The return to the rebel stronghold was nothing like the triumphant victory Helen had promised in her briefing.
The convoy limped through the shattered streets, tires dragging, headlights dim in the haze of neon mist and smoke still clinging to the ruins. The transports rattled under the weight of the wounded. A few of the rebel fighters didn't even make it that far—their bodies were carried in silence, wrapped in scavenged tarps, laid across the cracked floors of the loading bay.
I followed behind in silence, footsteps echoing against steel, every whir of my servos sounding louder than the grief around me. Their eyes lingered on me. Some glared openly, others avoided looking at all, as if I were another drone marching in lockstep with the enemy.
Helen's face was unreadable when she stepped off the transport. The rain streaked through her silver hair as she barked orders, sending medics running. "Get them stable. Triage in the east wing. Move!"
No one disobeyed.
I stood there, unsure if I should move or stay, until Lira brushed past me. Her shoulder tapped mine gently, her voice low. "Come on. Don't just stand there."
We carried one of the wounded together, his weight slumping between us. My strength should've made it easier, but every step was heavier than the last. His breathing rasped, blood soaking through cloth. I could calculate his survival probability with a glance. Ninety-four percent fatal. But I didn't say anything. Not this time.
Inside, the stronghold was chaos. Medics working by dim light. Sparks leaping from half-dead terminals. The stink of smoke, blood, and ozone. Helen's voice cut through it all.
"We were outmaneuvered," she said, to no one in particular, but loud enough for the whole room to hear. "And someone will answer for it."
Her gaze flicked across the room, and for a fraction of a second, it stopped on me.
Lira noticed. "He saved us out there," she said, dropping her rifle onto the table. Her tone was sharp, defensive. "Without him, we wouldn't have made it back at all."
Helen's jaw clenched. She turned away, pacing. "Maybe. Or maybe he was doing exactly what the Dominion wanted—getting closer, winning our trust."
I finally spoke. My voice crackled with static, but the words came steady. "If that were true, you'd all be dead. They tried to trigger me. Override my systems. I fought it. You saw."
The room went quiet. Dozens of eyes burned into me, waiting for Helen's verdict.
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she leaned both hands on the map table, staring down at the holographic projection of the Dominion's stronghold. The glow cast her face in cold blue light. "Then explain this. Why did they know our exact route? Our timing? Someone tipped them off."
Murmurs spread like wildfire. Fingers pointed. Suspicion grew.
I could feel the shift—the rebels, already divided, now teetering between blaming me or blaming each other.
Lira slammed her fist onto the table. "Enough! He's not the spy. He fought beside me. He bled beside us."
The others muttered, unconvinced.
Helen finally straightened. Her eyes locked with mine, sharp, weighing. "Maybe you did save us. Maybe you fought them. But until I know why the Dominion wants you so badly, I'm not taking chances."
She stepped closer, her voice low enough only I could hear. "You're walking a knife's edge, Subject-09. One wrong move, and I'll cut you loose."
I didn't flinch. "I'm not your enemy."
Her lips curved, almost a smile, but it wasn't kind. "We'll see."
Hours bled into the night. The wounded were treated, the dead counted. The base settled into a restless silence, the kind that follows after too much loss.
I sat apart, staring at my hands—chrome fingers scarred from combat, streaked with grime. They didn't look like mine. They never would.
But then a faint whisper rose inside me. A voice, distant, mechanical, threading through the edges of my consciousness.
<< SUBROUTINE: ACTIVE. >>
<< OVERRIDE: FAILED. >>
<< ALTERNATE STRATEGY INITIATED. >>
I froze. My optics flickered.
The Dominion was still inside me. Not in control—but watching. Waiting.
"Kieran?"
I looked up. Lira was there, leaning against the wall, her eyes soft despite the exhaustion etched into her face. "You did good today. Better than most of us."
I wanted to tell her about the voice. The subroutine. The threat still gnawing inside me. But the words caught in my throat. She already fought too hard for me. If she knew the truth, she might stop.
So I just nodded. "Thanks."
She studied me for a long moment. "They'll come around. Even Helen. She just… doesn't know how to trust anymore."
"Can't blame her," I said quietly.
Her lips twitched into the faintest smile. "Still. You're here now. That counts for something."
She left me with that, slipping into the shadows of the hall.
But I didn't sleep. I couldn't. The whisper echoed too loud. Somewhere out there, the Dominion was recalibrating. Planning. And when they came again, it wouldn't just be drones.
It would be worse.
And I wasn't sure if I'd be able to stop it.
We needed a more concrete plan and what we lack was number. The Dominion had a huge number of drones and something more, while we were very less in number compared to them. Our defence system is weak and offensive is not best everytime.
Thereafter, if we can have some high yield artillery then it would increase the chance of rebels to deal a heavy damage.
But , If I would tell them mine plan, the percentage who not yet believe me, might see this a trap.
Even though I have gained a little trust of Helen , still it is not enough.
I sat on the steel bunk and thought about mine previous life , I have to find a way regain mine human body and understand the reason what caused the mishap to the quantum bridge experiment.
I remained in complete darkness thinking about the future and preparing for our next battle against the dominion ....