There was a sliver of light coming through the wall where Red and Nero hid - small hands clenched together. Nero’s free hand clasped over Red’s mouth. They watched through the crack as the Hologuards swept the small apartment, light tracing over their meager belongings. A torn coat, an outdated newspad, and the silver welded music box, made from broken ID tags that father made mother when they first met.

Nero and Red had to keep their toys in the wall, hidden safely away in case of inspections like this one. Red’s favorite was the ancient monitor module computer - father had found it in the dumpsters behind the factory - and was able to fix the power supply. Nero didn’t have many toys, he was more like mother that way - always so serious. It had gotten worse when father died. No time for playing - we needed things to eat, money to pay rent.

Father had made the false wall as soon as he knew that mother was expecting - and with twins no less. They didn’t get the pre-approval for offspring - and the family license was far too expensive to get after the fact. They needed to hide them away - because if they found them - two unregistered children - they would be sent away. Un-chipped kids were the city’s property.

So Red and Nero were confined behind the wall most of their childhood. It was Nero who stuck out past sleeping mother, exhausted from another fifteen hour shift, to roam the Downtown streets, sneaking and swiping credits wherever he could. He would sometimes bring back small treats for Red - broken computer components, loose wires he found. One time he even brought back a little Fly-Eye, but after seeing what looked to be like flecks of blood on its metal back, Red didn’t want to play with it any more.

Red made his own little toys with what father would find for him - but when father died, he was grateful that Nero did the same. He made little robots, tiny little birds replicating what he had seen on the books mother kept under the floorboards. She told Red that birds sing songs, so Red made the little machines chime little tunes as they clinked back and forth. They were ma’s favorite. It was hard to make her smile, but the little birds made her glow like Red had never seen before.

As the flashlights continued their trail around the room, Red closed his eyes. It was easier to not look and pretend that he wasn’t there. To pretend that he was in the SimuPark that mother promised that she would take him one day - when he was older and she could afford it.

When Red finally opened his eyes again, he saw the flashlight in his mother’s face. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes stoic and jaw tight. Her red hair lighting up in flames around her pale face. Red felt Nero tense up beside him.

“There was another report - kids laughing again. You know we’re both sick of this little dance, Judith,” the Hologuard spoke in metallic tones though his tight visored mask.

Mother said nothing, staring in the same silent defiance in the bright glare of the light. The second Hologuard continued to pace the room - knocking over a shelf and scattering its contents over the floor. The tiny music box lay shattered on the dark ground, chiming in a whimper on impact.

Red jumped back, only slightly at the crash, and his little socked foot stepped backwards, landing his heel hard on the tiny silver bird at his feet. It whistled in response - louder than it ever had before, and Red felt a million tiny horrors crawl through his body all at once.

It was then that both flashlights swung towards them - both trained on the crack in the wall where they stood, and Nero’s palm dropped from Red’s hot face. Red was only able to get a quick glance at Nero’s furious stare before the false wall swung open, both Hologuard’s lights and scopes aimed at their tiny bodies.

Mother was standing behind them, with a sadness deeper than any he had ever seen molding her already stress-lined face. He wanted to run to her, scream for her, but fear kept him locked in place. In the dim light, Red could see a tiny shining glimpse of something in her fisted hand. She was holding the broken metal music box.

“Hey there kiddos,” coaxed the Hologuard in a sickly teasing tone, “Pleasure to finally meet you.”

Red looked to mother again. She was mouthing something, eyes frantic.

Run.

There was a loud crack as the music box hit the back of the Hologuard’s head, and Red felt Nero’s hand grab his with a sharp tug towards the window. There were screams, and flashes of light behind them, followed by loud pops as they jumped out of the second story. Red’s ankles shot with pain on the impact – Nero on the pavement in front of him on his hands and knees.

Red watched as Nero quickly brushed himself off and stood in the near-empty alleyway. Specks of blood on his pants where the pavement broke the skin on his palms.

They ran for years, hiding away in alleys, taking turns sleeping at night when things were dangerous. But Red knew it couldn’t last forever. It was getting more and more difficult for Nero to hide his resentment for Red. To him - none of this would have happened if it wasn’t for those stupid, usless toys. He wore it on his face - every time he came back with food. Every time Red did something wrong - which was often - a different Nero would come out. There was this silent, seething anger that he held onto - it terrified Red.

So one day, when he was feeling particularly useless, Red left.

And the hand that his brother once held behind the wall now had Sage, Sleepers, Daytril, or whatever he could find to escape, to pretend he was somewhere else - anywhere else. He still had his talents though - particularly useful talents in the crowd he found himself in.

For years, Red counterfeit ID chips of those wanting to hide their histories from Hologuards or get into places they shouldn’t. He made his money - enough to live comfortably - but also enough to keep a steady supply of the narcos he wouldn’t have been able to find otherwise. The more credits he had, the better the supply - and he was more lost than he had ever wanted.

It was during a particularly bad night that Cil found him - face down in a pile of his own vomit in some alley who-knows where. But somehow she was able to bring him back, up through the cozy drifting nothingness and into a shaking, painful waking existence that he wasn’t quite ready to face. He resented her at first, but over time - she became his best and only friend.

But now here she was, mad at him all over again, but understandably so. He never told her about Nero or N as he liked to call himself now. He sure had gained a lot of power over the years - a natural leader, it was easy to see why he gained such a quick and fanatic following.

Back when he was still making those counterfeit ID chips, they tried to recruit him to his cause. He knew it was Nero behind it, but of course even then he was far too important to come in person. A rat mask cornered him in the street and gave him an encrypted drive. It was far too easy to decipher - a simple hex on his computer at home and the white text flashed on the black screen.

//We’ve been watching. We know what you can do. Together we can take them down from the inside, Red. I’ll be waiting. - N

Then it listed the coordinates - somewhere up north. It was probably one of those abandoned factories. But no, Red was not interested. If anything, he was more frustrated that his own brother didn’t meet him himself - but send one of his lackeys to do the job. He always had a flair for the dramatic.

But now, as they walked through the dark, steaming alleyway to that same location, he wasn’t sure how he felt. Would he even be there? That invitation was years ago. It was worth a shot - it was one of the only chances they had.

The only chance to save Sabrina.

He shook his head. No, this was much bigger than Sabrina. It always had been.

Memories flooded his head of growing up behind the wall. The tiny room, always filled with dust and ash from the outside factories, seeming through the cracks in the ceiling. Nero with his head in a book, using the little light from the crack from the main room while Red tinkered away on his little machines. Part of him was excited - finally seeing his brother after all these years. Someone who shared his memories, his pain. But unlike Red, Nero didn’t run away from the past - he dwelled in his anger, letting it fester, using it to become what he was today.

But was he really? A cult leader? An activist? A terrorist?

Red and Cil stopped in front of the opposing, out of place metal door - no handle. A dusty old-fashioned halogen lamp was the only source of light in the dark alleyway. The streets around were strangely empty and Red felt his stomach start to knot. Open space in this city means power. Power.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Cil finally asked - inspecting the bare frame around the door.

Red double checked the message he received so long ago - everything matched. This was it.

“Yep,” he answered, stepping closer to the door.

Before Red had a chance to knock, there was a sudden woosh as the door rose upwards, revealing nothing but an empty and narrow dark hallway.

“Shall we?” Red smiled.