Last stand

The air inside the underground base was thick with smoke and static as Sol executed his plan. His fingers flew across his wristpad, triggering a sequence of traps designed to dismantle DreamCorp's advance. The mech was the primary target—if he could cripple it, the soldiers' formation would lose its anchor.A swarm of spider drones skittered across the floor, weaving between the legs of the advancing troops. The moment the mech's scanners detected movement, it reacted with a pulse of electromagnetic energy, frying half of the drones instantly. But Sol had anticipated this. The remaining drones latched onto the mech's legs, injecting a rapid-hardening polymer that locked its servos in place. A low mechanical whine filled the air as the machine struggled against the adhesive."Got you," Sol muttered, a flicker of satisfaction in his exhausted eyes.But DreamCorp's soldiers weren't so easily thrown off. Within seconds, a squad moved in with precision, deploying an emergency solvent to dissolve the polymer. Another group took up defensive positions, scanning for more traps. They were learning, adapting.Sol gritted his teeth. He had expected them to take longer to recover. His traps were meant to be layered—each buying him time—but these soldiers were too well-trained. He quickly recalculated, reviewing his options in real time. If they were this efficient, then he needed to push them harder. His fingers hovered over his wristpad as he weighed his next move.\---Elsewhere in the slums, the Vultures received word of the raid. A scout had been keeping an eye on DreamCorp's movements, tracking their forces as they closed in on Sol's hideout. The report was swift and detailed, transmitted directly to the Vultures' leader— Serik.Serik listened in silence, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the table. His eyes, sharp and calculating, flickered with interest as the scout outlined the situation. Sol's betrayal had been an insult, but now, fate had delivered an opportunity right into their hands."The kid's cornered," the scout reported. "DreamCorp's got him pinned down, but he's stalling them. It won't last."Serik leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. "Then we make our move."Around him, the Vultures' hideout buzzed with activity. Weapons were checked, drones were calibrated, and plans were drawn up. They weren't here to save Sol—they were here for the ACE System. The chaos of the battle provided the perfect cover to strike."Set up an ambush around the junkyard," Serik ordered. "Full force. We let the traps bleed DreamCorp dry, then we hit them when they retreat. If Sol tries to slip away in the chaos, we cut off his exits and finish the job ourselves."A grizzled lieutenant beside Serik frowned. "He knows too much. If we take the system, we take him out too."Serik's lips curled into a smirk. "Of course. No loose ends."The Vultures moved with purpose, their forces mobilizing under the cover of the city's neon glow. They had no interest in mercy—only profit, power, and revenge.\---Jex exhaled, tilting his head toward Valka. "Looks like our little genius has got himself in a hell of a mess." He grinned, but there was a calculating glint in his eyes.Valka stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed, silent. Her gaze never left the screen displaying DreamCorp's troops advancing through the wreckage. She watched as one after another, Sol's traps went off—explosive charges, gas dispersals, EMP bursts—all designed to slow, never to kill. She took note of the boy's tactics. He wasn't reckless. Every move was deliberate, calculated, meant to delay rather than destroy. He was treating this like a game of chess, and that fascinated her.Jex sent a command to his drones, deploying them to scan the area. "Let's map out the best escape routes before we lose our shot at this kid." His fingers danced across his interface, marking potential exit points. "If he's as smart as you think, Valka, he'll take one of these."Valka remained quiet, her eyes locked on the unfolding battle. The boy intrigued her. He wasn't just surviving—he was thinking ahead, adapting on the fly. That kind of mind was rare. She found herself wondering: What could he become if given the right tools? What would he be capable of beyond just struggling to survive in the slums? For the first time in a long while, she felt something close to respect. But she quickly buried it.She had been like him once—smart, desperate, fighting against a world that had no place for her. And now, she was here, doing what needed to be done to survive. Interest or not, the mission came first.Jex leaned forward, his fingers tapping against the metal table. "DreamCorp's getting bogged down, but they'll break through eventually. What's the call?"\---Back inside the underground base, Sol continued to stall for time. His breath came fast and shallow, his chest tightening as the walls seemed to close in. He wiped his forehead, but the sweat kept coming, dripping into his eyes. His fingers trembled as they moved across the wristpad, but he forced himself to focus. His teacher had stopped moving. His hands rested on the table, his gaze locked onto a small red chip glinting under the dim light.For the past few days, his teacher had been distant, lost in thought more often than not. Sol had noticed it—the way his mentor's eyes would linger on him, filled with something unspoken. The way he'd pause mid-sentence, as if reconsidering whether to say something at all. And then there were the preparations—small, seemingly insignificant changes in the lab's security, the sudden urgency in training Sol how to navigate the city's back routes, the insistence that he memorize escape plans. Sol had questioned it, but his teacher had always brushed it off. Now, he understood.An explosion shook the room, snapping him from his thoughts. His stomach twisted as realization hit him like a gut punch."Sol," his teacher called, his voice cutting through the alarms.Then, as Sol turned back toward him, he caught the expression in his teacher's eyes—resignationA terrible feeling clawed at Sol's chest. "You're not planning on leaving, are you?" he asked, voice hoarse with exhaustion and something dangerously close to fear.His teacher only smiled, that gentle, knowing smile that had reassured Sol so many times before. But this time, it felt different. Final."Sol, you have a future beyond this place. I've made sure of it. The ACE System... it's yours now. And so is everything I've prepared for you. The recommendation letter to Sage Academy, the introductions to people who can help you... all of it."Sol shook his head violently. "No. No, we can still make it out. Together! This—this is all my fault! They're only here because of me! If I hadn't—""Enough." His teacher's voice was firm but not unkind. "You don't get to carry that burden alone. This was always bigger than just you. And I made my choice long before you ever got involved."Sol's breath hitched, his chest tight with grief. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, his forehead damp with sweat. His hands curled into fists, shaking with helplessness. His legs felt weak, like they might give out beneath him. The weight of his teacher's words settled on him like a crushing force."I won't let you do this!" Sol's voice cracked, his vision blurring with tears he refused to let fall. "You don't have to do this! Please! We can find another way!"His teacher placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "I do, Sol. And I need you to accept that. You have to keep moving forward. Live. For both of us."The words crushed him, and yet, somewhere deep inside, he understood. This was his teacher's final lesson, the one he had never spoken aloud: survival sometimes required sacrifice.Before Sol could protest again, his teacher moved with startling speed, striking a precise point at the base of Sol's neck. A sharp pain shot through his body, and then his limbs went limp. His vision blurred, consciousness slipping from his grasp like sand through fingers."I'm sorry, Son," his teacher murmured as he caught him, lowering him gently to the ground. "But this is the only way."As Sol's world faded to black, the last thing he felt was the steady grip of the man who had been more than just a teacher—he had been family. And then—nothing.