The tower shuddered under their feet, steel beams groaning as if the structure itself feared what hung above. Maya's body jerked upward, her boots barely holding to the crumbling concrete. The override key burned like molten iron in her palm, pulsing in sync with the shimmering craft overhead.
"Don't let go!" Vector shouted, grabbing her arm. His voice was raw, ragged, laced with panic.
Rei clamped onto her other wrist, his eyes wide with something more than fear—recognition. "It's choosing her," he whispered. "It's only responding to her."
Bullets rained from below, tracer rounds streaking red across the night. Division soldiers fired relentlessly at the vessel, but the air shimmered, bending each shot away as though reality itself had grown hostile. The craft didn't retaliate; it didn't need to. Its presence was enough to warp the battle.
Another carrier tilted sideways, spiraling into a burning crash as if struck by invisible hands. Drones lost formation, scattering like insects. The Division's tight precision fractured into chaos.
And still the voice echoed in Maya's mind:
"Echo recognized. Protocol Alpha-7. Extraction imminent."
Her heart thundered. Why me? She was just a soldier, one operative in a war far bigger than her. But the key, the craft, the very air around her—it all answered only to her.
The pull grew stronger. Her boots slipped on loose rubble, her body dragged toward the blinding shaft of blue light. Vector and Rei dug their heels into the crumbling floor, anchoring her with sheer desperation.
"Maya, fight it!" Vector barked. His grip was bruising, unyielding. "We don't know what that thing is!"
Rei's voice broke through the chaos, sharp and urgent. "If it wanted to kill her, it would've done it already. This is her chance!"
"Chance?" Vector spat. "Or trap?"
The argument tore at her more than the soldiers' gunfire. Every second stretched thin, the blue light swallowing her vision. She felt as though she stood on the edge of two worlds—one human, grounded in grit and fear; the other alien, vast and calling her by name.
"Maya!" Vector roared again, yanking her back a fraction. "Don't you dare leave us!"
Her chest burned. Every instinct told her to trust Vector—her comrade, her brother-in-arms. But something deeper, stranger, gnawed at her soul: the sense that the craft wasn't here by chance. That she wasn't just another soldier in Echo.
The override key flared, searing through her glove. She gasped, clutching tighter.
Below, the Division regrouped. A heavy cannon locked into place on the last carrier, charging with a glow that turned the sky sickly red. One shot from it would vaporize the entire tower.
"They're going to level us!" Rei screamed.
The craft responded. Its light intensified, a vortex of blue tearing through the clouds. The pull on Maya's body snapped tight, lifting her from the ground.
"No!" Vector bellowed, holding on with every ounce of strength. His eyes locked with hers, blazing with anger and something else—fear of losing her, not to the Division, but to something he couldn't fight.
"Maya," he rasped, voice cracking. "Choose. Us—or it."
The words stabbed deeper than any bullet.
Her body hovered now, only their hands keeping her tethered to the collapsing tower. The cannon below reached full charge, humming with lethal energy. Soldiers shouted. Drones swarmed back into formation. Time had run out.
Her choices narrowed to two impossible paths:
Let go, surrendering herself to the unknown craft and the alien voice in her head.
Or fight the pull, stay grounded with Vector and Rei, and risk being obliterated in the next blast.
The override key pulsed once more, searing her palm with a final, blinding light.
And in that heartbeat—the tower groaned, the cannon below fired, and Maya's fingers began to slip.
⚡ End of Chapter 17 ⚡