Just fifteen minutes after the interrogation ended, Max was free. The redness on his wrists from the handcuffs had vanished, his skin smooth and unmarked. The cold metal chair and icy interrogation room—where prisoners from the infamous Dead District were brought for questioning—were behind him, replaced by a long corridor scented with hot metal and electronic steam from the Industrial District's ventilation.
Red security lights blinked slowly, tracking his every step as if they wanted to trap him. Max held his breath for a moment—not out of fear, but caution.
"Still alive, immune rat?" one of the men who had hit him earlier jeered from the exit, his gaze dismissive.
Max smiled faintly, a streak of dried blood still clinging to his lip. "Healthier than you, who guards doors all day," he replied calmly, eyes sharp. The officer frowned, snorted, and finally let him go.
A light drizzle greeted him outside. The night air was cold and damp, biting through his thin jacket. Neon lights from digital billboards reflected across wet streets, while holographic ads hovered above. Long stretches of factories and rail depots gave the city a harsh, alive feeling.
Patrol drones hovered above, their spotlights darting among hurrying night workers. Flying cars streaked through designated lanes, leaving blue light trails in the mist. Hover bikes hissed along side rails, more like magnetic whispers than engines.
Max glanced at a government hologram:"We live because of discipline. New Life is humanity's last hope."
He gave a faint, bitter smile. Dried blood still on his lip. "Last hope… funny," he muttered.
He stepped into the "Aurora Loop – Dock 7" capsule, a nighttime transit tube for the magnetized rails. Tonight, he wasn't heading to skyscrapers or entertainment zones—his destination was the Old Sector slums, where he usually hid and gathered information. Narrow alleys, dilapidated buildings, dangling power lines, and graffiti-covered walls replaced the city lights.
The transparent capsule swallowed him, holding him steady as it glided horizontally. Neon lights faded, replaced by dim, flickering street lamps cutting through the rainy haze. Outside, slum residents moved about: some staring at worn holograms, children splashing in puddles, street vendors hastily closing stalls. The air smelled of smoke, garbage, and canal steam—a stark contrast to the pristine Industrial District.
The capsule stopped at Dock 15 – Old Sector Terminal. Max stepped onto cracked pavement, the street lights reflecting off puddles. He weaved through dark alleys, avoiding vagrants and children playing in the rain. Here, there was no strict security—only street rules and rumors.
Minutes later, Max reached Menara Solace – Apartment 43B, his usual resting place. The digital apartment door lit up as he approached, sensors reading his fingerprint and scanning his iris. A soft click sounded, and the door slid open automatically.
Inside, the mix of chemicals, synthetic oils, and stale coffee hit him immediately. The apartment was small but functional: a thin synthetic mattress in one corner, a foldable metal table with a drink dispenser, a mini stove, and a small rack with basic kitchen utensils.
April stood in the center, hair messy, her white nurse uniform dirty and wrinkled, eyes red as if she had been crying. Her expression was a mix of shock and anger.
"Max!" April called, half shouting. "Are you okay? What happened out there?"
Max took off his wet jacket, placing it on a chair. "I'm fine… just a little messed up," he replied quietly.
April bit her lip, tension in her face. "Damn it… those monsters attacked out of nowhere. The district's a red zone now. News said a thousand people died in one night! And strangely… they're blaming you. Did you see the report?"
Max glanced at her, eyes dim. "I saw it."
She stepped closer, voice low but shaking. "When I run… I looked back. You were gone. Suddenly, you were captured. What really happened?"
Max took a deep breath, staring at the rain-speckled window. "It's not the first time they twisted the story. And it won't be the last time I'm made the scapegoat."
April clenched her fists. "I… I was so scared, Max. I thought you—" Her voice caught.
Max approached, calm but firm. "I'm still here, April. I won't let them touch you again."
April lowered her head for a moment, then looked up. "You need to tell me everything, Max. We need to know who our enemy is. I don't want us to keep being targets."
He stared at the rain streaking the window, neon bleeding across the glass. "There will be time for that, April. For now… we have one advantage: we're still alive."
April's eyes trembled. "Alive… just like back then. When we first entered the Dead District."
Max exhaled slowly. Back then. The ruins, the screams, the rain… artinya apa