#Echo Protocol
#011
Juno's words didn't just echo. They struck a chord.
Asher stood frozen, as if time itself had slowed to let the truth breathe. Around them, the hideout thrummed with that strange energy that comes just before a storm—or a revolution.
Eden broke the silence. "If he remembers the trades… can he replay them?"
Juno paused, then gave a slow nod. "Not just replay. I can feel them. I don't just know what they sold. I know why."
The old woman stepped closer, pulling a cracked tablet from beneath her shawl. "We call it the Echo Protocol. His memories—recorded, voiced, and shared. The whole idea is to expose Bliss by letting people actually feel what was lost."
Asher took the tablet and flipped through corrupted video logs. Faces flashed across the screen—some crying, others smiling through their pain. Raw. Real. Unfiltered.
"This... this could work," he said quietly.
"But it won't be enough," Eden added. "The system won't crumble because people shed a few tears. It'll fight back."
The woman smirked, a glint of silver tooth catching the light. "That's why we have part two."
A door creaked open behind them. A tall man stepped into the light, one mechanical eye glinting, his coat stitched from memory bands. The kind only the elite wore as trophies. He had hundreds.
"Name's Veyr," he said. "Used to enforce for Bliss. Now I hunt ghosts."
Asher tilted his head. "You're with the Collective?"
"I was with the system. Until they slaughtered my brother and sold the memory to a senator."
The room fell silent.
"I've got access codes," Veyr said. "Firewall blueprints. Network layouts. You want to burn Bliss to the ground? I know where to strike."
Juno added softly, "And I know what to say."
For the first time in what felt like forever, Asher felt something stir in his chest.
Hope.
---
That night, they set up the broadcast rig.
Juno sat in the middle of the room, the neural scanner blinking steadily at his temple. Wires coiled around him. Translators hummed in the dark. Eden fine-tuned the calibration while Veyr hijacked old pirate signals, tapping into the city's broadcast grid.
"I'll need to go deep," Juno warned. "The worst ones."
"You sure?" Asher asked. "You don't have to relive everything."
Juno gave a faint smile. "I already do. This way, it means something."
Asher crouched beside him. "Then just speak the truth. Let them feel it."
Juno nodded and closed his eyes.
The lights dimmed. The system purred to life.
Then came silence.
And then, Juno began to speak.
"Her name was Lira. She sold the memory of her daughter's laugh to make rent. I remember the sound, even if she doesn't."
Static flickered on the nearest screen. A child's face appeared, pixelated and smiling.
The people watching didn't react. They didn't cry. They didn't speak. They just stared.
Juno continued. "A man once sold the moment he forgave his father. Said it was the only peace he ever felt. Bliss turned it into a cocktail called Reconcile. Sold for three hundred credits a dose."
A second screen lit up. A man lay in a hospital bed, smiling softly, whispering 'I forgive you' to no one.
It went on.
One story after another. One trauma after the next. Memories traded, resold, forgotten. Until now.
Now, they were remembered.
---
The broadcast hit harder than anyone expected.
Within the hour, the Ether District's ad walls glitched into frozen frames of stolen memories. By sunrise, three Bliss centers had been trashed. Online, the movement exploded under the tag #EchoTruth.
Eden stood by the window, watching the surveillance drones whirl in confusion.
"They'll come for us," she said.
"Let them," Veyr growled, checking a grenade-like device lined with neural spikes. "They're walking into a funeral."
Asher crossed the room and knelt beside Juno, who sat pale but steady.
"You holding up?"
Juno gave a tired nod. "Better than ever. I remember everything. That means they've already lost."
And that was the turning point. The crack in the system.
The people weren't just watching anymore.
They were remembering.
And this wasn't just resistance.
This was reckoning.
And war was on its way.