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When we finally tear ourselves away from our unit, stepping out into the cool morning air, I feel the crispness of it on my skin, as though the air itself is breathing life into the city. The smells of distant cooking, the earthy tang of new growth from the gardens—so much has changed.

The streets, once desolate, now pulse with joy. Children race through a forgotten lot, their laughter filling the air like music—something I never thought I’d hear again, breaking through the silence we’d grown used to.

“You know,” I say, turning to Myall, keeping my voice low, “sometimes, I wonder if we’re ready for all this responsibility…

” I trail off, my hands clenching at my sides as the enormity of our plans settle heavily on my chest. I gesture vaguely at the world around us, the city teeming with energy, children laughing and playing, yet unease lingers.

A breeze stirs the leaves of the trees around us, but it feels cool, sharp, like a warning.

Myall’s fingers intertwine with mine. His voice is low, thoughtful. “I know what you mean.”

I nod, squeezing his hand. “We have the power to reshape society, to give people back their emotions. But what if we mess it up?”

“That’s why we have to be careful,” Myall replies. “We can’t just tear down the old system without considering the consequences.”

A group of children, all young and carefree, rush by us, their joyful squeals and laughter filling the streets as they race each other.

“I keep thinking about how we’ll help people transition,” I muse. “It’s not just about removing the NeuroMods. We need to teach people how to handle their emotions, how to live authentically whilst not creating the chaos Colvin warned about.”

Myall nods thoughtfully. “You’re right, but It’s going to be a long process.”

As we approach the former Compliance Monitoring Division building, the surrealism of it hits me again.

The stark, clinical space that once felt like a cage now hums with life.

Vibrant murals of bright blues and fiery oranges cover the walls, where sterile whites once reigned.

The scent of fresh paint mixes with the sharp tang of coffee and the chatter of rebels filling the air.

It’s the same building, but it feels entirely different—alive, free, like it could never return to its old, oppressive self.

“It’s still hard to believe,” I whisper, taking in the sight of our fellow rebels gathered around a makeshift office space. “This place used to terrify me.”

Myall squeezes my hand. “Now it’s a beacon of hope.”

We head toward the central meeting area, where a holographic display flickers to life. Arden catches my eye, and she flashes us a mischievous grin.

“About time you two lovebirds showed up,” she teases. “Some of us have been working since dawn.”

Heat rises to my cheeks. “We were…discussing strategy,” I lie, poorly.

Myall clears his throat. “What did we miss?”

Arden begins running through the daily report as my mind wanders. We’ve made progress, but dismantling a worldwide system of emotional control is no small feat. The isolated communities worry me most—how can we reach them without putting our operatives at risk?

“We need eyes and ears in those communities,” I interrupt, my voice tight with urgency. “But sending in our people blind could be disastrous.”

“I’ll go,” Arden says, her eyes flashing with determination. “I can blend in, gather intel on The Sanctum, and report back without raising suspicion.”

As Arden makes her suggestion, I catch a flicker of concern in Myall’s eyes. His hand tightens around mine, his knuckles going white for a moment. I can almost feel the tension in his body—the way his shoulders are slightly stiff, as if preparing for a fight.

Arden’s words are light, but her suggestion cuts through the room like a knife. Her confident smirk does little to ease the unease growing in my chest.

“It’s too dangerous, Arden.” I say. “If they realize why you’re there—”

“They won’t,” she cuts me off, that familiar smirk playing on her lips. “I grew up dodging Enforcers. This is what I’m made for.”

Myall’s brow furrows, doubt flickering in his eyes as I voice my concerns. I can sense the tension, like a taut wire ready to snap. “Infiltrating a community is a far cry from evading a few Enforcers,” he says, but I can tell he’s grappling with the weight of that responsibility too.

My heart races at the thought of Arden going in alone. “What if they realize why you’re there?” The question hangs in the air, threatening to fracture our fragile optimism.

“Then I’ll have someone nearby who can sound the alert,” Arden mutters, fiddling with the armrest of her chair.

I glance to Myall, hoping for support, but I see the wheels turning in his mind. He’s considering it.

“We need a solid plan,” he says slowly. “Arden’s skills make her the ideal candidate, but we can’t rush in without a thinking this through.”

As the room erupts into a flurry of tactical discussions, I can’t shake the feeling that we’re playing with fire. But isn’t that what started this rebellion in the first place? The burning desire for freedom, no matter the cost?

Steeling myself for the challenges ahead, I take a deep breath. “Alright,” my voice steadies. “Let’s make this happen. But Arden?” I lock eyes with her. “You come back to us, understood?”

Her grin is both reassuring and terrifying. “Wouldn’t miss the revolution for the world, boss.”

As we take a break for lunch, Myall and I find ourselves alone on the small rooftop garden, the city stretching out beneath us. The garden is a patchwork of greenery, wildflowers in bursts of lavender and yellow swaying gently in the breeze, their petals rustling softly against one another.

The sun warms my face, its rays carrying the faint scent of earth and flowers. For a moment, I let myself soak in the tranquility, the stillness. But even now, we can’t afford to relax—not yet.

“Elara is wondering if we’re still planning on joining her for dinner,” Myall says. Undoubtedly, he’s just received a reminder comm from Elara.

“I wouldn’t miss one of her dinners for anything,” I reply softly, meaning it.

We make it a point to have dinner at Elara’s house a few times each week now.

Sometimes it’s just the two of us with Elara, but other times our fellow rebels join us.

The dinners when we’re all together at Elara’s are my favorite.

“We’ve come so far,” I muse, “but there’s still so much to do.”

Myall joins me, his shoulder brushing mine. “What’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours?”

Turning to face him, my heart swells at the mix of admiration and challenge in his eyes.

“We need to expand our reach,” I say, letting out a sigh.

“The isolated communities are still in the dark and we have no idea how deep The Sanctum’s emotional suppression is there. We need to light the spark there, too.”

“Arden’s mission is just the beginning,” Myall nods. “But it’s risky sending her in alone. If she’s not careful—”

“I agree,” I cut him off, a familiar knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. “But she’s right. We can’t let fear hold us back. Not now.”

Myall’s hand finds mine, his touch sending a flutter through me. “We won’t. But we need to be smart—strategic. We can’t send her in blind.”

I squeeze his hand, grateful for his levelheadedness. “I know. We’ll start small, build a team, just like we did here. It’ll take time, but—”

“We have time,” Myall assures me. “And each other.”

I nod, Myall’s words solidifying my resolve, but beneath it, doubt still flickers.

We’re fighting for something worth having—something worth living for—but the cost of freedom is unknown.

My stomach churns with the weight of it, like I’m standing on the edge of something vast and dangerous.

But then I look at Myall, his steady gaze, and that uncertainty starts to fade.

“You’re right,” I say, my voice firmer now.

As we stand there, overlooking the city we’re reshaping, I feel a surge of hope so powerful it almost hurts. We have a long road ahead, full of challenges and risks. But we’re no longer alone. We have each other, and a growing army of people ready to reclaim their humanity.

“We’re really doing this,” I whisper, to myself.

Myall’s lips brush my temple in a feather light touch. “Together,” he says.