Page 63 of Echos and Empires (After #3)

He listened as the group’s footsteps reverberated against the metal floor, a dissonant rhythm that undercut the cold efficiency of their movements.

It was all familiar and alien at once, the memories of William’s time there overlapping with the stark reality of what Victor had left behind.

He couldn’t afford to let the past pull him under; he had to keep moving, keep fighting.

Passing row after row of broken glass and gutted machinery, each new sight seemed more unsettling than the last. Mechanical limbs twisted out from cracked shells, their wires hanging limp like the tendrils of some monstrous sea creature.

The vials and equipment told a story of mad experimentation and shattered lives, and William’s skin prickled with the knowledge that he had almost been one of them—a test subject, a discarded remnant.

“This is sick,” Bash muttered, the first words to break the cold silence between them.

“Even for what we know about Victor,” Alex agreed, his voice tight with controlled rage. “Looks like he pulled out quickly. No way they meant to leave all this.”

“Means he didn’t think we’d make it here,” Liam added, the edge of grim determination cutting through his voice. “Let’s prove him wrong.”

William set his jaw and kept moving, faster now, the urgency building with every beat of his heart. He didn’t know if he was more afraid of finding Victor or not finding him, but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t give in to the fear that whispered and taunted him with every step.

The lights dimmed and flared, a rhythmic pulse that matched the frantic beat of William’s heart. There was one final door in the room. He forced himself to look straight ahead, to block out everything but the mission.

He wouldn’t let the past claim him . He wouldn’t let Victor win.

A deafening scream announced a new threat, tearing through the space like the warning once the bombs fell.

William felt the change before he saw it, a low rumble reverberating through the floor, through his bones.

The lights went red, flashing like a heartbeat, and he knew what it meant even before the words took shape in his mind.

“Self-destruct,” he shouted, pulling them up short, his eyes scanning the chamber. It was vast and cold, a cavern of metal and wire, and he felt the weight of it pressing down on him. They’d walked right into Victor’s game, right into the jaws of the beast, and now it was closing around them.

But he couldn’t give up. Not when Emma was waiting, not when their lives were on the line.

He spotted the terminal, a small console glowing with taunting brightness in the center of the room. The noise was deafening, the low rumble of the sequence threatening to tear them apart, but William was calm, cold, his mind sharper than the edge of a knife.

“We shut it down,” he said, the command as resolute as the desperation that drove it. “Now.”

They were already moving before he finished, the decision shared and understood between them. They couldn’t lose this time. William wouldn’t let them.

He reached the terminal, his hands steady and his eyes hard as he assessed the critical choice before them.

Shut down the power, destroy everything, cut off Victor’s advantage—or risk it all to save the innocent lives trapped in the adjacent cells.

It was a race against time, and every second was a battle, a breath, a life.

William knew what he had to do, even as the world threatened to collapse around him. He had to step off and let Alex solve this, because he was better with machines.

William’s voice barely reached Alex over the chaos, but Alex knew what to do.

Shut it down. Stop the trap. Alex threw himself at the terminal as William stepped aside, his fingers and mind moving like quicksilver over the controls.

It was impossible, impossible that they would lose her now.

Lose everything. The lights flashed red, the countdown screamed.

His hands moved faster. William was with the others, ready to bolt as soon as Alex finished.

The hours they’d spent apart were too much.

He couldn’t lose her again. Couldn’t. He had to make this work. Had to.

The words on the screen blurred and then focused, his mind sharp despite the noise and the fear that clawed at him.

He’d promised they’d be safe, promised he’d never leave them again.

Emma. Her name pulsed with each beat of the countdown, pushing him to move faster, think faster.

She was his. They were all his. He couldn’t let this happen.

He ranted in his head, wild thoughts tangling with his focus.

They should’ve checked this place out. Should’ve known Victor wouldn’t be here once they realized there were no guards.

They’d been sloppy, left too much to chance, and now it was blowing up in their faces.

Literally. He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand losing them again when they’d come so close, when it had all seemed like it was finally going to work.

He wasn’t going to let it fall apart. Not now.

The lights blazed, an angry crimson that stained his vision and turned the world into a blur of desperation and need. His hands were a blur, too, flying over the keys with reckless speed, each keystroke a lifeline, a promise, a hope. He had to make this work. For her. For all of them. He had to.

The terminal beeped angrily, as if it knew how high the stakes were and how little time was left.

Alex ignored it, pushed past it, forced his mind to work harder, faster.

He could do this. He would do this. He wasn’t going to let Victor take them apart, wasn’t going to let some damn machine get the best of him.

Not now.

Not ever.

He heard the others, their footsteps ready to bolt, ready to run the second he finished. They trusted him. He had to trust himself. Had to believe he could beat this, that he could win. The air pulsed with urgency, every breath a countdown, every second a step closer to losing it all.

Alex didn’t look at the others. He didn’t need to.

He knew they were ready, knew they believed in him.

He wouldn’t let them down. His thoughts raced, a furious storm of love and fear and drive.

He couldn’t let Emma be a pawn in Victor’s game, couldn’t let the family they’d started to build shatter like glass under the weight of their enemies.

The noise was deafening, the alarms, the lights, the rapid fire of his own heartbeat. He couldn’t lose this time. Couldn’t lose her. Couldn’t lose them. He forced his focus tighter, sharper, the outside world shrinking until it was only him and the terminal and the desperate need to succeed.

They had missed something critical, missed Victor a second time.

The thought stung, a sharp blade twisting in his mind, but he couldn’t let it distract him.

He had to finish this, had to make it work.

Had to stop the countdown, stop the self-destruct, stop everything that Victor had planned to tear them apart. He was so close. So damn close.

Alex could feel it, the pieces falling into place, the code yielding to his determination, his speed, his need. It had to work. It would work. He wouldn’t accept anything else.

Not when Emma’s life was on the line. Not when they’d all sacrificed so much already.

A beep.

Then another.

Then the screen went dark.

He’d done it.

Alex barely had time to breathe before the speakers crackled to life, an icy voice shattering the brief silence.

“We let you find this place,” it taunted, calm and cutting. “A diversion. Our men in the trees, in the sky, knows where you came from.”

Alex went numb with disbelief and fury. He’d been so close. He’d stopped the countdown, stopped the self-destruct. But the real danger, the real threat—it was still out there. It had always been out there. Waiting. Watching.

His mind spun, a hurricane of anger and realization. They’d missed it, missed the real play, the real move. The force of his mistake came at him like a brutal, physical blow as the voice continued, calm and relentless.

“Victor is already gone,” it said, taunting them with the weight of the words. “You fell for the bait.”

Everything froze, then blazed into motion again. William shot a glance at Alex, his relief transformed into a new kind of urgency, a new kind of fear. They knew what it meant, just as he did. Knew the cost of the time they’d wasted.

“Your pregnant woman is about to become Victor’s prize,” the voice added, cold and precise as a knife.

Alex barely heard William’s voice over the noise, the fury, the wild beat of his own heart.

It was all around him, the brutal knowledge of how thoroughly they’d been outplayed, how close Emma was to being taken.

They’d left her, left her thinking this would be their chance, their victory. It had never been.

Bash was at his side, his expression hard and urgent, already moving, already acting. “Get to the truck!” he shouted, his voice a command, a lifeline, a desperate cry.

Alex didn’t think, didn’t pause, didn’t stop to consider. He was in motion, pushing, running, rage and fear and determination propelling him forward. They couldn’t lose her. Not again.

“Leave the rest,” Bash shouted, the words cutting through the chaos. “We can’t afford to wait.”

“We’re going!” Alex yelled back, the defiance and drive burning bright in his chest. He wouldn’t let it end like this. He wouldn’t let them take her, not when he could already feel her slipping away.

His breath came fast and wild, his feet pounding the metal floors like the beat of a frantic heart. He was out of the chamber, out of the building, barely registering the world as it flashed by in a blur of speed and fury.

They had to get back. They had to get to her before it was too late. Before Victor stole her from them, before he turned all their sacrifices to dust.

Liam in the lead, his mind clearly only on Emma as he moved faster than should have been possible, forgetting his duty to the unit the same way Alex nearly had.

Alex’s fear became a living thing, an animal that tore through the confines of the compound with a fierce, wild momentum.

His fear and fury propelled him like a force of nature, but Liam was still faster.

Alex moved with the others, through them, his desperation so loud in his head that he couldn’t hear anything else.

It was a race against time, against Victor, against everything that threatened to rip her from his arms again.

They knew what they had to do. They knew what mattered most.

Get to Emma.

The jungle blurred past Alex in streaks of green, the ground hard and punishing beneath his feet.

His movements were a blur of speed and urgency, a furious rhythm that matched the frantic pulse in Alex’s veins.

His thoughts were a chaotic tangle of fear and love and the desperate need to get back to her before it was too late.

She was everything. He couldn’t lose her again.

Couldn’t.

He pushed harder, the raw burn starting in his legs while the wild beat of his heart threatened to break loose from his chest.

It was all or nothing, and they didn’t have time for nothing.

Liam remained ahead of him, fierce and focused, his drive like a magnet pulling the rest of them forward.

William was right there, his determination fierce and unyielding.

Bash was the shadow of their urgency, a silent presence that gave their desperation form and speed.

Liam snarled something as he broke through a dense line of trees, his voice fierce and raw. Alex couldn’t make out the words, but the meaning was clear, pounding in his head, in his heart, in every gasping breath he took.

They had to reach Emma. Had to. It was the only thing that mattered.

Don’t stop. Don’t lose her.

He remembered the feeling, the raw ache of losing everything when it had all fallen apart before. Remembered how long it had taken to get back to her, to get back to the life they’d barely begun to build. He wouldn’t do it again. He’d tear the world apart first.

Chris.

The name was a brief, fleeting thought as they ran. Was he okay? Had Victor’s men reached them already? It was a new fear, a new terror, but it only drove Alex harder, only made him more determined. He pushed past it, focused on the one thing he could still change, still save. Emma.

The jungle tried to slow the unit, tried to drag them back, but they fought against it, each step an act of love, of sacrifice, of the raw will to win.

“Almost there,” Liam shouted, the words a sharp breath in the frenzy. It was both hope and warning, and it cut through the chaos with brutal clarity. “Jose, get this fucking truck moving, now!”