Morning came too bright, too calm — the kind of deceptive calm that hides an ambush underneath.
The fog had lifted from Apocalypse Playground, the sky a washed-out gray-blue, and the world outside the park watched with the collective anticipation of people who didn't yet know they were about to witness a scandal.
Aria Lane felt it immediately — the stillness that didn't belong.
It wasn't silence. It was intent.
She sipped her instant coffee from a cracked tin mug, eyes scanning the rides.
"Someone's setting the stage," she murmured.
She wasn't wrong.
---
In the control tent, Bianca stood beside the director, her makeup flawless, her smile colder than the lights overhead.
"I'll do it," she said sweetly. "You want her off-balance? Let me handle it. People love a confrontation."
Marcus frowned. "You're sure about this? Last time someone tried to 'handle' her, they left with a concussion and a fan club."
Bianca's expression hardened. "She humiliated me in front of millions. She stole my career. I'm taking it back — live."
The director grinned. "Perfect. We'll cue you in after lunch. Just follow the script."
---
By noon, the show's "mission briefing" was in full swing.
Twenty contestants stood in the central plaza as the host chirped about teamwork and audience engagement.
Aria tuned him out, fiddling with her wristband's signal scanner. She'd picked up new interference — faint but repeating. A data loop disguised as production chatter.
Someone was transmitting from inside the contestant zone.
Someone who wasn't supposed to.
She was about to dig deeper when Bianca's voice rang out — loud, dramatic, and dripping with venom.
> "Hey, Aria!"
The cameras whipped toward them.
The audience — both live and digital — collectively leaned in.
> 💬 "OHHH HERE WE GO 😭😭😭"
💬 "Bianca's starting something again. Someone hold her."
💬 "She's gonna regret this in 3...2...1..."
---
Aria turned lazily, coffee mug in hand. "Morning, Bianca. You look... determined. Dangerous. Desperate."
Bianca forced a laugh. "Cute. Still think you're untouchable?"
"Statistically," Aria said, "yes."
The audience howled.
Bianca's eye twitched.
> 💬 "'Statistically yes' 😭😭😭😭"
💬 "She's so casually mean I can't breathe."
💬 "Queen of data-driven insults."
---
Bianca gestured to the director's tablet, which the host now carried like a bomb.
> "Since Miss Lane loves transparency, let's show the fans what she's been hiding."
The host blinked, nervous. "Uh, Bianca—maybe this isn't—"
"Play it," Bianca snapped.
The screen came alive.
At first, it looked like the leaked combat footage — the same viral clip that made Aria famous.
Then the image shifted.
Static.
Distortion.
A fireball consuming a darkened city street.
A familiar voice shouting — "A-01, MOVE!"
The explosion filled the screen.
The image froze on a woman's silhouette — her silhouette — vanishing into flame.
The feed went dead.
---
The entire plaza fell silent.
Even the drones stopped moving.
Bianca smiled triumphantly. "Explain that, Aria. Some say it's from a film set. Others say it's real. Which is it?"
The audience comment feed detonated.
> 💬 "That was NOT a movie clip 😳"
💬 "Did they just show her death?!"
💬 "What the hell kind of show is this???"
Aria's coffee cup hit the ground with a dull thud.
For a second, she didn't breathe.
She just stared at the frozen image still glowing faintly on the big screen.
The same footage she'd seen in the restricted archive.
The same mission.
Her death.
---
Then she laughed.
Softly at first — then sharper, colder.
Everyone stared.
Bianca blinked. "W-what's so funny?"
Aria wiped her eyes, still smiling. "You really thought you could weaponize that?"
"What—what do you mean?"
She took a step forward, every trace of pretense gone. Her voice dropped, calm and deadly.
"I remember every scream, every order, every explosion. You thought showing me that would break me?
Sweetheart, that was the day I earned my freedom."
The crowd murmured. The host took a cautious step back.
> 💬 "CHILLS. ABSOLUTE CHILLS."
💬 "Bianca's gonna evaporate."
💬 "That's not acting. That's a veteran talking."
---
Aria pointed at the screen.
"That footage wasn't from your production servers. You got it from someone outside — someone feeding you Agency files. Congratulations, Bianca. You just leaked classified evidence on live television."
Bianca's smile shattered. "What—no, I—"
Aria tilted her head. "You didn't even ask where they got it, did you?"
> 💬 "THE PLOT THICKENS 😭😭😭😭"
💬 "Bianca's done for omg."
💬 "Aria just flipped the trap in 5 seconds flat."
---
In the control tent, Marcus' phone buzzed violently.
He glanced at the message — and his stomach dropped.
> "SECURITY BREACH DETECTED. DATA ORIGIN: AGENCY NODE."
He whispered, "Oh no. Oh no, no, no…"
The director turned pale. "That wasn't supposed to air! That file wasn't on our system!"
Marcus stared at the monitor — at Aria standing tall, the light behind her turning her into a silhouette of the same woman on the screen moments ago.
"It's not her fault," he said softly.
"She was never meant to die in the first place."
---
Back in the plaza, Aria turned her gaze toward the main camera drone.
Her eyes softened — just a fraction.
"I guess the truth's out," she said quietly. "So let's make it official."
She held up the dagger she'd found. The engraving caught the light — A-01.
"Name's not Aria Lane," she said. "Not really. But she was the first person who ever made me smile. So I'll keep it."
The feed cut instantly.
---
> 💬 "WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY???"
💬 "She admitted it. She actually admitted it."
💬 "This isn't a show anymore, it's a confession."
---
In the forest outside the park, Noah Hale froze mid-step as his earpiece crackled to life.
> "Hale, it's command. Confirmation received. Subject A-01 is active. Proceed with retrieval immediately."
He whispered, "She just burned her cover. On purpose."
Then he smiled — small, tired, proud.
"Yeah. That's my girl."
He chambered his weapon, adjusted his pack, and stepped into the light.
---
Inside the park, Aria stared at the flickering drone light as it powered down.
Her voice, barely above a whisper, carried through the static.
"Your move, Agency."