Chapter 3: The First Breach

Sera's fingers trembled slightly as she set down her headset. Her words still echoed in her mind: I want to try. She didn't know if Ren had heard the honesty in her voice, or if he would ever believe her, but saying it out loud made her conviction feel real. More real than her polished command uniform or the sterile halls of Osiren's command center.

The lights in the control room dimmed to a quiet hum as the other commanders logged off, their voices fading from the airwaves. Sera watched them go, each of them so accustomed to treating the Exiled like tools that they barely looked at the screens anymore. They'd given their orders, set up their traps and battle plans, and trusted the Exiled to carry them out without question.

Sera sat alone, feeling the weight of the silence and the hollow echo of her thoughts. She had known Osiren was built on sacrifice, but she'd always thought it was her sacrifice—her commitment to country and duty. Now, watching Ren and his team fight to survive in their exile, she saw that sacrifice from a different angle.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft chime on her console. She glanced down, half-expecting another mission briefing, another sterile command. But what she saw made her pause.

Unauthorized message access detected. Confirm decryption?

She hesitated. Unauthorized messages were strictly forbidden, punishable by court-martial. But her curiosity was stronger than her fear. She tapped confirm.

The message blinked to life, the lines of code rearranging into readable text.

FROM: Unknown sender

Subject: Operation Veilbreaker

We know you're watching them, Commander. And we know you're growing soft.

Sera's heart skipped a beat, a wave of cold fear prickling at her spine. She leaned closer, reading every word carefully.

The Exiled are tools, Commander. Nothing more. If you can't remember that, you might find yourself on the other side of those walls.

The screen went dark, as if the message had never existed. Sera stared at it, her mind racing. She knew of the surveillance measures within Osiren's ranks; she'd heard stories of other commanders suddenly reassigned for sympathizing with the Exiled. She'd thought they were just rumors, cautionary tales to keep everyone in line. But now, with the message still fresh in her mind, she realized they were true.

She leaned back, drawing in a shaky breath. The weight of her actions pressed down on her, making her question every step she'd taken since joining the command center. She'd always thought her empathy for the Exiled was her own secret, a flaw she could keep hidden. But someone was watching her, someone who wanted her to stay in line—or else.

Several miles away, Ren Kade lay awake in the makeshift barracks, a flimsy shelter of corrugated metal and patched canvas. The others were asleep, their breathing heavy and steady, a symphony of exhaustion. Only Elara was awake beside him, eyes flickering in the faint glow of a battery-powered lamp as she cleaned her rifle.

Ren's mind returned to Sera's words, the strange, almost haunted way she'd spoken to him. Her hesitation, her uncertainty—it wasn't like the other commanders he'd known. Most of them had been distant voices, barking orders with the coldness of a machine, as though they weren't even speaking to people. Sera, though… she sounded human, and that was something he hadn't expected.

"You're thinking about her again," Elara said quietly, not looking up from her work.

Ren scowled, but there was no bite in it. "You say that like I trust her."

Elara shrugged, her fingers working the oiled cloth over the metal of her weapon. "You wouldn't be talking to her if you didn't trust her a little. You know that."

Ren sighed, rubbing his temples. "Maybe. But she's still one of them. They're all the same, Elara. Just because one of them speaks a little softer doesn't mean she cares."

Elara paused, her gaze drifting over to him. "People can surprise you, Ren. Even Purebloods."

Ren looked away, his jaw clenched. He wanted to believe that, to think there was someone in Osiren who saw them as more than disposable soldiers. But every loss, every friend he'd buried in these blood-soaked lands, reminded him of the price of that kind of hope.

He turned to Elara, his voice low. "If she's different, then she has to prove it. Until then, I'm not counting on anyone but us."

As he spoke, a loud, metallic groan sounded from outside, followed by a low, constant hum. Ren and Elara exchanged a glance, both instinctively reaching for their weapons.

"What now?" Ren muttered, already moving toward the door.

They stepped outside, blinking into the dim light of the dawn. The entire squad was awake now, their eyes trained on the horizon where a line of glimmering lights moved steadily toward them.

"N-Types," Elara whispered, her face pale in the early light.

Ren's stomach dropped. They weren't supposed to encounter any units this close to their base—not without intel from command. Something was wrong.

As he raised his communicator to alert Sera, her voice cut through the static.

"Ren—Unit 07, do you copy?"

"We're here, Commander," he replied, his voice tense. "We've got N-Types moving on our position. Care to explain?"

Sera's voice sounded breathless, almost panicked. "They've… they've breached our systems. The N-Types are moving on their own, ignoring our commands. I can't get control of them."

Ren felt a cold wave of dread wash over him. If the N-Types weren't responding to Sera, then they were operating autonomously, programmed with one goal: eliminate the Exiled.

"Fall back!" he ordered, signaling his squad to retreat into the cover of the nearby ruins.

"Wait, Ren!" Sera's voice stopped him. "There's a facility near your position, just south of Grid C-14. It's an old bunker, abandoned years ago, but it has reinforced doors. You could shelter there."

He hesitated, glancing at Elara. "And why should we trust you?"

"Because it's either that or try to outrun those machines," Sera replied, her voice steady despite the fear lurking beneath it. "I'm sending you the coordinates now."

He clenched his teeth, his mind racing. If she was leading them into a trap, this would be the end. But if she was telling the truth, the bunker might be their only chance.

"Fine," he said, relenting. "We're moving to the coordinates. If this goes wrong, Commander…"

"I know," she replied quietly. "Just… stay safe, Ren."

He didn't answer. The squad moved quickly, darting through the ruins as the hum of the N-Types grew louder, their lights piercing the morning mist like searchlights. The ground trembled beneath their feet as the machines advanced, unrelenting, every step a reminder of the threat looming over them.

They reached the bunker, an imposing metal door looming out of the rubble, rusted and covered in grime. Ren punched in the code Sera had sent, and with a groan, the door began to slide open, revealing a dark, empty corridor beyond.

"Inside, now!" Ren barked, ushering his squad through. They scrambled inside, the door sealing shut just as the N-Types crested the hill, their red lights casting an ominous glow over the barren landscape outside.

As the silence settled around them, Ren leaned against the wall, his pulse finally beginning to slow. They were safe. For now.

He lifted his communicator, speaking in a low, weary voice. "You were right. The bunker held."

Sera's relief was palpable, even over the comm. "Thank you, Ren. I—I'm glad you're safe."

Ren closed his eyes, exhaustion weighing on him. For the first time, he allowed himself a flicker of trust.

"Maybe you're not all the same," he murmured, barely loud enough for her to hear.