The ascent was slower than they expected.
Every step echoed louder, every breath drawn tighter. Though no alarms blared, and no red lights flashed overhead, a tension clung to them—like the facility itself had awakened.
Aera's datapad vibrated softly in her hand.
"Syrix," she whispered. "Status?"
"DATA TRANSFER COMPLETE. SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED. WARNING: PASSIVE SURVEILLANCE NETWORK ACTIVATED. ESCAPE RECOMMENDED."
She clenched her jaw. "Shit."
Elian, walking ahead, didn't need the warning. He felt it too.
"They know something was triggered," he said, checking his rifle. "Even if they don't know what yet."
The Dawnbreakers fell into a tight formation. No idle chatter now—just movement and instinct.
The old corridors stretched before them like veins in a corpse. They passed the chamber with the skeletons. Past rusted bulkheads. Through the server wing that still hummed like an animal breathing in its sleep.
Then—behind them—a noise.
Clank.
Not a falling pipe. Not wind.
Metal footsteps.
Aera spun around. "Contact—rear!"
The corridor behind them flashed with red optics. Two humanoid sentries, sleek and tall, with dull white plating—imperial recon mechs. Silent, agile, and deadly. They emerged from behind the shadows like ghosts.
"They're tracking the energy signature!" Elian shouted. "Move!"
The Dawnbreakers sprinted.
Gunfire erupted—silent at first, then thunderous as plasma bolts struck the walls around them. Aera ducked a blast that would've scorched her shoulder, returning fire as Syrix flickered on her HUD.
"EXIT ROUTE: 110 METERS. TURN RIGHT IN THREE."
"Follow me!" she yelled, her voice cracking with command.
They ran through the dead corridors, firing on the move. The mechs kept pace—uncaring, unrelenting. One Dawnbreaker was clipped in the leg and nearly fell, but Aera and Elian caught him without hesitation.
"Just go!" the soldier shouted.
"We leave no one!" Aera snapped, dragging him along.
They reached the stairwell—half-collapsed, slippery with condensation and grime. Light poured down from above.
"Go! GO!"
One by one, they scrambled up the narrow path. At the top, Elian planted a charge behind them.
"Blow it!"
BOOM!
The stairwell caved in with a thunderous crash. A cloud of dust and debris roared through the chamber like a hurricane. The mechs were buried in seconds.
Silence again.
But this time, it felt earned.
Aera collapsed against the wall, panting hard. The others staggered out into the surface air, blinking into the pale light of early dawn. The Whispering Hollows stretched endlessly behind them.
The entrance to the hidden facility sealed itself with a metallic hiss.
Gone.
Buried.
And still listening.
They regrouped beside a ridge, where jagged rocks shielded them from open sightlines. Elian clutched the data drive like it was a sacred artifact.
"This is everything," he said. "Their plan. Their tactics. Their next move."
Aera wiped the sweat from her brow, still catching her breath. "Then we don't waste it."
She stared eastward—toward their destination, far beyond the horizon.
"Let's keep moving."