The world around Mara was an abyss—cold, silent, and endless. At first, there was no sensation, no time, only the void. Slowly, though, consciousness crept back into her mind like a fog lifting. She became aware of the weight in her limbs, the ache in her muscles, and the bitter taste of chemicals on her tongue. Her eyelids fluttered, heavy and reluctant, but she forced them open. She found herself still strapped into the restraint chair, the harsh white light glaring down at her.
For a moment, her memory was fragmented. Images of Elias—what was left of him—flashed through her mind, and a sharp stab of anguish threatened to overwhelm her. The memory of his hollow eyes, his ruined body, the wires and tubes controlling him like some grotesque marionette, hit her all at once.
But that pain didn't smother her. It fueled her.
I will not let them break me. I will make them pay.
Mara tried to move, but her arms were still bound tightly to the chair. She gritted her teeth against the pain as she strained against the restraints, her muscles screaming in protest. The Syndicate thought they had her defeated, drugged, and weak. But they had underestimated the strength of her fury.
She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, forcing the fog from her mind. Think, Mara. There has to be a way out of this. The room was empty now, the guards and that twisted doctor having left her in silence. But there was no telling when they would return.
Her gaze darted around the room, looking for anything she could use. The machinery connected to Elias hummed quietly in the corner, the monitors beeping with a cold, methodical rhythm. There were no visible weapons, no obvious exits. But there was one thing Mara still had—her determination.
Suddenly, there was movement in the corner of the room. A figure stepped out of the shadows—someone she hadn't noticed before. It was a man in a Syndicate uniform, but his visor was lifted, revealing sharp, intelligent eyes. He approached her cautiously, glancing over his shoulder as if making sure they were alone.
Mara tensed, unsure whether this was friend or foe. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice hoarse but fierce.
The man raised a hand, a gesture of peace. "I'm not here to hurt you. My name is Asher. I've been watching the Syndicate for years... from the inside." He paused, his eyes searching Mara's face. "I know what they've done to your brother. I've seen it happen to others."
Mara's mind whirled with confusion. "Why should I believe you?"
Asher's expression darkened, a mixture of guilt and resolve. "Because I've seen firsthand the atrocities they commit in the name of 'progress.' I was a scientist in their labs once—part of their inner circle. But I couldn't stand by and let them destroy more lives. I've been biding my time, waiting for the right moment to take them down from within."
Mara's eyes narrowed, her body still taut with suspicion. "And why help me? What's in it for you?"
Asher hesitated before answering. "Because I've seen enough innocent people die at their hands. Your brother… I couldn't save him. But I can help you. If we don't stop them now, this cycle will never end."
Mara's heart pounded, her mind racing through the possibilities. Could she trust him? Was this some elaborate trap set by the Syndicate? But what choice did she have? If she stayed here, strapped to this chair, she would be broken just like Elias. She had to take the risk.
"Get me out of here," Mara said, her voice sharp. "Now."
Asher nodded quickly, moving to the control panel beside her. His fingers flew across the touchpad, and within moments, the cuffs around her wrists and ankles released with a metallic click. Mara gasped as she flexed her stiff limbs, the sensation of freedom almost dizzying. She was weak, but not defeated. Not yet.
"Follow me," Asher whispered, motioning for her to stay close. "We don't have much time."
Mara stood, her legs trembling beneath her, but she forced herself to stay upright. Her gaze flicked to Elias, still slumped in his chair, a hollow shell of the man she once knew. Every fiber of her being wanted to tear him free from those restraints, to carry him out of this hellhole. But she knew it was impossible. His body was too far gone, his mind too fractured by whatever torturous experiments the Syndicate had inflicted upon him.
I'll come back for you, she promised silently, though the words felt hollow even as she thought them. I'll make them pay for what they did.
Asher led her out of the cell and into a narrow corridor, dimly lit and lined with surveillance cameras. He moved with precision, taking back routes to avoid detection, his knowledge of the facility apparent with every turn. Mara followed, her mind focused on one thing—escape.
"What's the plan?" Mara whispered, glancing around as they passed through a security door. "How are we going to get out of here?"
"There's an access hatch near the east wing," Asher replied quietly, not breaking his stride. "It leads to the underground transport system. From there, we can—"
Before he could finish, the blare of an alarm shattered the silence, piercing through the corridor like a knife. Red warning lights flashed, bathing the walls in an ominous glow.
"They know you're gone," Asher said, his voice taut with urgency. "We have to move—now."
Mara's pulse quickened, adrenaline surging through her veins. She had no idea how many Syndicate soldiers would be coming after them, but she knew they couldn't afford to be caught. Not now, not when they were so close.
They broke into a run, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the narrow hall. Asher led the way, weaving through the maze-like facility with expert precision. Mara's breath came in ragged bursts, her muscles screaming in protest, but she pushed through the exhaustion. She had endured far worse. She could make it through this.
The corridor opened into a larger chamber—some sort of storage area filled with crates and machinery. But standing between them and the exit was a squad of Syndicate soldiers, their black armor gleaming under the red lights.
"Stop them!" one of the soldiers barked, raising his weapon.
Mara didn't think. She moved on instinct, diving behind a stack of crates as the soldiers opened fire, bullets ricocheting off the metal walls. Asher ducked behind a control panel, his face grim.
"We're outnumbered," he muttered. "This is going to get ugly."
Mara's mind raced. They couldn't take on the entire squad head-on—not without weapons. But then she noticed something—one of the crates had been damaged in the firefight, its contents spilling onto the floor. It was a cache of explosives.
She glanced at Asher, her eyes narrowing. "We need a distraction."
He followed her gaze and nodded, quickly understanding. "I'll cover you."
While Asher drew the soldiers' fire, Mara darted forward, grabbing one of the explosives and setting the timer. Her heart pounded as she tossed it toward the center of the room, diving behind cover just as it detonated with a deafening boom.
The explosion rocked the chamber, sending debris and Syndicate soldiers flying in all directions. Mara didn't wait to see the aftermath. She grabbed Asher's arm, and together, they sprinted toward the exit.
The path was clear now. The blast had taken out most of the soldiers, and the few who remained were too disoriented to stop them. As they burst through the door into the night air, Mara felt a surge of triumph.
They had escaped—for now.
But this wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.