millions of living rooms, the bars, the phones, the screens across the city.

  He didn't have a speech prepared. He was just a college student in a stolen jumpsuit, bleeding on a desk.

  He leaned in.

  "My name is Elias Thorne," he rasped. "I am not a terrorist."

  He took a breath.

  "I am the guy who saw you crying yesterday. And I’m here to tell you... it’s okay to remember why."

  WE ARE LIVE.

  The Strategy: The Consultant tried to make Kane a machine. Elias used that against him by re-introducing the one thing machines can't handle: Pain.

  Next Chapter: The Speech. What do you say to 8 million people who think you're a monster?

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