Rules Were Made to Be Broken

n New Terra, life was measured by rules — tall, gleaming towers filled with citizens who never questioned them. Jobs were assigned, relationships approved, lives timed to the second. Break a rule, and you disappeared, erased as if you had never existed.

Seventeen-year-old Kael had never questioned the system — until now.

He stood in the Hall of Assignments, a gray slip of paper trembling in his hand.

Occupation: Waste Management.

Partner: None.

Lifespan Extension: Denied.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Kael had aced his tests, followed every order, smiled at every authority figure. He had dreamed of becoming a navigator, steering airships across New Terra’s vast skies. Instead, he'd been thrown into the lowest caste with no hope of advancement — and no partner to share his days.

The world around him blurred as he stumbled outside. Neon banners declared: "Obedience is Freedom!"

Kael wanted to scream.

Instead, he wandered the under-levels of the city, where the sterile glow of order barely reached. And that’s when he saw her.

A girl — about his age — with short silver hair and an electric grin, slipping between the shadows like she belonged to them. No uniform. No ID badge.

Wild and free.

Kael hesitated only a moment before following.

She led him through abandoned corridors and shattered doors into a hidden courtyard blooming with graffiti — wild art in furious color.

She turned, raising an eyebrow. "You’re not very good at sneaking," she teased.

Kael’s heart hammered. "Who are you?"

"Name’s Riven," she said, hopping onto a crumbling bench. "And you, citizen?"

"Kael," he said, voice low. "You’re not… from the city?"

Riven laughed, swinging her boots. "I was. Once. Then I woke up."

She told him everything: the 'vanished' weren't dead — they were alive, building a community outside the system. A place where people chose their futures, fell in love freely, and lived as long as they could fight for it.

"They lied to us," Kael whispered, his fists clenching.

"Of course they did," Riven said, leaning closer. Her voice dropped into a secretive whisper. "Rules were made to be broken, Kael. Some cages are too pretty for you to notice the bars."

Kael hesitated. Leaving meant risking everything: safety, familiarity, even his life. But staying meant slow death — crushed under a system that saw him as nothing.

When Riven offered her hand, he took it.

The rebellion wasn’t a fiery army — it was a slow, careful wildfire. They called themselves the "Fractures." Every day, they pulled more young citizens from the city's grasp: planting hacked messages into school tablets, sabotaging assignment servers, painting murals of forbidden hope where drones couldn’t see.

Kael found his place among them, not as a navigator of ships, but a navigator of people — helping lost souls find their way to freedom.

But the city fought back harder. Patrols doubled. Punishments became brutal.

One evening, while smuggling a group of defectors through the drainage canals, Kael and Riven were ambushed. Red lights seared the night. Sirens wailed.

"Go!" Kael shouted, shoving the others ahead.

Riven grabbed his wrist. "I’m not leaving you!"

But Kael pushed her into the tunnel and slammed the gate shut, locking her out.

His last glimpse was her tear-streaked face mouthing his name before he turned to face the enforcers.

In the sterile interrogation room, they offered him a deal: betray the Fractures, reveal Riven’s location, and he'd be reinstated — given a partner, a lifespan extension, maybe even a better job.

Kael stared at the blank faces of the officers, all identical in their indifference.

And he laughed.

A wild, reckless, dangerous laugh that echoed off the cold walls.

"You still don't get it," he said, leaning forward. "You lost the second you thought we needed your permission to live."

They sentenced him to erasure.

Another ghost added to the thousands.

But that wasn’t the end.

Two nights later, the prison alarms blared — a coordinated riot sparked by hacked override codes. Amid the chaos, a familiar silver-haired figure slipped into Kael’s cell, grinning wildly.

"Miss me?" Riven whispered, picking the lock.

Side by side, they sprinted into the night, hearts pounding, lungs burning.

Behind them, New Terra's towers loomed cold and furious — but ahead, the world stretched wide and wild, full of choices.

They were free.

Maybe they'd die tomorrow.

Maybe they'd build something better.

Either way, they’d do it on their own terms.

Because rules?

Rules were made to be broken.