The cold night air bit at Mara's skin as she and Cassian made their way through the back alleys of District 7. The city was a maze of neon and shadows, its streets buzzing with the hum of neon lights and distant murmurs of the nightlife, but here, in the forgotten corners, it was eerily silent. The towering skyscrapers above them seemed to loom closer, casting long shadows over the narrow streets. This was the part of the city where people disappeared, where the Syndicate's power was felt the most, but its presence the least obvious.
Mara tugged her jacket tighter around her shoulders, trying to keep her mind focused. Every step they took felt heavier, more dangerous. This was the first real step toward their rebellion. They were moving beyond the safety of their isolated operations and diving into the tangled web of underground resistance groups. There were few places left in the city untouched by the Syndicate, but rumors whispered of hidden factions, groups of people who had lost everything and were desperate to fight back. The problem was finding out who they could trust.
"Are you sure this is the right place?" Mara asked quietly, glancing sideways at Cassian. Her eyes flicked toward the end of the alleyway where a rusty metal door was half-hidden behind piles of discarded crates and debris.
Cassian nodded, his face lit only by the flicker of a nearby streetlight. "This is it. I've been here before, a long time ago. If they're still around, this is where we'll find them."
Mara wasn't convinced. The place looked abandoned, forgotten. And that could either be a good sign—keeping them off the Syndicate's radar—or a trap. In a city like this, trust was a rare commodity. Every corner hid someone with a knife ready for your back. She knew it, and she could feel Cassian's tension too.
Cassian moved ahead of her, reaching for the door, his hand resting on the rusted handle for a moment before he knocked—three short taps, then two slow ones. Mara's hand hovered near her side, ready to grab the knife she kept concealed under her jacket. Her heartbeat quickened in her chest as they waited.
Nothing.
Mara's eyes darted around the alley, scanning the dark windows above, the crumbling bricks of the surrounding buildings. Was this a mistake? Had Cassian led them into a trap? She knew he wasn't reckless, but desperation had a way of clouding judgment.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, there was a soft creak from behind the door. A pair of eyes, shadowed and suspicious, peered through a narrow crack as the door slowly opened.
"You shouldn't be here," a low voice said, barely above a whisper. The speaker was a woman, her face hidden in the shadows, but Mara could see the glint of something metallic in her hand—likely a weapon.
Cassian took a step forward, his hands raised to show he meant no harm. "We're not here for trouble. We're here for answers."
The woman's eyes narrowed, scanning the alley behind them before she stepped back, letting them in. "Close the door behind you. Quickly."
Mara hesitated for only a second before stepping inside. The room was dimly lit by a single flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting long, eerie shadows across the floor. The walls were lined with old crates and shelves, and the air was thick with the scent of dust and something stale. It didn't feel like a rebellion headquarters—it felt like a tomb.
The woman moved quickly, locking the door behind them with a series of heavy bolts. She turned to face them, her hand still resting on the hilt of a blade at her hip. Her face, now visible in the dim light, was sharp and worn, her eyes hard with years of distrust. She was older than Mara had expected, her skin lined with the marks of someone who had lived through a lot more than just the Syndicate's rule.
"You're either very brave or very stupid to come here," the woman said, her eyes flicking between Mara and Cassian. "Which is it?"
Mara straightened her shoulders, forcing herself to meet the woman's gaze. "We're neither. We're survivors. And we're looking for others like us."
The woman scoffed. "Survivors don't come knocking on doors in the middle of the night. Survivors stay hidden, stay quiet, and pray the Syndicate doesn't find them."
Cassian stepped forward, his tone measured but firm. "That's the problem. Staying hidden won't change anything. We know what the Syndicate is doing. We've seen it. They're experimenting on people, controlling the city from the shadows. We can't keep running. We have to fight back."
The woman's expression didn't soften, but something in her posture shifted. "And you think we don't know that? You think we haven't been fighting?"
"We're not asking you to trust us right away," Mara said, trying to keep her voice steady. "But we've got something. Information. Proof. The kind that could make a difference if we get it into the right hands. But we can't do it alone."
The woman's eyes narrowed. She crossed her arms, leaning back against the wall as if considering their words. "So you think you're the first ones to come through here, waving promises of revolution? You think we haven't seen people just like you before? The Syndicate doesn't fall because two people have a vendetta."
Mara felt a sharp pang of frustration but forced herself to stay calm. They had expected resistance, but not this kind. "This isn't just about revenge," she said, her voice low. "This is about stopping them before they destroy everything. Before there's nothing left to save."
The woman was silent for a long moment, her eyes hard as they studied Mara's face. Finally, she pushed herself away from the wall, gesturing toward the door behind her. "You say you have proof. Let's see it."
Cassian hesitated for a fraction of a second before pulling a small, encrypted drive from his jacket pocket. He handed it to the woman, his gaze steady. "Everything we've found is on this. Names, dates, locations. The experiments, the people they've taken."
The woman took the drive but didn't move immediately. "If what you say is true, you've already signed your death warrants. You know that, right?"
Mara swallowed hard. She had known that from the moment she saw the video of Elias. There was no going back. "We've known for a long time."
The woman looked at them both for another long, tense moment before finally nodding. "I'll get this to the others. If what's on here is real, we'll talk again. But if you're lying, if this is some Syndicate trick…"
"It's not," Cassian said quickly, cutting her off. "You'll see."
The woman slipped the drive into her coat pocket, her eyes flicking toward the door. "Get out of here. Don't come back unless I send for you. And keep your heads down. The Syndicate has eyes everywhere."
Without another word, she unlocked the door, nodding for them to leave. Mara felt a rush of relief as she stepped back into the cold night air, but it was quickly replaced by a heavy sense of uncertainty. They had made their move, but now the waiting began.
As the door clicked shut behind them, Mara glanced at Cassian. "Do you think they'll help?"
Cassian's expression was unreadable, his voice quiet. "I don't know. But we just gave them everything. If they don't, we're finished."
Mara stared at the dark, narrow alley ahead, her chest tight with anxiety. The shadows seemed to close in around them, and the weight of what they had done pressed down on her like a vice.
They had thrown themselves into the heart of the rebellion. There was no turning back now.