2025-12-22 23:50:30
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The room was dark except for the glow of Wilson’s screens.Lines of code streamed endlessly, reflected in Davion’s eyes as he stood behind him, arms crossed, jaw set. The secure location felt less like a safe house and more like a pressure chamber—every second tightening, waiting to explode.“This is it,” Wilson said finally. “Everything Iron Hand buried.”Beverly sat on the couch, shoulder bandaged, face pale but alert. She refused to lie down. Refused to be treated like something fragile.“Say it clearly,” Irene said. “What happens when we hit upload?”Wilson swallowed. “Governments panic. Corporations deny. People get arrested. People disappear.”Davion nodded once. “And Iron Hand loses control of the story.”Elias leaned against the wall, arms wrapped around himself. “They’ll come for us.”“They already are,” Beverly said quietly.Davion looked at her. She met his eyes, steady despite the bruises.“They burned your home,” he said. “They put you in a hospital bed.”“And?” she repli
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The first sign was the blackout.The hospital lights flickered once—twice—then died.Monitors screamed. Backup generators kicked in a second later, but the damage was already done. Panic rippled through the floor like a living thing.Davion sat upright in bed, heart pounding. “That wasn’t random.”Beverly was already on her feet, instinct sharp. “Iron Hand.”Irene’s voice crackled through the emergency intercom. “Whole east wing lost power for six seconds. That’s not an outage. That’s a test.”Wilson burst into the room, tablet clutched tight. “They didn’t come for you.”Davion’s stomach dropped. “Then who?”Wilson turned the screen toward them.Beverly’s name filled it.Along with an address.Her apartment.“NO,” Davion said, ripping the monitors off his chest.Beverly grabbed his arm. “Davion, you can barely stand—”“They’re not using Axiom,” Wilson said fast. “This is surgical. Personal.”Beverly’s face went pale. “They’re trying to make a point.”Davion was already moving.Her bui
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The hospital room smelled like antiseptic and burned fabric.Davion lay still beneath white sheets, machines humming softly at his side. The bullet had missed anything vital by inches, but the pain was still there—deep, aching, reminding him with every breath that he wasn’t invincible.Outside the room, voices argued in hushed tones.“They filmed everything,” Irene was saying. “The rescue. The fire. Him getting shot.”Wilson replied quietly, “It’s already everywhere.”Beverly stood by the door, arms folded, jaw tight. She hadn’t left his side except when the doctors forced her to. Even now, her eyes kept drifting to the rise and fall of his chest like she needed to count it to believe it was real.“He didn’t hesitate,” Irene added. “He jumped in front of a kid.”Beverly swallowed. “That’s who he is.”Inside the room, Davion stirred.Beverly was moving before anyone else noticed. She crossed the room in two steps, taking his hand carefully like she was afraid he’d vanish if she gripped
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They didn’t go home.Home was predictable. Home was traceable.Instead, they regrouped in a half-forgotten subway station beneath the city—concrete walls sweating moisture, flickering lights buzzing overhead like nervous insects. Wilson had chosen it for one reason: Iron Hand hated places that couldn’t be controlled.Davion stood near the edge of the platform, staring into the tunnel’s darkness as if it might answer him back.“This is where it changes,” he said quietly.Beverly leaned against a pillar beside him. Her shoulder was bruised, her knuckles wrapped, but her eyes were sharp. “Then say it out loud.”He turned to face the group—Beverly, Irene, Wilson, Elias. No speeches. No dramatic buildup.“We stop reacting,” Davion said. “We hit them first.”Elias stiffened. “They’ll come hard.”“I know,” Davion replied. “That’s the point.”Wilson pulled up a holographic display from his tablet. “Iron Hand cells are already mobilizing. Three confirmed locations. One unconfirmed.”Irene cros
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The warehouse was supposed to be abandoned.Davion stood across the street, hood pulled low, staring at the rusted structure like it might blink first. The coordinates had led them here—an old shipping hub by the river, half-collapsed, windows boarded, lights dead.Except it wasn’t dead.A single light glowed on the top floor.“I hate this,” Irene muttered beside him.Wilson adjusted the strap of his bag. “Yeah. That makes all of us.”Beverly didn’t speak. She was watching Davion instead, reading the tightness in his jaw, the way his fingers flexed like he was preparing for impact.“This is bait,” she said quietly.“I know,” Davion replied.“And you’re still going in.”“Yes.”She exhaled sharply through her nose. “Then we’re going in together.”Davion met her eyes. For a moment, he almost argued. Almost said it was too dangerous.But Iron Hand had taken enough choices from him already.“Together,” he agreed.They moved fast.The door creaked open with a sound that echoed far too loudl
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The city didn’t sleep.Screens flickered in shop windows, phones buzzed nonstop, and Davion’s name burned across headlines like a scar the world had just noticed.IRON HAND EXPOSEDGENESIS DESTROYEDCHILD SOLDIERS FREEDDavion watched it all from the hospital window, the glow of the city reflecting faintly in the glass. His reflection looked older. Not braver. Just tired.Beverly sat on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, scrolling through her phone with a frown.“They’re calling you a hero,” she said.He snorted softly. “They always do. Until they don’t.”She looked up at him. “You don’t believe it.”“I believe the kids are safe,” he replied. “That’s enough.”A knock interrupted them.Irene stepped in, her expression tight. “You need to see this.”She handed the phone to Davion.The video was shaky—clearly recorded in a rush. Dark room. Emergency lighting. A familiar voice filled the speakers.Dr. Kael Vire.Alive.Davion’s breath stopped.“If you’re watching this,” his father said ca
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