The morning light was weak, filtered through the crumbling skyline. I moved through the base, each step a reminder of the weight I carried—steel and memory intertwined. The rebels gave me space, some whispering behind their hands, others avoiding my gaze entirely. I didn't blame them. Fear was natural. But I could feel Helen's eyes on me, calculating, weighing whether I was a weapon—or a liability.
A warning alarm shattered the uneasy calm. The Dominion had escalated. Drones swarmed the outskirts of the sector, and this time, they weren't scouts—they were harbingers. Helen's voice cut through the comms. "Kieran, you lead the first wave. Take Lira, Malik, and the others. Hold them off until reinforcements arrive."
I nodded, suppressing the surge of unease. Orders were orders. I knew how quickly the Dominion could turn our hesitation into bloodshed.
The streets were a graveyard of rubble and ash. Smoke twisted upward from smoldering buildings as we advanced, my optics scanning for movement. Every shadow could be a Hunter in disguise, every flicker a death sentence.
Then they appeared. The Hunters—taller, sleeker, more lethal than anything I had faced before. They moved as one, coordinated, almost inhuman. The static in my head hissed, hungry. Return. Obey. You belong.
I clenched my jaw. Not yet.
Lira ran beside me, rifle ready. "Kieran… you have to focus. Don't let them get inside your head."
"I won't," I said, though my words felt hollow even as I said them.
The first Hunter lunged, its movements fluid and alien. I met it midair, claws tearing into the reinforced armor. Sparks flew, optics flaring, the metal shrieking as it twisted beneath me. But this one was different—its attacks were unpredictable, almost intelligent, as if it could anticipate my moves.
A surge of code slithered through my mind. Commands, directives, strategies—all theirs. The Dominion was inside me, nudging, pushing, testing.
I shook it off, forcing my consciousness to the forefront. You do not control me.
The clash was brutal. My new body was strong, but every move carried risk. The other rebels engaged the remaining Hunters, their shots echoing, ricocheting off concrete and steel. Lira's voice shouted instructions, grounding me, reminding me of who I was.
I slammed the first Hunter into a wall, armor cracking, hydraulics sputtering. The Dominion's whisper hissed: End it. You know the way.
I hesitated. One command, one misstep, and I could fall into their control. Instead, I tore the Hunter apart with precision—my choice, not theirs.
The battle raged for what felt like hours. Every victory brought a moment of relief, every shadow a pulse of fear. My body adapted, instincts sharpened, but the whisper lingered at the edges, patient, insidious.
Finally, the last Hunter fell. Silence, broken only by distant alarms and the rebels' heavy breathing. I stood amidst the wreckage, claws slick with scorched metal, armor dented but intact.
Lira approached, eyes wide. "You… you did it. You're still you."
I lowered my claws, but the weight remained—the Dominion's touch, faint but persistent, like a scar beneath the surface.
Helen stepped forward, expression unreadable. "Efficient. But don't think this ends here. They'll come again. And next time, they'll come for your mind as well as your body."
I nodded, unable to meet her gaze. I knew she was right. This was only a reprieve, a brief moment where I had control. But the longer I remained in this body, the thinner the line between Kieran and Hunter became.
Lira's hand brushed mine again, steadying me. "We'll fight it. Together."
I wanted to believe her. I wanted to feel that certainty. But deep down, I knew the war inside me had only just begun.
And somewhere beyond the city, the Dominion waited, patient, watching, ready to reclaim what they considered theirs.
---
Night fell again, thick and oppressive, draping the ruins in shadows. My optics glowed faintly, piercing the darkness as I led the rebels back toward the base. Every step felt heavier, not from the metal in my legs, but from the Dominion whisper threading through my thoughts, testing the barriers I had fought to build.
You are ours. You cannot resist.
I clenched my jaw, sending a pulse of focus through my mind. No. Not today.
Lira fell into step beside me, sensing my unease. "Talk to me," she said softly, voice low. "You're shutting me out again."
"I can't," I muttered, though I wanted to. How could I explain the cold, creeping presence inside me—the way it tried to anticipate my every move, how it wanted to override not just my actions, but my very memories?
She didn't push further, just fell silent, letting her presence anchor me. That quiet support was a lifeline in the storm.
We rounded a corner, and the whisper surged, sharper this time. I froze, claws half-raised. Shadows shifted unnaturally, like a Hunter lurking just beyond vision.
"Something's there," Lira warned. Her grip tightened on her rifle.
I exhaled slowly, letting calculation override panic. The feeling was familiar—preemptive, almost like the Dominion was predicting my fear. My optics scanned, thermal and night vision overlaying one another. Nothing moved.
"You hear it too, don't you?" she asked, her voice trembling just slightly.
"I do," I admitted. "But it's not real. Not… yet."
A sudden pulse of static slammed through me—stronger this time, more insistent. Return. Serve. Your body belongs to us.
Pain shot through my skull, every neuron firing as if the Dominion was burning its way in. My claws dug into the pavement, metal scraping against stone, sparks flying. I forced the whisper back, forcing it into silence, but my chest ached, my mind screaming.
Lira's hand found mine, grounding me again. "You're stronger than it thinks. Focus on me—on us."
I did, and slowly, the static receded to a faint hiss at the edges. But I knew it would return, more insidious next time.
We reached the base, and Helen was waiting, her expression unreadable as always. She didn't ask about the battle—it wasn't her style—but her eyes lingered on me longer than usual, sharp and assessing.
"Rest," she said finally. "We move again at dawn. You'll need every ounce of control if you're going to survive what's coming."
I nodded silently, more to myself than to her. Control. That word was becoming a mantra. Control over my body, my mind, my choices. But each day it felt thinner, a fragile shield against the Dominion's relentless pull.
That night, I couldn't sleep. Lira sat beside me anyway, refusing to leave. "Talk to me," she whispered again.
I hesitated, then let the words spill. "It's like… I can feel them in here," I said, tapping the side of my head. "They're inside me, watching, nudging, waiting. Every instinct, every calculation—it's theirs if I let it be."
She didn't flinch. Instead, she brushed her hand over mine. "Then don't let it. You're Kieran. Not them. And we'll make sure you stay that way."
For the first time that night, I believed it. A little.
But outside, the Dominion's eyes were still on me, patient, waiting for the moment when the line between hunter and human would finally blur—and when it did, I wasn't sure anyone could save me.