Chapter 21

The air thrums with a low, sickening buzz, a prelude to the grotesque scene unfolding in the shadows. Electra, her form a disturbing blend of human and something else, kneels over the lifeless body of a woman.

Her movements are mechanical, devoid of emotion, as she tears into the flesh, the sounds of rending and gnawing echoing through the dimly lit chamber. A faint, electric current flickers around her fingertips, illuminating the gruesome tableau with an unsettling glow.

She is a cold predator, a newly appointed lieutenant in the Overseer's ranks, her power over electricity making her a formidable force. The other four lieutenants, their expressions a mix of unease and something akin to fear, approach her cautiously.

They are hardened killers, veterans of countless brutal encounters, yet even they are unnerved by the sight of Electra's macabre feast.

"Electra," one of them says, his voice strained, "the Overseer is looking for you. He has a mission for you."

Electra pauses, her head tilting slightly, a strand of dark hair falling across her glowing eyes. She doesn't bother to wipe the blood from her chin. "A mission?" she echoes, her voice a low, distorted hum. "Finally."

"He said it's urgent," another lieutenant adds, his gaze fixed on the grisly scene. "He wants to see you immediately."

A predatory smile twists Electra's lips. "Excellent," she purrs, rising to her feet.

"Let's not keep the Overseer waiting." With a final, dismissive glance at the remains of the woman, she turns and strides away, her form crackling with barely contained energy. The other lieutenants exchange uneasy glances, left to deal with the aftermath of her brutal display.

---

Overseer studies the creature before him. His expression is unreadable, cold and calculating, as he assesses the new weapon at his disposal. Electra—neither fully human nor fully something else—stands motionless, her glowing eyes pulsing with raw, unnatural energy.

She is not just a warrior; she is destruction incarnate, molded into the perfect instrument of war. And the Overseer is eager to see her unleashed.

"Electra," he intones, his voice smooth yet edged with authority. "You have been chosen for a mission of great importance."

She bows with an unsettling grace, every movement controlled, precise—a stark contrast to the volatile power that crackles beneath her skin. "I await your command, Overseer," she says, her voice devoid of warmth.

"The resistance lingers, defiant, a persistent thorn in our side," he continues, his gaze sharp with intent. "It is time to wipe them out. All of them."

A slow smile curves across Electra's lips, predatory and cruel. "They will be nothing but ashes," she murmurs. "I will ensure it."

The Overseer's approval is evident in the gleam of his eyes. "Then go. Prove to me that my trust is not misplaced."

With a surge of electric energy, Electra vanishes, leaving only the faint scent of ozone in her wake. The Overseer exhales, his thoughts already turning to the battles ahead.

The war is far from over, and the resistance will fight to their last breath. But he has no doubt—Electra will tip the scales, and with her at his command, victory is within reach.

---

Inside a cramped, dimly lit room, the air thick with tension and the smell of stale rations, the leaders of the resistance gather. Brigida, her powerful frame radiating a quiet strength, stands at the head of the makeshift table, her gaze sweeping over the faces of her comrades. The flickering candlelight casts long, dancing shadows, emphasizing the grim determination etched on their faces.

"We can't let this continue," Brigida's voice, usually a gruff rumble, is now laced with a steely resolve. "The Hunters are growing bolder, their raids more frequent. The human meat production is escalating, and we're losing too many people."

A grizzled man with a scarred face slams his fist on the table. "They're turning our people into livestock! We have to strike back!"

A woman with sharp, intelligent eyes leans forward. "But how? They're heavily armed, well-organized. We're outgunned and outnumbered."

"We need a plan," Brigida says, her voice cutting through the rising tension. "A plan to disrupt their operations, to strike at their supply lines, to dismantle their network."

Another resistance leader, a young man with a fiery spirit, speaks up. "We've been gathering intel. They're using old transport tunnels to move their captives. If we can intercept them there…"

"It's risky," Brigida counters, her brow furrowed. "Those tunnels are heavily guarded. But it's also our best chance. We need to coordinate, to gather our forces, to strike swiftly and decisively."

"We need to send a message," someone else adds, "that we won't be slaughtered like cattle."

"Exactly," Brigida affirms, her eyes flashing with determination. "We need to show them that we're not afraid, that we'll fight for our freedom, for our survival. We need to show them that we will not be consumed."

---

As the resistance prepares for their bold strike, Electra moves through the shadows, her presence an ominous storm waiting to be unleashed. The battle between the hunters and the hunted is about to reach a deadly climax, and in the center of it all stand two forces destined to collide—Brigida's unwavering defiance and Electra's ruthless destruction.

---

Brigida Turne to me and ask "What can You say Su Yan do you have any suggestion?"

Earlier Brigida ask me to come and accompany her in their sector leaders meeting and now ask me if I could give a suggestion regarding the issue.

I straighten slightly in my chair, feeling the weight of their gazes. The flickering candlelight casts deep shadows across the room, making the hardened expressions of the resistance leaders look even more severe.

I don't speak right away. Instead, I take a slow breath, choosing my words carefully. "If we're going to strike, we can't just aim to disrupt them. We need to cripple their entire operation." My voice is steady, though I can feel the tension thickening in the air.

A grizzled man with a deep scar running down his cheek narrows his eyes. "Easier said than done," he grunts. "We've hit their patrols, sabotaged their supply routes, but they keep coming back stronger."

I nod, expected as much. "That's because we've only been cutting at the branches," I say, my gaze sweeping across the room. "We need to go for the root—the factories themselves. If we don't, they'll keep abducting people to meet demand."

A murmur spreads among the leaders. Some nod in grim agreement, others exchange uncertain glances. Brigida—Brick, as most call her—crosses her arms, studying me. "You're suggesting a direct assault?"

I meet her gaze. "Not just an assault. A complete destruction."

The room goes silent. Then, the woman with sharp, calculating eyes leans forward. "And how do you suggest we pull that off without getting wiped out?"

I press my lips into a thin line, then say, "We don't fight them where they're strongest. We fight them where they're blind. I have an idea—but it's going to take precise coordination and a hell of a lot of nerve."

Brick smirks slightly, a dangerous gleam in her eye. "Good. Then let's hear it."

---

I lean forward, my fingers tapping against the rough surface of the table as I lay out the plan. "We ambush one of their transport trucks—the ones they use to move abducted humans. We take out the hunters, secure the vehicle, and use it to infiltrate the factory. Once we're inside the perimeter, we strike hard and destroy everything."

A heavy silence settles over the room. The leaders exchange glances, weighing the risks.

"That's bold," the scarred man mutters, rubbing his jaw. "And reckless."

"But effective," I counter. "Their security is tight, but they won't question their own transport arriving with a fresh batch of captives. It gives us a way in without setting off alarms."

Brick tilts her head, considering. "We'll need to be fast. Once we're inside, the moment they suspect anything, we'll be trapped."

I nod. "Which is why we hit them from the inside out. We sabotage their systems, disable their communications, and set charges to bring the place down." My voice is calm, but my pulse quickens. This could work.

The woman with sharp eyes speaks up, her fingers steepled. "And what about the prisoners already inside? We can't just blow the place with them in it."

I expected that question. "We'll need scouts inside first, disguised as captives. They'll locate the prisoners and signal us before we move in."

Another murmur of discussion ripples through the group.

Brick finally exhales, a slow smirk tugging at her lips. "Dangerous. Risky as hell." Then she leans forward, eyes gleaming. "I like it."

The tension in the room shifts, turning into something sharper—determination. This is happening.

I grip the edge of the table and meet their eyes. "Then let's get to work."