FRACTURED FREQUENCIES

The satellite array loomed on the horizon like a steel crown atop Mount Veyla, its skeletal towers clawing at the ash-choked sky. Amir crouched behind a rusted supply truck, his breath fogging the cracked lens of his binoculars. The compound below crawled with Silhouette soldiers—black-armored ants swarming the perimeter, drones patrolling the barbed-wire fences, and the glint of sniper scopes dotting every guard tower. 

Clara knelt beside him, her fingers flying across Chomo's tablet. The screen flickered with stolen schematics. "Main dish alignment in 47 minutes," she muttered. "That's when the Rebirth signal locks onto the global satellite network. Once it does…" 

"We all become statistics in their 'cleaner world,'" Yami finished, cleaning his pistol with methodical precision. His eyes lingered on Clara, unreadable. 

Karim materialized from the shadows, his grin sharp under the red glow of a Silhouette flare. "Distraction's ready. Got enough explosives to make the mountain sing." 

Lina adjusted the shockstick strapped to her thigh. "And if your fireworks show gets us killed?" 

"Then we die loud," Karim said, tossing her a spare charge. "Better than choking on nano-toxins." 

Amir's palms itched. The plan was insanity—Karim and Lina would blow the eastern fuel depot to draw guards away, while Amir, Clara, and Yami infiltrated the control bunker. But the weight in his chest wasn't just fear. It was the USB burning against his ribs, the bloodstained label Project Rebirth and the nagging truth that Chomo had hidden more than he'd admitted. 

Clara stood abruptly. "Move. Now." 

--- 

The detonation rocked the mountainside, flames geysering into the night. Alarms screamed as Silhouette troops scrambled toward the inferno. Amir darted through the chaos, Clara and Yami flanking him like ghosts. They slipped through a maintenance hatch, descending into the compound's underbelly—a maze of dripping pipes and flickering emergency lights. 

Yami froze, pressing a finger to his lips. Ahead, two guards murmured over a holoscreen showing riot footage from the city. 

" Line scum torched Sector 9's water plant," one spat. "CEO Vorne's speech in ten. Finally put these rats down." 

Amir's blood ran cold. *Lina and Karim.* 

Clara didn't hesitate. A silenced round from Yami's pistol dropped the first guard; her shockstick jammed into the second's neck mid-reach. The man spasmed silently, collapsing. 

"Sentiment gets you killed," Yami said as Amir stared at the bodies. 

"So does cruelty," Clara countered, stripping the guard's keycard. 

The control bunker door hissed open, revealing a cathedral of blinking servers and holographic dashboards. At the room's heart stood Elias Vorne, his back to them, addressing a holographic council of Silhouette elites. 

"Rebirth's expansion ensures only the worthy survive. The strong. The obedient." 

Clara's breath hitched. For a moment, Amir saw the girl beneath the fury—the daughter betrayed. Then her pistol rose. 

"Hello, Father." 

Elias turned, his tailored suit immaculate, eyes cold as the servers humming around them. "Clara. Still playing revolutionary with these… *vermin*?" 

Yami's scar twitched. Amir's finger hovered over his stolen rifle's trigger. 

"You perverted my work," Clara said, voice steady. "Rebirth was meant to *save* the atmosphere, not purge people!" 

Elias smiled a predator's grin. "You always lacked vision. Survival isn't charity. It's selection." He tapped his wristcom. The holograms shifted, showing the satellite array's dish rotating toward the stars. "But you're right on time. A final lesson." 

Amir's stomach dropped. "The countdown—it's a trap. The real launch is Now." 

Alarms blared. Bulkheads slammed shut across exits. 

"Kill them," Elias ordered the air. 

Silhouette soldiers erupted from hidden panels. 

Chaos. 

Amir dove behind a server rack as bullets shredded the air. Clara ducked under a console, frantically jacking her tablet into the mainframe. Yami fought like a feral thing—disarming a soldier, snapping his neck, using the corpse as a shield. 

"I need two minutes!" Clara shouted, her screen flooding with code. 

"We don't have two!" Amir returned fire, pinning a guard behind a sparking terminal. 

Yami tossed him a grenade. "Make them." 

The blast ruptured pipes, spewing steam. Amir's ears rang, but the distraction worked—Clara's fingers flew, the satellite dish stuttering mid-rotation. 

Elias lunged for her. Amir tackled him, fists meeting bone. The CEO fought with unexpected strength, clawing for Amir's throat. "You think you've won? The Silhouette is *everywhere*! Even your precious Line—" 

A gunshot. 

Elias jerked, crimson blooming across his chest. Clara stood behind him, Yami's pistol smoking in her hand. 

"Goodbye, Father." 

The CEO collapsed, his whisper dying with him: "…should've… erased you…" 

Clara's hand trembled. For a heartbeat, Amir saw the cost of her resolve. Then she turned, slamming her palm onto the biometric scanner. 

"Frequency live in 10 seconds." 

The bunker doors shuddered. More guards. 

Yami barricaded the entrance with corpses. "Hurry!" 

"Three… two…" 

The servers whined. Lights surged. 

A shockwave of invisible energy rippled outward—the bunker's screens fizzed, showing the nano-toxin clouds disintegrating across the city. Cheers crackled over comms—Lina and Karim, alive. 

Amir exhaled. "We did it." 

Clara didn't smile. "Did we?" 

Yami stiffened. On the floor, Elias's wristcom buzzed—a notification: *Secondary Launch Protocol Activated. Global Broadcast: T-Minus 1 Hour.* 

"No." Clara's face paled. "He mirrored the signal. It's not just the city—Rebirth's uploading worldwide." 

Amir's blood turned to ice. "How?" 

She smashed the wristcom, revealing a micro-drive etched with the Silhouette emblem. "Because he never trusted me. Not even in death." 

Yami grabbed the drive. "Then we crash it. Now." 

"It's encrypted. We need—" 

Gunfire erupted outside. The barricade splintered. 

"Go!" Yami shoved them toward a ventilation shaft. "I'll hold them." 

Amir hesitated. "You'll die." 

Yami's smile was grim. "Told you—trust is a bullet." He tossed Amir a bloodstained journal—Chomo's, filled with coded entries. "Find the mole. Finish this." 

As they crawled into the shaft, the last thing Amir saw was Yami standing amid the storm, a grenade in each hand. 

The explosion lit the mountain red. 

Dawn found them in a derelict observatory, Clara decrypting the drive while Amir scoured Chomo's journal. Lina bandaged Karim's shrapnel wounds, her hands steady but her eyes hollow. 

"Got it," Clara whispered. The drive's hologram revealed a list—Silhouette operatives embedded in every resistance cell, government, and corporation. 

Including The Line. 

Amir's finger froze on a name. "No."

Lina peered over his shoulder. "Who is it?" 

He closed the journal. "We need to move." 

As they slipped into the ruins, Amir's mind reeled. The mole wasn't Yami. 

It was Chomo.