2025-08-04 01:00:40The alien’s corpse still lay in the corner of the hideout, its obsidian carapace now dulled in death. Viktor had thrown a tarp over it—not out of respect, but because the smell of its blackened blood was making Felix gag. Three days had passed since the attack, and the air still carried the acrid tang of burnt wiring and spilled antiseptic.
Riley hadn’t slept. She sat hunched over the decrypted NovaTech drive, her fingers tracing the same lines of code over and over, as if they might rearrange themselves into answers. The footage of Alisha Carr’s cold-eyed orders played on a loop in her mind: *The passengers will serve as test subjects.*Viktor emerged from the back room, his face freshly bandaged. He tossed a protein bar at Riley. It landed with a thud beside her keyboard. “Eat. You’re no use to anyone like this.”She caught it but didn’t open it. “We’re running out of time.”Across the room, Dan leaned against the wall, arms crossed. The
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Chapter 18
The North End apartments were quiet in the late afternoon, the kind of place where people kept to themselves. Dan pulled his hood down as he approached Rico’s unit, the weight of the future pressing against his ribs. He glanced over his shoulder, scanning the empty parking lot, the curtained windows of neighboring units. No black vans. No figures lurking in the shadows. Just the hum of a distant television and the occasional bark of a dog down the street. He knocked twice, firm but not urgent. Footsteps approached from inside—slow, cautious. The peephole darkened for a second before the door cracked open, held in place by a chain. A pair of sharp brown eyes studied him. "Yeah?" Dan kept his hands visible. "Rico Vega?" The door didn’t open wider. "Who’s asking?" "Dan Foster." He hesitated, then went with the simplest truth. "We were on the same train. The NovaTech one that crashed." There was a pau
Chapter 17
The alien’s corpse still lay in the corner of the hideout, its obsidian carapace now dulled in death. Viktor had thrown a tarp over it—not out of respect, but because the smell of its blackened blood was making Felix gag. Three days had passed since the attack, and the air still carried the acrid tang of burnt wiring and spilled antiseptic. Riley hadn’t slept. She sat hunched over the decrypted NovaTech drive, her fingers tracing the same lines of code over and over, as if they might rearrange themselves into answers. The footage of Alisha Carr’s cold-eyed orders played on a loop in her mind: *The passengers will serve as test subjects.* Viktor emerged from the back room, his face freshly bandaged. He tossed a protein bar at Riley. It landed with a thud beside her keyboard. “Eat. You’re no use to anyone like this.” She caught it but didn’t open it. “We’re running out of time.” Across the room, Dan leaned against the wall, arms crossed. The
Chapter 16
The tunnels smelled of rust and damp concrete. Felix leaned heavily against Dan, his breath ragged from the gunshot wound in his side. Riley led the way, her flashlight cutting through the darkness as they navigated the labyrinth of forgotten maintenance shafts. "Almost there," she muttered, more to herself than to themThey reached a rusted grate tucked behind a collapsed service corridor. Riley knocked twice, paused, then knocked again—an old rhythm she had picked up from a dead forum thread months ago.There was silence.Dan adjusted his grip on Felix, whose face was pale with pain and said, “ he's not gonna shoot us on sight right? " It worked.The grate hissed open. A man in a patched jacket and rebreather mask gestured them inside. The room beyond was dimly lit, cluttered with soldered tech, cables, monitors blinking with scrambled static. One of the Collective’s hideouts.The man pulled off his mask—mid-fortie
Chapter 15
The tunnel air was thick with dust and echoes. Riley crouched beside Felix, checking his vitals while pretending her hands weren’t shaking. Across from her, Dan sat on a crumbling ledge, staring at his hands like they didn’t belong to him.They didn’t say much after what happened. After Dan lit half the tunnel with fire like a walking torch… and didn’t burn.But Riley’s silence wasn’t from shock. It was from recognition.Weeks ago, she’d picked up a faint digital trace while probing through the city’s underbelly — a tiny anomaly buried deep in encrypted data. It wasn’t just curiosity; she was following a lead that had slipped through every official channel, a whisper of something tied to a shadowy military contractor, Velis Defense Systems.Her gut told her this wasn’t just another dead end.This was about more than energy tests or ghost towns. It was about missing people—people like her mother, whose name had vanished from ever
Chapter 14
Dan’s body screamed in protest as he dragged himself through the shattered window. His palms sliced on jagged glass, knees scraping asphalt. Behind him, Felix groaned, wedged between the deflated airbag and the twisted steering column. "Felix!" Dan coughed, grabbing his friend by the collar and yanking. The smell of leaking fuel filled the air, sharp and dangerous. Riley crawled out of the backseat, clutching her ribs and wincing. Her laptop was smashed, wires and fragments trailing from her backpack. “I’m okay,” she rasped, eyes wide as she scanned the wreckage. “Dan, they’re coming.” He turned. The men moved with ruthless efficiency, dressed in tactical black, no insignias—just cold purpose. One held a compact rifle low, sweeping it across the wreck like he was clearing a room. Another moved toward Dan, his boots crunching glass underfoot. Dan barely got to his feet, shielding Felix. “We don’t have anything you want,” he shouted. “On the contrary,” the lead man replied, raising
Chapter 13
It was a cool evening and Dan sat cross-legged on the stiff mattress, his gaze fixed on the metal bars of his cell. They stood there like prison guards, cold, unyielding, taunting him with their permanence. The urge to lash out, to burn them down until nothing remained but smoldering ash, had been clawing at him since he was thrown in here. But he couldn’t afford to lose control. Not with eyes always watching, waiting for him to slip up. Instead, he trained. Not his muscles—though prison life forced him to stay in shape—but his power. His fire. He reached out, his fingers curling around one of the thick, iron bars. The coolness of the metal seeped into his skin. Dan closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, trying to channel the rage and frustration coiled inside him. Heat gathered in his palm, a prickling warmth that intensified the longer he focused. His hand trembled with the effort, sweat beading along his forehead. He imagined the metal glowing red-hot, bending to his will, melting
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