The rooftop burned under the weight of a thousand eyes.
Rows of hollow-faced soldiers raised their rifles in perfect unison, a mechanical army of flesh. Drones hovered overhead like vultures, wings buzzing with death. And at the center, the masked figure of static stood tall, its voice echoing through every speaker, every soldier, every trembling heartbeat.
"You cannot win. Every bullet, every strike—falls upon your own kind."
Layla felt Isla tremble behind her. She clenched her fists tighter. "Then we'll find another way."
Cole's flames flickered brighter, rage seething through his veins. His voice was raw, dangerous. "Or I'll burn them all until there's nothing left to control."
Rhea tilted her head, lips curling into a faint smile. "Careful, darling. Burn too bright, and you'll scorch the girl you're so desperate to protect."
Cole's jaw tightened. Layla grabbed his arm before he snapped. "Not now. Focus."
The static figure lifted a hand. The soldiers' rifles clicked into readiness.
And then—
"Fire."
The rooftop exploded with sound.
Bullets of static energy streaked across the air like lightning bolts. Layla threw herself forward, dragging Isla with her. Cole roared, unleashing a wall of fire that devoured half the shots midair. Sparks cascaded around them, the rooftop trembling under the onslaught.
Rhea darted like a shadow, weaving between soldiers with a grace that was almost inhuman. Her nails slashed throats, her whispers sent one man clawing at his head until he collapsed screaming. She never broke a sweat.
Layla gritted her teeth. She hated how effortlessly Rhea thrived in chaos.
"Layla!" Isla's voice cracked behind her. "They're not aiming at you—they're aiming at me!"
Layla's blood went cold.
Of course. Isla wasn't just a survivor—she was still the key.
"Stay low! Don't let them pin you down!" Layla shouted. She shoved Isla behind a shattered vent, heart hammering.
Cole's fire raged hotter, his fists blazing like suns. He smashed through soldiers one after another, their rifles melting in his grip. But for every puppet he downed, two more closed in.
"They're endless!" Cole snarled.
"No," Rhea corrected smoothly as she slid a knife into a soldier's gut. "They're a hive. And if you don't cut off the queen…"
She glanced toward the static figure. "…the drones keep buzzing."
For the first time, the figure stepped forward. The static around them pulsed, distorting the air. When they raised their hand, the soldiers stopped firing.
Their voice boomed, metallic and layered. "She belongs to us. Hand over the vessel, and you may live."
Isla whimpered. "N-No…"
Layla moved in front of her, shoulders squared. "Over my dead body."
The masked figure tilted their head. "Easily arranged."
The ground beneath Layla cracked as a surge of static energy shot toward her. She shoved Isla aside just as the rooftop exploded into debris. Pain tore through her shoulder, but she forced herself up, coughing dust.
Cole's flames flared hotter, fury boiling over. "You touch her again, and I'll tear you apart!"
The masked figure only raised their hand again. Soldiers rushed forward in waves.
The rooftop became a battlefield.
Cole charged headfirst, fire roaring from his fists. Every strike lit up the night sky, soldiers falling in burning heaps. His rage made him unstoppable—but also reckless.
Layla fought with precision, every move calculated. She ducked under rifles, disarmed soldiers with swift strikes, and used their weight against them. She wasn't as strong as Cole, but she was sharper. Faster.
Isla pressed against the rooftop vent, eyes wide with fear. But as bullets flew past her, something inside her snapped.
"I can't just hide…" she whispered.
Her hands trembled as static sparks flickered across her palms—the same energy that once bound her.
She could feel it. The hive. The whispers. The control.
If she could hear them… maybe she could fight them.
"Stop," Isla whispered, closing her eyes.
At first, nothing happened. The chaos roared around her—fire, gunshots, screams.
Then she felt it: a thread of static in her veins, tugging at her mind. The hive was calling.
"No…" she growled, digging deeper. "I'm not yours anymore."
Her palms burned with light. She thrust her hands forward—and the nearest soldier froze mid-step, rifle trembling in his hands.
His eyes flickered, hollow glaze cracking for a second.
Layla's eyes widened. "Isla—you—"
The control snapped. The soldier collapsed unconscious.
Isla gasped, sweat pouring down her face. "I… I can push them out."
Rhea's laughter rang sharp across the battlefield. "Oh, isn't that delightful? Our little lamb has teeth after all."
The masked figure's static voice sharpened. "Vessel. Return."
The soldiers surged faster, more aggressive now.
Layla's instincts screamed. Isla's awakening made her more dangerous than ever—not just to the hive, but to everyone. If they wanted her before, now they would stop at nothing.
Cole fought like a storm, his flames igniting half the rooftop. But his chest heaved, his movements slowing. "There's too many!"
Layla scanned the battlefield, brain racing. Soldiers. Drones. The masked figure. Isla trembling behind her. Rhea smirking like she knew the outcome already.
If they kept fighting like this, they'd be buried.
Her eyes snapped to the static figure. The source. The core.
She grabbed Cole's arm. "Stop wasting fire on the puppets. Cut off the hive!"
He followed her gaze, teeth clenched. "Then let's end it."
Together, they pushed forward.
Rhea trailed them with a knowing grin. "Finally catching up, are we?"
The masked figure lifted their hand again, static swirling into a storm. Drones dived from the sky, claws glinting. Soldiers lined up in their path like living shields.
Layla ducked low, kicking one soldier into another, creating an opening. Cole's fire ripped through the gap, clearing the way.
They reached the center.
The figure's mask buzzed, distortions rippling across it. "Futile."
"Wrong," Layla snapped. "We've got something you'll never understand."
She glanced back at Isla—trembling, terrified, but standing. Fighting.
"Choice."
Cole lunged with a blazing fist, aiming straight for the mask.
The figure caught his wrist midair.
Static exploded across the rooftop.
Cole screamed, electricity ripping through his veins. Layla shouted his name, but the hive's voice drowned her out.
"Burn if you wish. Fire dies in static."
The masked figure slammed Cole into the ground.
Layla's chest clenched. Cole—furious, reckless, protective—was losing.
She had one chance.
She launched forward, fists aimed at the mask. But the figure moved too fast, static ripping through her body and sending her sprawling.
Pain scorched her nerves. She struggled to rise.
And then—
"STOP!"
Isla's scream tore through the rooftop.
Her palms glowed brighter, static roaring outward in a shockwave. Every drone froze midair. Soldiers staggered, rifles clattering to the ground.
The masked figure turned, static flickering violently. "Vessel—"
"NO!" Isla cried, tears streaming down her face. "I'm not your vessel! I'm not your puppet!"
Her light crashed against the hive's storm, two forces colliding in a blaze of static fire.
The rooftop split, sparks raining down as energy screamed between them.
Layla shielded her eyes, forcing herself up. Cole staggered beside her, flames reigniting around his fists.
They had to help Isla.
They had to end this—now.