Nick watched Leru on the security monitor as she was pulled into a prison cell by her restraints, the magnetic surge causing the screen to flicker. He'd tried to convince the group that he should be the one in the prison cell, that he deserved to take the risks, but they'd ultimately agreed that Leru was more suited to the field tactics that part of the plan would require. Nick couldn't deny he felt better with a gun in his hands, at least.
Behr and the others greeted her with nods if at all, Behr himself staring at the floor between his knees as he slumped on the bench at the far end. They sat in their cells like good little prisoners, not testing the magnetic restraints lest they end up pinned to the wall itself.
Aurora had gotten them into the citadel, worked them into gaps in the patrol schedules and outfitted them with disguises that had worked so far, but the rest of the plan was terrifyingly, well… not a plan. Leru was supposed to jailbreak their acquaintances in the prison while Nick, Jarett, and Hep tried to find a way to the top of the reflective spire to put extra holes in Dawn until his soul seeped out.
Nick paced in the tower near the citadel walls, armored boots clunking on the thick, metal floors in time with his heart. Screens covered one wall, and Nick's interface allowed him to access their channels through the armored helmet Aurora had given him, though most interface access in the city either flat out denied him or returned errors when he tried to examine them.
He turned back to the screen as a change in the scene caught his eye: the prisoners were all standing, eyes fixed on a point beyond the cell. They held their cuffed wrists before them, and a moment later they snapped together as one by one they were magnetically pushed from the cell. Nick flipped through the channels on the screen until he found a camera on the cell's back wall showing the prisoners being marched down the hall, an armed guard between each of them.
He followed them, flipping through channels until he saw them taken from the prison. He looked to the door, squeezing the grip on his gun as his jaw clenched, breathing quick and steady. Visions of the scrap yard flashed through his head, people beaten and used, unable to even speak, then fed to the smelter when they couldn't work anymore.
Nick undid the latch on the door, yanked the heavy thing inward, and came face to face with a thin silhouette against the harsh, outdoor light.
"Are you ready to stop hiding?" The cyborg buzzed, his awareness pressing into Nick like mucus into a sponge. Dark streaks of dried blood still ran beneath his mask's empty eyes.
Nick almost laughed out loud, thankful the helmet covered his gaping mouth as his insides attempted to cave-in on themselves.
the masked man pointed down the stairs leading to the courtyard that surrounded the spire. "One step in front, one to the right. You lead, I will direct."
Nick followed the instructions, hesitating only briefly before being overcome with a desire to move away from the abominable sentience's presence.
Lush green grass covered wide swaths of space between polished metal paths, contrasting harshly with the desert beyond the city's borders. The massive amounts of water required to keep it alive in this climate wafted back into the air in such a cloud of humidity the entire planetoid's atmosphere would probably start to change in a generation or so.
The cyborg directed him into the spire at the courtyard's center, the mirrored surface parting like a waterfall as they approached. They made their way past a half-circle desk at the front of the room and through an automated sliding door on the far wall, not stopping for approval from the uniformed young woman who glanced at them uncomfortably.
Nick took in as much of his surroundings as he could without looking like a lost child, but the masked man prodded him forward whenever he slowed down, the odd presence that surrounded him growing suffocatingly thick. The halls beyond were swarming with more collared, monochrome uniforms of deep blue, maroon, and cyan, all of whom parted around the masked man like the reflective surface of the outside wall.
He directed them down a dead end lined with elevators. A pair of orange cones as tall as his shins separated the final two doors from the rest of the hall, mirroring a pair of planters overflowing with wide, green leaves against the back wall.
The masked man continued walking as Nick stopped at the cones, crushing one underfoot on his way to the call button. He stared at the closed doors, motionless until the lift arrived. "One step in front, one to the right."