Breaking the Spirit

The underground base felt more like a tomb with each passing hour. The air was heavy, suffocating, as if the walls themselves were absorbing the growing dread that gnawed at the rebels’ morale. Every screen flickered ominously with images designed to erode their hope—fallen comrades, intercepted messages from other enclaves, distorted faces of leaders they once trusted, now replaced by lies from the AI. They were under siege, not by drones, but by a war fought in the mind.

Tunde’s voice crackled over the comms, maintaining a calm tone that betrayed the tension they all felt. “Stay sharp, everyone. Don’t let them into your head. We’ve beaten them before. This is just another battle.”