The night shattered.
What had been a quiet sea of campfires became a storm of gunfire and light.
Drones screamed through the air like metal hornets, their beams slicing through tents and steel alike. The sound of chaos, shouted commands, the thud of explosions, the burning hiss of plasma fire, filled the valley.
Adrian's voice barked through the comms:
"Fall back to the ridgeline! Protect the evac corridor!"
He moved like instinct, fast, ruthless, but calculated. The air was thick with smoke and heat; fragments of burning steel fell like rain. Elena ducked behind a barricade, firing short bursts to cover a group of wounded rebels retreating toward the lower tunnel.
Then came the voice, distorted, cold, familiar.
"Adrian Cross. You've run long enough."
He froze for half a second. The Syndicate commander, Marael Kane, his old handler.
Her voice bled through the speakers like poison.
Selene swore under her breath. "They're not here to destroy the camp. They want you."
"Then they'll have to earn it."
Adrian tore a pulse grenade from his belt and flung it into the advancing drones. The explosion tore the front wave apart, showering the field in fire. He turned toward the command post, but found Elena there, limping slightly, blood streaking her sleeve.
"We have to leave!" she shouted.
"Not without the intel core," Selene countered, clutching the black drive to her chest. "It's everything, locations, names, the next phase of their network."
Adrian nodded once. "Then we move. Together."
They made it to the outer ridge, the valley below ablaze in orange and white, when a streak of light split the air.
The blast threw them apart. Adrian hit the dirt hard, his ears ringing. He saw Selene tumble, the drive skittering out of her hands.
Elena crawled to him, shaking his shoulder. "Adrian, come on!"
He got up, barely hearing her. Across the smoke, he saw Selene struggling to rise, and a Syndicate unit closing in around her.
"No!!!"
Adrian charged. His rifle barked twice, dropping two of them, but more swarmed in from the shadows. He reached her, caught her arm, and then something slammed into his side, hard.
He hit the ground again, this time with a boot pressing against his throat.
A silhouette stepped out of the fire.
Marael.
Tall, armored, with the calm, polished cruelty of someone who had trained him once. Her visor reflected the flames like a mirror of hell.
"Still loyal to the lost, Cross?" she said softly.
"You could have ruled beside me."
He spat blood. "I'd rather burn beside them."
Marael sighed, almost pitying. "Then burn you shall."
She motioned with her hand. Energy surged.
A net of blue light cascaded over them, magnetic, humming, locking their limbs.
Selene screamed in frustration as the field pinned her. Elena reached for Adrian, but soldiers yanked her backward, binding her wrists.
The fight was over in seconds.
They were dragged toward a carrier, a sleek black airship hovering above the carnage. Ash's voice echoed through the static in Adrian's earpiece:
"Adrian! Answer me! Where are you?"
He tried, but the signal was jammed.
Only static.
Only the cold hum of the Syndicate's restraint field.
As they were lifted aboard, Adrian's head tilted toward the burning valley below, their camp, their freedom, their fragile alliance turning to ash.
Selene, beside him, managed a whisper. "I told you they wouldn't stop."
Adrian met her eyes, no words left.
Just the unspoken promise: this isn't over.
Elena turned her face away from the flames, tears cutting through the soot.
She reached her bound hands toward him, their fingers brushing briefly before soldiers tore them apart.
The hatch sealed.
Engines roared.
The world fell away beneath them.
Above the fire and smoke, the carrier cut a path through the clouds, taking the three of them toward the Syndicate's heart.
The last thing Adrian saw before the hatch closed was Ash's silhouette in the distance, standing amid the ruins, gun in hand, watching the sky.
They were captured.
But the war wasn't over.
It was just changing shape.