Kael sat in the dim, windowless cell, his stomach growling with hunger. He wasn't sure how many hours—or days—had passed since they locked him in. The air was stale, thick with the scent of rust and damp stone. His head throbbed, and his throat burned with thirst.

  The sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence. Kael straightened, though his muscles protested the movement. The heavy metal door groaned open, and a figure stepped inside, flanked by two guards armed with modified EMP rifles. It wasn't Ayla.

  Wes, the guard from their arrival, stepped inside, his expression unreadable.

  "Get up," Wes ordered.

  Kael stood slowly, his hands at his sides. "What's going on?"

  "Move." Wes's tone left no room for argument.

  Kael complied. He didn't resist as they cuffed his wrists with a device that delivered faint, rhythmic shocks, keeping him on edge. The guards flanked him as Wes led the way out. They moved through dimly lit corridors, the walls rough and uneven, showing the makeshift nature of the Feeler base. Kael's eyes scanned for details instinctively, cataloging the twists and turns.

  They stopped at a small chamber lit by a single overhead bulb. Inside, a table and two chairs waited, with Kiran seated on the far side. A second Feeler—a wiry woman with sharp eyes and a shaved head—leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Wes gestured for Kael to sit, and the guards stepped back to block the door.

  Kiran leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Let's get this over with."

  Kael met his gaze evenly. "That makes two of us."

  The wiry woman chuckled, a low, unpleasant sound. "You've got some nerve, enforcer."

  Kiran silenced her with a glance, then turned his attention back to Kael. "You're not exactly in a position to talk back. Let's start simple. Name?"

  "Kael."

  "Full name," Kiran pressed.

  "Kael Maren."

  "Age?"

  "Twenty-five."

  The wiry woman snorted. "You look older."

  Kael ignored her, his focus on Kiran. "Anything else? My favorite color, maybe?"

  Kiran's expression darkened. "You think this is a game? You've got one chance to convince me you're not here to bury us."

  Kael's jaw tightened. "If I wanted to turn you in, I wouldn't be sitting here. I'd be watching drones tear this place apart."

  "Not convincing," the wiry woman said, her tone mocking. "You could've come here to gather intel, make it easier for them to hit us later."

  Kiran leaned back, folding his arms. "Why'd you leave The Concord?"

  Kael hesitated, the weight of the question pressing on him. "Because I felt. For the first time... with Ayla's device. I saw... what they are really are."

  "And what's that?" Kiran's tone was sharp.

  "They're more than suppression," Kael said slowly. "They're harvesting people. Treating us like animals."

  Kiran tilted his head. "So you woke up one day and decided to switch sides? Just like that?"

  "No." Kael's voice hardened. "It wasn't just one day. It wasn't one thing; it was all of it."

  The wiry woman pushed off the wall, stepping closer to Kael. "You're saying you grew a conscience? How convenient."

  Kael met her glare, refusing to flinch. "Believe what you want. I don't care. I'm here because of Ayla."

  "Not good enough," Kiran said, his voice low. "Trust is earned, not given. And right now, you're a liability. One signal from your NeuraSphere, and we're all dead."

  Kael's fists clenched, though the cuffs restricted his movements. "The NeuraSphere is disabled. Ayla made sure of that."

  "And yet, you still led drones straight to her safehouse," the wiry woman snapped.

  Kael leaned forward, his voice steady but sharp. "If I were working for them, do you think I'd let myself be locked in a cell for... I don't even know how many days? Look, Ayla trusts me.

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  Kiran studied him, his gaze piercing. "Ayla has her flaws. Misplaced trust might be one of them."

  The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut. Kael's breathing slowed, his mind racing. He needed to shift the balance, to prove he wasn't the enemy.

  "You think I want to be here?" Kael asked, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask to have my entire world ripped apart. I believed in The Concord my whole life. And now it's all a lie!"

  Kiran's expression didn't soften.

  The wiry woman scoffed, though there was less heat behind it. "A touching story. Doesn't mean it's true."

  "I don't care if you believe me," Kael said flatly. "I'm not here to prove anything to you. But if you want to survive what's coming, you'll need every advantage you can get. That includes me."

  Kiran exchanged a glance with the wiry woman, who shrugged but didn't object. After a moment, Kiran stood, motioning for the guards.

  "Take him back to the cell," Kiran ordered.

  The guards grabbed Kael's arms and hauled him to his feet. As they led him out, Kiran's voice followed.

  "We'll decide what to do with you soon enough."

  The days in the cell stretched endlessly, the constant hunger and thirst gnawing at Kael's strength. The stale air seemed heavier, and the silence only amplified the weight of his thoughts. He'd replayed the interrogation over and over, wondering if he'd said enough—or too much. The Feelers weren't about to let him walk free just because Ayla trusted him. And that trust felt as fragile as the rusted walls enclosing him.

  The sound of the cell door creaking open snapped him from his thoughts. Ayla stepped inside, her face shadowed with tension. She didn't speak at first, letting the heavy clang of the door shutting behind her punctuate the silence. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway.

  "They're not convinced," she said flatly.

  Kael huffed a breath. "No surprise there."

  "You didn't help by being your usual stoic self," Ayla countered.

  "I'm can't help that," Kael replied evenly.

  Ayla hesitated, her voice lowering. "I might've found a way for you to prove yourself."

  Kael raised an eyebrow, wary. "I'm listening."

  "A supply team didn't come back," Ayla said, her voice low.

  Kael frowned. "Concord?"

  Ayla nodded. "We've lost contact. They were on their way back from a depot just outside the city's edge. It's one of our usual routes."

  "How long?" Kael asked.

  "Too long," Ayla replied. "Kiran's already sent scouts, but they haven't found anything. If The Concord caught them..."

  She trailed off, her jaw tightening.

  Kael leaned forward, his instincts kicking in. "How many?"

  "Four," Ayla replied, her tone clipped. "Two scouts, two haulers. They had some weapons, but nothing to match an enforcer unit if they ran into one."

  Kael cursed under his breath. "Do you know where they were last seen?"

  Ayla hesitated, then handed him a rough map, a grid of the Outskirts with faded markers and notations. "Here. Near the old freight terminal."

  Kael studied the map, his mind clicking into gear. The freight terminal was a known Concord checkpoint—standard procedure to control smuggling and monitor unauthorized movement. If the Feelers had been intercepted, they'd likely been taken to a nearby Concord outpost for processing.

  "You need to move fast," Kael said, tapping the map. "If they've been caught, they'll be sent to a containment facility within hours. You have a small window before they're gone."

  Ayla frowned. "Containment facility? You mean one of their holding depots?"

  "Exactly," Kael said. "Standard protocol for intercepted groups. They'll detain them long enough to verify identities and run suppression diagnostics. If they suspect any connection to the resistance, they'll escalate."

  "And if they don't?" Ayla asked, though her expression suggested she knew the answer.

  Kael's lips pressed into a grim line. "Reconditioning or worse."

  Ayla's gaze darkened, her fingers curling into fists. "Then we don't have time to waste."

  Kael tapped the map again. "This freight terminal isn't just a checkpoint—it's a nexus. Concord uses it to monitor supply routes, but they're spread thin in the Outskirts. The guards will be minimal, likely two enforcers per shift and a few drones for perimeter scans."

  "That's still more firepower than we have," Ayla muttered.

  "Not if you play it smart," Kael said. "Their drones run predictable patterns. I've worked those routes—I know where the blind spots are."

  Ayla studied him. "And after we get in?"

  "They'll have a holding area near the center of the terminal," Kael explained. "Standard layout: one main entrance, likely guarded, with secondary access through a maintenance shaft or ventilation system. If you can create a diversion—an EMP to disrupt the drones or a fake perimeter breach—you'll draw their attention away from the interior."

  "And the enforcers?" Ayla pressed.

  Kael hesitated, then met her gaze. "They'll follow protocol. Enforcers are trained to secure the perimeter first, assuming any threat is external. You'll have a window to extract your people while they're distracted."

  Ayla crossed her arms, considering his words. "And once we're out?"

  Kael's mind raced, the plan taking shape. "The terminal's secondary route feeds into an old rail line. Concord doesn't patrol it—it's too damaged for vehicles, and they've deemed it low risk. You can use it to evade their sensors and loop back to the Outskirts."

  Ayla didn't respond immediately, her gaze locked on him as if weighing his every word. Finally, she straightened, her expression hardening. "You sound like you've done this before."

  "Not from your side," Kael admitted. "But I've been on enough intercept missions to know how to avoid them."

  Ayla stepped closer, her tone lowering. "You realize that if this doesn't work, Kiran will have even more reason to kill you."

  Kael nodded. "Then let's make sure it does."

  Ayla stormed into the command room where Kiran and a small group of Feelers were debating their next move. The tension in the room was palpable, the weight of the missing team pressing on everyone's shoulders.

  "We have a plan," Ayla announced, cutting through the murmurs.

  Kiran looked up, his brow furrowing. "We?"

  "Kael knows the freight terminal," Ayla said, her voice firm. "He's worked those routes. He knows their patterns, their protocols. If we don't use his intel, we're wasting time we don't have."

  Kiran's expression hardened. "I don't trust him."

  "I trust him," Ayla countered. "And unless you've got a better idea, I suggest we move."

  The room fell silent, all eyes on Kiran. After a long pause, he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Fine. But if he's wrong, or if this is a trap..."

  "It won't be," Ayla interrupted. "We're wasting daylight. Let's go."