Killy jolted awake, his breath uneven, the Shill’s haunting words from the dream echoing in his mind like a lingering curse—“I know you’re coming back to me… The Lattice is my bridge, and you are my key.” He sat up in the bunk, the Trident dark beside him, its fluid still and waiting, a silent promise of the fight ahead. The lab was quiet, the monitors casting a faint blue-green glow across the cluttered space, their soft hum mingling with the steady rhythm of the nanobot tanks, a mechanical heartbeat that contrasted with the chaos in his chest. The air carried the faint scent of damp earth, the oak roots weaving through the walls a reminder of the cove outside, grounding him in the reality he’d returned to. But the Shill’s revelation weighed heavily—the entity’s desire to physically access the third density, to walk in Killy’s world, was a threat far greater than he’d anticipated, a looming catastrophe that could unravel everything. He rubbed his face, his jaw clenching, his pulse racing as he thought of the Lattice kids, their pain and fear driving him forward, and the kids sleeping nearby—Clay, Nora, Reese, and Junior—whose safety was a fragile hope he clung to, a beacon in the darkness. His determination hardened; he couldn’t let the Shill cross into their reality, no matter the cost, no matter the trap that might be waiting.
He glanced across the lab, the dim light catching Lane’s form in his bunk, already awake, his posture tense as he sat on the edge, his hands resting on his knees, the faint glow of the monitors outlining his silhouette. A silent understanding passed between them, a shared resolve that needed no words—they both knew it was time. They moved quietly, careful not to wake the kids, their footsteps muffled on the lab’s uneven floor as they gathered their gear. Killy slung a small pack over his shoulder, the weight of the EMP devices, the nanite disruptor for the ZPE core, and the wrist device to control Hux’s drones a tangible reminder of the mission’s stakes. Lane grabbed his own gear, his Trident tucked into his belt, its fluid dark but ready, the faint clink of the EMP cylinders against his pack the only sound breaking the silence. They slipped out of the lab, the door creaking faintly as they stepped into the early morning air, the chill of fall sharp against their skin, the scent of moss and saltwater from the nearby cove grounding them in the moment, the transition from the lab’s warmth to the outside air a stark shift that mirrored the uncertainty ahead.
The hidden cove outside Hux’s lab was still cloaked in predawn darkness, the faint glow of the horizon a distant promise of dawn, the air thick with the scent of saltwater and damp earth. The Shadowfin waited at the rickety dock, its matte black hull barely visible in the shadows, the glowing conduits along its sides pulsing faintly, a quiet heartbeat of Ascendancy tech that kept it hidden. Killy and Lane worked quickly, loading their gear onto the yacht, their movements practiced but tense, the weight of the mission pressing on them like a physical force. The cloaking device hummed softly as they powered up the boat, its vibrations reverberating through the deck, a reminder of Hux’s ingenuity, the tech that would keep them concealed as they approached the DC stronghold. Killy paused for a moment, his hand resting on a crate of EMP devices, his thoughts drifting back to the lab, to the kids sleeping inside, their faces flashing through his mind—Clay’s restless energy, Nora’s quiet strength, Reese’s shy resilience, Junior’s steady presence. The guilt of leaving without a goodbye gnawed at him, but his resolve to keep them safe, to spare them the pain of another farewell, overrode the ache in his chest.
The comm device at Killy’s belt crackled to life, the sound sharp in the quiet cove, Reese’s voice coming through, soft but tinged with a reproach that made Killy’s heart clench. “That was pretty sneaky, leaving without saying goodbye,” she said, her tone a mix of hurt and understanding, her voice small but clear through the faint static, the crackle of the device underscoring the distance between them. Killy’s breath caught, a pang of guilt hitting him hard, but he responded gently, his voice steady as he crouched to speak into the device, the dock creaking beneath him. “You’re our eyes and ears, Reese. You’ll be with us the whole time, guiding us, keeping us safe. Goodbye wasn’t necessary—you’re not going anywhere.” Reese’s voice softened, a faint tremble in her words as she let him off the hook, “Okay, Killy. Just… be careful.” Killy’s chest warmed at her forgiveness, but he needed to ensure the others stayed out of it for now. “Promise me you won’t wake the others,” he said, his tone firm but kind. “It’ll be a while before we need an eye in the sky. Let them rest—they’ll need it.” Reese agreed, her voice steadying, “I promise.”
Lane secured the last of the gear, his movements brisk, but as he straightened, he leaned against the railing of The Shadowfin, his tone a mix of frustration and self-deprecation, the faint glow of the conduits casting shadows across his frame. “I must be crazy, risking my neck to help you,” he said, his voice low but sharp, his hands tightening on the railing, the tension in his shoulders evident even in the dim light. “I had a good thing going, you know. I see two bumpkins in the woods, try to help them out, and now look at me—sneaking into an Ascendancy stronghold, hunted by my own father. No good deed, huh?” Killy smirked, a faint chuckle escaping him, his voice steady as he adjusted the wrist device on his arm, the screen flickering to life with a soft hum. “It’s not my fault—or Junior’s—that you’ve grown a conscience, Carver. You could’ve walked away, but you didn’t. That’s on you.”
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A soft chitter broke the tension, Sprocket popping out from Lane’s gear pack, his tail glowing yellow, the patterns flickering rapidly as he bounced onto the deck, his tiny paws waving with excitement. “Lane better! Lane need more people. Good people!” he squeaked, his voice high and earnest, his small body vibrating with loyalty, his cybernetic ears twitching as he looked between them, a quirky defender of Killy’s cause. Lane’s expression softened, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips as he reached down to scratch Sprocket’s head, the squirrel nuzzling into his hand, his tail glowing brighter, a small moment of lightness amidst the mission’s weight.
The Shadowfin took off with a soft hum, its engines purring as it glided down the Potomac River, the water dark and still, the sky a deep indigo with the first hints of dawn touching the horizon, painting the edges of the clouds in faint gold. The air was sharp with the scent of river water and damp earth, the yacht cutting through the waves with ease, the cloaking device keeping them hidden, its vibrations a steady rhythm beneath their feet. The journey was smooth, the silence between Killy and Lane filled with the gentle lapping of water against the hull, the occasional chirp of a bird in the distance, the rustle of leaves along the riverbanks as they passed. Killy stood at the bow, his hands gripping the railing, the faint vibration of the deck grounding him as he focused on the Lattice kids, their suffering a constant pull, the Shill’s words echoing faintly in his mind—“You’ll come to me, Killian.” The calm of the journey felt like the quiet before a storm, the tension of the mission a quiet undercurrent that neither of them could ignore.
Right before they reached the shore near the stronghold, Killy felt a compulsion to speak, his voice low and urgent, the weight of the dream pressing on him like a physical force. “Lane, I think we’re walking into a trap,” he said, turning to face him, his tone heavy with the truth he’d been holding back. He explained the Shill’s revelation—that scrubbing the nanobots was useless, that the Shill knew he was coming, that it wanted to use the Lattice to cross into the third density, to walk in their world as a physical being. Lane’s expression tightened, his hands gripping the helm, annoyance flashing across his face as he responded, his voice sharp but controlled. “You waited until we’re past the point of no return to tell me? I figured we were walking into a trap, but knowing it for sure would’ve been nice sooner, Killy.” Killy’s guilt surged, his voice sincere as he offered an out, his tone steady despite the tension between them. “No hard feelings if you want to leave me on my own. This isn’t your fight—not really.”
Lane shook his head, his voice firm but weary, his hands still tight on the helm as he guided The Shadowfin toward the shadowed bank, the faint glow of the stronghold’s force fields visible in the distance, a shimmering blue-violet against the predawn sky. “I’ve got a stake in this too, now,” he said, his tone resolute, a quiet resignation beneath his words. “My father knows I’m alive—Victor won’t stop hunting me for the rest of my life. I’m in this, Killy, whether I like it or not.”
Killy hesitated, his voice cautious as he asked, “Does that mean you’re planning to kill him—your own father?” Lane’s tone softened, a mix of hope and resignation, his shoulders slumping slightly as he spoke, a memory of Victor’s ruthlessness flashing through his mind, a cold command to eliminate a traitor without hesitation.
“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said, his voice quieter now, a longing for a different outcome evident in his words. “I’d rather find some kind of resolution, a way to end this without more blood. But I don’t know if that’s possible with him.”
They fell silent, the weight of Lane’s words settling over them, the hum of The Shadowfin’s engines a steady backdrop as they approached their destination. They docked the yacht in a hidden spot among the reeds, the hull scraping softly against the muddy shore, the cloaking device still active to keep it concealed, the splash of water against the hull a soft counterpoint to the rustle of the reeds in the early morning breeze. The woods beyond the bank were dense with ancient oaks, their branches heavy with moss, the air thick with the scent of damp leaves and earth, the faint hum of the stronghold’s force fields audible in the distance, a constant reminder of the danger ahead.
Killy and Lane disembarked, their gear loaded, Tridents in hand, the fluid still dark but ready to flare to life at a moment’s notice. They moved silently into the woods, their footsteps muffled by the carpet of leaves, the shadows shifting around them as they navigated the uneven terrain, the glow of the stronghold growing brighter as they approached the tunnels that would lead them inside. The mission was underway, the Shill’s trap a looming threat, but their resolve held firm, the kids in the Lattice a beacon that drove them forward, the darkness of the trees closing in around them like a shroud.