WANTED

The Bastion was in shambles. Smoke curled from the damaged entryway, and the faint stench of burning circuitry lingered in the air. The emergency lockdown had lifted, but the tension remained, thick and suffocating.

Blaze pressed a bloodied cloth to his side, wincing as Cipher tightened the bandages. "Could've been worse."

"It shouldn't have happened at all." Razor's voice was sharp, his frustration barely restrained as he surveyed the ruined security grid. "They breached us like we were nothing."

Myst stood near the table, hands clenched at her sides. She could still feel the agent's grip on her wrists, his voice like a whisper in the back of her mind.

You were never meant to be out here. You belong to us.

Her stomach twisted. Even now, long after the fight had ended, the lingering sensation of being trapped in his hold refused to fade. She had fought, struggled, but in that moment, she had felt it—that terrifying certainty that if Flux hadn't intervened, she would've been taken.

Dragged back to whatever cold, sterile place they had planned for her.

The thought sent ice down her spine.

"They knew exactly where to hit us," Shade said grimly, arms crossed. "This wasn't just a lucky find."

Nyx sat on the edge of the table, twirling a knife between his fingers. "Then someone sold us out. Or they had tech that tracked Blue Rose."

The name cut through Myst like a blade. She inhaled sharply, forcing herself to stay still, to push down the old ghosts clawing their way up her throat. Blue Rose. Not Myst. Not Liora. Their creation.

She should have spoken up, but the words stuck in her mouth. Before she could gather herself, Flux did.

"Neither changes the fact that they're coming back." His tone was measured, but there was an edge to it. "And we can't just sit here waiting for the next attack."

"Agreed." Razor turned to face them, his expression grim. "We have two choices—fortify and prepare for another fight or hit them before they hit us."

Cipher scoffed. "Hit them? With what resources? We barely made it through this attack."

"We have connections," Blaze muttered, adjusting his bandages. "Contacts who might know more."

Shade nodded. "I know someone in the underground who deals in information. If the Government is moving this aggressively, someone's talking about it."

Myst stayed quiet, absorbing their words. This is my fault. Her presence here had put them all in danger. She had told herself, over and over, that she had finally found a place where she might belong.

But what if she was only dooming them by staying? What if they got hurt because of her?

Would it be better if she left?

"Hey." Flux's voice was quieter now, just for her. When she looked up, his gaze was steady. "This isn't on you."

She wanted to believe that. But the weight in her chest refused to lift. How could it not be? The agent had come for her. The Government had hunted her. And now, the people who had taken her in—the people she cared about—were caught in the crossfire.

"We need a fucking plan," Razor said, cutting through the moment. "Because next time, we might not be lucky enough to walk away."

Silence settled over them, heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Later that night, when the Bastion was quiet and the others were either resting or preoccupied, Myst slipped away to one of the terminals. But she didn't use Cipher's methods. She wasn't going to hack XENIS-IS.

She was going to connect to it.

Standing before the screen, she inhaled slowly and closed her eyes, letting her mind drift. There was something buried deep inside her—a tether to the system that she had never fully understood. Now, she reached for it.

The data came in fragments at first. Static. Corrupted signals. Then, clarity. A live feed flickered into her consciousness—grainy but unmistakable.

A Government facility. XENIS-IS Central Command, Sector 3. Rows of terminals. A command center buzzing with activity.

She pushed deeper, scanning for anything useful.

Subject Blue Rose: Retrieval in Progress.

They're still tracking me.

Blurred figures moved across the screens. Voices crackled through an open channel.

"We need confirmation on her last known location. The Bastion may still be compromised."

"Increase the surveillance radius. We can't afford another failure."

Before she could go further, a sharp, overwhelming pressure slammed into her mind. Not just resistance—something pushing back. The force sent a spike of pain through her skull, her vision blurring, data flashing too fast to process.

Blood trickled from her nose as she wrenched herself free from the connection, gasping for air. A sharp, pulsing pain throbbed behind her eyes, her limbs unsteady as she struggled to stay upright.

She barely caught herself against the table. Her body trembled. Her breath came in shallow, uneven gulps.

But she had seen enough.

The Government was closer than she feared. They weren't just tracking her—they were closing in.

Her knees buckled. Before she could hit the floor, strong arms caught her, steadying her before she could slip further.

"Hey," a familiar voice murmured, close—warm.

She wanted to respond, wanted to force her eyes open, but the exhaustion had already dragged her under.