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Chapter 18

  The woods near the DC stronghold shimmered in the mid-morning light, the sun climbing higher, its golden rays slicing through the dense canopy of ancient oaks. Dappled patterns danced on the leaf-strewn ground, shifting with a faint breeze that rustled the leaves, their whispers blending with the distant, pulsing hum of the stronghold’s force fields—a constant, menacing heartbeat in the air. The scent of damp soil and moss hung heavy, the coolness of the forest a sharp contrast to the simmering tension among the three figures beneath the trees. A lone crow cawed overhead, its cry echoing through the branches, a stark reminder of the danger lurking just beyond the woods.

  Kimmy stirred against the rough bark of an oak, her wrists bound with reinforced cord from Lane’s gear, the fibers biting into her skin, leaving faint red welts. Her body slumped awkwardly against the trunk, her head throbbing where Lane’s tranq dart had struck, a dull ache radiating through her skull. Her limbs felt heavy, her mind clouded by the drug’s lingering haze, but the forest sounds—birds chirping, a squirrel skittering through the underbrush, the soft rustle of leaves—filtered through, grounding her as she slowly came to. The reality of her situation settled over her like a suffocating weight: captured, betrayed, and dragged into a fight she’d tried to leave behind. Her throat was dry, a metallic tang lingering on her tongue, a bitter reminder of Lane’s betrayal.

  Sprocket, perched on Lane’s shoulder a few feet away, noticed her stirring. His cybernetic tail glowed a soft yellow, the patterns steady but curious, his tiny ears twitching as he turned toward her. “Hi Kimmy!” he squeaked, his voice high and earnest, his small paws waving in a cheerful greeting, his body bouncing with excitement. The little bot’s familiarity cut through her disorientation, a small comfort amidst the chaos of her waking mind.

  Kimmy blinked, her vision clearing, the fog parting just enough to focus on the cybernetic squirrel. “Hey Sprocket,” she replied, her voice groggy, the words slurring slightly as she fought the tranq’s effects. Her throat scratched with each syllable, but the warmth in her tone was genuine. Sprocket tilted his head, his tail glowing brighter, a wistful note in his voice. “Missed Kimmy.”

  A flicker of warmth broke through Kimmy’s haze, her expression softening for a fleeting moment. “Missed you too, buddy,” she murmured, her slurred words carrying a quiet sincerity. Sprocket’s innocent affection stirred a memory—nights in the Ascendancy barracks, Sprocket curled on her bunk, his tail glowing softly as she wrestled with the weight of her orders, the hum of the Lattice room haunting her dreams. The memory stung, a reminder of what she’d been complicit in, and what she’d lost when the Ascendancy turned on her.

  The warmth vanished as her focus shifted to Lane and Killy, who stood nearby, their movements tense but focused. Lane checked the drones’ feeds on his wrist device, his brow furrowed, while Killy adjusted his Trident, its fluid dark but ready. The weight of their mission was etched into their postures—shoulders squared, jaws tight, eyes scanning the forest for threats. Kimmy’s expression hardened, the red glow of her cybernetic implant pulsing faintly as anger surged through her. Her voice cut through the morning air like a blade, sharp despite her grogginess. “You’ve got some nerve, Lane, drugging me again,” she snapped, her bound hands flexing in frustration, the cord digging deeper into her wrists. She turned her glare to Killy, her tone colder, more guarded. “And you—I remember you from the Lattice room, breaking in with him, causing chaos. I should’ve ended you both then. Now you’re dragging me into your suicide mission?”

  Her words carried the weight of her resentment—anger at Lane for abandoning her years ago, fury at Killy for the havoc he’d wrought in the Lattice room, a place that still haunted her, and the raw wound of the Ascendancy’s betrayal that fueled her defiance. She tugged at the cords, her muscles straining, but the knots held firm, a physical reminder of her vulnerability. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the birdsong fading for a moment as her voice echoed through the trees.

  Lane knelt beside her, his movements careful, his hands open in a gesture of peace. The morning light caught the faint lines of worry on his face, his green eyes searching hers for a crack in her armor. “You never belonged with those people, Kimmy,” he said, his voice calm but firm, carrying the weight of their shared history. “Look at what they did to you—tortured you, took your eye, exiled you for something you didn’t even do. They turned on you the second they thought you were a liability.” He paused, his voice softening, heavy with regret. A memory flashed through his mind—a heated argument in the Ascendancy barracks, her refusal to leave with him, the distance that had grown between them like a chasm. “I should’ve made you come with me when I faked my death,” he continued, his shoulders slumping slightly, the guilt of that decision a weight he couldn’t shake. “But things weren’t great between us then—I thought you’d never leave, not after everything we’d been through. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

  Kimmy’s jaw clenched, her bound hands tightening into fists, the cord digging deeper, leaving faint welts on her skin. Her voice was bitter, a mix of anger and buried pain, the red glow of her implant pulsing with her rising frustration. “Don’t act like you know me, Lane,” she said, her tone defiant, her words sharp despite the lingering fog in her mind. “I did what I had to do—followed orders, kept my head down. The Ascendancy gave me purpose, a place, even if it came at a cost. I didn’t have a choice back then. It was that or be branded a traitor, just like you.” She shook her head, her voice cutting, “You think I can just walk away now? After everything? They’ll hunt me down, same as they’re hunting you. I’m better off on my own.”

  Lane’s expression softened, his voice raw with emotion as he leaned closer, his hands resting on his knees, the scent of damp earth rising around them. “I know you, Kimmy,” he said, his tone gentle but firm, a memory surfacing—late nights in training, her quiet confessions about the missions that haunted her, the lives she couldn’t save. “You never liked what the Ascendancy made you do—their ‘necessary sacrifices,’ the people they crushed to keep power. You told me once how it ate at you, following orders that felt wrong, even if you couldn’t say it out loud. You hated being their champion as much as you needed it—you just couldn’t walk away. But you can now. You don’t owe them anything, not after what they did to you.”

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  Kimmy’s defiance faltered, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. A memory surged unbidden—the Lattice room, its air thick with the hum of quantum computers, the kids wired in, their small bodies pale and still, DMT dripping into their veins. She’d been there, standing guard under Victor’s orders, when Killy and Lane had broken in, their Tridents flashing, chaos erupting as they tried to free the children. She’d fought them, her orders clear, but the sight of those kids—Clay, Nora, the others—had twisted something inside her, a knot of guilt she couldn’t untie. She’d buried it under loyalty, telling herself it was for the Ascendancy’s vision, that the Shill’s crossing was inevitable, necessary. But Victor’s betrayal—her torture, the loss of her eye, her exile—had shattered that justification, leaving her raw and uncertain. She pushed the thought down, her voice still resistant, “That doesn’t change anything, Lane. I can’t just turn my back on everything I’ve known. They’ll find me, and I’ll be worse off than I am now.”

  Killy stepped forward, his boots crunching on the leaves, his voice steady but not aggressive. His Trident rested against his shoulder, its fluid dark but ready, his focus on the mission unwavering. The morning light cast long shadows across his frame, his weathered face set with determination. “You don’t owe us anything,” he said, his tone calm but resolute. “But you’ve seen what’s in that Lattice room—those kids, the Shill’s influence, the Ascendancy’s endgame. You were there when we broke in, Kimmy. You know what’s at stake. I’m going back to finish what I started, to save them, to stop the Shill from crossing over. You can help us, or you can run. But you can’t run forever.”

  Kimmy’s gaze locked onto Killy, her cybernetic eye whirring softly, the red glow dimming as his words hit home. She remembered that night in the Lattice room—the alarms blaring, Killy’s plasma blade flashing, Lane’s tranq darts flying, the kids’ vacant stares as she’d held her ground, her Trident raised against them. She’d followed orders, but the Shill’s whispers in the air, the way it hungered to cross into their world, had chilled her to the bone. The guilt had gnawed at her ever since, a festering wound the Ascendancy’s betrayal had only deepened. Killy’s resolve, his unyielding focus on the kids, stirred something in her—a flicker of the purpose she’d lost.

  Lane built on Killy’s words, his voice raw with emotion, his hands clenching into fists as the guilt of leaving her behind weighed on him. “I know I hurt you, Kimmy, leaving like I did,” he said, his tone heavy with regret. A memory flashed through his mind—a shared laugh over a stolen ration bar, a moment of warmth before their fallout, the pain of walking away from her. “I’ll carry that regret forever. But I’m here now, fighting for something better, for a world that doesn’t have to be this way. You don’t have to be alone anymore. Come with us—fight with us. We can protect each other, like we used to.”

  Sprocket chittered softly, his voice a pleading squeak, his tail glowing brighter, the patterns flickering with emotion as his small paws reached toward her. “Kimmy good! Stay with Sprocket!” he said, his innocent loyalty tugging at her emotions, reminding her of a time when she’d felt connected, cared for, before the Ascendancy’s betrayal. The forest around them seemed to soften, the breeze carrying the scent of pine, the sunlight filtering through the leaves in a gentle glow.

  Lane added a practical edge, his voice firm, his hands unclenching as he met her gaze. “Victor thinks you’re a traitor already—he’s not going to stop hunting you, same as me,” he said, his tone pragmatic, the reality of their situation a harsh truth. “But we’ve got a plan—take down the Lattice, cripple the stronghold’s power with the ZPE core. If we pull this off, the Ascendancy’s grip weakens. You’ll have a chance to disappear, start over, somewhere they can’t find you. But you can’t do that alone—not with them on your tail.”

  Kimmy’s resistance wavered, her expression softening as she looked at Sprocket, his glowing tail a small light in the shadowed woods, then at Lane, memories flooding back—the laughter they’d shared, the fights that had driven them apart, the trust they’d once had. She thought of the Lattice room, the kids’ vacant faces, the Shill’s whispers, the Ascendancy’s cold indifference to the lives they destroyed. Victor’s betrayal had cost her everything—her eye, her rank, her sense of belonging—and the idea of those kids suffering under the same system stirred a quiet rage in her chest. She glanced at Killy, his steady resolve a contrast to her turmoil, and saw the truth in his words: she couldn’t go back, not now.

  Her voice was quieter, conflicted, the red glow of her implant dimming slightly as she spoke. “I don’t know if I can trust you, Lane. Not after everything. And you, Killy—I tried to stop you once, and I failed. But… I can’t go back to them. Not after what they did.” She straightened, her tone resolute but guarded, the weight of her decision settling over her like a heavy cloak. “I’ll help you take down the Lattice, for the kids. But if this goes south, I’m gone. And I’m not promising to like either of you.”

  Lane nodded, a flicker of hope in his expression as he moved to untie the cord around her wrists. The fibers fell to the ground with a soft rustle, the leaves beneath crunching as he shifted his weight. He handed her Trident back, its handle cool against her palm, the weapon a symbol of the fragile trust he was placing in her. Killy kept a wary hand on his own Trident, his trust in her tentative, his focus on the kids unwavering.

  Kimmy took the weapon, her movements slow, the weight of her decision settling over her. Her expression was a mix of determination and uncertainty, the hum of the Trident a quiet promise of the fight ahead. The group stood, the tunnel entrance still a short distance away through the trees, the hum of the stronghold louder now, a pulsing reminder of their goal. They gathered their gear, their movements synchronized but tense, their alliance fragile but necessary. The mission to save the Lattice kids and stop the Shill was now a shared burden, the woods around them a silent witness to their uneasy truce, the sunlight filtering through the leaves a fleeting warmth against the darkness that awaited.

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