Riley Gage's Arc

Chapter 1 of 6

Riley's hands freeze over the circuit board when Marcus walks into the workshop. His second-oldest brother, here on Level 13, maybe fifty yards from the warehouse where Riley spends every night building things the Alley Rats use to hurt people. Marcus doesn't know yet. Nobody's told him what his little brother actually does down here. Riley shoves the circuit board under a tarp and stands. The workshop-garage behind him spreads across the concrete like a map of everything he's accomplished since leaving home—the orange stripes bright against the gray buildings, the cartoon rat grinning above the main garage door, tools arranged on benches he welded himself. He built this. The Alley Rats gave him space and materials and told him he was brilliant every time something worked. Marcus is looking at the rat logo now, his face doing that thing where he's trying to figure something out. Riley talks fast, waving at the setup like it's a legitimate business, like the workbenches and gear aren't two steps from gang territory markers. He needs Marcus to see success here, to finally think his little brother is worth something. But Marcus's eyes keep going back to that grinning rat, and Riley knows the exact second his brother understands what kind of people paint their logo that big. Marcus walks past Riley without a word and pulls back the tarp. The black box sits there with its red light blinking steady. All those wires and metal strips wrapped around reinforced plating. Marcus spent two years in security before he moved up-Spire. He knows what a remote detonator looks like. Riley opens his mouth to explain, to say he just makes things, that he's not responsible for how they get used. But Marcus is already walking away, and the silence Marcus leaves behind is louder than any words. Riley stands in his workshop surrounded by everything that finally made him matter to someone, and watches his brother disappear into the crowd without looking back.