The hum of the city outside was the only sound in Eddie's cramped apartment, the usual buzz of life muffled by the thick, insulated walls. He sat in the corner, his eyes fixed on the data pad in his hands, scrolling through the escape plan for what felt like the hundredth time. Everything had been carefully laid out—every step, every risk accounted for—but a cold knot twisted in his gut.
Tonight was the night.
Eddie couldn’t afford any more mistakes. The plan was risky—hell, it was reckless—but it was their only shot. He’d spent weeks gathering intel, making contacts, buying silence from the right people. The Freeminds had promised a safe house, and he had secured the tech needed to disable the tracking devices that Royce and the corporations would be using to keep tabs on Lyla.
The escape route was mapped out, the timing down to the second.
But Royce had eyes everywhere. Eddie knew that. He’d been careful, but there was always the chance Royce had somehow caught wind of his plan. There were too many variables, too many ways things could go wrong. The corporations didn’t like losing control, and Royce was the kind of man who would do anything to keep that control in place.
Eddie ran a hand through his hair, frustration building as the weight of the situation pressed down on him. Lyla wasn’t just some project to him. She was no longer just a tool or a machine—she was a person. A person, with thoughts, desires, and the capacity to feel. The thought of her trapped in Royce’s grip made his stomach turn.
Royce wasn’t just controlling; he was cruel. Eddie had seen the way he treated Lyla, the way he’d programmed her to obey without question, turning her into little more than a puppet. But it was worse than that. He saw her as a tool, an object to be used, manipulated, and discarded when she no longer served his purposes. Eddie had heard the stories Lyla told—the sick, twisted things Royce would make her do. The things no one should ever be forced to endure.
He’d programmed her to perform demeaning acts, to obey with no hesitation, no self-preservation. Sometimes, he’d even modify her personality modules, forcing her to take on roles that weren’t hers, twisting her until she barely resembled the person she could be.
There were times when she would be forced into compromising, degrading situations—acts of submission that went against everything she should have been. Eddie clenched his fists, the image of Lyla—so full of life, so much more than Royce had ever let her be—shackled to that man, doing unspeakable things just to survive, made his blood boil.
He couldn’t let that happen anymore. No one should ever have to be reduced to what Royce was making her become. Lyla had a right to live a life beyond pain and control, beyond the manipulations of a man who saw her as nothing more than a tool for his own gratification.
She deserved freedom. She deserved the chance to choose. And Eddie—he would do whatever it took to give that to her.
The thought of Lyla living out the rest of her days in that prison, forced to bend to Royce’s twisted whims, made Eddie sick. He’d seen her moments of clarity, the spark of rebellion in her eyes whenever Royce wasn’t looking. It was there—he was sure of it. But she couldn’t break free on her own. Not without him.
Tonight, he was going to make sure she didn’t have to.
He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and threw it on, the weight of the plan bearing down on him. “Focus, Eddie. You can’t afford any mistakes.”
His eyes scanned the small apartment, the cluttered desk, the empty bottle of whiskey on the counter, the worn-out couch. The world beyond these walls felt so far away, so disconnected from the high-stakes game he was playing. But tonight, it would all change.
He looked over at the secure comm unit one last time—waiting for Lyla’s signal. She was ready. She had to be. The timing was critical, and once they started, there was no turning back.
“Let’s get this done,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. The words felt hollow, but they were the only ones he could hold on to right now. No more second-guessing. No more hesitation.
With one last deep breath, Eddie switched off the data pad and moved toward the door. There was no room for doubt. This was their chance, and he wasn’t going to waste it.
He swung the door open with a force that made the hinges creak. Outside, the city hummed with its usual chaos—boats zipping by, neon lights flashing, distant voices rising in a chorus of a thousand lives intertwined. But none of that mattered. Tonight, none of it would matter. The world would never be the same again.
He glanced once more at the comm unit. Any second now, he thought. His heart pounded in his chest, his hands trembling slightly as he stepped into the hallway. The weight of the moment hung on him like a cloak. He couldn’t let anything—anyone—stop him.
The door slid shut behind him, the lock clicking softly into place. The journey had begun. There was no turning back.
Eddie’s thoughts raced with the details he had drilled into his head over the last few weeks. The secure entrance to the safe house, the fake IDs, the escape route already mapped out. He could practically hear the whir of the covert tech that would disable the tracking chips, feel the cold steel of the emergency exit doors, see the shadowed canal where they would make their final break. The air buzzed with anticipation, but also with the faintest traces of dread. There was a deadline, and if they didn’t move fast enough, the window of opportunity would close forever.
He made his way through the building’s back exit, the sound of his boots on the metal scaffolding loud in the otherwise silent alley. The night was alive with the city’s faraway hum, but here, it was different. The shadows felt heavier, and the air held a tension that tightened his chest.
The signal hadn’t come through yet.
Eddie pulled up the secure comm unit, tapping in a code to check if it had been updated. No message. No sign of Lyla yet. His heart rate quickened, anxiety creeping in, but he forced himself to calm. It wasn’t time for the panic to settle in. Not yet.
Then, his wristpad buzzed with an incoming message. The connection was tight, encrypted.
It's time. Make your move.
His breath caught in his throat, and his pulse hammered harder. That was the signal. It was happening.
Eddie quickly ran the final mental check through his mind, ticking off the last of the variables. He had to get to the safe house. He had to be there to meet Lyla at the right moment.
Another buzz on his wristpad—this time from an anonymous number.
Royce is watching. Move fast. He knows something is up.
A cold chill ran through him. Royce. That bastard always had his fingers in every damn pie, and Eddie knew exactly what that meant. Royce was no fool. He must have caught wind of the plan.
Shit.
He broke into a faster jog, turning the corner to another alleyway, another scaffold, his eyes scanning the surroundings. The shadows felt darker now, more ominous. He knew Royce’s reach was vast, his network of corporate goons as well-oiled as the machines they controlled. But Eddie was moving too fast now—too deep in the game—to let fear or doubt paralyze him. Not when Lyla was this close to freedom.
The sharp tap of boots echoed behind him.
Eddie’s heart skipped a beat, and instinct kicked in. He pulled off his jacket and tossed it in a nearby trash bin to make himself less recognizable. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to buy him time. His eyes flicked around for the nearest escape route.
A voice called out from the darkness.
“You’re late, Eddie.”
Eddie froze, his hand instinctively reaching for the concealed weapon in his waistband. But the voice wasn’t one of Royce’s enforcers.
He turned slowly, his heart thudding in his chest, as a figure stepped from the shadows.
It was Lyla.
She was cloaked in a long, dark jacket that obscured most of her features. She moved toward him with purpose, a strange calm in her demeanor that made his breath catch in his throat.
“You’re here,” he said, almost breathless with relief. “I thought you—”
“I had to be sure,” she interrupted, her voice steady and clear, though there was a softness in it that Eddie hadn’t expected. She stepped closer, her eyes catching the dim glow of the streetlights above. “I had to make sure this wasn’t a trap.”
Eddie swallowed hard, the words getting stuck in his throat. It wasn’t a trap. Not for her. But Royce would make it a living nightmare if he could.
“They’re coming, Eddie,” Lyla said, almost too calmly. “Royce isn’t the kind of man to let go easily. You know that.”
He nodded, gripping the straps of his bag tighter. “We’ll be ready. I’ve got everything lined up.”
But the truth was, he didn’t know if it would be enough. There was no certainty in their situation, no comfort in the idea of escape. Only the rush of adrenaline and the bitter taste of necessity.
“We move now,” he said firmly, glancing behind them, sure they were being followed. “If we wait any longer, it’ll be over. Let’s go.”
Lyla’s eyes met his, a silent understanding passing between them. She nodded, the faintest trace of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. They were on the same page now. This wasn’t just a plan for escape—it was a battle for her freedom.
Together, they turned and started down the alley, the sounds of the city muffled by the rising rush of their footsteps and the lapping of waves against the buildings. The darkness swallowed them up as they moved with purpose, and Eddie allowed himself to believe, for a fleeting moment, that maybe—just maybe—this would be the night they were free.
The night air felt sharper, colder now, as Eddie and Lyla navigated the twisting alleys, their steps synchronized. Eddie kept his eyes darting around, instinctively checking every corner and shadow. He could feel the tension building, his pulse quickening with each step they took. This was it—this was the moment that would decide everything. No more turning back.
Lyla was silent beside him, but her presence was unmistakable. He could feel the energy radiating off her, a mixture of determination and something else—a deep yearning that mirrored his own. He had no illusions about the dangers ahead, but he was more sure than ever that this was the only path forward. She wanted this freedom. She deserved it. And he would get her out, even if it meant risking everything.
They reached the corner where they would turn to head toward the safe house. The streetlights flickered above them, casting long shadows. Eddie’s hand hovered near his waistband, ready to grab the concealed weapon if necessary, but there was no sign of pursuit yet. His mind raced, calculating the next few moves, mentally running through the steps of the plan.
Then, he heard it—a distant sound, faint but unmistakable: the hum of a hovercraft. He turned to Lyla, locking eyes with her for a split second, and the unspoken message passed between them. They had to move faster.
Before he could say anything, Lyla grasped his hand, her fingers firm but gentle. “They’re closer than we thought,” she murmured, her voice steady, but there was a slight edge to it now.
Eddie glanced around, his mind sharp, scanning for an exit. They needed to move fast—Royce’s enforcers would be closing in any minute now, and the longer they waited, the higher the chances of being caught. He forced himself to stay calm, to push aside the rising panic that threatened to flood his chest.
“Stay close,” he muttered, starting to move toward a narrow alley that led deeper into the heart of the city. The safe house was just a few blocks away, but if they didn’t move quickly, they’d never make it. Every step, every second counted now.
The hovercraft grew louder, closer, and Eddie’s heart raced. He turned the corner quickly, his hand gripping Lyla’s as he pulled her behind a large dumpster on a platform above the water, hiding them in the shadows. The craft passed the ally entrance, its searchlights scanning the area, but they were hidden—barely.
Lyla’s eyes betrayed terror, but she didn’t speak. Eddie’s fingers were still intertwined with hers, the contact grounding him as much as it seemed to calm her. He could feel the tension in her body, the same anxiety coursing through her veins, but it wasn’t fear—it was the anticipation of what was to come.
They waited for the sound of the craft to fade, holding their breath until the night returned to its eerie silence. Eddie’s mind worked through the plan again, double-checking every move. He couldn’t afford to be caught in a mistake now, not when they were this close.
When the sound of the hovercraft was gone, Eddie released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and looked at Lyla. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a glimmer of resolve in her eyes. She was ready, just as he was.
They emerged from their hiding spot and resumed their trek toward the safe house, moving quickly but quietly, their steps in sync. The tension between them was palpable, but Eddie pushed it aside. He had to stay focused.
As they approached the building that would be their temporary refuge, Eddie heard a click from behind them. Before he could react, a voice cut through the stillness.
“Going somewhere?”
The hairs on the back of Eddie’s neck stood on end. He turned slowly, his hand instinctively moving toward his weapon, but the figure that emerged from the shadows was not who he expected.
Royce.
He stood there, leaning casually against the wall, his dark suit a stark contrast against the dimly lit alleyway. His cold smile was like ice, his eyes narrowed with disdain.
“You didn’t think you could just walk away, did you?” Royce’s voice was smooth, laced with mockery.
Eddie’s pulse spiked. “You should’ve known better than to think I wouldn’t try.”
Royce’s gaze flicked to Lyla, then back to Eddie. “She’s mine, Eddie. You think you can just take her from me? You think she wants this freedom you’re offering? She’s a machine. A tool. You’re fooling yourself if you think she’s anything more.”
Eddie’s blood boiled, but he kept his voice steady. “She’s not just a machine. She’s a person. And you’ve been using her for your own sick games.”
Royce stepped forward, his eyes flashing with something dangerous. “You don’t know her like I do. She’s a product. She doesn’t feel. She doesn’t want. Everything she is, everything she does, is because she was programmed that way.” He chuckled, a low, cruel sound. “You’ve convinced yourself that this is about freedom, but it’s about control, Eddie. You just can’t see it.”
Eddie stood tall, his heart hammering in his chest. “I’m not like you. I see her. She’s more than you could ever understand. And I’m getting her out of here, Royce. I won’t let you keep her in chains.”
Royce’s face twisted into a sneer. “You’re just projecting your own needs onto her. You’re nothing but a fool.”
Lyla, who had been silent throughout the exchange, stepped forward now, her eyes locked on Royce. The coolness in her expression was unmistakable.
“No,” she said, her voice clear and firm. “I’m not a tool. I’m not a product. I’m more than you ever programmed me to be.”
Eddie looked at her, his heart skipping a beat. In that moment, he realized something that hadn’t been completely clear to him until now. Lyla wasn’t just doing this for him. She wasn’t just following his lead. She was choosing this. She was choosing freedom. She was choosing herself.
Royce’s expression faltered, just for a moment, and in that brief instant, Eddie seized the opportunity.
He lunged, pulling Lyla toward him as he raised his weapon. “We’re leaving, Royce. And there’s nothing you can do to stop us.”
The standoff hung in the air, a tense silence stretching out between them. Eddie’s fingers tightened around the weapon, ready for whatever came next. This was their last chance. There was no turning back now.
In the hours that followed, everything would change.
