Chapter 21 #2
The facility’s interior is colder than the mountain air; sterile and impersonal. Industrial lighting casts harsh shadows along empty corridors with concrete floors and exposed rock walls. I move silently, placing each foot with deliberate care, listening for any sign of the guards.
I pass a row of holding cells, including the one they kept me in. The memory of being trapped here sends ice through my veins. The cold examination table, the clinical detachment of the interrogators, the feeling of my power being suppressed. I shudder and force myself to keep moving.
You could find your power when you were here. Remember that.
I exhale the words of the masking spell beneath my breath, strengthening it.
Following the sound of distant voices, I navigate deeper into the complex, using service corridors when possible. Twice, I have to duck into alcoves as personnel pass by—scientists in lab coats, security in fatigues. Each time, my heart threatens to beat straight out of my chest.
The voices lead me toward what must be a command center. I don’t dare peek around the corner, but I press myself against the wall just outside, straining to hear fragments of conversation.
“—artifact positioned at the primary seal—” says a deep voice with military crispness.
A woman responds, “The energy readouts are unprecedented. If we can successfully channel it during the resonance window—”
“How confident are we in the seventy-two-hour timeline?” A third voice, older and carrying more authority.
“The celestial alignment is exact, sir. 0300 hours, three days from now.”
“And the hybrid protocols? The Ivory League is expecting full implementation.”
“Purge authorized across all territories. Teams are on standby.”
“Excellent. They’ve been waiting for this opportunity. With the Sleeping King’s power, we’ll finally cleanse the bloodlines. No more half-breeds. No more abominations.”
Cold sweat breaks out along my spine. They’re talking about genocide. About wiping out people like me.
I shift position, needing to see inside the room.
Through a narrow gap in the doorframe, I glimpse a wall-mounted display: a detailed map with the tomb entrance marked by a pulsing red triangle.
Around it, concentric circles indicate power readings or signal strength.
And spread across the continent are smaller markers, hundreds of them, labeled with alphanumeric codes.
Target sites.
“Sir, we have another anomaly in the power grid,” a technician announces. “Third one today.”
“More interference from the tomb?”
“No, sir. Different signature. Almost like… Well, like something is deliberately disrupting our systems.”
“The tomb sentinels?”
“Possibly. Ever since the failed awakening attempt, our systems have been experiencing these glitches. Like something is draining them.”
Tomb sentinels? Draining their power?
So, it wasn’t the Syndicate responsible for our loss of power. Something else is interfering. Something stronger. As we suspected.
I edge closer, straining to see more of the map, to memorize coordinates and timelines.
“Begin pre-ritual calibration,” the authoritative voice commands. “I want everything ready when the Ivory League delegation arrives tomorrow with Elder Vex.”
“Yes, sir.”
Vex. Shit. Aside from the fact that I almost killed him, he’s one of the Syndicate’s highest-ranking elders. The fact that he’s personally overseeing this operation confirms how important it is to them.
Footsteps approach the door. I pull back, ducking behind a server rack just as two technicians exit, still discussing system anomalies.
“The interference got worse after that hybrid escaped,” one says. “Could be connected.”
“You think one half-breed could affect our entire network? Not likely.”
“Maybe not. But what about the Sleeping King? What if he’s finally stirring?”
“The Sleeping King is a symbol, you fool. Not an actual person.”
They pass without noticing me, their voices fading down the corridor. I wait until they’re gone, then slip out from my hiding place.
I need to see that map again.
Heart pounding, I risk a glance into the room. The occupants have moved out of the room, leaving the display momentarily unobserved.
I tiptoe closer, holding my breath and praying that the masking spell holds.
The map shows seven primary extraction points around the tomb, each labeled with a ritual marker.
Nearby, a smaller display shows what looks like a timeline; phases of the extraction process, culminating in something called “resonance lock.” And most chilling: a list of cities with hybrid populations, ranked by priority.
Extracting the comms device, I use the integrated camera to snap off as many images as I can. The I commit the rest to memory: dates, coordinates, code names, hierarchy. Everything Aurora will need to mount a counter-operation.
Voices approach again. I pull back, scanning for an exit route.
A corridor branches to the left; maintenance access. It should lead to the peripheral systems and eventually to an exit.
I slip down the hallway, moving faster now. I’ve pushed my luck far enough, and the intelligence I’ve gathered needs to reach Aurora.
Near what I hope is an exit, I hear footsteps. A patrol, moving briskly. I freeze, looking desperately for cover.
A supply closet to my right. I duck inside, pressing myself against the wall, barely breathing. The footsteps grow louder. Stop directly outside.
I can hear the crackle of a radio. Smell gun oil and cigarette smoke. Feel my pulse drumming in my ears.
“Did you hear something?” a voice says, so close I could reach out and touch the speaker through the door.
“Like what?” another voice responds.
There’s a pause. “I dunno.” More cigarette smoke. “Something like a… fuse blowing?”
“A fuse?” the second voice scoffs. “Probably just another short circuit. Or you’re imagining things.”
“Can you blame me?” the first voice huffs. “This place is fucked up lately. The equipment is fritzing, the lightbulbs keep blowing…”
“Get a grip,” his companion mutters. “I’m checking in.” A radio emits static. “Section clear,” he reports.
“Proceed to next checkpoint,” comes the reply.
The footsteps move away. I wait for the longest minute of my life, counting each beat of my heart, then slip out and continue toward the exit.
The maintenance door appears ahead, identical to the one I entered through. I press my palm against the scanner, praying my luck holds.
The lock clicks open.
Thank God!
Something is definitely helping me.
Cold mountain air greets me as I step outside. I don’t pause, just run, desperate to put distance between myself and the facility. I don’t stop until I’m deep in the trees, lungs screaming, legs shaking.
I collapse behind a fallen log, gasping for breath, adrenaline still surging through my system.
I did it. I actually did it. And all in under half an hour.
Relief and terror mix in equal measure. The intelligence I’ve gathered could save countless lives—if I can get it back to Aurora. If I can make it to the extraction point. If Luke doesn’t kill me first himself.
I check my bearings. The extraction point is northeast. My legs feel like rubber, but I force myself upright and start moving.
Every step takes me closer to safety. Closer to Luke’s fury. Closer to having to explain why I risked everything.
The forest seems alive with shadows. Without Luke’s presence, without his steady confidence and quiet strength, it feels overwhelming.
I find myself missing him with an intensity that catches me off guard, not just his protection, but him.
His solid presence. The way his body felt against me.
The memory of his mouth on mine, hungry and certain.
I shake the thoughts away. I need to focus on survival now. On getting this information back. On facing the consequences of my choice.
He’ll understand. Eventually.
He has to.
Because I’d do it again in a heartbeat.