Chapter 1 – The Mission

Location: Rebel Bunker – Training Bay 3

The air smelled like scorched dust and old metal.

Ember adjusted her stance, breath steady, eyes locked on the sparring dummy ahead. Her fingers flexed around the hilt of the torchblade—one click, and it came alive with a low hiss, fire curling around the blade in flickering arcs of gold.

She charged.

Her boots echoed against the cracked floor as she moved—two steps, then a pivot, blade swinging in a sharp horizontal arc. The dummy's chest plate sparked. Ember spun again, this time slashing downward, then twisting into a low strike meant to disarm.

The blade stuttered—too shallow.

She cursed under her breath and reset her form.

From the corner of the room, a voice cut in—low, amused, and familiar.

"You're overthinking the pivot. Again."

Axel Caelis stood near the doorway, arms crossed, a half-smile twitching at the edge of his mouth. The morning light through the overhead slats caught the edge of his shoulder guard, casting lines across the scars on his neck.

Ember didn't stop. She slashed again—this time with more force than form.

"I'm not," she muttered.

"You are."

Another strike. Another spark. The dummy rocked slightly.

"You're stronger than you think," Axel said, walking forward. "But your grip's still too tight. You don't guide the fire. You're choking it."

Ember finally exhaled and stepped back.

Sweat clung to the side of her temple. She brushed it off with her sleeve, glancing down at the flickering edge of the torchblade. Its glow reflected in her eyes—amber-gold, sharp and restless.

"You're saying I'm too tense?"

"I'm saying you're trying to win a fight you haven't started yet."

She rolled her eyes—but she didn't argue.

There was comfort in this. The rhythm. The training. The sound of Axel's voice. It was one of the only times the world felt simple.

"I just want to be ready," she said quietly.

Axel paused.

His expression softened—not with doubt, but with something quieter. Something heavier.

"You are," he said. "You just don't know it yet."

30 Minutes Later — Location: Rebel Bunker – Briefing Hall

The walls of the room were scratched from years of boots and blades, but the symbol of their cell—a fractured torch burning through a chain—still hung high behind the briefing table. Ember stood with her back straight, trying not to bounce on her heels like a kid on her first mission.

Around her stood four others. Familiar faces.

Voren, quiet and wired into a datapad already.

Deyar, adjusting the strap on his rifle with that same scowl he wore when thinking too hard.

Silen, arms crossed, unimpressed and probably annoyed to be up this early.

And then there was Renna.

She leaned against the far wall, one foot propped against it, chewing on a piece of dried citrus peel. Her braid was half undone, her jacket hanging lazily off one shoulder like she never gave a damn about rules—or maybe just liked looking like she didn't.

She caught Ember staring and winked.

"What?" she mouthed. "Nervous?"

Ember gave her a look that said shut up.

Renna grinned like a sister who'd just caught you sneaking out and wasn't going to rat you out—yet.

They'd been through too much together to fake distance. They'd pulled each other out of training pits, out of trouble, and out of every moment that threatened to break them. Where Ember was fire, Renna was wild wind. And right now, her presence steadied Ember more than anything else in the room.

Axel entered a moment later, coat slung over one arm, datapad in hand.

The room snapped to attention—except for Renna, who just raised an eyebrow.

"Commander," she said smoothly. "You look like hell."

Axel didn't even blink. "Good. So do the rest of you."

He tapped the datapad, and the briefing holomap lit up across the table.

The holographic display cast shifting blue light across the room, flickering slightly as it adjusted to the age of the tech. A map rotated above the table—roughly circular with a sprawling interior grid—highlighting a walled facility nestled in the middle of a long-forgotten shipping zone.

Helion Stronghold Delta-Seven.

"This is our target," Axel said, voice calm but clear. "Delta-Seven is technically decommissioned. Helion abandoned the site a decade ago—or so they claimed."

He zoomed in on a blinking point in the structure's western quadrant.

"We've confirmed through intercepted drone packets that the facility is still active. And more importantly—there's a data mine inside the vault that hasn't been scrubbed."

That got Voren's attention. "Unaltered?"

Axel nodded once. "Unaltered. Which means we may be looking at pre-censorship Helion files. Original orders. Movement logs. Maybe even early-stage Aether experiments."

The room shifted. That word always changed the air.

Renna leaned forward, finally pulling her braid into a rough knot. "So we break in, grab the crystal, and vanish?"

"Exactly," Axel said. "No combat unless necessary. Stealth insertion, direct line to the vault, extract the data crystal, and exfil through the maintenance tunnel under Sublevel 3."

Deyar raised an eyebrow. "And if we're spotted?"

Axel didn't flinch.

"Then you run. Get the crystal out. No hero plays."

His eyes scanned the room. Resting, for a second longer than necessary, on Ember.

She met his gaze and didn't look away—even though her heart was pounding hard enough to feel in her fingers.

"You'll be running point," he said to her.

Silence.

Even Renna glanced over, her easy grin flickering with surprise. Ember straightened her posture without thinking.

"Me?" she asked. "Why me?"

"Because you know how to adapt. You read the field, not just the plan. And you don't lose focus under pressure."

Ember swallowed.

That sounded like praise—but she knew it was a test.

"I won't screw it up," she said.

Axel gave a small nod. "Good. Then you all move out at zero three-hundred. That gives you four hours. Check gear, rest if you can. Dismissed."

The holomap faded out, casting them all back into the soft yellow of the bunker lights.

Moments Later — Outside the Briefing Hall

The group scattered slowly—Voren heading straight for the tech wing, Deyar mumbling about calibrations. Silen walked off without a word.

Ember lingered.

Renna was still there, arms crossed, watching her with that half-smile she always wore before doing something reckless.

"Point, huh?" she said, walking over. "Not bad, Flameheart."

Ember gave her a dry look. "Please don't call me that."

"No promises."

A beat passed between them—comfortable, close.

"You ready?" Renna asked.

Ember exhaled. "I don't know."

"Doesn't matter," Renna said, tossing an arm around her shoulders as they walked down the corridor together. "We go anyway."

"Even if everything falls apart?"

"Especially then."

Location: Rebel Bunker – Gear Hall, 02:47 Hours

The locker hinges creaked as Ember opened her unit.

Inside: a worn field jacket, her fireguard bracers, a satchel with a spare coil-cell, and her torchblade—hanging on its mount like a relic waiting to be remembered.

She ran her fingers along the weapon's handle.

The alloy was smooth from use, chipped near the end where she'd slammed it too hard during a drill a year ago. She never filed it down. The scar made it feel like hers.

Around her, the rest of the team moved quietly. Renna tied her boots, muttering to herself. Voren was checking their comm relays for the third time. Silen was chewing on a wire, somehow.

It felt like the air had thickened. Like the bunker knew they wouldn't all return.

Ember finished gearing up and reached for the last piece of her loadout—her cloak.

That's when Axel stepped into the room.

"Walk with me," he said.

Location: Bunker Perimeter Hall – Outer Corridor

They moved in silence at first, the hum of the lights above them casting slow shadows as they walked.

Axel stopped near the old observatory gate. The stars above were faint tonight—clouded by ash storms on the far horizon.

"You nervous?" he asked without turning.

"A little," Ember said. "Not about the mission. About messing it up."

Axel nodded slowly. "You think that's weakness?"

She shrugged. "Doesn't feel like strength."

"Good," he said. "Means it's not pride."

He turned toward her finally, his expression unreadable but warm.

"You're not the same girl I pulled out of that shelter three years ago. You've changed. Hardened. But you still care. That's why I picked you."

"I thought it was because I had good aim," she said softly.

"That too."

They stood in silence for a moment longer.

"When we're out there," Axel said, "you'll have to make calls I can't. If things go wrong, I trust your instincts."

"Even if they're wrong?"

"Especially then."

He reached into his coat and pulled out a small iron pendant—a crescent torch engraved with a single flame.

"This was mine," he said. "Wore it during my first mission. Not because it's lucky. Because it reminded me I wasn't doing it for me."

He pressed it into her hand. She didn't know what to say.

"Come back with it," he said.

"I will."

"No," he added. "That's not what I meant."

She looked up.

Axel met her eyes—serious, still, unwavering.

"Come back with yourself."

03:12 Hours – Location: Helion Stronghold Perimeter, Western Sector

The wind tasted like rust.

Ember crouched behind the low ridge with the others, watching as a security drone hovered past overhead—its spotlight flickering briefly through the haze. The outer walls of the stronghold loomed ahead like a jagged scar, half-buried in the earth, half-forgotten by time.

"Drone loop clears in seven seconds," Voren whispered, already moving.

They sprinted across open ground—low, silent, fast.

The tunnel entrance was hidden beneath a collapsed support beam, sealed under a panel of false stone and rusted lattice. Deyar cracked it open with a magnetic keyring, revealing the narrow passage below.

One by one, they dropped into the dark.

03:27 Hours – Location: Sublevel Access Tunnel

The underground passage smelled of decay and coolant.

Ember kept her eyes forward, torchblade deactivated but ready at her hip. Renna walked beside her, light-footed and uncharacteristically quiet. Only the sound of their breathing, boots on steel, and Voren's whisper-count of intersections broke the silence.

They reached the lower platform just as planned.

"Vault wing is three levels in," Voren said, tapping a map onto their shared HUDs. "Minimal surveillance. Internal sensors look dormant."

"Or hidden," Deyar muttered.

"Optimism, Dey."

"I left that back at the bunker."

Axel held up a hand. They all stopped.

"No chatter past this point," he said. "We're ghosts now."

He looked at Ember.

"You lead."

She nodded once.

03:42 Hours – Location: Helion Stronghold Interior – Sublevel 2

The inside was colder than Ember expected.

The walls were smooth concrete—black, with faint veins of silver circuitry running through them like old scars. Dust floated in the air like ash. Every footstep felt like a trespass.

They moved in practiced silence, weaving through inactive drone cradles, rusted support pylons, and long corridors painted in decay.

Ember could feel it—that weight in the air.

Something about this place wasn't just abandoned.

It felt… quieted.

Like something had been silenced—and never woken up.

"Entrance to the vault wing ahead," Voren murmured.

They reached a pressure-sealed door embedded in the wall. Ember stepped up to the override panel, fingers brushing the control as she exhaled.

She glanced back.

Renna flashed her a thumbs up. Axel gave a single nod.

You're not doing it for yourself, she reminded herself.

She pressed her hand to the panel.

The door hissed open—

—into a dark hallway lit only by the glow of dormant screens and something else.

Faint.

Flickering.

Like something was waiting in the dark, holding its breath.

And they stepped into it.