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T he shield segment had collapsed, creating a dark gap in the perimeter’s defensive glow. The absence of the energy field changed the air pressure subtly—a difference most humans wouldn’t notice but obvious to my senses.

I approached cautiously, staying in shadow, every muscle tense with readiness. My nostrils flared, catching the scent signatures of the nearest guards—still focused on the explosion site, their attention diverted exactly as planned.

I felt Zara’s pain spike sharply, followed by disorientation and fear through our bond. The sensations were so intense they nearly made me stumble.

Something had gone very wrong. I dropped all pretense of stealth and raced toward her location, keeping low beneath the sightlines of the automated sensors.

I found her staggering near the junction box, her hands outstretched, movements uncoordinated. The markings on her skin had formed new, complex patterns I’d never seen before.

They crawled along her skin like living circuitry, branching and connecting in response to the massive energy surge she’d absorbed. The smell of ozone and burned circuitry surrounded her.

But it was her eyes that sent a chill through me—unfocused, dilated, staring at nothing. “Ravik?” Her voice sounded through our bond rather than aloud, tight with panic.

“I can’t see.” The interface had taken her vision.

I’d seen similar consequences among Shadow Canyon archivists who attempted to access damaged technology without proper preparation. The clan histories documented cases where younger, untrained archivists interfaced with corrupted systems, the visual cortex overloaded by unfiltered data.

Some recovered after days or weeks. Others never did.

I reached for her, gripping her arm to stabilize her. She flinched before recognizing my energy signature through our bond.

The contact sent a surge of connection between us—her pain and fear flowing into me, my stability anchoring her. “Shield down,” she said, her voice strained.

Sweat beaded on her forehead, her skin too pale, too hot. “But I can’t—” “I know,” I replied, keeping my voice steady despite the urgency pounding through me.

The compound would notice the shield failure any moment. “Can you move?”

“Yes.” A lie, obvious through our bond, but her determination was genuine.

I shifted my hand to her back, using the touch to guide her while keeping my other hand free in case we encountered resistance. My tail remained low and tense, ready to assist with balance or respond to threats.

The compound was in chaos from my diversion—alarms shrieking, emergency lights flashing, the acrid smell of smoke and suppressant chemicals filling the air. The sounds would be overwhelming for Zara’s human hearing, but useful for masking our movements.

Still, it wouldn’t last. Already, voices were shouting about the shield breach.

We had minutes at most. “Three steps clear,” I murmured, using the bond to supplement my verbal directions with spatial awareness.

The terrain ahead was uneven, scattered with debris from recent construction. “Guard left!”

A confused security officer appeared at the corner of a maintenance shed, his attention divided between the main explosion and his patrol route. His weapon was drawn, the energy cell glowing faintly in the darkness.

I pulled Zara into the shadows, my tail wrapping instinctively around her waist to stabilize her as we froze in place. The contact was more intimate than I’d intended, but the effect was immediate—her balance improved, our movements synchronizing through the dual connection of hand and tail.

The guard passed within meters of us, unseeing in the darkness, the scent of his fear and confusion sharp in the night air. We moved forward again, Zara stumbling despite her best efforts.

Her blindness made our escape infinitely more dangerous, but the determination flowing through our bond never wavered. She followed my guidance with absolute trust—a stark contrast to our first days of captivity.

The memory of her defiance when thrown into my cell seemed from another lifetime, though it had been less than two moon-cycles. The breach in the shield was directly ahead, a ten-meter gap that led to the rough wilderness beyond.

The night air flowed through it, carrying the scents of the geothermal field—sulfur, mineral-rich water, the distinctive tang of native vegetation. We were halfway there when an automated defense turret swiveled in our direction, its sensors compensating for the reduced visibility.

The soft whir of its tracking mechanism reached my ears moments before its targeting laser activated. I pushed Zara down as energy pulses scorched the air above us.

The heat singed the ends of my braids, the smell of burned hair acrid in my nostrils. The ground was hard beneath us, stones digging into my partially healed side wounds.

“Stay low,” I ordered, both verbally and through the bond, sending an impression of the turret’s position. “Crawl forward on my signal.”

The turret’s firing pattern had a three-second pause between bursts. I counted silently, monitoring its rhythm through sound and the subtle vibrations of its charging cycle.

“Now,” I commanded as it paused, guiding Zara forward several meters before pulling her down again as another burst fired, the energy pulse so close I felt its heat against my skin. Two more cycles brought us to the edge of the compound.

Beyond lay rough terrain—a minor ravine, then the geothermal field we would need to cross to reach our planned extraction point. The smell of sulfur grew stronger, mixed with the distinctive mineral scent of the hot springs.

But first, we had to clear the final stretch of exposed ground. “One final push,” I told her, feeling her exhaustion and pain through our bond.

Her body temperature was elevated, breathing shallow, heart rate too fast—all signs of system shock from the energy surge. “Thirty meters to cover.”

She nodded, her unseeing eyes fixed ahead. A line of sweat traced her temple, and her markings responded to the environment around us.

“What’s the terrain?” “Uneven. Follow my lead exactly.”

I wrapped my arm around her waist, supporting more of her weight. My tail maintained contact with her other side, creating a balanced framework.

“Ready?” Instead of answering, she sent determination through our bond, straightening her posture despite the pain.

The sensation was distinctly human in its stubborn refusal to yield, yet familiar to a warrior’s spirit. “Left foot forward,” I guided, moving us as one unit.

The synchronization was immediate, our bond facilitating a level of coordination impossible otherwise. “Step down. Now right.”

We crossed the final stretch in this manner, synchronized through touch and bond. Once beyond the compound’s immediate perimeter, I pulled her into the shelter of a rock formation, scanning for pursuit.

The chaotic response to my diversion still occupied most of the compound’s security, but organized search parties would follow soon. The breeze carried distant voices, shouted orders.

They were regrouping faster than I’d hoped. Zara’s breathing was labored, her skin hot to the touch.

Through our bond, I felt the cost of her actions—the strain of interfacing with technology never meant for human connection. The pain radiated from her eyes, her neural pathways overloaded with alien data structures.

My clan elders would say she was fortunate to be alive after such reckless connection. “The ravine is ahead,” I told her, allowing a brief rest against the rocks.

The rough stone offered some protection from thermal sensors, and its mineral composition would help mask our energy signatures. “Then the geothermal field. It’s unstable.”

She nodded, her face turned toward my voice despite her blindness. Her fingers pressed against the rock face, exploring its texture.

“I can sense the energy patterns. Not clearly, but enough to help navigate.” She lifted her hand, the silver beneath her skin revealing new capabilities.

“Like a map in my head. Different from sight, but... functional.”

I looked at her with new understanding. Even blind, her markings were functioning as a sensor network, giving her a different kind of perception.

It wouldn’t compensate fully for vision, but it might keep us alive. Our bond had facilitated this adaptation, I realized—her human mind processing the alien data in new ways.

“We need to move,” I said, scanning the compound behind us. Searchlights were beginning to sweep the perimeter, their beams cutting through the darkness.

The mechanical whir of automated drones reached my sensitive hearing—Hammond’s scouts would be deployed soon. “Can you continue?”

Her hand found mine, squeezing once. The touch sent a surge of determination through our bond.

“Lead the way.” I guided her to the edge of the ravine, describing the descent path as we began the next phase of our escape.

“The stone is loose here. Place your foot where mine was.” My tail remained in light contact with her side, offering additional stability as we navigated the steep slope.

The rocks shifted beneath our weight, small cascades of pebbles betraying our passage. Her trust in my guidance was absolute, just as I was now trusting her unique perception of the energy fields ahead.

The realization was sobering—neither of us would survive alone. The bond between us hummed with shared purpose as we disappeared into the wilderness, leaving Hammond’s compound behind.

Ahead lay greater dangers, but also the promise of freedom—if we could reach the extraction point alive. The scent of the geothermal field grew stronger as we descended—sulfur, mineral-rich water, the distinctive plants that thrived in its harsh conditions.

The ground grew warmer beneath our feet, warning of the unstable terrain ahead. Zara’s face turned unerringly toward the areas of greatest energy concentration.

“The field boundaries are fifty meters ahead,” I told her, adjusting our course to approach from the most stable direction. “I can smell the active vents. We’ll need to move carefully.”

She nodded, her focus sharpening through our bond as she processed the new environmental data through her altered perception. “I can feel them. Like... heat signatures, but more complex.”

“Then we should see what awaits us.”

“Onwards,” she whispered.

The word resonated as we moved forward into the dangerous terrain beyond.