What if the best way to disappear was to show yourself?
Groundward knew how to recognize the arrival of the Watchers. It was never announced. No alert on public screens, no official message, no siren. Programs continued, advertisements scrolled by, and transportation followed its routes as if nothing had changed.
But in the streets, doors closed a little faster.
Conversations grew shorter. Some vendors packed up their stalls without waiting for nightfall. Children were called back inside and, behind the windows, lights went out in apartments that were still occupied.
Numa watched the street through the gap in the blind he had just lowered.
"They're here."
Soren didn't move. Sitting, her back against an old metal cabinet, she stared at the screen in front of her. Three maps of Groundward were superimposed on it, crossed by red lines appearing one after another.
"I know."
Numa turned around.
"How many?"
"I don't know yet."
"That's not an answer."
"It's still the only one I have."
She enlarged an area. One camera had just disappeared from the network, then another. It wasn't a malfunction. They were going to shut them all down.
Numa moved closer.
"They're clearing the sectors before moving through."
"Yes."
Soren followed the silent progression of the shutdowns.
"They're closing the city's eyes to open their own."
Numa stood in front of the screen for a few seconds. He knew Biel's tracking methods. He had studied them, used them sometimes, often worked around them.
But the Watchers were something else. A unit that wasn't deployed to arrest someone. They were sent when Kaïssa wanted a person to stop having a choice.
A new red line appeared, closer.
"We move."
Soren finally looked up at him.
"Not yet."
"Soren."
"If we leave now, they'll see us leave."
"And if we stay?"
She looked at the map.
"They'll see us stay."
"Great."
Numa ran a hand over his face.
"So what's your plan? Let them shut down the entire sector?"
Soren didn't answer right away.
Numa picked up a water bottle resting against the wall and handed it to her.
"Drink a little."
"I'll be fine."
"No, you won't."
She hesitated for a second, then finally took the bottle.
Two sips, no more.
"Thank you."
Numa took the bottle back with a slight smile.
"Now you can go back to saving the world."
Soren discreetly shook her head, then slowly stood up.
"Understand what they're looking for."
Numa stared at her.
"You."
"No."
"Your face is probably displayed in all their augmented retinas through their helmets, and you're telling me they're not looking for you?"
"They're looking for me, yes. But Kaïssa doesn't deploy the Watchers just to bring me back to her office."
Soren moved closer to the screen and brought up a second set of data.
"Look."
Numa leaned closer.
"Drones."
"A lot of drones."
The dots formed an irregular line around the Wall.
"They're not above Groundward," Soren continued, "not all of them. A large number are already sweeping the outer sectors."
"Neris. Kaïssa thinks I know where she is."
"Do you?"
This time, Soren looked at him.
"No. I've kept my distance lately."
A silence.
"But I know where she might try to go."
Her gaze remained lost on the map for a second, as if she hoped she was wrong.
"The forest. The Alliance."
Soren abruptly closed the map.
"Don't say that word here."
"We're alone."
"We're never alone in Biel."
Numa looked around him.
The small apartment looked as though it had been empty for years. The walls still bore traces of old screens that had been torn away, and a water pipe vibrated behind a partition.
"You just made me cross three basements, an abandoned laundromat, and a technical duct that smelled like death. If Kaïssa can still hear us here, I suggest we give up right now."
Soren didn't smile. She was looking at the map again.
"If I leave Biel now and they follow me, I'll lead them exactly where they want to go."
"Then we lose them first."
"They're not drones, Numa."
"I know."
She moved closer to the window without touching the blind.
"A drone follows a signal. A Watcher follows what you do to avoid leaving a signal."
Numa remained silent.
"He watches the places you avoid, the habits you change, the people who close their doors when you pass. He doesn't need to see you. He waits for someone to be afraid for you."
She turned around.
"And Groundward is full of people who are afraid."
Blade walked slowly down an almost empty street. He didn't need to run.
Around him, three Watchers moved forward at regular intervals.
No official uniforms. Dark clothing, reinforced in certain places, discreet interfaces along the back of their necks and behind their ears.
They could have looked like almost ordinary humans.
Blade stopped in front of a door. An old woman was watching him from behind her window. As soon as their eyes met, she disappeared.
"Sector eight cleared," a voice announced directly in his ear.
Blade didn't answer. His gaze followed the facades. A light had just gone out on the third floor.
Too late.
He raised two fingers slightly. A Watcher immediately changed direction.
"Apartment 3-17."
"Thermal signature?"
"Four people."
"Identities?"
The information appeared in his field of vision. Blade went through it. No direct connection to Soren. Yet he continued to watch the window.
"They turned off the light when they saw me."
"Standard fear response."
"No."
Blade tilted his head slightly.
"Standard fear closes the curtains before turning off the light."
The Watcher remained silent.
"Check."
Then Blade resumed walking. It was almost never the person being hunted who made the mistake. It was the others. Those who wanted to help. Those who looked too long. Those who suddenly did something they never did.
A door locked at an unusual hour. Electricity consumption interrupted. A daily route altered by a few meters.
Humans left traces everywhere. Especially when they tried to disappear.
An image appeared in his vision.
Soren, then another one, Neris.
For now, Neris was out of reach. Soren, however, was still somewhere in the city.
"Movement in sector twelve," a voice announced.
"Nature?"
"Camera disabled eleven seconds ago."
Blade stared at the point that had appeared in his vision.
"Finally. Let's go."
About ten minutes later, the first door gave way without a sound.
Numa suddenly looked up from his screen.
"Did you see that?"
Soren was already standing. A red dot had just appeared on the screen, then a second.
"They found the relay."
"Which one?"
"The one we used yesterday."
Numa swore.
"We're leaving."
This time, Soren didn't argue. She grabbed her bag and wiped the screen with a gesture. The maps disappeared. The data fragmented before becoming unreadable.
"Back exit?"
"Too obvious."
"Roof?"
"Even more."
Numa opened a small hatch near the floor.
"Technical duct."
Soren looked at him.
"The one that smells like death?"
"You see, I'm starting to appreciate your routes."
They climbed down.
The passage was narrow, damp, and almost completely dark. Numa went first, a small light between his fingers. Behind him, Soren said nothing.
They had gone about twenty meters when she suddenly stopped.
"What?"
"Turn it off."
"What?"
"The light."
Numa obeyed.
The darkness swallowed them.
A few seconds later, something vibrated very faintly above them: slow, regular footsteps.
Then a voice, muffled by the duct.
"Two possible exits."
Soren placed a hand on his arm.
"Don't move."
The footsteps stopped directly above them.
Numa felt his heart pounding in his chest.
One second, two, then the footsteps started again.
They waited a long time.
When Soren finally released his arm, Numa whispered:
"Was that him?"
"I don't know."
They started moving again.
The duct opened behind an old distribution center, two streets away. Numa slowly lifted the grate.
No one.
They climbed out.
Groundward seemed even quieter.
Soren watched the streets.
"They're going to close the neighborhood."
"How long?"
"An hour. Maybe less."
"Then where do we go?"
She watched a public screen at the end of the street. An advertisement continued to smile from it, then the image flickered.
For just a second, Soren's face appeared.
PRIORITY SEARCH.
The screen immediately returned to the advertisement.
Numa felt his stomach tighten.
"They're displaying you now."
Soren remained still.
Farther away, one door closed, then another.
"We can't stay here anymore."
"I know."
She watched the screen for a few more seconds before continuing in a calm voice:
"Listen to me carefully."
Numa waited.
"I need to show myself."
Silence fell between them.
"No."
"It's the only way to draw them in."
"And then?"
Soren discreetly pointed toward the street that led down to the old tunnels.
"As soon as I disappear..."
She looked up at him.
"...you run."
Numa frowned.
"The tunnels?"
She nodded.
"They've been sealed off for years."
"Blade knows that."
Numa remained silent for a second, then he understood.
"You want them to think it's you."
Soren didn't answer. Her gaze was enough.
"They don't know there are two of us," she murmured. "They'll see one target... then someone running away. Blade will never let that opportunity pass."
"And you?"
She slowly turned her eyes west, toward the dark line of the Wall.
"While they're following you..."
She paused briefly.
"...I'll take another route."
Numa shook his head.
"What if I get caught?"
This time, a very slight smile crossed Soren's face.
"You'll improvise."
Numa exhaled despite himself.
"You know you're impossible?"
"That's what I'm often told."
In the distance, a metallic sound echoed through the street. This time, it was much closer. Two figures appeared at the end of the avenue, then a third.
Soren slowly inhaled.
"Now."
She stepped out of the shadows, for one second, then another. She deliberately turned her face toward the camera mounted on the corner of the building.
The alert was triggered immediately.
PRIORITY SEARCH.
Soren immediately slipped back behind the wall.
"Go."
Numa adjusted his hood, clenched his teeth, and ran toward the street leading to the old tunnels.
From that point on, the cameras would no longer see his face. Only a fleeing figure.
A few seconds later, Blade watched a new point begin to move on his map.
His gaze fixed on the point.
"Found her."
The Guardian Angel: In ancient traditions, the Alliance referred to the sacred bond that united the different kingdoms of creation. Humanity holds a particular place within it: that of an intermediary between the visible and invisible worlds.
Some have crossed the ages while preserving the memory of this Alliance and seeking to protect it.