Claire and Eli were just two restless souls wandering the streets of New Jersey, ignoring the low hum of drones overhead. The neon “EATS” sign outside the diner flickered as Eli lit his cigarette. Claire zipped up her jacket, her auburn hair catching the dim light of the streetlamp.

“You good, or are we just staring at potholes tonight?” she asked, adjusting her bag.

“Depends. You think the world’s still worth checking out?” Eli smirked.

Claire rolled her eyes. “Guess we’ll find out.”

As they walked down Jefferson Street, a drone hovered above, its steady hum unsettling.

“You ever think about what those things are doing?” Claire asked.

“Sure,” Eli said, blowing smoke. “Making sure we’re not double-parking our dreams.”

“I’m serious,” she said, stopping. “Those drones aren’t just surveillance. They’re watching us.”

“Big Brother’s been watching since dial-up. Relax,” Eli replied, his tone dismissive.

Claire didn’t argue, but her jaw tightened as they passed a bodega.

Inside, the old TV behind the counter showed muted news footage of drones dispersing a protest. Pete, the grizzled owner, barely looked up from his crossword puzzle.

“Pete,” Claire said, gesturing to the screen. “What’s your take on these drones?”

Pete snorted. “My take? They’re not just cameras. Those things are weapons, kid. They’re here to control us.”

Eli chuckled, grabbing a beer. “Come on, Pete. They’re flying Roombas.”

“Laugh now,” Pete said darkly. “But when they start rounding people up, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Claire’s stomach churned as they left the bodega.

The air outside felt heavier. Then came the loudspeaker.

“CITIZENS OF THE TRI-STATE AREA. A CITYWIDE CURFEW IS NOW IN EFFECT. VIOLATORS WILL BE DETAINED.”

A black SUV screeched around the corner, soldiers spilling out in full tactical gear.

“What the hell is this?” Eli muttered.

Claire yanked him into an alley. “Stay quiet,” she whispered, her heart racing.

They pressed against the wall, watching the soldiers sweep the street as drones scanned for movement.

Hours later, they were back at Claire’s apartment. Her laptop glowed as she scrolled through encrypted forums.

“It’s all connected,” she muttered.

“What is?” Eli asked, sipping his beer.

“The drones, the soldiers, the curfews. It’s a coup,” Claire said, turning the laptop toward him.

On the screen were leaked documents—blueprints for weaponized drones and memos about “urban control strategies.”

Eli’s smirk vanished. “Holy s***.”

Claire grabbed her bag. “We need to go.”

“Go where?” Eli asked, trailing after her.

“To someone who can help.”

They made their way through side streets until they reached a graffiti-covered door under a flickering streetlamp. Claire knocked in a specific rhythm.

A slot slid open, and suspicious eyes peered out. “Password?”

“Shadowbird,” Claire whispered.

The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit room filled with monitors and scattered wires. A group of people huddled around a map.

“Claire,” the leader said, a wiry man with sharp features. “You sure about him?”

She glanced at Eli. “Not really. But he’s here.”

The leader nodded. “Fine. Listen up, everyone. The drones aren’t just surveillance. They’re armed, and they’re targeting anyone deemed a threat. That means us.”

As the group strategized, Eli wandered over to a monitor. It displayed a live drone feed zooming in on a building.

“Uh, Claire?” Eli said. “Isn’t that your apartment?”
Everyone turned. On the screen, soldiers stormed her building, smashing through the door.
“No,” Claire whispered.
The camera panned to a shadowy figure standing outside, phone in hand.

It was Pete, the bodega owner.
“That son of a—” Claire started, but before she could finish, the hideout’s door burst open.
Soldiers flooded the room, their weapons raised.
“Hands in the air!” one of them barked.
Eli raised his hands, glancing at Claire. “Okay, new plan: don’t die?”

Under the drones, love, rebellion, and betrayal collided.