“Yeah.” I shook my head. “Yeah, I’m fuckin’ fine. Let’s go.” I pulled my gun back out and cocked it, chambering a round.
Maddox leaned down and threw Taos over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“What are you doing?”
“Orders are that all viable insurgents are to be brought to B3.” He shifted her weight, stabilizing himself.
Why the fuck would we do that? And who had been tracking Eon? I was alpha clearance, I should have known about a mission like that. Something was wrong, but all my thoughts were on getting to her.
The path to the junction was eerily quiet, the usual hum of server operations replaced by the irregular pulse of overtaxed systems. The air grew thicker as we descended, charged particles dancing visibly in the emergency lighting.
“Cy,” Maddox said as we paused at a security checkpoint, its systems long dead, “what exactly is the game plan?”
I didn’t look at him, focusing instead on bypassing the lock manually. “Getting to Eon.”
“And then what?” His tone was careful, neutral. “You bringing her in, or…”
The lock clicked open, and I finally met his gaze. “I’m not letting POM have her.”
Understanding dawned in his eyes, and Taos nearly slipped out of his grip. “That’s treason.”
“Probably.” I held my weapon close. I hoped he wouldn’t make me use it. He was a good partner.
He was silent for a long moment, weighing something in his mind. Then he checked his weapon, his expression hardening into resolve. “Then I guess we’re both fucked.”
I hadn’t realized until that moment how much I needed Maddox on my side. A partner, when everything else was crumbling.
“Just like that?”
He nodded. “Partners have each other’s backs. Even when one is a complete dumbass. Try not to get us killed. Mercedes and I have a date.”
“Women, huh?”
We moved deeper into the complex, the building’s infrastructural integrity deteriorating with each passing minute. My helmet showed heat signatures ahead—the distinctive pattern of the beta squad, and beneath that, something familiar. Something that called to me like a beacon.
Eon.
She was alive, but her signal was weak. Whatever was happening down there, I needed to reach her before it was too late.
I pushed forward, my awareness narrowing to a single purpose: find her, protect her, get her out. Everything else—my loyalty to POM, my years of service, the pain of my implants—faded to background noise.
For the first time in my life, electricity flowed through me not as a weapon or tool, but as pure intent. As I descended toward the junction where everything would converge, I finally understood what had drawn me to Eon from the beginning.
In a world of ironclad control and engineered compliance, we were the same kind of glitch—unpredictable variables in a system that couldn’t account for what happens when two opposing frequencies find their perfect resonance.
CHAPTER 63
CY
The junction chamber opened before us like a cathedral of failing technology. The central hub—a massive cylindrical structure where all lines connected—rose from the center of the floor like a sacrificial altar, its surfaces crawling with data projections and warning alerts.
Beta squadron had established a perimeter. Thirty troops at least, their featureless masks reflecting the erratic Stellarium light as they stood in perfect formation. Between them, kneeling on the metal grating with hands bound behind their backs, were the rebels—maybe a dozen figures, heads bowed in defeat.
And Eon.
She knelt apart from the others. Even from this distance, I could see the violet sparks dancing ineffectively across her skin, her power weak. Her face was bruised, blood trickling from her nose, but her eyes still burned with defiance as she stared up at the soldiers surrounding her.
Maddox set Taos down with the others, then we joined the ranks, not ready to out ourselves yet. My helmet fed me tactical data, but I didn’t need it to know the truth. There were too manyassets for a frontal assault, and any crossfire would risk hitting Eon.
