The stadium screens flickered and died, plunging the afternoon crowd into renewed panic beneath the dome's filtered sunlight. A child's cry pierced through the weary crowd. Security forces had moved in rapidly, roughly 10% to deliver supplies, 20% to set up barriers, and the rest to show a presence and establish order. Whenever chaos erupted, they quickly put it down, setting an overtly strong precedent by splitting families as perpetrators were separated. They also provided service to those injured but separated them from their families too as there was limited bed space. The improvised additional services were prioritized for power, resulting in the order to disable both the displays and lighting given the sunlight. This time, instead of bodies surging towards exits, the rows of seats remained mostly orderly except for the children who had long grown restless, ever since the race ended abruptly. Security barriers were lit and powered, becoming obstacles to control an ocean of humanity.
The improvised command structure highlighted deeper flaws in Veridian's automated systems. Without AI coordination, human officers fell back on outdated training manuals, creating a patchwork of authority that left gaps between zones of control. Some officers wielded power with rigid precision while others showed unexpected compassion, their humanity emerging in automation's absence.
"Veridian Center is safe," Terra's voice cracked, repeating the mantra that had become scripted. "Thank you for your patience with displays and lighting, we will provide an update shortly." He looked over at Kaz Mifune with a hint of desperation. "I'm not cut out for this. They don't pay me enough."
"You and me both," Kaz replied. "It is good our families are safe. I've requested my son and wife be brought up from the stadium crowd. What a mess."
Terra, "I don't know…," his voice trailing off. His family was out in the districts. He had made contact but they had lost power including water and refrigeration. He first told them to make their way to Veridian Center, but already people were being turned away. District gates to the center were ordered sealed. "Good your family is here,” Terra smiled before his expression flattened, “mine hit the waiting lines and I told them to turn back, my codes weren't good enough."
Terra's hand shook slightly as he adjusted his headset, a subtle gesture of helplessness that Kaz recognized from years of announcing races together. The weight of responsibility pressed down on them both as they watched security forces split up another family below. A mother's desperate plea echoed through as one of her children was led away to the medical wing, her own injuries deemed too minor for priority care.
Kaz looked down soberly. He didn't realize how good it was to have his family close, or how bad Terra must be feeling.
In the districts, vital systems continued to fail. Each failure pushed people to wonder about manual alternatives, but most expected the situation to resolve quickly. Automated climate controls sputtered and died, forcing many into discomfort, and some to attempt manually configuring ventilation systems. Some food dispensers had already gone dark, leading to impromptu sharing in the community until the crisis passed. The city itself was forcing its inhabitants to remember skills long surrendered to automation. At least in Veridian Center, those in the stadium still had power and automation systems access through their augmentations, prioritized under the security policy. But in the Symmetrist district, hardest hit, those systems had gone quiet.
Two districts over, Jo watched the athletes arrive at her position outside the air vehicle she and Marcus used to monitor the race. When the TransitTrack was halted due to a cascading power failure, they landed to support the runners. Marcus registered the athletes, scanning them with security systems still online. Jo stood as if watching but was formulating their next steps.
Jo noticed how the athletes naturally organized themselves as they arrived, by faction. The Symmetrists huddled close to Kira, while the AutoGen members stood alone. It made her wonder about something in her great-grandmother's notes about natural social structures emerging from chaos - "Human patterns persist beneath technological control."
"Your recommendations?" Jonathan asked. He stood apart from the others, he was struggling far less than the other athletes as their mapping and location augmentations no longer had a system to triangulate and provide services, those services only available to security. The TransitTrack being shut down disconnected not only power systems but communication relays. Jo realized each district was becoming more isolated. She was relieved they were still in contact with Veridian due to segregated communication backup equipment running along the track. She looked at Jonathan who seemed relaxed and confident and wondered whether he always felt forsaken without implants; she felt something creeping up her spine with every public safety update.
The TransitTrack severed neural connections from Veridian Center to the districts. Outages of advanced services collapsing and expanding into dormant zones across the city in digital shadows. Only audio communications were held and remained reliable. Jo caught fragments of desperate transmissions - hospitals switching to backup power, automated factories grinding to a halt, environmental systems failing in residential towers.
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Jonathan met her gaze with intensity, seeking answers beyond the next steps, probing to understand what type of leader she was… or was that just in her head? She steadied herself.
Before she could respond, Chung cut in, slightly distorted: "The Quantum district has backup protocols. We’ll move into the district now. We can bring some with us until this whole thing blows over." He gestured at his fellow team runners who all lived just off the track. They had gathered around him, all three in coordinated orange uniforms.
The group shifted uneasily at Chung's words. Nova, one of the Symmetrist runners, quietly helped a limping teammate find better footing. Jonathan stood between the runners and a growing crowd just beyond the security barrier. The AutoGen team stood in perfect formation, their military precision now seeming more reassuring than artificial.
"No," Jo's voice carried weight of command, surprising herself. The responsibility settled on her shoulders like an inherited mantle, heavy but somehow right. She directed her statement at Chung but could feel Jonathan's gaze still attached. "The power grid is compromised and moving between districts is closed. There are no estimates on how long this will last. Those deciding to go back into the districts may become stuck. Every indication is that city services and infrastructure continue to collapse. We should stay together and return to Veridian Center where there is power and resources. We should not separate."
"Look," Jonathan motioned past the reserved racing lanes to the larger thoroughfare. Transports full of people had also stopped. “What can we do to help them?”
Marcus commented, "We won't be able to access that side of the TransitTrack, those security barriers are powered. Fortunate for us." There were a few people wandering and others prying and breaking windows to get out. "Barriers also separate each district and Veridian Center, they'll be lucky to even get into the Quantum Collective.” He tried to feel for them but knew he had to focus on his mission. “Reports across the city indicate the TransitTrack shutdown triggered something bigger than stranding people. We just don’t know the extent yet."
Jo surveyed the area, she could see the Symmetrist district's tower lights shutting down adding to the spectacle. She felt the weight of every eye upon her – the runners drew closer, drawn in for protection. She maintained her posture and remembered her readings that morning: ‘System Dependencies and Natural Flow States: When systems fail, humans naturally organize around those they trust to solve immediate problems.’ She focused on simplicity.
She faced Kira, "We are also close to the Symmetrists district, do you or any of your team wish to return there?" The Symmetrists stood in a semi-circle, but Jo only remembered Kira's name from her taking second place after the wall obstacle.
Kira's hand brushed against her neural implant out of habit. "I think we should stay with you," Kira answered and the others nodded. Jo surveyed AutoGen who nodded in militaristic unity, surprising Jo although she didn't show it. The independents, including Jonathan, nodded too.
"Okay Chung, if you still want to return to the Quantum Collective we'll make that happen. I'm sure you want to get home to friends and family, but it is against my recommendation. The shuttle can take three at a time with Marcus driving. Those wanting to go back to Veridian Center, stand by Marcus."
Except for Chung and a single Collective member, the group moved over to Marcus. "Now count 1-4,” Jo said, dividing the runners into four groups of three, "Okay group one, board now." Titan of AutoGen, Nova of Symmetrists, and Kaelen of Quantum Collective boarded. Chung glared disapprovingly at Kaelen and adjusted uncomfortably, covering an injury.
Marcus followed, securing the door. The shuttle rose moments later and headed to Veridian Center. "We stay until Marcus returns," she said. Then looking directly at Chung and Zenith, "We will drop you off last. I suggest we all find a way to get comfortable." They moved towards a shaded area in the Truth Gate’s shadow, and away from the people gathering on the other side of the TransitTrack.
A low rumble vibrated through the TransitTrack's supports, too subtle for most to notice. But Jo felt it and saw Jonathan's slight tensing in response. The group settled into the shade, naturally forming smaller clusters. Jonathan positioned himself where he could watch both the crowd and their group, but his attention was drawn to panels leading below. He seemed to sense what Jo already knew - their path forward could be down, into the abandoned foundations of the city.
While they waited, group dynamics shifted in subtle currents. Orion from the Symmetrists shared her water with a dehydrated AutoGen runner, the kind of small kindness that transcended faction rivalries. Jo moved among the groups, checking on each runner personally. She asked specific questions - not just "Are you okay?" but "How's your breathing?" or "Any muscle cramping?" The targeted concern seemed to help calm nerves.
"You're good at this," Jonathan said as Jo checked on him. "Leading."
"I had a good teacher," Jo replied, touching the notebook in her pocket. "Generations actually." Jo’s security comm picked updates - security forces losing control in the financial district, hospitals switching to manual systems, and most worryingly, structural integrity warnings from deep beneath the city confirming the feint vibration she felt. Something in Jonathan's expression shifted, and before she could question it, another rumble shook the TransitTrack.