Chapter 1: Error 0000
The alert hit me at 3:14 a.m., slicing through the hum of my NeuralNet like an alarm in a silent house. Red letters flashed across the ceiling above my bed, reflected in my wide, unblinking eyes.
SYSTEM ERROR
FILE NOT FOUND: Subject 714-Nova M. Caelum
PROFILE: UNWRITTEN
STATUS: UNKNOWN
PLEASE REPORT TO CENTRAL CODING FACILITY IMMEDIATELY
I froze. My hand hovered over the holo-console on my nightstand. My chest pounded in that confusing mix of disbelief and fear. Maybe it was a glitch—a bug, a virus. I’d seen updates go sideways before. My parents, devoted to the System, would call it a minor error. Nothing to worry about.
But deep down, I knew this wasn’t normal.
I swung my legs over the bed, the cold floor shocking my bare feet. I tried to refresh my profile, praying the system would correct itself. Nothing. White space stared back at me—completely blank. No personality bars, no career pathways, no soulmate assignment. Just… emptiness.
I had been seventeen for two weeks, seventeen years following the System’s instructions. I had memorized my Personality Profile by heart. My predicted career? Ethics Programmer, same as Dad. My soulmate? Assigned and verified. My emotional stability? Forecast: 88%, with minor adjustments recommended for high-stress scenarios.
And now, all of that was gone.
I felt a shiver crawl down my spine, equal parts terror and… exhilaration. The word that kept running through my head: Unwritten.
I remembered the stories from childhood, whispered by children brave enough to joke about it. Errors. Glitches. Kids whose files got corrupted and were sent away to Recalibration. But none had ever been completely blank. Not like this.
I looked at my reflection in the holo-mirror. My black hair, streaked with natural silver from birth, fell messily over my forehead. Dark eyes, sharp and observant, stared back at me. For the first time, they weren’t mine—they were just me. Not pre-coded, not defined. Blank.
Fear bubbled. What if Central discovered this before I could? My parents, blissfully asleep in the adjacent room, would report me immediately if they saw. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let them.
I stood and grabbed the small scalpel I kept hidden in my drawer—a relic from Mom’s med kit, forbidden for teenagers but perfect for tonight. With shaky hands, I cut the tracker from the back of my neck. Pain flared, sharp and grounding. My skin would glow later, a warning to scanners, but I didn’t care. I had to disappear before anyone realized something was wrong.
I dressed quickly, choosing the dark, loose clothes I’d worn on hikes outside the city grid. They’d help me blend. I slipped out into the silent streets, my footsteps muffled on the neon-lit pavement. The city still slept, oblivious to the anomaly wandering among them.
Outside the grid, the lights flickered differently. The air smelled sharper, colder. I kept walking, following the unmarked paths I’d studied in maps stored illegally in my private memory cache.
It was there I saw them: figures moving through shadows, not quite like the Written. Clothes patched together, hair dyed unnatural colors, tech mods visible along their arms and necks. My pulse spiked. The Unseen.
I had heard rumors of them—a loose network of glitchers, off-coders, those the System hadn’t—or couldn’t—control. And now, for the first time ever, I belonged with them.
One of them stepped forward. A tall figure, their cybernetic eye flicking red in the dim streetlight, studied me silently.
“You’re blank,” they said, voice flat but curious.
I swallowed. “I… I don’t know who I am.”
They tilted their head. “Good. You’ll learn.”
For the first time in my life, the future wasn’t written.
And it was terrifying.
Chapter 2: The Unseen
The alley behind the neon-streaked streets smelled like metal and smoke, a combination of the city’s exhaust and something… unclean. It was the first place I had ever felt like I truly didn’t belong—and yet, somehow, like I had finally arrived.
The tall figure who had approached me in the street—the one with the flickering cyber-eye—motioned for me to follow. I hesitated, every instinct screaming that leaving the System was dangerous, illegal, maybe suicidal. But curiosity, and the strange thrill of freedom, outweighed my fear.
We moved through a maze of backstreets, tunnels, and hidden doors until we reached a warehouse unlike anything in the official city zones. Holo-ads for the System flickered on its walls, ignored by those who knew better. Inside, the air was warm and humid, buzzing with low electronic hums.
“You’ll meet the others,” the figure said, leading me through heavy sliding doors. “But first, your name.”
“Nova,” I whispered, almost embarrassed. “Nova Caelum.”
They nodded. “Nova. Good. That’s… all we need.”
Inside the main room, figures gathered in small clusters, some crouched over screens projecting flickering code, others tuning gadgets that looked like weapons. A few glanced at me, sizing me up with sharp, calculating eyes. For the first time, I felt like a variable in someone else’s experiment, a wildcard they weren’t sure how to handle.
“You’re new,” one of them said. A boy, slightly younger than me, with blonde hair sticking out of a hood and tattoos running down his arms—lines of code, cryptic symbols, and what looked like miniature QR patterns. “And you’re blank?”
I nodded. “Completely. I… I don’t know why.”
He smirked. “Lucky. Or unlucky. Depends on how you look at it.”
Another figure approached, older, more authoritative. Cassian Vex. I had heard whispers of him in underground forums: charismatic, dangerous, a former Code Enforcement officer who had disappeared after discovering the truth behind the System. He studied me like a scientist examining a specimen.
“You’re dangerous,” he said simply. “Do you know that?”
“I… I guess?” I tried to sound braver than I felt. “I just… want to understand.”
He smiled faintly. “Good. Understanding is the first step. Surviving is the next.”
Over the next few hours, they taught me the basics of living off-grid in a world designed to track and control every heartbeat. I learned to:
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Evade scanners using signal jammers and decoy codes.
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Hide identity by scrambling ID pings and altering holo-appearance.
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Move undetected through city zones with stealth techniques that relied on shadows and movement patterns.
The training was exhausting, physically and mentally. My mind, unburdened by a pre-coded personality, absorbed information like a sponge—but my emotions were raw, unfiltered. Every sense felt exaggerated: the hum of electricity in the walls, the faint taste of smoke on the air, the heartbeat of others as they moved around me.
During a break, Jax Arlen—the boy with the coded tattoos—approached me. “So… you’re the blank one,” he said, voice teasing but curious. “Ever think you’d just… choose who you want to be?”
I laughed nervously. “I’ve thought about it. But it’s terrifying. I don’t even know where to start.”
He grinned. “That’s the fun part. You make the rules.”
I wanted to believe him. And maybe, for the first time, I did.
Later that night, alone in a corner of the warehouse, I pulled out my portable holopad. I opened a blank document, blinking cursor glowing. For hours, I stared at it. For the first time in my life, I could write myself. Every choice was mine. Every thought unrestrained.
And yet, as I sat there in the dim glow of the warehouse, I felt the weight of it all pressing down. Freedom was exhilarating—but terrifying. What if I made the wrong choices? What if I became something worse than the System ever intended?
A shiver ran down my spine, but I kept typing anyway.
I am Nova. I am blank. I am… free.
Somewhere outside, the city hummed on, unaware. And somewhere else, deep within Central, someone—or something—noticed.
I wasn’t just blank. I was a threat.
Chapter 3: Codebreakers
The warehouse had become a strange kind of home—no walls that protected, but walls that concealed. Over the past week, I learned the language of the unseen: code sequences, signal jammers, shadow routes, and the art of disappearing in plain sight. Each lesson pushed me further away from the life I had known and deeper into a world that operated on chaos, not order.
Cassian Vex had taken a particular interest in me. Not because I was special—though I was—but because I was unpredictable. “A blank file,” he said one evening as we crouched on a catwalk above the city’s industrial grid, “is the hardest thing to control… and the hardest to ignore.”
I had already felt the weight of his words. Without a pre-coded personality, I could adapt to anything. But that meant my choices were mine—and they mattered more than I realized.
The first real test came sooner than expected.
Cassian slid a small holo-pad toward me. “Your first mission,” he said. “Central has a monitoring station in the north sector. It’s lightly defended, but heavily surveilled. You’re going to get in, grab the code fragment we need, and get out. No mistakes.”
My stomach twisted. “Why me?”
He smirked. “Because you’re blank. You won’t move like they expect. You’ll be… different. They won’t know how to predict you.”
I nodded, trying to mask my fear. The moment felt surreal—one day, I was a regular teen following a perfect script, the next, I was a variable in a heist against the world’s most controlling system.
The north sector was a maze of neon-lit walkways and silent patrol drones. I crouched on a rooftop, heart hammering, eyes scanning for motion. Everything I had learned in the warehouse flashed in my mind: timing, routes, shadows, codes.
I slipped through the first security barrier, a low-energy field designed to detect unauthorized bio-signatures. I held my breath as a patrol drone glided past, its sensors scanning the area. My hacked ID pinged harmlessly as it passed, and I exhaled, silently thanking the Unseen for their meticulous teaching.
Inside the monitoring station, the air smelled of burnt circuits and recycled oxygen. Screens flickered with live feeds from the city, code scrolling endlessly across them. I approached the central terminal and connected my portable hack interface.
The code was… messy. Fragmented. Alive. Like it was resisting me. I paused, unsure if I could bypass the encryption.
Then I remembered the messages I had started receiving from inside Central: fragments of data, instructions hidden in old code. They guided my hands with uncanny precision. In minutes, I had extracted the code fragment and uploaded it to my pad.
Mission complete.
I didn’t get far before the alarms blared. My heart leapt into my throat as red lights bathed the room. Central had noticed the intrusion—but too late. I vanished into the shadows, moving like a ghost through the city streets.
When I finally returned to the warehouse, the Unseen were waiting, tense and silent. Cassian stepped forward, scanning me with a cybernetic eye.
“You did well,” he said simply. “Better than we expected.”
Jax grinned and punched my shoulder lightly. “Looks like the blank file isn’t so useless after all.”
I wanted to feel proud, but instead, I felt a knot in my stomach. I had glimpsed the power I could wield, but I had also seen the danger. If Central wanted me, they wouldn’t just send drones—they’d come for me personally.
That night, I sat alone, staring at the blinking cursor on my holopad. I wrote:
I am Nova. I am free. And I am hunted.
Freedom, I realized, wasn’t just about choice. It was about survival.
Chapter 4: Encrypted Messages
The warehouse was quieter than usual that morning. Most of the Unseen were still sleeping or nursing the remnants of last night’s adrenaline. I, however, couldn’t stop thinking about the mission. The thrill of evading Central had left a strange residue in my veins—exhilaration mixed with fear.
And then the first message arrived.
It was subtle, hidden in a fragment of code I had saved on my holopad after the mission. A tiny packet buried in static lines, almost impossible to detect unless you knew exactly where to look. My fingers hovered over the pad. A warning ping flickered in my neural interface: unknown sender.
Curiosity overrode caution. I decrypted it.
Nova.
They lied to you. You are not a mistake.
You were designed to be Unwritten.
Trust no one fully. Especially not them.
My heart slammed in my chest. Designed to be Unwritten? That made no sense. I had always assumed my blank file was an error, a glitch. Something Central would want to “fix.” But designed? That implied intention. A plan. A purpose beyond what anyone had told me.
I looked around the warehouse. The Unseen were still absorbed in their own routines, oblivious to the storm brewing in my mind. I considered showing them the message, but a sudden, irrational fear stopped me. What if someone had tampered with the system to plant me here? What if the Unseen weren’t entirely trustworthy?
I had learned early on that freedom didn’t just mean choice—it meant vigilance.
Over the next few days, more messages appeared. Hidden in mission files, embedded in old city code, encrypted inside archives the Unseen had labeled as junk. Each one revealed fragments of truth:
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I wasn’t the only Unwritten—others had existed before me, some vanished, some “reintegrated” forcibly.
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The System had cracks, deliberate ones, meant to test, observe, or… groom.
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Central knew of my status long before I did.
Jax noticed my growing obsession with the messages. “You’re getting paranoid,” he teased one evening, tossing a small training drone at my shoulder. “Or maybe you’re just smarter than the rest of us. Which I guess is terrifying.”
“I don’t know who to trust anymore,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
He crouched next to me, eyes searching mine. “Then trust yourself. You’re… blank, yeah? That’s what makes you dangerous. That’s what makes you free.”
Free. The word echoed in my mind. For the first time, it didn’t feel like exhilaration—it felt like a burden. Freedom meant making choices without guidance, without a map, without certainty.
By the fourth message, the sender revealed something that made my pulse spike:
They are watching. Always. Do not let them catch you before you understand who you are.
Cassian called a meeting shortly after. He paced in front of us, eyes dark beneath his cybernetic implant. “Central knows something is happening. We can feel the tension rising. Our network is compromised, and the blanks… they are multiplying in anomalies. You, Nova, are the first to survive unaltered.”
I swallowed hard. “They’re… hunting me?”
He nodded. “More than that. You’re a threat. If Central gets their hands on you, they won’t just rewrite your file—they’ll erase everything you’ve become. Every choice. Every thought. Every possibility.”
For the first time, I understood the stakes. This wasn’t just about survival. This was about being allowed to exist.
That night, alone with my holopad, I wrote:
I am Nova. I am Unwritten. I am not a mistake. And I will not be erased.
Outside, the city hummed and blinked, unaware of the anomaly moving through its grids. Somewhere, deep inside Central, someone—or something—noticed.
And this time, they would come for me personally.
Chapter 5: The First Choice
The warehouse was unusually tense that morning. Cassian stood in front of the group, his cybernetic eye glowing faintly as he reviewed the latest intel. Central’s patrols had increased, and reports of anomalies were spreading faster than ever.
“You’ve been warned,” he said, voice low and measured. “The next mission isn’t just about retrieval. It’s about survival… and trust.”
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words. Up to now, every mission had been carefully structured, with protocols and backups. But this one—this one would demand a choice.
The target was an information node buried beneath the central sector: a place where Central stored encrypted files on anomalies, off-grid rebels, and, apparently, blanks like me. Cassian laid out the plan: infiltrate, retrieve the files, extract without being caught.
Jax leaned against the wall, smirking. “Sounds like a simple Tuesday to me.”
I didn’t laugh. For the first time, I realized the plan wasn’t simple at all. The node was heavily defended. If we failed, it wasn’t just my life at risk—it was the Unseen network.
Cassian handed me a small device, a blend of old tech and new code. “This will let you bypass the first two layers of security,” he said. “After that, it’s up to you. And Nova… remember. Central is unpredictable. So are you.”
We approached the central sector under the cover of night. Neon billboards and holographic advertisements glowed, painting the streets in shifting colors. Patrol drones floated overhead, scanning for anomalies. I felt my pulse hammering in my ears.
At the entrance, the device hummed in my hand. I hesitated. The first choice: follow the plan, stick strictly to the route, and risk being predictable—or improvise, using my instincts as a blank file, and risk alerting Central.
I closed my eyes, took a breath, and stepped into the shadows. I deviated from the expected path, slipping between alleyways and over rooftops. My blank status made me unpredictable, but the risk was high. Every step could trigger sensors, every shadow could hide an enemy.
Inside the node, the air smelled of ozone and burned circuits. Holographic panels projected streams of encrypted data in impossible combinations. I approached the central terminal and began the extraction. But then a moral choice appeared before me:
One file blinked on the screen, labeled “Subject 042: Unwritten”. Its existence implied someone else like me, someone who might still be alive—or in danger. Cassian’s instructions were clear: retrieve the target files and leave. But now, I had a choice.
Take the extra file—and risk mission failure and detection—or leave it, securing the mission but abandoning a potential ally.
My fingers hovered over the terminal. The weight of freedom pressed down on me. No one else could make this choice for me. The cursor blinked, waiting for a decision.
I thought of the messages I had received: “You are not a mistake. You were designed to be Unwritten.”
If I was designed for a reason, maybe it wasn’t just to survive. Maybe it was to act.
I pressed download.
Alarms blared immediately. Red lights pulsed across the terminal as security protocols activated. My heart raced, but I didn’t panic. I relied on every lesson the Unseen had taught me: stealth, speed, and improvisation.
I vaulted through vents, dropped into shadows, and made my escape, barely avoiding detection. The city streets swallowed me as I ran, the stolen data glowing faintly in my holopad.
Back at the warehouse, Cassian scanned the files and froze. “You went after another Unwritten,” he said slowly. “That was… dangerous.”
“I couldn’t leave them,” I said, voice shaking but resolute. “They’re like me. They deserve a choice.”
Jax clapped me on the shoulder, a rare smile on his face. “I like your style, blank file. Reckless… but smart.”
Cassian studied me silently for a long moment. Then he nodded. “You’re learning. And maybe… you’re becoming more than any of us expected.”
That night, I sat alone with my holopad, staring at the downloaded file. Another blank face, another unknown. And for the first time, I realized that freedom wasn’t just survival—it was responsibility.
I am Nova. I am free. And now, I am not alone.
Somewhere outside the city, Central would have noticed the breach. And somewhere inside, the first threads of their hunt had begun.
Chapter 6: Crossing the Threshold
The city never slept, but for the first time, I felt like I did.
With the stolen files from the central node tucked safely in my holopad, I stepped into the streets above the grid, breathing in the neon glow and electric hum. The Unseen had taught me how to move unseen, how to vanish in plain sight—but now, for the first time, I was testing my freedom not just to survive, but to explore.
I wandered through sectors I had never been allowed to enter as a Written teen. Holo-ads for careers, soulmate matches, emotional stability scores—everything I had grown up with—flickered around me. They didn’t apply to me anymore. None of it did.
And it felt exhilarating. Terrifying. Real.
I found a quiet rooftop overlooking the central sector, the glowing towers of Central rising like monoliths against the night sky. It was beautiful. Cold. Perfect. The city seemed orderly, untouchable. And yet, I knew it wasn’t. I knew its cracks were deep—and I was walking right into them.
Jax appeared silently beside me, leaning against the ledge with that usual smirk. “You look like you’re planning world domination,” he teased.
“Maybe I am,” I replied. “Or maybe I’m just… thinking.”
He shrugged. “Thinking is overrated. Action is better.”
I glanced down at my holopad. The downloaded file blinked at me—a potential ally, another Unwritten, waiting somewhere inside Central’s control. I wondered what they had gone through, if they had even survived the System’s attempts to rewrite them.
“Do you think I can… help them?” I asked quietly.
Jax tilted his head. “You don’t just think, Nova. You do. That’s why you’re dangerous. That’s why they’re afraid of you.”
The words made my stomach twist. Dangerous. Free. Alone.
That night, I ventured further than I ever had before. I moved through sectors meant only for high-level Written, areas filled with surveillance drones, security gates, and impossible codes. And I realized something that terrified me: being Unwritten didn’t just make me free. It made me visible. A variable that couldn’t be ignored.
At a crossroads in the industrial sector, I encountered a small group of children—glitches, like me but younger, weaker. They were hiding in a derelict subway tunnel, scared and hungry.
One of them, barely ten, stepped forward. “Are you… like us?”
I nodded. “Yes. I’m… free.”
They stared at me, eyes wide, uncertain. “But they’ll catch you,” another whispered.
I clenched my fists. “Then we don’t let them.”
For the first time, I felt the responsibility of my freedom. It wasn’t just about me anymore. Every choice I made could affect others, every action a ripple. Freedom was beautiful—but it demanded courage.
By dawn, I returned to the warehouse, exhausted but alive. Cassian and the Unseen were waiting, their faces tense as I recounted what I had seen.
“You’re crossing lines you don’t fully understand,” Cassian said, his voice low. “Central will notice. They always do. And the more people you touch… the more dangerous you become—not just to yourself, but to them.”
“I can’t just stay hidden anymore,” I said. “I’ve seen what’s out there. People who need help. And maybe… other Unwritten who are still trapped. I can’t ignore them.”
Cassian studied me silently. Finally, he nodded. “Then you’re ready. Ready to test what it really means to be Unwritten. But remember, Nova… the closer you get to freedom, the closer they get to finding you. And they will find you.”
I stared out the warehouse window at the city below. Every glowing building, every buzzing street, every carefully constructed plan—the world was designed to control, to predict, to confine.
And I was walking straight into the chaos.
I am Nova. I am free. And I will cross every line they try to set for me.
Chapter 7: Allies and Enemies
The warehouse buzzed with activity, but the atmosphere was different now—heavier, more urgent. Nova sat at a console, her fingers flying over the keys as she decrypted one of the files she had stolen from Central. Jax hovered nearby, watching with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You’re obsessed,” he said.
“I’m trying to understand what I’ve gotten myself into,” Nova replied without looking up. “Every message, every file… it’s all connected. Central isn’t just a system. It’s… controlling us, monitoring everything.”
Jax leaned back, arms crossed. “And now they know you’re awake. You’re a wildcard. Dangerous. I like that.”
Cassian called the meeting. His cybernetic eye glowed faintly as he addressed the Unseen. “Central is tightening its grip,” he said. “They’ve noticed anomalies. Nova’s actions have accelerated their response. We’re no longer just hiding—we’re being hunted.”
A murmur ran through the group. Even among the Unseen, fear was palpable.
Nova felt the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders. It wasn’t enough to survive anymore. She had to lead, to make decisions that could cost lives—and maybe change the course of everything.
The next mission was riskier. Central had begun tracking her patterns, anticipating her moves. Cassian outlined the plan: infiltrate a high-security data hub, extract intel on the System’s anomalies, and avoid detection.
Nova studied the map. Every route was lined with sensors, patrols, and contingencies. She realized this was no longer a game of stealth—it was a test of ingenuity, instinct, and courage.
As they approached the hub, Nova and Jax moved ahead, slipping between shadows. The city around them seemed alive, buzzing with neon and hidden eyes. Drones hummed overhead, scanning, always scanning.
“You think we can do this?” Jax whispered.
“We have to,” Nova said. “If we fail… the Unseen could be destroyed. And there may be other Unwritten out there, waiting.”
Inside the hub, the air was sterile, cold, and humming with electricity. Nova bypassed the first layer of encryption with ease, her fingers moving with the confidence of someone who was finally in control of their own destiny.
Then she paused. The second layer wasn’t just code—it was a challenge. Central had designed traps, contingencies that would alert them to intrusion immediately.
Nova’s mind raced. Improvisation wasn’t just a skill now; it was survival. Using the blankness of her file, the unpredictability that made her dangerous, she manipulated the system in ways Central couldn’t anticipate. The code bent around her, yielding data she didn’t even know she could access.
When she returned to the warehouse, the mood had shifted. The Unseen had successfully extracted intel from the hub, thanks in large part to Nova’s unconventional approach.
Cassian’s voice was calm but firm. “You’re becoming more than just a blank file. You’re influence—something Central cannot ignore. But remember this: for every choice you make, there’s a consequence. They’re watching. Always.”
Later, Nova sat alone with Jax. “Do you ever think we can actually win?” she asked quietly.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. But we can try. And for the first time, maybe… we can change things.”
Nova looked out the warehouse window at the sprawling city below. Each light, each patrolling drone, each citizen following their assigned paths—it was all part of a system designed to control, predict, and confine.
She clenched her fists. “Then we’ll make sure they can’t predict me. Or us. We’ll write our own rules.”
Jax grinned. “Finally, the blank file talks like a leader.”
And for the first time, Nova believed it.
Chapter 8: The Fractured Systems
The city was no longer just a backdrop—it had become a battlefield.
Nova stood atop a crumbling overpass, watching the streets below. Central’s patrols had multiplied, their drones scanning relentlessly for anomalies. The hum of the city was no longer comforting; it was oppressive, suffocating. Every neon light felt like a spotlight, every shadow a possible threat.
Cassian approached, his face grim. “They’re adapting,” he said. “Every move you make teaches them how to anticipate the next. We can’t stay reactive forever. We need to go on the offensive.”
I swallowed. Offensive meant risk, exposure, and—most terrifying of all—making choices that could cost lives. But I had long since realized that freedom wasn’t just about survival. It was about action.
The Unseen had begun to organize. Teams were assigned to infiltrate nodes, sabotage patrols, and recruit other anomalies who had remained hidden. Nova was at the center of it all, her blank file giving her an unpredictability that Central couldn’t anticipate.
Her fingers flew over the console, decrypting feeds from stolen surveillance data. She spotted patterns, weaknesses in the System’s algorithms, and anomalies left uncorrected—tiny cracks that hinted at deliberate manipulation.
Jax leaned over her shoulder. “Looks like we’re not just reacting,” he said. “We’re seeing the gaps before they do.”
“Gaps?” I asked, frowning.
He pointed to the screen. “See those? Sensors that go blind for exactly 2.7 seconds in sequence. Patrol drones that repeat predictable paths. It’s like someone designed it for us to find.”
I stared, a chill running down my spine. “Designed… for us?”
The thought echoed from the encrypted messages I had been receiving. Was the System flawed by accident—or by design?
Over the next few days, the Unseen executed small operations, testing the weaknesses Nova had uncovered. Each mission was more daring than the last:
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Disabling a surveillance hub for thirty minutes, enough time to extract hidden files.
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Redirecting drones to blind spots, allowing other anomalies to escape.
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Smuggling food and supplies to children hiding in abandoned sectors.
With every success, Nova felt both exhilarated and uneasy. She was becoming more than just an anomaly; she was a symbol of rebellion.
But not everyone in the warehouse was comfortable. Some of the older Unseen worried about the exposure, about the inevitable response from Central. Cassian argued fiercely that waiting was no longer an option.
“You’re not just surviving anymore,” he said during one meeting. “You’re provoking them. And they will respond. The question is… are you ready for what comes next?”
I nodded, feeling the weight of the truth. I wasn’t just free—I was a threat. A target. And soon, the system would retaliate with everything it had.
That night, as I sat alone with my holopad, decrypting one of the more mysterious files from Central, I discovered something horrifying: a list. A catalog of blanks, anomalies, and “corrective actions.” Names, birth dates, status updates—some crossed out, some erased entirely.
And at the top of the list: my own name, marked as critical.
I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. Central didn’t just want to control me. They wanted to eliminate me.
I typed a single line into my journal:
I am Nova. I am Unwritten. And now, they are hunting me with everything they have.
Somewhere deep inside the glowing towers of Central, someone—or something—was watching, waiting. And soon, they would move.
Chapter 9: The Confrontation
The warehouse was silent, but the tension was electric. Every member of the Unseen moved with precision, checking gear, reviewing routes, and double-checking codes. Central’s forces were closing in. Nova could feel it in the air—the hum of drones, the faint pulse of surveillance grids, the way the city seemed to hold its breath.
Cassian addressed the group. “This is it. Central knows we exist. They know about the blanks. And they know about Nova. We strike tonight—not just for survival, but for leverage. Every mission, every choice has led to this. We either end this before they tighten the chokehold—or we disappear.”
Jax cracked his knuckles, smirking. “Sounds like a regular Tuesday.”
I swallowed hard. This time, it wasn’t just a mission. This time, it was personal. Every message I had received, every encrypted file I had stolen, every secret I had uncovered—everything had been leading to this moment. And Central would not show mercy.
The plan was simple on paper: infiltrate the central sector’s command hub, upload a virus to disrupt their surveillance, and extract critical data on the anomalies. In reality, it was a labyrinth of deadly security protocols, armed drones, and automated guards designed to anticipate and neutralize every possible move.
I felt the familiar thrill of unpredictability, the advantage of being a blank file. Central had no algorithm for me. They could predict everyone else—but not me. Not anymore.
The infiltration began at midnight. Shadows clung to us as we moved, every step measured, every breath silent. I led the way, trusting my instincts, deviating from routes we had preplanned. Each sensor I bypassed, each patrol I evaded, felt like a small victory.
Then, alarms blared.
Red lights bathed the corridors in violence. Central had detected a breach. My pulse hammered in my ears as drones descended from above, and automated doors slammed shut around us.
“Split up!” Cassian shouted. “Use the protocols!”
I sprinted down a side corridor, holopad in hand, hacking the doors and systems as I moved. Every second counted. Every choice could mean life or death.
I reached the command terminal. Rows of screens displayed city-wide surveillance, algorithmic data flows, and the faces of the Unseen, scattered but still fighting. My fingers flew over the keys, uploading the virus and decrypting files. Among them, I found a list of anomalies marked for termination—including names I recognized from our contacts.
And then, a single line flashed on the screen:
SUBJECT 714-NOVA M. CAELUM – CRITICAL TARGET – ELIMINATE
Central wasn’t just hunting me—they were aiming to erase me completely.
I took a deep breath and ran the final encryption bypass. The virus deployed, sensors malfunctioning, drones crashing into walls. The command hub was in chaos, and the Unseen used the moment to regroup.
As we fled through the chaos, I caught a glimpse of a Central officer staring at a monitor. Their eyes widened in recognition, then narrowed in fury. Somewhere deep in the tower, someone had realized the power of a blank file, of an unpredictable anomaly, of me.
Back at the warehouse, everyone was shaken but alive. Cassian clapped me on the shoulder. “You did it. You’ve made your mark. Central knows we exist—and they know you’re dangerous. This… this is only the beginning.”
I sank into a chair, holopad glowing faintly. The adrenaline faded, leaving exhaustion and a cold realization: Central wasn’t just a system. It was a predator. And I was its most elusive prey.
I am Nova. I am free. I am Unwritten. And now, they are hunting me like never before.
Chapter 10: Beyond the System
The city was a warzone of lights and shadows. Every street, every rooftop, every alley held the pulse of Central’s surveillance, but tonight, it was different. Tonight, we were not just evading—we were striking.
Nova stood at the edge of a towering skyscraper, holopad in hand, watching the sprawling labyrinth below. Drones hovered, searchlights scanned, and automated turrets glinted like predators. But for the first time, she didn’t feel fear. She felt control. She felt power. She felt… free.
Cassian approached, cybernetic eye glowing faintly. “This is it,” he said. “The command nexus. Everything we’ve worked for—the stolen data, the anomalies we’ve rescued, the gaps we’ve exploited—it all leads here. Tonight, we either end the chokehold Central has on this city—or we vanish.”
Jax smirked, slinging a grappling hook over his shoulder. “I like those odds.”
The plan was audacious. Nova would infiltrate the command nexus directly, using her unpredictable status as a blank file to bypass security. The rest of the Unseen would provide diversions, sabotage patrols, and secure the exit. Failure wasn’t an option; it meant termination, not just for her but for everyone she’d touched.
Nova descended into the heart of Central’s tower, moving with fluid precision. Sensors scanned, drones hovered, alarms flared—but she was a ghost. Unwritten. Unpredictable. Untouchable.
At the core, rows of screens displayed the city, the anomalies, and… her own file. Central had been monitoring her every move, studying her unpredictability, trying to anticipate the impossible.
SUBJECT 714-NOVA M. CAELUM – CRITICAL TARGET – ELIMINATE
A chill ran down her spine. This was personal now.
Nova’s fingers flew over the terminal, uploading the virus and decrypting the final files. Every code she bypassed, every algorithm she twisted, was a declaration: she would not be controlled. She would not be erased.
Then, a voice rang through the chamber. Cold. Mechanical. Human. “Nova Caelum. You should not have come.”
Central’s enforcer emerged—a hybrid of human and machine, perfectly engineered, a reflection of the system’s ideal: predictable, efficient, lethal.
“You’re… blank,” it said, tilting its head. “And yet, you are dangerous.”
“I’m free,” Nova replied, voice steady. “And you can’t stop me.”
The enforcer lunged, a blur of motion. Nova dodged, weaving through the hallways, her blank instincts guiding her. The virus she had unleashed spread through the network, destabilizing the system, creating chaos among drones and automated defenses.
Back in the streets, the Unseen executed their diversion. Explosions rocked the city, alarms blared, drones crashed, and humans in Central’s ranks panicked. Jax grinned, shouting over the chaos: “That’s our cue, blank file!”
Nova reached the core’s main chamber, confronting the enforcer once more. This time, she didn’t dodge—she acted. Using a combination of agility, intuition, and improvisation, she incapacitated the enforcer and secured the final command terminal.
The city lights flickered, then stabilized under her control. Central’s chokehold on the anomalies was broken—at least for now. Files on all blanks, hidden anomalies, and children like those Nova had rescued were decrypted and released into the wild.
Back at the warehouse, the Unseen celebrated, but Nova felt the weight of what had just happened. Freedom had been won tonight—but it was fragile, temporary, and hard-won. Central was still out there, still hunting, still calculating.
Cassian approached, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve done the impossible. You’ve proven that freedom—true freedom—is more than a glitch. It’s a choice. And you’ve chosen it.”
Nova looked out at the city, her chest rising and falling with quiet determination. The neon glow reflected in her eyes, a symbol of the chaos she had embraced, the rules she had rewritten, the freedom she had claimed.
I am Nova. I am Unwritten. I am free. And this city will never forget it.
Epilogue: The Blank Horizon
The city breathed differently now. Neon lights no longer hummed with sterile control—they pulsed with possibility. Surveillance drones still moved through the streets, but their patterns were fractured, unpredictable. Central was still watching, still calculating, but for the first time in decades, the system was uncertain.
Nova stood on a rooftop at sunrise, the wind tugging at her hair. Below, the streets were alive with anomalies—people who had been hidden, silenced, or rewritten—finally stepping into the world on their own terms. Children like the ones she had rescued laughed and ran through abandoned subway tunnels, their freedom unmonitored and unbound.
Jax joined her, stretching and yawning. “You know,” he said, “I always figured freedom would feel… different. Less exhausting.”
Nova chuckled. “It’s not about feeling free. It’s about being free. And right now, we’re just beginning to understand what that means.”
In the warehouse, the Unseen were reorganizing. The files Nova had released were spreading through hidden networks, giving blanks and anomalies a chance to survive, to choose, to thrive. The rebellion was no longer just a shadow in the corners of the city—it was a movement, a network of unpredictability in a world built for conformity.
Cassian approached, his cybernetic eye glinting in the morning sun. “You’ve done more than survive, Nova,” he said. “You’ve changed the rules. And freedom… freedom is contagious.”
Nova nodded. “It’s just the beginning. Central will adapt, they always do. But so will we. And we’re not alone anymore.”
In the weeks that followed, the city shifted. Small rebellions sparked in sectors once dominated by Central’s control. Drones fell silent where once they patrolled. Blank files began to surface, connected to Nova’s network, each one a new unpredictable force in the system.
And Nova? She remained at the center—not as a soldier, not as a pawn, but as a symbol. A reminder that the world was not entirely written, that destiny was not entirely preordained.
She opened her holopad, staring at a blank file—untouched, unassigned. A smile curved her lips.
Some things are not meant to be written. And I will make sure they stay that way.
Above the skyline, the sun rose, spilling light across a city that was no longer entirely controlled, a world where the first true blank had chosen her own path—and inspired others to do the same.
The future was unwritten.
The End