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“Anytime.”
The square ahead is a whirlwind of violence. Betas and omegas fight with a ferocity that matches any alpha I’ve seen. We’re in it now, deep, and it’s all about survival.
“Vance!” I yell as I see him tackled to the ground. Without thinking, I dive into the melee, pulling bodies off him, throwing punches, my gun long forgotten. He rolls to his feet, and together we stand back-to-back, fending off the onslaught.
“Didn’t think I’d need rescuing,” Vance spits out, a wicked slash appearing across his cheek.
“Today’s full of surprises,” I shoot back.
Rain mingles with the blood on the cobblestones of New Eden. The air crackles with gunfire and the raw shouts of Eclipse soldiers trying to hold a line against the enraged colonists.
“Left flank!” Oberon bellows, his voice slicing through the noise like a cleaver. We dive into the fray side by side, the rhythm of our movements synced up after years of fighting together. His fist connects with a soldier’s jaw, an audible crunch that echoes in my head as I slam another into the ground.
“Rook, you got us covered?” I yell over the sound of my own heart pounding in my ears.
“Always,” he replies, the word punctuated by the sharp report of his rifle. I don’t need to look up to know he’s dropping Eclipse goons with every pull of the trigger. His drone hovers above, a silent guardian angel made of steel and circuits, its cameras feeding him all he needs to be our unseen protector from above.
Vance is a hurricane, a force of nature tearing through the enemies with a ferocity that would make lesser men quake. He moves with a brutal grace, each strike calculated to inflict maximum damage. An Eclipse brute charges him, and Vance meets him head-on. Bones break, flesh tears, and it’s over before the attacker even has a chance to regret his decision.
“Keep pushing!” I shout, but the words are unnecessary. The team moves as one, a unit forged in the fires of countless battles, unspoken understanding guiding our tactics.
We press forward, each step hard-earned as we reclaim the colony square inch by bloody square inch. Rook’s laughter rings out, a wild sound that somehow boosts my adrenaline even further.
“Stick close!” I command, and we do, a tight circle of death dealing retribution on those who dared to think they could control us. In the end, it’s not just about survival—it’s about sending a message. And we’re writing it in the blood of our enemies.
Rain pelts down, turning the chaos in the main square into a slippery dance of death. Betas and omegas, fueled by desperation and newfound fury, clash with Eclipse agents. The lines blur as some alphas throw in with the rebels, their roars mingling with those of their former prey. I grip my weapon tighter, senses on high alert.
“Left!” Vance barks, and I pivot just in time to see an agent lunging at me with a jagged knife. I parry, pushing him back, and Vance’s fist connects with the man’s jaw, a crack echoing above the din. We’re back to back now, a cyclone of violence whirling around us.
“Where’s Oberon?” I yell over the noise, scanning for that familiar mane of hair, but he’s gone, swallowed up by the melee.
“Lost him,” Vance replies, his voice even, controlled. An Eclipse alpha charges, bloodlust clear in his eyes. Vance doesn’t flinch; he steps into the attack, dispatches him with a swift, precise move that leaves the attacker crumpled on the ground.
“Behind you!” It’s not Vance’s voice—higher, sharper. I react without thought, spinning to find an omega, small but fierce, a pistol flashing in her hands as she takes down another enemy who had been creeping up on me.
“Thanks,” I grunt, nodding at her, and then we’re back to it. This is no organized fight; it’s survival, pure and simple.
Vance is a monster among men, every blow he lands speaks of his dominance, each takedown a testament to his strength. But even monsters can be overrun.
“Need a hand?” The question is punctuated by the thud of a body hitting the ground—another Eclipse soldier taken out.
“Who the hell—“ I begin, turning to see an alpha standing there, calm in the eye of the storm. His presence tips the scales, and suddenly it feels like we might just pull through this.
“Later,” he says, and together, the four of us become a force unto ourselves, cutting a path through the onslaught.
When the last of the Eclipse agents falls, silence crashes down like the break after a thunderclap. I’m panting, heart hammering against my ribs as I survey the square—our square now.
“Name’s Lark,” says the omega, wiping her hands on her jeans as she holsters her gun. Her eyes are bright, alive with fire. “And this is Isaiah.”
“Appreciate the assist,” I tell them, my respect earned in battle—a currency worth more than words.
“Looks like you’re hunting bigger game,” Isaiah says, a knowing look in his eyes. “The Stargazer?”
Vance glares at him. “You know her?”
“I was at Dreamland,” Lark chimes in. “She’s my friend, and I need to save her.”
I exchange a look with Vance, who doesn’t seem convinced. I don’t know if we can trust these people, but without Rook’s map, they’re all we’ve got.
