The wind began to howl before the dawn had even broken.
Reiji had learned to listen to the wind—it carried truth better than any messenger. And tonight, it carried war.
He stood atop the ridge overlooking the ravaged valley, cloak whipping violently behind him as thunder rolled across the horizon. The storm was not natural. The Dominion had triggered it—an electromagnetic cyclone meant to shroud their advance, to choke communications, to erase sound itself.
Below, what remained of the Vanguard trudged forward through mud and ruin, their movements synchronized by instinct more than command. Kaede walked ahead of the line, visor lowered, the faint blue glow of her tracking lens flickering as lightning danced across the clouds.
"They're masking their drones in the storm's pulse," she called through the comms. "We'll lose motion sensors in less than an hour."
Reiji nodded once. "Then we move before the sky collapses."
The thunder cracked again—closer this time, less like nature and more like artillery.
---
By the time they reached the edge of the valley, visibility had vanished entirely. Rain fell sideways, slicing against their armor like shards of glass. Each flash of lightning illuminated a new grave: half-buried tanks, broken towers, helmets filled with ash.
Kaede squinted through the downpour. "Command said the extraction tunnel was here—beneath the rail line."
Reiji crouched, tracing the mud with his fingers until they struck metal. He wiped the grime away to reveal a hatch almost invisible under the debris. "Found it."
They forced it open, one by one descending into the darkness below.
Inside, the storm became a muffled roar. The tunnel walls were slick with condensation, cables dangling like veins. Old Dominion insignias still marked the steel. Reiji ran a gloved hand across the rusted emblem.
"Everything they build ends in the same silence," he muttered.
Kaede dropped beside him, checking the path ahead. "Silence doesn't end anything, Reiji. It just hides what's left."
---
They walked for what felt like hours.
The deeper they went, the more distorted the air became—a humming vibration that crawled beneath the skin. Power conduits still pulsed faintly, feeding something further within.
Reiji raised a fist, signaling halt. The Vanguard froze.
From the far end of the corridor, faint red lights blinked in rhythm—one, two, three… then static.
Kaede exhaled slowly. "Sentries."
"No," Reiji said quietly. "Not sentries. Sentinels."
Before anyone could react, the lights shifted—stretching into humanoid silhouettes, moving unnaturally through the dark. Then the tunnel erupted in motion.
The first Sentinel leapt, claws tearing through a Vanguard's chestplate before anyone fired. Sparks illuminated its face: a mask of black metal, carved in the shape of a man who no longer existed.
Reiji drew his blade, its reflection caught in the red glow. "Formation C! Kaede, cover the rear!"
The tunnel became chaos—gunfire drowned by thunder above, steel clashing against steel in the confined dark. Reiji moved like a shadow within the storm: every strike deliberate, every breath measured. He parried one blow, twisted beneath another, driving his sword into the creature's neck where the plating split. Oil splattered across his mask like blood.
Kaede fired from behind, her shots precise even in panic—three bolts, three dead Sentinels. But they kept coming.
"Too many!" she shouted. "We'll be overrun!"
Reiji's mind worked faster than the battle itself. His eyes darted to the conduit pipes running along the ceiling—unstable, pressurized.
"Kaede! Channel surge, line 4!"
She hesitated, then understood. "You'll fry everything in here!"
"Including them," he said, already slicing through the locking panel.
She cursed under her breath, slammed her wristpad, and overloaded the circuit.
The explosion tore through the tunnel like a scream.
Electric light engulfed everything—white, blinding, absolute.
---
When the dust settled, the storm outside had quieted to a low growl. The tunnel lay in ruins; smoke coiled through the air, carrying the stench of ozone and burnt metal.
Kaede coughed, pulling herself from the debris. "Reiji—"
He was already standing, blood running down his arm where shrapnel had bitten through. His sword glowed faintly from residual charge.
"Report," he said, voice hoarse but steady.
"Seven gone," she answered. "Three wounded. Systems offline."
Reiji nodded, silent. He looked back down the tunnel—where the Sentinels now lay motionless, black husks melting into the floor. Among them, one still twitched. Its mask had cracked, revealing part of a human face beneath.
Kaede froze. "Reiji… that's—"
He knelt, brushing away the shards. The face beneath was unmistakable: Lieutenant Haru, one of the Vanguard who'd gone missing two months ago. His eyes, now glassy and mechanical, flickered once before dying completely.
Reiji said nothing. The others watched as he stood slowly, sheathing his blade with deliberate calm.
"They're not building new soldiers," he said. "They're recycling us."
The silence that followed felt colder than the storm.
---
Hours later, the Vanguard emerged from the tunnels into what remained of the valley's far side. The rain had eased into a fine mist, but the sky still burned with lightning. Beyond the hills, faint lights marked the Dominion's mobile fortress—Citadel Obsidian—a monolith of metal drifting through the clouds like a moving wound.
Kaede followed Reiji's gaze. "We can't reach it without air support."
"We won't need it."
He began descending the slope, boots sinking into the wet soil. "They turned our people into machines. Now we find who ordered it."
Kaede fell into step beside him. "You think it's the Council?"
Reiji's eyes hardened. "No. Someone higher."
Lightning split the sky, revealing his expression for a single second—determined, haunted, unbreakable.
Behind them, the Vanguard moved like ghosts in formation. The rain whispered over their armor, the rhythm of their march syncing with Reiji's heartbeat.
For the first time since the war began, the storm didn't feel like chaos. It felt like direction.
---
They reached the outer perimeter before dawn. The Citadel loomed above, its hull lit by crimson veins pulsing through the rain. Giant turbines rotated slowly beneath the clouds, each groan echoing like the breath of some ancient beast.
Kaede crouched beside Reiji, adjusting her scope. "Thermal reads hundreds—automatons, drones, maybe humans. You're not seriously thinking of entering that thing with eighteen soldiers."
Reiji smirked faintly—the first ghost of a smile she'd seen in weeks. "Eighteen is all I need."
She shook her head. "You've lost it."
He looked at her, the glint in his eyes cutting through the storm. "No. I've found it."
He raised his sword, letting the rain wash the dried blood from its edge. Around him, the Vanguard tightened formation, their silhouettes illuminated by flashes of lightning.
"Tonight," he said, voice low but clear, "the storm answers to us."
Then he stepped forward.
The thunder followed.