VYRE CITY – THREE WEEKS LATER
The air in Vyre had shifted.
Posters filled the streets. Handwritten signs. Angry chants. Faces covered in scarves and masks. Drone footage panned over packed roads outside City Hall—people yelling, marching, waving signs that read:
NO TO HELIOS
WE'RE NOT CODE
THIS CITY DOESN'T NEED A WATCHDOG
There were livestreamers walking backwards with their phones, shouting into cameras. Journalists fighting for angles. Riot drones circling quietly overhead. And in the middle of it all, one word floated on every lip, every headline, every protest:
HELIOS.
It had started the moment Bruce made the system public.
He'd called it a "leap forward," a "protective grid," a "technological shield." He had released a fancy, minimalistic promo video—black and gold with a sleek voiceover and dramatic string music. It went viral.
But then people started asking questions.
What does "real-time surveillance" mean?
What does "predictive threat modeling" include?
What happens when HELIOS decides someone's a problem?
And just like that, fear spread like mold.
Now, reporters waited outside the gates of Dhark Tower. Hackers tried to breach HELIOS just to prove it could be done. Privacy activists released open letters. And City Hall was buried in demands for hearings, shutdowns, oversight boards.
Bruce stayed quiet.
Until they dragged Diana into it.
That was the mistake.
CITY HALL – PRIVATE OFFICE
Diana slammed the door so hard the sound echoed down the marble hall. She stormed in, heels clicking like gunshots on the floor.
Bruce stood near the window, watching the skyline. He didn't flinch when the door hit the wall. Didn't move when she marched up behind him, red coat billowing like a war banner.
"You arrogant little bastard!" she shouted.
Bruce blinked, slow. "Hi, Diana."
She grabbed a paperweight from the desk and slammed it down. "Don't 'hi' me. I've got senators clawing down my inbox. Protesters are screaming your name on my lawn. And the moment I try to push for international talks, all anyone wants to ask me is about HELIOS and my 'technocrat vigilante of a son-in-law.'"
Bruce finally turned. Calm. Quiet. Tired.
"You knew I was building it."
"You said you were prototyping! Not shoving an omnipresent AI down the city's throat!" Her voice cracked, not from weakness—but from how hard she was holding it back.
Bruce walked over to the desk and flipped open a folder. Inside—footage. A man pulling a knife in a subway station. HELIOS flagged him before he even drew it. The guards arrived in twelve seconds. No injuries.
He slid it across the desk.
Diana didn't even look at it.
"I have enough on my plate with the Five Fingers and this invisible Hand you've been so quiet about," she hissed. "You wanna run black ops, fine. But don't bring it into my house. Don't make me the face of your goddamn machine."
Bruce met her eyes.
"I told you I'd handle it."
Silence stretched long between them.
She exhaled. Shaky.
"You're not God, Bruce. So stop acting like one."
Bruce looked down at the folder.
Then he whispered, "I never said I was one either, I'm more like the worst nightmare."
That made her freeze.
"…Get out of my office."
Bruce nodded once. Quiet. Then walked out without another word.
PRESS CONFERENCE – LATER THAT WEEK
The auditorium was packed. Journalists elbowed for space. Camera drones hovered like mosquitoes. The city seal gleamed gold above the stage, but no one looked at it.
They were all looking at Bruce Dhark.
He stood alone at the podium. No security beside him. No politician to shield him. Just the man himself, sleeves rolled again, top button undone, same as ever. The screen behind him showed nothing but a single glowing word:
HELIOS.
He waited. Let the flashes pop. Let the buzz build.
Then he leaned into the mic.
"You're scared."
The room quieted like someone cut the sound.
"You think HELIOS is watching your every move. You think I built a machine to control your lives. You think I'm some cold tyrant with too much money and no leash."
He looked around. No smile. No blink.
"You're not wrong to be afraid."
Murmurs.
"But let me tell you what I see when I look at Vyre."
The screen behind him changed.
Footage. Blurry, raw. A little girl stuck in a burning apartment. A HELIOS drone crashing through the window to pull her out.
Next clip. A man in a park, backpack rigged with explosives. HELIOS flagged it. Police arrived without sirens. Took him down without firing a shot.
Then a blackout—citywide grid failure simulation.
HELIOS lit up the backup systems. Routed emergency signals. Hospitals stayed online. Not a single ICU patient died.
Bruce kept talking. Calm. Human.
"I see a city that's too fast, too big, too connected to be protected by old ideas. I see a system where crime is faster than response. Where killers wear masks and vanish into air. Where gangs talk in code and cops can't even read it."
Final image: a map of Vyre glowing in soft light. Each sector pulsing with live feed. It didn't look cold. It looked alive.
"I didn't build HELIOS to spy. I built it to see what we can't. To react when no one else can. To guard what matters most when we're too slow to do it ourselves."
He stepped back from the podium.
"I don't expect your trust. I don't want your worship. But I will not apologize for protecting the city I was born in, bled for, and buried too many friends in."
Journalists started shouting questions.
"Is HELIOS armed?!"
"Do you have override control?!"
"Is this the start of martial law?!"
Bruce raised a hand. They stopped.
He tapped the screen one more time.
A final quote appeared behind him. His voice read it aloud:
> "An open eye sees danger. A closed one sees regret."
He let it hang.
Then stepped down.
BACK AT DHARK TOWER
Night again. Rain again.
Bruce sat in his office, tie off, collar open, staring at a live feed of the city. HELIOS pulsed in the corner. Calm. Quiet. Waiting.
The door creaked open.
It was the girl from the lab—the one with the bomber jacket.
"You were trending. Number one."
He didn't answer.
She stepped inside.
"…They still hate you."
"I'd be worried if they didn't."
She looked at the screen.
"HELIOS sees everything now."
Bruce sipped cold coffee.
"It always did."
"Still doesn't explain the Five."
Bruce didn't respond.
But his eyes flicked toward a hidden panel on the wall. Behind it, five lights. All glowing green.
All active.
The Five was still moving in the dark.
HELIOS was watching in the light.
And Bruce Dhark?
He was somewhere in between.