The skimmer banked low over the tree line, engines humming in a strained rhythm that made Mira’s jaw tighten. The machine wasn’t failing—not yet—but it was tired. They all were.Night air sliced through the half-damaged vents, cold enough that it stung exposed skin. Mira adjusted her grip on the restraints, watching the treetops ripple beneath them in uneven waves.“Ten kilometers out,” Rourke called from the cockpit, voice steady but edged with something darker. “We’ll reach the fallback sector soon.”Kapoor didn’t look up from the interface she was patching together with two shattered datapads. “Assuming nothing picks us up first.”“Nothing will,” Mira said.She wished she believed that as much as she sounded like she did.Behind her, Adrian slumped against the padded wall of the cargo bay. He was still recovering, but no longer fading in and out. His gaze was clearer. Focused. Alert when he needed to be—and right now, he needed to be.Across from him, Lyra lay propped against emerg

The storm broke over the ridge just as Mira shoved the skimmer into its final descent pattern. Wind slammed the hull sideways, rattling every loose bolt and throwing sparks of static along the bruised metal exterior. Adrian braced a hand on the wall, steadying himself against the violent drop. Below them— The Ravine Base. Hidden beneath a collapsed mining network, patched together with scaffolding, thermal cloaks, and desperate engineering. Home—for now. “Landing struts engaged!” Kapoor called from the aft console. “Engaged is generous,” Rourke muttered as the skimmer lurched, dipped, then punched downward with a thud that knocked everyone half a step off their feet. “More like ‘begging politely to not explode.’” “Shut up and secure the clamps,” Mira snapped. Rourke saluted with two fingers, but moved. Adrian exhaled slowly, steadying his breathing as the engines powered down. The ringing in his head—the remains of sedation and the aftershocks of what the facility for

The storm didn’t break overhead—it broke inside the room.Not with thunder, but with voices. Urgent, overlapping, tight with fear.Mira stood at the center of the makeshift command chamber, shoulders squared, palms flat on the holo-table. Its shifting blue projections painted her face in cold light, sharpening every angle of her expression.“Run it again,” she demanded.Kapoor hesitated. “Mira, you’ve already seen it—”“Run it. Again.”A soft hum answered—the familiar stutter of a recorded transmission replaying.Static filled the air.Then:A distorted voice, male, rigid with authority.“…Priority Directive: secure Resonant Subjects One and Two. Termination of auxiliary assets authorized. Transport window opens in nine hours. If Subjects One and Two breach the perimeter, deploy orbital measures.”The recording dissolved into static.Lyra paled at the last line. “Orbital measures? They’re willing to burn an entire sector?”Adrian stood beside her—still recovering, arms trembling, but

The briefing room felt too small.Not physically—its walls were wide metal panels, its consoles recessed and neat, its lights low and steady—but emotionally. Tension moved through the air like static waiting for a spark.Mira stood at the center table, palms flat against the glowing display. Her posture was steady. Her expression wasn’t. Her eyes kept drifting toward the far corner where Adrian sat strapped to the diagnostic chair, still trembling from the aftershock of the resonance surge he’d suffered in Chapter 67.Lyra sat beside him, not touching, but close enough that even Mira registered the gravity between them—gravity that wasn’t romantic, but something deeper, forged in survival and shared danger.She kept her gaze down, pretending to read the tablet in her hands. But the pulse under her jaw was visible. Fast. Uneven.Mira cleared her throat. “We’re running out of time.”Rourke leaned back in his seat. “We’ve been out of time since they sent Phase Hunters after us.”Kapoor r

The alarms still echoed in Adrian’s ears long after the blast doors had sealed behind them. The team—fractured, injured, and pushing past the limits of exhaustion—kept moving through the dim service corridor that Mira’s hack had opened. The air vibrated faintly with the hum of generators buried deeper in the facility, the whole structure shifting like a beast awakening to the threat of their escape.Lyra stumbled once, catching herself on the wall with a shaky breath. Adrian reached out instinctively, but she shook her head.“I’m fine,” she murmured. She wasn’t. Her skin still carried the dull pallor from the sedatives the government had kept her under for days, maybe weeks. But even now, even barely steady on her legs, she was fighting—because she had always been built from resistance.Mira led the front, weapon raised, eyes locked on the portable holomap flickering in her palm. “Security patrols are converging from Levels C and D. They know you two are out. They definitely know the