2025-08-12 22:06:53
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Fault Lines
The map table in the Severed Wing’s safehouse was a patchwork of hologram overlays and handwritten notes. Streets glowed red where Raven patrols were densest, blue where power conduits converged, and a new jagged yellow arc traced the perimeter wall they’d just breached.Jason leaned over it, tracing the blue lines with a finger. “Here, here, and here. Those conduits are feeding the engine directly. If we cut even one, it stalls the rotation. Cut all three, and we might collapse the whole structure.”Yara shook her head. “If it’s pulling from the geothermal grid too, we’ll just buy ourselves time. They’ll reroute.”“That’s fine,” Jason said. “Time is exactly what we need.”***Callen dumped a stack of intercepted Raven schematics onto the table. “Got these from their encrypted feeds. Took me all night to strip out the garbage data. The good news is—yes, those conduits are vulnerable. The bad news—they’re inside overlapping kill zones.”Yara studied the files. “Meaning?”“Meaning,” Cal
The Shimmering Wall
The barrier wasn’t just light.It was sound, too—low, almost subsonic, pressing into Jason’s chest with every step closer.From this distance, the shimmer was no longer a faint haze; it was a rippling membrane stretched across the street, its surface alive with drifting patterns like oil on water.Callen adjusted the scanner clamped to his forearm. “Field strength’s fluctuating. Not random—pulses in a set rhythm. I can thread us through between peaks, but we’ll only have seconds.”Jason nodded. “Make them count.”Yara scanned the empty rooftops. “Feels too quiet.”“It’s not quiet,” Jason said, eyes narrowing. “It’s waiting.”***They moved into position under the shadow of a gutted tramline. Callen crouched by a rusted junction box, pulling a mess of cables and antennae from his pack.“On my mark,” he said, fingers flying. “Three… two… one.”The shimmer split open like a tear in glass, revealing a narrow corridor of still air.“Go!”Jason led the way, boots pounding against the cracke
Ash And Echoes
The city smelled like burnt steel.Jason stood in what used to be a street market, his boots crunching over blackened glass and powdered stone. Every surface bore the dull grey film of the crystalline dust—harmless now, inert—but no one was touching it. The air carried a weight that wasn’t just smoke.“They’re saying the Ravens pulled out of three districts before dawn,” Callen said, stepping up beside him. “Not retreat—just… gone. No trace. Like they were never here.”Jason scanned the empty windows above them. “They’re clearing space for something. Question is—what?”***The Severed Wing’s safehouse was overcrowded, the walls rattling from the distant rumble of collapsing buildings. Resistance fighters who’d never met before were crammed shoulder-to-shoulder—patched uniforms, scavenged weapons, too many eyes still glazed from shock.Yara moved between them, taking quick statements from survivors, mapping where the Ravens had been seen last. Her notes were jagged, incomplete.“They w
The Night Of Glass
The first sound was like rain.Only it wasn’t water hitting the rooftops.Jason stepped out of the safehouse’s shattered window and held out his hand. Sharp fragments clinked against his glove—slivers of crystalline metal no bigger than fingernails, falling from the night sky.“They’ve started,” Callen said from behind him. His voice was tight.Jason turned. “Confirm it.”Callen’s rig flickered with incoming feeds from across the city—civilians choking, collapsing in the streets, their eyes glassy and fixed. Drones hovered overhead, releasing more of the metallic rain in spiraling dispersal patterns.Yara’s voice cut through the comms, raw with urgency: “It’s neural dust. Airborne. They’re trying to finish what the array couldn’t.”***By the time the Severed Wing assembled in the war room, the dust was everywhere—clinging to skin, hair, clothes. Callen’s filters hummed at maximum output, but they were barely keeping the air clean.“This is targeted resonance tech,” Yara said, pointin
The Purge Line
The first fire started in the east.Jason saw it from the rooftop of the Severed Wing’s safehouse—columns of black smoke curling upward like claws. Within minutes, more rose from the south and west, carried on the wind in choking plumes.“They’re not trying to take the city back,” Yara said behind him. “They’re erasing it.”Jason’s jaw tightened. “No—purging. They’re flushing out resistance pockets with targeted strikes. Clearing zones for full neural control.”Callen emerged from below, headset still on. “It’s coordinated. Drone swarms, incendiary payloads, and ground kill-teams moving in behind the fires. They’re sweeping block by block.”Jason stepped to the edge, scanning the burning streets. “How long until they reach us?”Callen’s answer was grim. “Two hours—maybe less.”***The war room was thick with tension. Maps sprawled across the table, digital overlays flashing red where purge teams were confirmed. The Severed Wing’s network chatter was frantic—safehouses evacuated, cache
Lockdown Protocol
The first sign came at dawn.Not from the Ravens’ usual broadcast channels, but from the city itself.Streetlights began strobing in synchronized bursts—three short flashes, one long. Then again.Jason didn’t need Callen’s grim expression to know it wasn’t random.“They’ve activated municipal override,” Callen said. “Traffic control, grid power, drone patrols—everything’s been rerouted to a single command hub.”“And I’m guessing they’re not using it to hand out free breakfasts,” Yara muttered.Jason turned toward the main display. The map of the city was no longer a patchwork of fractured red. Instead, crimson rings now pulsed outward from the central plaza, enclosing neighborhoods like a tightening noose.“Lockdown protocol,” Jason said quietly. “They’re sealing every district.”***Within an hour, reports poured in.Road barricades rose from the pavement, cutting off major intersections. Autonomous gun platforms deployed at choke points. Civilian traffic was halted entirely.More di
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