NOVEL WEB Chapter 13: The Aftermath of the talk
Jasper's POV:
Dusk bled orange into the smog over Eastern Market as I crouched behind a collapsed stall, the ghost of Noctis' parting words—"You'll run out of time before you run out of enemies"—buzzing in my mind like a trapped wasp. The enigmatic child had vanished, leaving behind only a hastily scrawled map etched onto the warehouse floor.
My hand tightened around a rusted pipe. My gaze followed the hulking form of a Goliath enforcer, each heavy step stirring clouds of ash—the same ash Noctis had used to trace his visionary plans.
"Control the supply lines," echoed Noctis' voice, igniting an idea that blazed brighter than my fear.
"Jas!" Zara's urgent whisper snapped me back. She pointed to a discarded crate, where mold-speckled contents offered a meager yet vital feast. But even as the Rats moved to scavenge, my eyes were drawn to the grimy window of the butcher's shop across the street. There, a ledger lay open—its pages stained with grease and secrets.
Noctis had once said, "Information is an army." Tonight, Jasper vowed, would be the night we change.
Toby's POV:
Before dawn, my stomach growled louder than the city's stray dogs. Stationed by the battered baker's back door, I remembered Noctis' eerie admonition: "We can't let someone like The Goliath steal the table while we're left scavenging for crumbs." The words both inspired me and stoked my dread.
A creak in the lock spurred me into action. With swift, desperate precision, I snatched two burnt rolls from a cooling rack. The heat bit into my palms as I tore into one charred crust, the bitterness of the bread mingling with guilt.
"If we follow his madness, we die," I muttered, clenching the second roll tightly. Even a stolen crumb, I realized, might someday mean the difference between survival and a slow, inevitable demise.
Aria's POV:
High above on a deserted rooftop garden, I knelt amid barren, cracked soil. My knife bit into the earth, unearthing a thin, brittle root—a scant meal in a place where life had been squeezed dry. Behind me, Mira's labored cough punctuated the silence, a stark reminder of the fragility that plagued their world.
"Here," I said softly, tossing the root to Mira with a command that brooked no argument. As Mira grimaced while chewing, my thoughts drifted back to Noctis. The child's intense stare had once unsettled me, yet it had also kindled a fierce hope—an echo of potential amid decay.
A sudden shout from below shattered my reverie. Peering over the ledge, I saw a Goliath enforcer exacting brutal tolls from a hapless scavenger. The knife in my hand trembled, my grip white-knuckled. If we didn't act soon, we would be next. Noctis' plan might have seemed reckless, but remaining idle guaranteed another lost life.
"Pack up," I ordered firmly. "We're moving to the warehouse." Every heartbeat now pounded like a rallying cry—a step toward an uncertain, but necessary, revolution.
The Rats' Den:
Night fell, draping the city in its cloak of secrets as the Rats reconvened in their hidden warehouse—a sanctuary thick with the smells of boiled potatoes, desperation, and fear. Jasper unrolled the stolen ledger on a rickety table. Its pages, smeared with grease and ink, chronicled the rising threat.
"Goliath's got a shipment coming through the East Gate tunnels," Jasper announced. "Meat, medicine, weapons—everything he's using to tighten his grip. But listen—Noctis said not to attack the shipment just yet. He reckons we wait until we're ready and strong. We've got ten days before it arrives."
Toby, still holding the memory of his earlier theft like a silent badge of their plight, froze mid-bite. "So?" His small but defiant voice cut through the tense air.
Aria stepped forward, her shadow long against the flickering light. "So we use these ten days to hit back—train, plan, and prepare. Noctis even said we should train in the morning. When we strike, we hit it hard. We disrupt their supply, and we take control."
A nervous laugh from Kieran shattered the brief flicker of hope. "With what? Our charm?" he sneered.
Jasper's fist slammed the ledger down. "With this!" he declared, his finger tracing the route on the crumpled map Noctis had left behind. "Noctis was right. When we control the supply, we control the game."
The word "control" hung in the air like smoke—a constant reminder of the unlikely child who had dared to lead them toward change. As Toby abruptly volunteered to scout the tunnels and Aria coordinated the setting of traps with Mira and Zara, a newfound resolve coalesced among them.
"Ten days," Jasper murmured, his voice heavy with determination. "We get ready. And tomorrow morning, we train hard. At sunrise, we begin our work."
With that, the Rats dispersed into the shadows—each now a bearer of a spark that might yet rekindle hope in their broken city, counting down the days until they could finally strike back.