Echoes of Survival

MercerTech Tower loomed over New Haven's neon-lit sprawl, its core server room a sanctuary of humming tech and flickering holos. Alex sat by the console, the two Valor orbs pulsing faintly beside Fae's data chip, their combined shield still cloaking the city. His ribs ached from the foundry fight, but Fae's image—bloodied, then alive—kept him awake. She'd taken a blast for him, yet slipped away. How? The question gnawed as he synced Valor again, chasing the Syndicate cell holding his parents.

Marcus paced nearby, his scar catching the light. "Foundry hit them hard—they're scrambling. We've got a window."

Maya, arm freshly bandaged, leaned against a rack. "Valor's tracking that cell. Where are they now?"

Alex tapped the console, a holo-map flaring up. A red dot blinked—moving west, past the city's edge. "Old industrial zone," he said, voice tight. "They're not stopping."

Jace slumped in a chair, nursing a bruised jaw. "After losing their orb, they'll guard your parents like gold."

"Or move them out of reach," Marcus added. "We strike fast—before they dig in."

Alex nodded, replaying his mother's holo: Activate it now. She'd trusted Fae, and Fae had delivered—yet that fake warning lingered, a Syndicate echo. He glanced at the laptop, its strawberry sticker mocking him. "Fae's out there," he said. "Saw her escape."

Maya frowned. "No one walks off a plasma hit like that."

"She did," Alex insisted. "We need her—she knows more."

Marcus grunted. "If she's alive, she'll find us. Focus on the cell."

The team prepped—restocking rifles, drones, med-gel. Alex tweaked Valor's signal, boosting its trace. The dot steadied—Sector 12, a maze of derelict factories. "Got a lock," he said, adrenaline spiking. "Ten klicks out."

"Roll in an hour," Marcus ordered. "Rest 'til then."

Alex couldn't. He slipped to the workshop, locking himself in with the orbs and laptop. Fae's survival defied logic—plasma burned through flesh, not past it. He opened the laptop, the note glaring: Hell hath no fury - like a women scorned. On impulse, he pried off the strawberry sticker, revealing a microchip beneath. "What the hell?" he muttered, scanning it.

A holo flickered—Fae's face, smirking. "Clever, Mercer. If you're seeing this, I'm either dead or damn good at faking it. Laura gave me this—bio-tech implant, heals fast, takes a hit. Syndicate doesn't know. Use it smart." The feed cut.

Alex's jaw dropped. Bio-tech? His mom's work—experimental, banned stuff. Fae wasn't just rogue—she was augmented, a living weapon. That's how she'd survived. He pocketed the chip, mind racing. She was an ally, but wild—her own agenda tangled with his parents' fate.

Maya knocked, entering. "You're obsessed. What's up?"

He showed her the chip. "Fae's alive—bio-tech. My mom made it."

Her eyes widened. "That's why she walked away. She's unstoppable."

"And unpredictable," Alex said. "But she's tied to this—deep."

Maya softened. "Tell Marcus. No more secrets, right?"

"Yeah," he agreed, guilt fading. They found Marcus in the bay, briefing the team. Alex explained Fae's chip, her survival. "She's out there—could help us."

Marcus rubbed his scar. "Laura's tech, huh? Fae's a loose cannon, but if she's hunting Syndicate, we'll cross paths. Load up."

The team piled into a patched van, dusk settling over New Haven. Sector 12 loomed ahead—crumbling smokestacks, shattered windows, a graveyard of industry. Valor's trace held steady: a factory at the sector's heart. Marcus parked a klick out. "Stealth in. They'll expect us."

They crept through the ruins, shadows stretching long. Alex's staff hummed, synced with the orbs in his bag. A faint buzz grew—drones, Syndicate patrols. "Close," he whispered.

The factory emerged, its doors guarded by two agents. Fae's voice hissed from behind—"Miss me?"—before she dropped from a roof, blade flashing. Both guards fell, silent.

Alex spun, stunned. "Fae? How—"

"Later," she cut in, grinning, her jacket singed but no wounds. "Your parents are inside. Syndicate's prepping a transport."

Marcus glared. "You're late."

"Had to ditch some tails," she shot back. "Ready?"

They slipped in, the factory a cavern of rust and echoes. A transport rig sat at the center, Syndicate techs loading crates—his parents nowhere in sight. "Where are they?" Alex hissed.

Fae pointed to a side room, guarded. "There. Move quick."

The team split—Marcus and Jace distracting with a drone feint, Maya and Fae clearing a path. Alex darted for the room, heart pounding. He stunned a guard, kicking the door open. Inside, his parents—Daniel and Laura—sat bound, pale but alive.

"Alex!" Laura gasped, eyes wide.

He cut their ropes, hugging them tight. "You're okay."

Daniel gripped his shoulder. "Valor—did it work?"

"Partially," Alex said. "Syndicate's still fighting."

Alarms screamed—reinforcements. Fae burst in. "Transport's moving—go!"

They ran, joining the team as Syndicate agents swarmed. Marcus fired, covering their retreat to the van. Fae tossed a smoke pellet, buying time. The rig roared to life, pulling away with crates—and the third orb.

"They've got it!" Alex yelled, as they piled in.

Marcus floored it, chasing the rig. "We can't lose it!"

Laura coughed, weak. "Valor's full power… it's our only shot."

Alex synced the orbs, their signal clashing with the rig's. A holo flared—New Haven's grid teetered. "They're activating it," he said, dread rising.

Fae leaned in, grim. "Next stop's their HQ. We end this there."

The van raced on, the rig ahead, Valor's fate—and New Haven's—hanging in the balance.