Sol and Gru stayed hidden in their spot, their breathing controlled, their bodies tensed. Even though they were surrounded on all sides, there was still one advantage left—nobody knew their exact location. Yet. For now, they remained ghosts, unseen, and Sol planned to keep it that way.
He watched his plans unfold through the data streaming into his interface. Half of DreamCorp's forces were still engaged in a skirmish with the Vultures, while another detachment had broken off, investigating the disturbance he'd orchestrated near the Marauders' perch. It was working, but it wasn't enough. He needed to keep everyone moving—away from him.
Gru grunted, watching the monitors alongside him. "Kid, you've got half the damn district clawing at each other's throats. Not bad for a slum rat."
Sol ignored the backhanded compliment, eyes scanning the latest data. He needed to keep the pressure on, to keep forcing the different factions to shift their focus away from him.
"You know these streets better than I do," Sol murmured. "If I were to push them toward another spot—somewhere that would make them scramble, somewhere dangerous—where would it be?"
Gru scratched his chin, his beady eyes narrowing in thought. After a beat, he grinned—a sharp, knowing expression. "There's an old alley near the collapsed sector, runs deep into the undercity tunnels. Lotta abandoned gas pockets down there, real nasty ones. Could make for one hell of a fireworks show if set off right."
Sol's mind raced. If he played this correctly, he could get DreamCorp and the unknown faction to converge on the same point. The Vultures were already preoccupied with fighting DreamCorp's forces—pulling them any further would just complicate things. But the third party?
They were too quiet. Too calculating.
Sol turned to his interface, pulling up his last functional spider drone. He mapped out a route that would ensure it was discovered, making its path seem erratic—like an escape attempt, a mistake. The spider would have to move between buildings, scuttling across open spaces just long enough to trip motion sensors and scanners.
His plan relied on them taking the bait.
\---
Meanwhile, the Strix Marauders were finally moving. Valka had wanted to observe Sol longer, to test his adaptability, but her patience was met with resistance.
"You're letting your bad habits show again," Jex grumbled, his voice barely a whisper over their comms.
Valka's golden eyes narrowed. "And you're letting your lack of foresight get in the way."
"This mission isn't a game."
A slow silence stretched between them before Valka finally clicked her tongue and turned away. "Fine. We move."
Their figures faded into the shadows, slipping seamlessly between the broken structures of the slums, their movements calculated, precise.
Across the battlefield, DreamCorp's commander was piecing things together. His jaw clenched as his officers reported inconsistencies in their data—patterns that made no sense. They weren't just being delayed; they were being played.
"Find me the source," he growled, his voice sharp with barely controlled fury. "Now."
His recon teams immediately set out, scanning the wreckage, searching for signs of whoever was manipulating them. Sol smirked, watching it all unfold. He only needed to hold out a few more hours. Then he would be free.
But he wasn't done yet.
Sol's last spider had one more job.
He guided it carefully, its tiny legs skittering through the debris and across neon-lit alleyways. It followed the path Gru had pointed out earlier, a route that ensured it would be seen. This time, Sol didn't need it to remain hidden—he needed it to be discovered.
DreamCorp's scanners caught it immediately.
"Sir, we've detected a drone signature—non-standard, possibly modified," an officer reported.
The officer's voice was taut with urgency as he stood before the DreamCorp commander. On the central screen, a thermal reading displayed a lone drone slipping through the wreckage.
The commander's expression was thunderous. He had known—deep down—that something was wrong. His men were fighting two battles at once, and still, they had yet to find their true target.
Someone was toying with them. "Where's the drone headed?" he demanded.
"South quadrant, near the collapsed ruins. It's moving fast—looks like an escape attempt." The commander's jaw tightened. This had to be the one causing the chaos.
"Send a unit," he ordered. "Find it. Now."
Simultaneously, Jex let out a low whistle as he caught the signature blip on his scanner. "Well, would you look at that?"
The faint silhouette of a small, fast-moving drone flickered across his HUD. It was heading toward the ruined sector, weaving between obstacles like prey on the run.
"That might be our chance," Jex said, adjusting his scope. "No way the kid's this perfect. Even smart rats slip up eventually."
Valka didn't respond immediately. She watched the data scrolling across her visor, her lips pursed in thought. Something about this didn't sit right.
"Jex," she said slowly, "think for a second. He's been three steps ahead this entire time. You really think he'd just mess up now?"
Jex scoffed, shouldering his rifle. "He's a slum rat. No matter how good he is, he ain't untouchable. You're overthinking it."
Valka exhaled sharply. She wasn't convinced. But she wasn't about to waste more time arguing either.
"Fine," she relented. "We move, but we keep our distance. If this is a setup, I'm not getting caught in it."
Jex grinned. "Now you're talking."
With a single motion, Valka gestured to her squad. The Strix Marauders vanished from their perches, slipping through the shadows like wraiths, tracking the spider drone's path.
Sol watched as both DreamCorp and the Strix Marauders took the bait. His spider weaved through the debris, drawing them toward the abandoned alley Gru had mentioned.
"Come on," Sol muttered under his breath. "Follow it." His fingers hovered over his interface. He waited. The spider scuttled into the alleyway, slipping through a rusted sewer grate just as the first DreamCorp unit arrived.
"Target entered the tunnels!" one of the soldiers barked into his comms.
Above them, dark figures darted across the rooftops—the Strix Marauders keeping their distance, observing.
Sol let out a slow breath, his hands tightening into fists.
This was it.
His spider drone had made its way into the gas-filled tunnels. The plan was already in motion.
"Sorry," he whispered, watching the screen. "And thank you." With a single command, the spider detonated.
A deafening boom erupted from below, the shockwave rattling the streets as fire and debris spewed from the tunnels. The force of the explosion was enough to send DreamCorp soldiers staggering, alarms blaring through their comm channels.
From above, Valka and Jex's team barely managed to evade the blast, but the force of it sent an unmistakable message.
Jex let out a sharp curse. "What the—?"
Valka, meanwhile, remained eerily quiet.
She knew now, without a doubt.
This wasn't luck. This wasn't desperation.
This was a predator controlling the battlefield.
Sol, deep within the safehouse, exhaled as the shockwave rattled his surroundings.
It wasn't over yet. But now, everyone was playing by his rules.