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“They cycle counterclockwise. Third relay has a two-second gap in surveillance.”

I directed my focus accordingly, feeling my way through digital architecture with increasing confidence. “Got it. Now second.”

Again, his certainty guided me. The silver energy flowed through my markings, through my fingertips, into the system.

Not hacking—something more organic, a communion between technologies. I wasn’t fighting the system but persuading it, rerouting pathways, creating new connections where none had existed before.

“First relay now,” Ravik urged, his voice tight with tension. “Quickly. Movement behind us.”

I heard it then—the rhythmic thud of armored footsteps. Hammond’s elite guards, drawn by the alarms.

My fingers flew over the datapad, translating the energy patterns into commands. Sweat beaded on my forehead as pain built behind my eyes, radiating outward in waves of increasing intensity.

The more I pushed my ability, the more my vision deteriorated, static crawling from the periphery inward.

“Almost—” I started, then the system yielded under my touch. The energy redirected, circuits bypassed, security protocols temporarily diverted. “Got it!”

A deep mechanical groan, followed by the hiss of hydraulics. The final gate was opening, a rectangle of darkness against the harsh compound lighting.

Beyond it lay Arenix’s wilderness, our slim chance at freedom.

“Go!” I said, yanking the datapad free, stuffing it into the pack slung across my shoulder. We might need it again if my vision continued to deteriorate.

Ravik’s arm closed around my waist, half-carrying me through the opening. Metal groaned in protest as the gate attempted to reverse its cycle, fighting my override commands.

Shouts echoed behind us—someone had spotted us. The acrid smell of plasma weapons charging filled the air, making my nostrils burn.

“Run,” I insisted, finding my feet. “I can see enough.”

A lie, but a necessary one. My vision swam with fragments of light and dark, pain consuming the edges.

But I could sense freedom ahead, the natural energies of Arenix’s complex ecosystem just beyond. A little further.

Ravik’s hand found mine, his fingers interlacing with my own. I felt his determination, his fierce protective instinct, and his absolute refusal to fail through our connection. Emotions so clear they might as well have been my own.

We stumbled forward as the gate began to close behind us, the override failing under security countermeasures. The gap narrowed, machinery screaming with effort.

We cleared it with seconds to spare, the massive metal barrier slamming shut with a thunderous clang that reverberated through my bones.

Cool night air hit my face, sweet after the recycled atmosphere of Hammond’s compound. For the first time in hours, I felt something besides pain and fear.

Hope.

RAVIK

My warrior senses sharpened as we burst through the final gate, the subtle transition from artificial to natural environment registering instantly. The manufactured tang of recycled air gave way to Arenix’s complex night scents—mineral-rich soil, the subtle decay of forest undergrowth, the faint ozone of distant geothermal activity. My hearing adjusted, filtering the compound’s artificial sounds from the natural whispers of wind through vegetation.

Zara stumbled beside me, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her silver markings were visible beneath her skin, a lingering effect from the systems she’d bypassed.

But her eyes—normally sharp and observant—remained unfocused, damaged from the neural interface. Through our strengthening bond, her pain reached me in waves, fueling the protective instinct building in my chest.

I scanned our surroundings, cataloging threats with the precision my Shadow Canyon training had instilled. Guards converged from three directions.

Six humans, four corrupted automatons. Weapons raised, the distinctive whine of charging plasma cutters slicing through the chaos of alarms.

Hammond’s elite security forces, not the regular sentries we’d evaded earlier.

My tail whipped low, balancing my stance as I positioned myself between them and Zara. The familiar weight of my ceremonial blade—recovered from Hammond’s trophy room during our initial escape—rested in my palm, its distinctive blue-black metal absorbing rather than reflecting the compound’s harsh lighting.