Page 71 of Sacrifice

Some of the rescued omegas grab discarded weapons, their hands trembling but determined. Even in their weakened state, the desire to fight, to reclaim a piece of themselves, burns bright.

“Looks like we’ve got reinforcements,” I quip, a half-smile tugging at my lips.

“Let’s just hope they know which end of the gun to point at the bad guys,” Luka responds, but there’s a note of respect in his voice.

We continue our advance, leaving Inari and her Bluestockings to organize the escape of the newly liberated. Our goal is close now; I can feel it thrumming in the air, a siren call that beckons us onward.

“Almost there,” I whisper, more to myself than anyone else.

“Ready when you are, boss,” Luka replies, his gaze never leaving the path ahead.

We finally stand before the nondescript door that leads to Dr. Malik’s office. I can feel the bile rising in my throat. This is it—the epicenter of nightmares. My hand clenches into a fist at the thought of Aisling at this mad doctor’s mercy, her strength being the only thing between her and complete destruction.

“Ready?” I ask Luka, though it’s more of a statement than a question.

“Let’s end this,” he replies, his voice as sharp as the blade gripped in his hand.

With a nod to the Bluestockings agents flanking us, we burst through the door. Dr. Malik’s eyes widen, just for a moment, but there’s no time for fear on his face—only shock as we surround him.

“Hello, Doctor,” Luka sneers, voice dripping with venom. “Remember me?”

“Guards!” he shouts, but it’s too late.

There’s no one coming to save him.

The heavy thud of the door swinging shut behind us is like the final note of a death knell. Luka steps forward, and I see something dark and raw flicker across his features. This is deeply personal for him, a chance to reclaim a piece of his soul that was torn away in a lab similar to this one.

“Any last words?” Luka asks, almost conversationally.

Malik stammers, a pathetic string of excuses and pleas. But we’re beyond words now. We didn’t come here for dialogue; we came for retribution.

“Goodbye, Dr. Malik,” Luka says quietly, and then he strikes.

It’s over in an instant—the kind of swift justice that only comes from years of pain and the burning need to make things right. Malik crumples to the floor, and with him falls the weight of so many tortured souls.

“Let’s get out of here,” I say, my voice steady despite the adrenaline roaring through my veins. As we turn to leave, I glance back at Malik’s lifeless body.

This was for Aisling, for Luka, for all the omegas who never got the chance to fight back.

We leave the office, the door swinging shut with a finality that echoes through the empty corridors. The Bluestockings agents fall in behind us, their movements efficient and silent. There’s no celebration, no victorious cheers; this is merely one dark chapter coming to an end, and we all know it.

As we navigate our way back through the maze of sterile walls, my mind races ahead to what comes next. There’s still so much to do, but for now, I let myself feel the weight of our victory. It’s a heavy thing, marked by years of suffering and loss, yet there’s lightness too—the promise of a future where omegas like Aisling can wield their power without fear.

“Will she be happy now? About…about this.” Luka asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He doesn’t have to say her name; we both know he’s talking about Aisling.

I nod, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, she will. And she’ll be proud of you.”

He nods, the ghost of a smile flickering on his lips before vanishing as quickly as it appeared. We don’t speak again as we make our way out of the lab, each lost in our own thoughts.

I check my watch, counting the seconds. Each tick is a heartbeat closer to erasing this hellhole from the map. All over the facility, our makeshift army moves with practiced efficiency—Oberon wiring explosives, Luka double-checking every charge. Even Vance pitches in, his hands steady, though I catch the flicker of something dark in those bright blue eyes.

“Three minutes,” Rook announces, voice a calm command over the comms. It’s been drilled into us—the countdown is sacred. We have one shot at this, and there’s no room for error.

“Let’s move out,” I say, my gaze sweeping over the desolate lab one last time. The air reeks of chemicals and fear, but soon it’ll be nothing more than ash and memories.

And Vance…this will be his tomb, as far as the rest of the world is concerned.

We weave through the labyrinth of corridors, our footsteps silent on the cold tile floors. Every cell we pass is empty now, the omegas and alphas we’ve freed already heading towards a new life. But their ghosts linger, haunting the shadows with whispers of pain and desperation.

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