The chaos was absolute.
We had the upper hand—until we didn't.
Eliana staggered, her grip on the mutant enforcers slipping as blood trickled from her nose. The strain of controlling them was wearing her down fast. I saw her try to push forward, to regain control, but she never got the chance.
A soldier broke through the frenzy, rifle raised.
Three shots.
One—a crack of gunfire.
Two—Eliana gasped.
Three—she dropped.
I barely registered the sound that left my throat as I lunged toward her. Blood bloomed across her side, staining her jacket. The moment she hit the ground, the remaining mutants snapped out of her influence. Their eyes refocused—on us.
And then, hell really broke loose.
They charged.
I spun, fists crackling with that strange energy, my body moving on instinct. I struck one, and his form glitched—phasing in and out of existence—before he collapsed. But there were too many, and they were angry.
Jax was holding his own, but even his iron skin was starting to show dents from the sheer force of the blows he was taking. Malik was moving fast, blade flashing, but for every enforcer he cut down, two more took their place.
And then I felt it.
A shift in the air.
I turned—too late.
The missile came from the far end of the corridor. A compact projectile, sleek and deadly, launched straight at me.
There was no time to dodge.
No time to think.
Just a single heartbeat—
And then a blur.
One moment, I was bracing for death. The next, I was somewhere else. The missile detonated where I'd been standing, obliterating the section of the corridor. Flames and debris swallowed the space in a deafening explosion, but I was out.
Vanish stood beside me, his breath coming fast, his body flickering like a mirage.
"Shit—Jamal, you good?!" his voice cut through the ringing in my ears.
I blinked, my brain scrambling to catch up.
He'd saved me—by a fraction of a second. A millisecond later, and I would've been gone.
I exhaled sharply, chest rising and falling.
"Yeah," I rasped. "I'm alive."
But this fight was far from over.
Eliana was pushing herself up, wincing, her face pale from exertion. The enforcers were regrouping, stronger than any we'd faced before. And as Malik cut through another wave of them, he let out a low curse.
"This one's different," he muttered, blocking an incoming strike with his blade. His voice was grim. "Tougher than any we've hit before.
I gritted my teeth.
If this was their strongest facility yet…then we were in for a brawl till dawn.
The alarms howled like dying sirens, swallowed by the storm of gunfire and chaos ripping through the facility. We had moved in like ghosts—silent, precise, deadly—but now? Now, we were drowning.
This wasn't a raid. This was a war.
I dove behind a console just as a high-impact round tore past, slamming into the steel behind me with enough force to dent it. The heat from an explosion licked at my skin, the scent of burning metal thick in my throat.
The comms crackled. Malik's voice—strained, hoarse—cut through the madness.
"This is bad. Real bad."
I wiped blood from my brow, my pulse hammering. "We've been in worse."
Malik let out a short, bitter laugh. "No, Tobi. We haven't."
That made my stomach drop.
Malik was a fighter, a survivor, the kind of man who would charge into hell and spit in the devil's face. But right now?
Right now, he sounded like he had seen hell.
And it was looking right back at us.
I peeked over my cover, scanning the battlefield—bodies, wreckage, shadows moving too fast to track. Enforcers weren't just responding. They were coordinating, their movements too precise, too efficient.
Then I saw why.
They weren't just human.
They were us.
Mutants. Enhanced. Just like us—but under their control.
The realization slammed into me like a freight train. This is why the facility was empty outside. This is where they were.
We didn't just walk into a fortress.
We walked into a slaughterhouse.
A figure materialized in the smoke, armor cracked but still standing, electricity arcing between his hands. My gut twisted.
Steven.
His stance was loose, casual, but his eyes—dead cold.
He lifted a hand, and I barely had time to react before the world detonated.
The blast was like a hurricane of raw force, ripping me off my feet, slamming me into a wall so hard my vision fractured. Pain exploded in my ribs. I hit the ground, gasping, ears ringing.
His movements were mechanical. No hesitation. No recognition. Just pure, calculated violence.
Then he lifted his arm—
And fired.
I barely twisted in time. The concussive blast shredded the air beside me, tearing through metal like paper. I hit the ground in a roll, heart hammering.
"Steven, snap out of it! It's me!"
No reaction. Not even a flicker of recognition.
Another blast. I ducked. The wall behind me exploded.
"I don't think he can hear you, Jamal."
I gritted my teeth. "Like hell he can't—"
I barely dodged the next shockwave. Steven was relentless, each attack calculated, precise—like he wasn't even there.
"Come on, man! It's me—Jamal!" I called out again, desperation creeping into my voice.
The air ruptured. A blast of pure concussive force tore through the space between us, shattering the floor where I'd been standing a second ago. I twisted mid-air, landing hard, my ears ringing.
"Steven, snap out of it! It's me!"
No reaction.
Another shot—closer this time. I barely ducked, the shockwave slicing overhead, splitting a steel beam in half. Dust and debris rained down, filling the air like smoke.
"Steven!" I tried again, my voice raw. "It's me, Jamal!"
Nothing. No hesitation. No recognition.
Just another attack.
I dove behind a fallen pillar, my breath ragged.
"He can't hear you, Jamal."
The voice slithered through my mind, smooth, calculating.
"He can," I gritted out, tightening my grip. "I know he can."
"You really think a few sentimental words will break whatever hold they have on him?" The voice sounded amused. "Cute."
Another explosion ripped through my cover, forcing me into the open. I hit the ground in a roll, barely dodging the next shot. Too close.
"You know what would work better?"
I felt it before I saw it—electricity surging through my limbs, my nerves igniting like a power grid overloading.
"Pain."
My body moved.
Not by choice.
Electricity crackled around my arm, shaping, sharpening—aimed straight at Steven's chest.
I fought it. My breath came in short gasps, my muscles locking up as the voice twisted deeper into my mind, yanking my power out of my grasp.
"Let me in, Jamal. I'll break him open. Just enough to set him free."
"NO!"
I forced my fingers open, tried to shake the charge loose, but my body wasn't mine anymore. The current only intensified, searing through my veins, building to something I couldn't stop.
Steven stepped forward, unfazed, his blank eyes locked onto me.
For a moment—just a moment—something flickered there. A hesitation. A glitch.
A memory.
Then his fingers twitched. His next shot faltered.
He was in there.
I latched onto that thought, onto that last hope, even as my body trembled under the weight of my own power, even as the storm inside me raged—
"Jamal," the voice sighed, almost pitying.
"Don't let me do this?"
I barely had time to process the warning.
Because Steven's palm was already raised.
A final shot.
Straight for my skull.
The air stilled.
My pulse pounded in my ears as I watched it, helpless, frozen in place—
A shockwave, massive, unstoppable, heading straight for me.
And I couldn't dodge.
The realization hit like ice, like gravity itself had turned against me.
The voice hummed, distant. "Well… this is unfortunate."
The force surged closer, the pressure crushing—
There was no time.
No escape.
[INITIATING SEQUENCE]
"I warned you Jamal"
[OVERRIDE ENGAGED.]
A piercing whine filled my skull. My limbs seized. My vision warped—glitching, distorting.
[RECLAIMING CONTROL]
I gasped, but my lungs ignored me. My fingers twitched, then curled into a fist against my will.
[SUBMIT.]
The voice repeated, cold, mechanical, layering over itself—surrounding me.
[SUBMIT. SUBMIT. SUBMIT.]
I resisted. I fought. But my body was not mine anymore.
My knees buckled. My thoughts scrambled.
[HOST OVERRIDDEN.]
My mind flickered—static—
Then—nothing.
Darkness consumed me.