Aria's POV
I don't go back to sleep.
I can't. Every time I close my eyes, I see Juno's beaten face from the emergency broadcast. The bruises. The blood. The terror in his eyes.
At 6 AM, my alarm sounds for work. My body moves automatically—pull on my gray factory uniform, splash cold water on my face, choke down a nutrition bar that tastes like cardboard. My hands won't stop shaking.
The walk to Factory 7 feels like walking to my own execution.
Other workers avoid my eyes. They know. Everyone received the same broadcast. Everyone knows Juno is my friend. In The Depths, friendship with a criminal makes you suspicious. Contaminated.
Dangerous.
I'm three blocks from the factory when I hear it.
Screaming.
My head snaps up. Workers are running toward Factory 7, shoving past me. No—not toward it. Away from it. Their faces twisted with fear.
"What's happening?" I grab a woman's arm.
She yanks away. "Raid! The guards are inside!"
My blood turns to ice. I start running toward the factory, pushing against the flood of fleeing workers. My heart hammers so hard it hurts. Please let it be a mistake. Please let Juno be safe somewhere. Please—
I burst through Factory 7's entrance and freeze.
Guards in black armor fill the assembly floor. Twenty of them, maybe more. They're tearing apart workstations, scanning implants, shouting orders. Workers cower against the walls, hands behind their heads.
And there, in the center of it all, is Juno.
On his knees. Hands bound behind his back. Face swollen and bleeding.
"NO!" The scream rips from my throat before I can stop it.
Every guard turns toward me. Juno's head jerks up, his eyes going wide with horror.
"Aria, run!" he shouts.
I don't run. I can't. My feet carry me forward, straight toward him.
A guard steps in my path—massive, face hidden behind a black helmet. "Halt. This area is restricted."
"That's my friend! What did you do to him?" I try to shove past but the guard doesn't budge.
"Worker 4-7-Delta-9, stand down or face—"
I don't let him finish. I duck under his arm and sprint toward Juno.
"Juno!"
I make it five steps.
Then something slams into my back and I'm airborne. I hit the concrete floor hard, the impact driving all air from my lungs. Pain explodes through my ribs. Can't breathe. Can't move.
Heavy boots appear in my blurred vision. A guard hauls me up by my hair, making me scream.
"Aria!" Juno thrashes against his restraints. "Don't hurt her! She didn't know anything!"
A new voice cuts through the chaos—female, cold, amused. "How touching."
The crowd of guards parts. A woman walks through, and even in my pain, I recognize her from propaganda screens. Lysandra Vex. Director of Harmony Division. One of the Higher Beings.
She's terrifyingly beautiful. White-blonde hair pulled back severely. Ice-blue eyes that look through people like they're insects. She wears all white—a power suit that probably costs more than my entire sector earns in a year.
She stops in front of Juno, studying him like a scientist examining a lab rat.
"Juno Park," she says softly. "Age twenty-six. Factory worker. No living family except one sister, age seven. Diagnosed genetic defect—lung disease." Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. "How convenient that you attempted to steal exactly the medicine she needs."
"She's dying," Juno says, voice broken. "Please. The Council has the resources to—"
"The Council has the resources to maintain order." Lysandra crouches down to his level. "Resources wasted on defective genetics serve no purpose. Your sister should have been eliminated at birth. We're simply correcting an oversight."
My vision goes red. "You monster!"
Lysandra's eyes flick to me. "Ah. The friend. Worker 4-7-Delta-9." She stands, walking toward me with predatory grace. "Interesting. Your productivity scores are excellent. Above average intelligence. Adequate genetics." She tilts her head. "Why would someone with your potential associate with criminal trash?"
"He's not trash! He's worth a hundred of you!"
Her hand moves so fast I don't see it coming. The slap cracks across my face, snapping my head sideways. I taste blood.
"Mind your tongue, lower-class," Lysandra says pleasantly. "Or I'll remove it."
"Director Vex." Another voice, deeper. Male. Authoritative.
Everyone goes still.
A man enters the factory floor, and the temperature seems to drop ten degrees. He's tall, dressed in a black military uniform with silver insignia. His hair is pale platinum-silver—a genetic enhancement only Higher Beings can afford. But it's his eyes that freeze me in place. Storm-gray. Cold. Empty.
Like looking into the eyes of death itself.
"Commander Voss." Lysandra's voice turns respectful. "I wasn't expecting you personally."
Commander Voss. I know that name. Everyone does. Supreme Commander of Tech Security. The Council's enforcer. The man who performs public executions without hesitation.
The man who's going to kill Juno.
Kaelen Voss walks past me without a glance, his attention fixed on Juno. He pulls out a tablet and scrolls through data.
"Juno Park. Technology crimes against the state. Attempted theft of controlled medical supplies. Hacking Level 3 security systems." His voice is flat, mechanical. "The evidence is conclusive."
"I did it," Juno says quickly. "But please—my sister needs—"
"Your sister is irrelevant." Kaelen's gray eyes remain fixed on his tablet. "She'll be transferred to a state facility after your execution. If she survives six months, she'll be reassigned to factory work."
The casual cruelty steals my breath. He's talking about a seven-year-old child dying alone in a facility, and his voice doesn't even change.
"You can't do this!" I scream. "He was trying to save his family! That's not a crime!"
Finally—finally—those storm-gray eyes turn to me.
For one second, something flickers in them. Surprise? Recognition? But it vanishes so quickly I think I imagined it.
"Take the criminal to holding," Kaelen orders. "Execution is scheduled for noon tomorrow. Public broadcast to all sectors."
"No!" I lunge forward but guards grab my arms, holding me back. "Juno!"
They drag him toward the exit. He doesn't fight. Just looks back at me with tears streaming down his face.
"Take care of Maya," he calls. "Please, Aria. Promise me!"
"I promise! Juno, I promise!" I'm sobbing now, struggling against the guards' grip. "Don't give up! I'll find a way—"
"There is no way." Lysandra appears beside me, her voice honey-sweet with malice. "Tomorrow at noon, your friend's implant will detonate. His brain will liquefy. And you'll watch every second on mandatory broadcast." She leans closer, whispering in my ear. "Maybe it'll teach you the price of caring about people."
They release me and I collapse on the floor. Through the blur of tears, I watch them shove Juno into an armored transport vehicle.
The factory doors slam shut.
He's gone.
Workers slowly return to their stations, avoiding my eyes. The guards leave. Within minutes, it's like nothing happened. The assembly line starts up again. Mechanical arms whir to life. Everyone returns to building cameras.
I sit on the cold concrete floor, my body shaking with silent sobs.
A shadow falls over me.
I look up. Commander Voss stands there, his expression unreadable. He shouldn't still be here. Why is he still here?
"You care about him," he says quietly. Not a question. A statement.
"Yes." My voice comes out broken. "He's all I have."
Something crosses Kaelen's face—too quick to read. He glances around, checking for cameras and guards. Then he does something that makes no sense.
He crouches down to my level, bringing those cold gray eyes close to mine. And he whispers three words that stop my heart:
"Don't give up."
Then he stands and walks away, leaving me frozen on the factory floor.
What did he mean? Don't give up? Why would he say that? He's the executioner. He's going to kill Juno tomorrow.
Unless...
My implant suddenly vibrates with an incoming message. I open it with shaking hands.
It's an anonymous file. No sender ID. Encrypted.
The file contains a single address in the old sector and a time: Tonight. 2 AM.
Below that, one sentence:
"If you want to save him, come alone. Tell no one. —A Friend"
My heart pounds so hard I feel dizzy. This could be a trap. Could be Lysandra testing me. Could be anything.
But it's also the only hope I have.
Tonight. 2 AM.
I'm going.