Tangled Bonds

The stealth van rattled back to P.A.I.R.E.'s base, its cloaking barely holding against the Syndicate drones' relentless scans. Alex sat in the back, clutching the two orbs—V-Prototype I and II—his knuckles white. Dust and sweat streaked his face, the sting of Maya's words sharper than the bruises from the lab. No more secrets. He'd messed up, and the silence in the van was deafening.

Marcus drove, eyes fixed ahead, while Maya sat shotgun, her jaw tight. Jace and the techs slumped in the rear, nursing minor wounds—scrapes from glass, a singed arm from a plasma bolt. The docks map glowed in Alex's mind, the third Valor piece calling, but doubt gnawed at him. Could he fix this?

The base's garage doors groaned open, and they rolled in, safe for now. Marcus cut the engine. "Debrief in ten. Clean up first."

Alex climbed out, the orbs heavy in his bag beside Fae's laptop. Maya brushed past him, not sparing a glance. He followed her to the med bay, where agents patched each other up with med-gel and grim humor.

"Maya," he started, catching her as she bandaged her cut. "I'm sorry."

She didn't look up. "Sorry doesn't cut it, Alex. That Fae chick knew you—attacked us—and you kept it quiet. What else are you hiding?"

He pulled out the laptop, setting it on a table. "This. She threw it at me yesterday. Just a note—Hell hath no fury - like a women scorned—and a strawberry sticker. I don't know what it means."

Maya's eyes flicked to it, then him. "You should've told us. We're not the enemy."

"I know," he said, voice low. "I was scared. My parents said trust no one, and after everything—"

She sighed, softening a fraction. "I get it. But we can't fight blind. Show Marcus."

They found him in the main chamber, studying a cracked holo-table. Alex handed over the laptop, explaining Fae's appearances. Marcus rubbed his scar, frowning. "Fae Mavrick. Ex-P.A.I.R.E. agent. Went rogue after a mission went south—blamed us for a loss. She's trouble."

"Why's she after me?" Alex asked.

"Could be tied to Valor," Marcus said. "Or your parents. She's unpredictable—watch your back."

Alex nodded, then revealed the orbs. "Found the second at the lab. They synced—showed a spot at the docks. Third piece might be there."

Marcus's eyes lit up. "That's our move. Syndicate's licking their wounds—we hit the docks before they regroup."

Maya crossed her arms. "If Fae's involved, it's a risk."

"We've got no choice," Marcus countered. "Prep the team."

As they geared up, Alex lingered by the holo-table, syncing the orbs again. The map sharpened, pinpointing a warehouse—Dock 17. He memorized it, the weight of Maya's distrust lingering. She was right—he had to be open, but Fae's shadow made it hard.

The team loaded into the van again—same crew, plus a medic. Night cloaked New Haven as they drove, the city's glow fading into the docks' gritty maze. Rusted cranes loomed over stacks of crates, the air sharp with salt and oil. They parked a block from Dock 17, Marcus scanning with a handheld. "Quiet so far. Stay tight."

They crept forward, weapons ready. The warehouse loomed, its doors ajar, a faint hum spilling out. Alex's pulse raced—Valor was close. Inside, shadows danced across machinery and barrels, the hum growing into a rhythmic pulse.

"Split up," Marcus whispered. "Alex, Maya—left flank. Rest with me."

Alex and Maya moved silently, his staff gripped tight. She glanced at him, her expression softer. "We're good," she murmured. "Just don't pull that again."

"Promise," he said, relieved.

They reached a sealed crate, its lock biometric. Alex pulled an orb, pressing it to the scanner. It clicked open, revealing a third orb—V-Prototype III—pulsing brighter than the others. "Got it," he breathed, pocketing it.

A clang echoed behind them. They spun, staffs up, as Fae stepped from the dark, her blade twirling. "Fast work, kid," she said, smirking. "But you're not done."

Maya lunged, but Fae sidestepped, tossing a smoke pellet. Gray haze filled the air, choking them. Alex coughed, swinging blindly, but Fae's laugh faded—she was gone again.

"Damn it," Maya growled, as the smoke cleared. "She's playing us."

Gunfire erupted from Marcus's position—Syndicate agents pouring in. "Ambush!" Jace shouted over comms.

Alex and Maya sprinted back, finding the team pinned behind barrels. The Syndicate leader from before led the charge, his arm bandaged but his glare lethal. "The boy's got it—take him!" he roared.

Marcus fired, dropping an agent. "Van—now!"

They fought their way out, Alex's staff cracking a drone mid-flight. The third orb pulsed in his pocket, a beacon drawing fire. They reached the van, piling in as plasma scorched the hull. Marcus floored it, weaving through crates as drones chased.

Inside, Alex synced all three orbs. A holo-image flared—his father, voice strained. "Alex, Valor's complete now. Activate it at MercerTech Tower. It's our only chance. They're—"

The feed cut. Alex's chest tightened. "Tower's the endgame."

Marcus nodded. "We've got it—but they're on us."

A thud rocked the van—a Syndicate drone latched on, cutting through. "Brace!" Maya yelled, as metal tore.

Alex grabbed his staff, ready to fight, the orbs' hum a call to action. Valor was whole—but the Syndicate was steps away.