SORA’S POVThe alley tastes like rust and rain the moment they come for us.“Package secure,” Miguel breathes over comms, his voice fogging in the pre-dawn chill. He sounds steady, but I catch the tremor he can’t hide. “Kid’s got the files.”Through my scope, I find the courier. Nineteen at most. His hands shake so badly that he can barely hold the drive. He clutches it like maybe it’ll buy him a future.“Movement, north side.” My crosshairs snag the first shadow sliding down a fire escape. Fluid. Silent. Too clean. “Miguel. Abort. Now.”“What? I don’t see…”The alley bursts white-green. The flash blinds me for half a second, but Miguel doesn’t get that luxury. His jacket opens like a red flower.“Miguel!” The courier spins toward the gunshot, files scattering from his jacket. “What the hell…”Something punches through his spine. He pitches forward, lands face-first in a puddle that reflects the streetlight like a broken mirror.“Contact north, contact north!” I shift my rifle, findin

DEVON’S POV0800 GMT hits like a digital avalanche.Seventeen news outlets, six languages, four time zones—the upload bars on my screens complete simultaneously, and six terabytes of classified material flood the global information network like water through a broken dam.“Files are live,” I announce, though my voice sounds steadier than my hands feel. “Multi-path dissemination complete.”Maya leans over my shoulder, watching the real-time distribution tracking. “How long until…”The first notification pops up before she finishes the question. Guardian headline banner: ALIEN CONTACT COVER-UP: SECRET HYBRID PROGRAM EXPOSED.Then Washington Post: CORPORATE HUMAN EXPERIMENTATION REVEALED.Der Spiegel: REGIERUNG VERTUSCHUNG AUSSERIRDISCHER KONTAKT.“Jesus,” Kira breathes. “It’s actually happening.”I switch to social media monitoring. Twitter trending algorithms explode across my secondary screen. #AlienHybrids. #CorporateConspiracy. #HumanExperimentation. The hashtags spread like wildfir

KIRA’S POV“Next fuel stop is forty miles,” Sora calls from the driver’s seat, her voice carrying over the highway wind. “After that, we’re running on fumes and hope.”Three vehicles caravan across the Nevada wasteland, following coordinates Ezren extracted from the collective probe. Maya drives the lead truck while Devon and Aveline ride in the trailing SUV, monitoring for pursuit. Between us, enough equipment to establish field operations and enough firepower to discourage casual interference.“How are you holding up?” I ask Ezren, who’s been staring at the horizon like he’s reading invisible text written across the sky.“Getting stronger.” His voice carries those harmonic undertones that make the radio crackle. “The closer we get, the more I can feel… resonance.”“Resonance with what?”“The fragment. It’s like…” He pauses, searching for words. “Like hearing your name called from another room. Familiar, but distant.”Sora adjusts the rearview mirror. “No pursuit visible, but that d

DEVON’S POV“Contact rear!” Sora shouts over the engine noise, her rifle spitting fire through the truck’s back window. “Four vehicles, closing fast!”I punch the accelerator, feeling the modified engine scream against the redline. Behind us, Blackthorn contractors maintain pursuit with mechanical precision, their vehicles eating up ground like hungry predators.“How’s our EMP package?” Maya asks from the passenger seat, checking her tactical display.“Thirty seconds to deployment.” My fingers dance across the improvised control panel I jury-rigged during our escape prep. “But we only get one shot at this.”The washboard road hammers our suspension, threatening to shake the truck apart. In the rearview mirror, contractor vehicles gain ground with each bounce, their superior equipment handling the terrain better than our salvaged ride.“Kira, how’s our passenger?” I call back to the cargo area.“Breathing, conscious, multiple lacerations from the fragment extraction.” Her voice carri

DEVON’S POV“Paris team confirms successful infiltration,” Zara’s voice crackles through encrypted channels. “Blackthorn facility offline, data servers corrupted beyond recovery.”I mark another strike on the global tactical display. Green dots scattered across six continents, each one representing a cell that received Aveline’s intelligence package and decided to act on it.“Tokyo reports similar success,” Maya adds from her communications station. “Three contractor vehicles destroyed, personnel scattered. No casualties on our side.”“Berlin team got into the integration facility,” another voice reports. “Medical records, subject processing equipment, experimental protocols… everything’s being transmitted to public networks.”The coordination is beautiful in its simplicity. Aveline’s medical files provided locations, security protocols, and operational schedules for contractor assets worldwide. Combine that with cells that’ve been preparing for asymmetric operations since the first c