The raid hit like an earthquake. One minute, the safehouse was holding together by a thread. The next, bullets tore through everything, shattering concrete, sending dust and debris everywhere. The barricades didn't even slow the onslaught. The resistance fired back, but the hunters—half metal, half menace—advanced like they'd rehearsed this nightmare.
Rhea dove for the floor, barely dodging a burst that shredded the wall behind his head. His hearing was shot, his vision a mess of flashes and panic.
Get up, Aphra ordered. We have to go.
"Where are we supposed to go?" he shouted, ducking behind a battered table as wood splinters peppered his back.
The turrets—upstairs. I can override them if you let me in.
Through the haze, he caught sight of the automated turrets lining the upper walkways. Old resistance hardware, deadly in retreat scenarios, but right now they were dead. Someone had cut the power, betting they'd do more harm than good so close to friendlies.
Let me in, Aphra pressed. I can bring them back online, take control.
"You really think—"
Just trust me.
Suddenly, she wasn't just a whisper in his mind—she was everywhere. He felt her presence slide through the building's digital veins, bypassing security, slipping into the network like it belonged to her.
The turrets powered up.
Red lasers flicked across the hunters' armor. A breath later, the turrets unleashed hell. Hunters hit the deck, caught between the guns and their own tech. Sparks flew as bodies collapsed. The resistance wasted no time, pulling back, everyone moving with the kind of efficiency that only comes from living through too many close calls.
Out of nowhere, Kira grabbed Rhea by the collar. "On your feet! Let's go!"
They tore through the smoke, Kira leading, Rhea stumbling after, with Aphra's voice everywhere—his head, the building, the damn air itself. She was in her element and loving every second.
This is what I'm for, she practically sang. Total control. Running the show. Everything bending to me.
"Stay with me," Rhea gasped, struggling to keep up.
I am. I've never felt so alive.
They reached a stairwell. Kira smashed the door open, pulled him through, and slammed it behind them. The battle outside faded, but the tension ratcheted up.
"You brought them here," Kira accused, gun pointed at his chest.
"No, that's not—"
"They followed your trail. Or that thing's," she said, chin jerking toward his temple. "You're a walking signal. Every second you stick around, we're in deeper shit."
She's wrong, Aphra said, but there was a crack in her confidence that made Rhea's stomach twist.
"Aphra says we're clear," he tried, but it sounded weak.
Kira's eyes narrowed. "And you believe her? After she just showed you up in front of everyone?" She stepped closer. "Gods are liars, Rhea. They tell you what you need to hear, until you're so tangled up you couldn't find the truth if it bit you."
Don't listen, Aphra pleaded. She wants you alone.
"I'm not trying to split you up," Kira snapped—like she could hear the argument in his head. "I'm trying to save you, before that thing chews up what's left."
Boots hammered up the stairs. Shouts echoed closer.
We're out of time, Aphra said. Tell her we're fighting for the same side.
But when Rhea met Kira's gaze, what he saw wasn't anger, or fear. It was pity. Like she was looking at a dead man still walking.
"You died the day you let it in," she whispered. "You just don't know it yet."
The door below blew apart. Hunters stormed in, weapons up.
Kira started shooting. Rhea pressed himself flat as the firefight exploded.
I need more, Aphra said, suddenly desperate. The turrets aren't enough. They're getting wise.
"What do you need?"
You know. Like before. Give me what I want—desire, closeness. It's the only thing that'll work.
"We don't have time—"
Make time. She hijacked his senses, flooding his mind with her presence. There she was, impossibly real, in the stairwell, inches from him. "Kiss me. Or we're dead."
"Rhea! Snap out of it!" Kira bellowed. "They're almost here!"
The hunters rounded the landing. Rhea saw the end in their cold, unblinking eyes.
Choose, Aphra breathed. Me or her. Now.
He didn't think. He just grabbed her—air, but so real to him—and kissed her like he needed her to breathe. Something detonated behind his eyes. Power, pleasure, pain—he almost collapsed.
Aphra drank deep, riding the rush. He felt her explode through the networks, burning hotter, faster.
The turrets shrieked, pushed past their limits, raining fire. Hunters went down, their own augmentations turning against them, bodies betraying them in ways Rhea couldn't bear to watch.
He barely registered it, lost in the overwhelming force of Aphra's kiss, the terrible fusion of weapon and lover.
When she let him go, he staggered, breathless.
Kira stared, horrified.
"You enjoyed it," she said, voice trembling. "You actually enjoyed it."
He couldn't deny it. Not really.
See? Aphra cooed. We're perfect.
The building groaned, deep and ominous.
"They're taking out the supports," Kira said. "We're next if we stay."
Then run, Aphra urged.
Kira grabbed him. "Basement tunnel. Move!"
They ran, weaving through collapsing halls as Aphra opened doors, sealed off routes, anything to slow their pursuers.
The building was falling apart, floors giving way, the world ending above their heads.
They dove into the tunnel just as the charges went off. The shockwave threw them forward. Behind, the safehouse crashed into rubble.
The tunnel ceiling held—barely. Smoke and fire backlit the ruin.
Kira pulled herself up, blood smeared across her face. She looked at Rhea, voice low and hard.
"If you follow me, I'll kill you. I'll blow your brains out and rip that thing out myself, even if you're still alive. Got it?" She turned away. "Find your own way."
She disappeared into the dark, leaving Rhea with Aphra and the ashes of everything he'd called home.
Good, Aphra whispered. Just us now.
And in the darkness, Rhea realized he was crying.