A Blade in the Dark

It took Aria hours to calm the camp. They buried themselves in repair and preparation, anything to distract from the gnawing truth that betrayal had seeped into their bones. But there was no time to heal.

Another mission loomed—one too critical to delay.

The old regime's armory was located deep in the ruins of Sector Nine, beneath the collapsed skyline of a once-vibrant city. Rumor had it the vaults held prototype weapons, old-world tech, and perhaps more secrets about the hybrid program.

Rael, Aria, and Xander led a small team under the cover of night.

They moved like ghosts, weaving through overgrown streets where vines claimed skyscrapers and forgotten billboards flickered with static. The city groaned in the wind, metal creaking like the cries of the dead.

"This place gives me the creeps," Rael muttered.

"Because it remembers," Aria replied.

They reached the coordinates. A rusted staircase led beneath a crumbling overpass, into a hollowed-out subway platform choked in dust.

The air was colder here.

Inside the platform, they found the vault door—sealed, dented, and marked with a strange symbol burned into its center.

Xander approached it, fingers tracing the design. "This wasn't done with heat. It's ice."

Aria frowned. "Someone like me?"

"Or worse."

Before they could speak again, a piercing whistle sliced through the air.

Ambush.

Explosions erupted around them, concrete flying as shadows descended from above—silent figures in tactical armor, their eyes glowing faintly blue.

Not soldiers.

Enhanced.

Aria drew her blade just in time to parry a blow. One of the enhanced fighters moved like lightning, faster than humanly possible. Their strength was brutal—Aria's ribs ached after the first strike. Her limbs burned.

She turned, catching sight of Xander grappling with another figure. Blood was already staining his shoulder. Rael had vanished into the shadows, fighting two at once with deadly precision.

The enhanced soldier slammed Aria into a wall, whispering against her ear, "You're not the only one, little frostbite."

Then he vanished in a blur of movement.

The skirmish ended as quickly as it began. Bodies littered the ground. Two of their scouts were dead. Xander was on the ground, breathing hard, clutching his shoulder.

Aria rushed to him, kneeling beside him. "Hold on. You're okay."

He gave her a grim smile. "Didn't want you having all the scars."

She let out a shaky laugh, pressing gauze to his wound. But inside, her heart was screaming.

They weren't ready for this war.

Not anymore.