Chapter 7 — Embers of Rebellion

The night was suffocating in its silence. The abandoned metro tunnels beneath the city were damp and cold, yet tension heated the air like a forge. Every rebel in the hideout moved with purpose, voices low, weapons checked and rechecked. The plan had been hastily crafted — a strike on one of GeneCorp's mid-level research facilities to disrupt their genetic shipment pipeline. It wasn't just about sabotage. It was about sending a message.

Xander stood at the center of it all, his heart pounding with a mixture of dread and resolve. He had come so far in so little time. Just days ago, he was a fugitive son trying to rescue his parents; now, he was about to help lead an assault against the most powerful corporation on Earth.

He glanced over at Mara, who was hunched over a portable console, studying digital schematics of the target facility. Her brow furrowed in concentration. Beside her, Voss leaned on a crate, silent but observant.

Lila approached Xander, holding a datapad. "You need to see this."

Xander took the pad and scanned it. The screen displayed surveillance feeds from inside the target building — sterile white labs, guards patrolling in exo-suits, and rows of transport crates filled with genetic material. But that wasn't what made his blood run cold.

In one corner of the facility was a chamber containing what looked like stasis pods. Inside them were people.

"Test subjects," Lila said bitterly. "They're experimenting on unregistered civilians. GeneCorp's been taking people off the streets — the homeless, undocumented, runaways — and using them for forced genetic trials."

Xander's jaw clenched. "We can't just hit the supply lines. We have to get them out."

"That will make the mission infinitely more complicated," Voss warned.

"I don't care," Xander said. "If we're going to start this war, we do it on the right side."

There was a brief silence before Mara spoke. "He's right."

Lila exhaled slowly. "Very well. Rescue takes priority. We'll hit the distribution systems after." She turned toward the rest of the rebels. "Gear up! We roll in thirty."

Xander followed Mara to a side chamber where equipment was laid out. She handed him a tactical vest and a lightweight kinetic rifle.

"I thought you didn't trust me with a weapon," he joked, forcing a smile.

"I didn't," she replied without missing a beat. "But you're not the same guy who stumbled out of that cell."

As he strapped the vest on, his mind wandered to his parents. They were resting in a makeshift infirmary. His mother was still weak, his father recovering slowly. He couldn't lose them now. He wouldn't.

Soon, the team assembled in silence near the underground transport skiff — a modified hovercraft that would take them through forgotten maintenance tunnels directly beneath the GeneCorp facility.

Voss stood at the helm, Mara at his side. Lila leaned in toward Xander. "You nervous?"

He nodded. "Terrified."

"Good," she said. "That means you're thinking."

The hum of the skiff's engines filled the tunnel as they launched into darkness. Xander sat gripping the edge of his seat, watching shadows flicker along the walls as they sped toward their target.

Mara's voice came through the earpiece. "Approach in one minute. Load your mask filters. Bio-contaminant sensors are active in the lower levels."

Xander slipped on the mask and felt the airtight seal lock in place. His heart hammered louder now, and every second felt like an eternity.

"Thirty seconds," Voss announced.

The skiff slowed, gliding toward a dimly lit chamber with an old service hatch overhead. Mara keyed the door, and with a hiss, the hatch began to open, revealing a vertical shaft leading into the facility's sub-basement.

"Up and out," Voss ordered.

One by one, the rebels ascended the shaft using magnetic grips until they emerged into a ventilation tunnel.

Xander followed, his palms sweating despite the cold. Every step forward was a step deeper into enemy territory.

Mara keyed in another access code at the end of the tunnel, and the panel slid open into a storage bay. White walls. Sterile lighting. The oppressive hum of machines.

They were inside.

"Split into two teams," Lila commanded quietly. "Team One heads to the stasis chambers. Team Two, disrupt the supply lines. Minimal casualties if possible. Move."

Xander found himself assigned to Team One with Mara and three others. They slipped through the corridors like shadows, avoiding cameras with the help of Lila's interference software.

It was too quiet.

As they approached the chamber, Xander's nerves tightened like wires ready to snap.

Mara held up a fist — halt.

A pair of guards rounded the corner. Without hesitation, Mara fired a silenced shot, and both men dropped without a sound.

They continued, reaching the chamber door. Mara bypassed the security lock, and the door slid open.

The sight inside made Xander's stomach turn.

Rows upon rows of pods, each containing a person in suspended animation.

Mara moved to the control panel. "I can't just open them all at once — they'll go into shock. I need time to wake them up individually."

Xander stepped forward, checking the pods. Most were adults, but some were barely teenagers.

"How long?" he asked.

"Too long," she admitted.

Before he could respond, the facility's alarms blared.

They'd been discovered.

"Voss, we're blown!" Mara shouted into her comm.

His voice crackled back. "Security converging on your position. Hold tight. We'll try to draw them off."

Mara swore under her breath and continued waking the subjects as fast as possible.

Xander took up position by the door, rifle aimed down the hall.

The first wave came fast — armored security personnel wielding shock batons and plasma pistols.

Xander fired. Two dropped immediately. He ducked behind the wall as return fire scorched the frame beside his head.

Mara kept working, sweat beading on her brow.

A young woman inside one of the pods stirred. Her eyes fluttered open in confusion and fear.

"It's okay," Mara whispered. "You're safe."

The girl gasped, her body convulsing as she fought to breathe. Mara injected her with a stabilizer, and slowly, the panic subsided.

The hallway erupted in chaos as more guards poured in. Xander fired methodically, every shot counting. He'd never taken a life before tonight. But there was no room for hesitation anymore.

They were fighting for survival.

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the facility. Dust rained from the ceiling.

"Voss is making a mess," Mara muttered.

The pod next to Xander hissed open, revealing a boy, no older than fifteen. His eyes met Xander's — wild and frightened.

"Help me up," the boy rasped.

Xander reached down, pulling him out. "Can you run?"

The boy nodded shakily.

Mara finally looked up. "We need to move. Now."

They began guiding the waking prisoners out into the hall, ducking behind cover as more security units arrived.

Xander's rifle clicked empty. He dropped it and grabbed a fallen guard's sidearm.

Suddenly, gunfire erupted from behind them — but not at them.

Voss's team.

The rebels had flanked the security forces, turning the hallway into chaos.

"Fall back!" Voss shouted.

They retreated through the corridors, carrying or guiding the rescued test subjects.

Alarms blared louder, and automated defense turrets descended from the ceiling.

"Turrets!" Mara yelled.

Xander reacted instinctively. He grabbed a fallen plasma grenade and hurled it at the nearest turret. It detonated in a flash of light, disabling two.

More security bots rolled into view.

"We're not going to make it!" one of the rebels shouted.

"Shut up and move!" Mara shouted.

They reached the shaft where they'd entered.

One by one, they began loading the rescued prisoners into the skiff waiting below.

Xander covered the rear, firing until his sidearm overheated and locked.

He didn't stop. He grabbed another from a fallen guard and kept firing.

At last, everyone was aboard.

"Go!" Mara screamed.

The skiff shot forward, racing through the maintenance tunnels as the facility collapsed behind them.

They emerged into the open night, the city skyline glittering above them.

But it wasn't over.

GeneCorp's aerial drones descended from the clouds, weapons primed.

Voss manned the skiff's turret, blasting the first wave out of the sky.

Xander took the secondary turret, targeting incoming drones with grim focus.

The chase through the night sky was a blur of light and noise, plasma bolts streaking past them as they weaved between towering skyscrapers.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached the safehouse — a hidden bunker beneath an old train yard.

The skiff landed roughly.

Xander stumbled out, breath ragged.

The rescued test subjects were quickly ushered into medical units.

Mara clapped him on the shoulder. "You did good."

He didn't feel good. He felt tired. Hollowed