I am Taseen. 17 years old and an orphan raised on my own in this vast world of lies. "Why do I call this world a world of lies? It's because of what I've seen and what I've experienced from my childhood that has led me to this conclusion. The first lie was an ocean, everything after was drowning ." I muttered to myself while tearing a piece off the bread I bought from the store. It had turned room temperature, but the smell still lingered faintly, reminding me of streets I'd wandered alone, always careful not to be noticed.

  My living room was modest. Not big, not small. A plain wooden table sat in the center, flanked by two chairs. The walls were bare, the floor unadorned, and a single dim light bulb hung from the ceiling, casting soft, uneven shadows. The room was boring, almost clinical, yet one could live here peacefully if they wanted. Everything was functional, nothing extravagant, just what was necessary. A water bottle rested on the table, the bread still warm in my hands, and a few maps were spread out like scattered leaves. It wasn't much, but it was mine.

  Outside, the city gleamed with an almost artificial sense of peace. Lights flickered from buildings, streets buzzed softly with life, and people moved with purpose.... or what they thought was purpose. They believed themselves free, but in truth, they were role-playing the parts assigned to them, performing in a play they did not write. Every smile, every cheerful greeting, every act of kindness seemed orchestrated, part of a selective fan service designed to keep them complacent. Freedom was an illusion, carefully curated by those in power.

  "You talk too much, man. Let me eat this bread in peace," Steve said, shoving a piece of bread into his mouth, his usual playful tone masking something sharper.

  "Shut up and eat quietly. The night isn't long. We have to prepare for the invasion," I snapped, tossing him the water bottle sitting on the table. "Drink this and clean up. I have to sleep early tonight."

  He caught it effortlessly, drinking and chewing at the same time. I caught the faintest glint in his eyes. Sharp, deliberate, almost calculating. My mind ticked over silently, assessing the odds of him choking in the next thirty seconds. Somehow, he always survived these stunts. Even as I observed, I realized there were things I didn't see, patterns I couldn't fully understand yet.

  As he finished, he burped with a sigh, stretched, and cleared his throat like someone preparing to speak to a crowd rather than a single friend. "The night is still young. Haven't you heard that rats go around at night?"

  "Yes, they do. They're freaking rats for God's sake. Of course, they sneak around damaging stuff at night," I replied, gritting my teeth.

  Steve shrugged, a playful gesture, but there was precision in it, a quiet authority that didn't fit his carefree demeanor. I noticed, but I didn't fully understand it yet. "Okay, okay. Chill with that temper of yours," he said, hands raised in mock surrender. Then he leaned over the table, pointing at the spread of maps. "When the moon is null, the plan shall execute. Know that the Capital Guards aren't to be messed with. They've got some crazy tech… the only way in is by sneaking onto their land. The government has their gear all relaxed at the moment, which means we have a small window."

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  He slid the maps toward me, one by one. I examined them carefully. The streets, patrol routes, entry points, all sketched meticulously. Yet the third map ended abruptly, missing a continuation that should have led to the central facility.

  Something caught my attention. His fingers lingered just a fraction longer over one corner of the third map, a series of tiny, almost imperceptible marks. I squinted, thinking they might be smudges or mistakes, but something about the way his hand hovered there felt deliberate, like a secret message only he understood. Steve caught my gaze briefly, then looked away, his expression calm and unreadable behind the mask. A chill ran down my spine, though I couldn't tell why.

  I looked at Steve, sensing something odd. His hands lingered over the blank space, and for a moment, he avoided my gaze. There was a subtle tension in him, almost imperceptible, like a predator testing its prey.... or perhaps a teacher testing a student. I noticed the hesitation, but the full significance eluded me.

  "Why is there no continuation of drawing here?" I asked, pointing at the blank space.

  He flinched slightly, then quickly regained composure, forcing a casual smile. "Ah… it's a minor mistake," he said, voice light but edged with something I couldn't ignore. "I forgot to draw it. Don't mind it that much, it's not that important anyway."

  I frowned, sensing deliberate control behind his words. I understood the observation, the subtle clue, but not the message he was embedding. For now, I let it slide.

  Then, as if nothing had happened, he jumped up and started walking toward the door.

  "Hey wait! What are you leaving for? We still have to discuss our plans! Come back!" I shouted, but he was fast. In moments, he slipped out, leaving me standing alone in the dim light of the room.

  "We'll meet again, my friend. Till then, earn more so I can eat more than bread next time. Ta-ta," I heard him call from the street, his voice fading.

  I sighed, clenching my fists. That damned sonova…

  The night pressed heavier after he left. I glanced at the maps again; the inked lines seemed to pulse under the pale moonlight, warning me that the path ahead wouldn't be easy. My mind raced with fear, excitement, anger, and anticipation swirling together like a storm inside my chest. I could see patterns, anticipate outcomes, and notice shifts, but there were hidden truths I couldn't grasp yet. Outside, the city slept, pretending to be free. But I knew the truth: every citizen was playing their part, trapped in a story carefully written for them, blissfully unaware of the chains around them.

  So this is it. The start of my rebellion against the government. I'm scared, Mom, Dad. I hope I can finally take the revenge I've dreamed of for so long. It makes my blood boil just thinking about it.

  I turned off the lights and slid into bed, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on me. Outside, the city slept, oblivious. But tomorrow, the first step would be taken, and nothing would ever be the same again.