Page 95 of Stars in Umbra
Mo rose and walked quickly from the room, keeping his face expressionless, nodding to a few colleagues, even as his pulse raced.
He slid into an abandoned corridor, and confident he was alone, he staggered, planting one hand against the ferrosteel wall.
His heart thundered. His exhale caught.
‘Nada,’ he hissed under his breath, the word lost in the hum of tactical chatter around him.
Still, the voice in his head didn’t stop.
It repeated itself, flat as metal, dead as space.
Then came the pain, needles made of fire driving through the base of his skull and out through his limbs.
His muscles locked, his jaw seized.
He clamped down on the command feed, forcing his mind to claw for control.
:: OVERRIDE MANUAL CODE 88, KILO-NOVA, EXECUTE A NEURAL FIREWALL ::he ordered with grit teeth.
:: DENIED. RESPONSE DEVIATION DETECTED. SYSTEM CORRECTION INITIATED. ::
The countermand failed.
With it came a new wave, data surging into his brain like a flood: combat simulations, movement analytics, limbic suppression, terminate directives. The node wasn’t just commanding him.
It was taking control, hijacking his motor function. Flooding his adrenal cortex. Rerouting blood flow to the arms and core. Preparing him for a kill strike.
:: RESIST AGAIN AND YOU DIE. BRAIN RUPTURE WILL BE INSTANTANEOUS. OBEY. ::
His stomach turned. A thin sheen of sweat broke along his hairline.
They fokkin’ had him.
Whoever embedded this damn thing in him had just pulled the ultimate trigger.
:: QUIT THE HYSTERICS. YOU’VE DONE THIS MANY TIMES BEFORE. ::
For a second, he got a glimpse of past missions, of him, undertaking ruthless kill contracts, and a vision of his battle efficiency.
Fokk. He was a chattel assassin, and now they wanted him to murder the only people who’d ever treated him like a true brother.
His legs moved against his will, his body lurching forward as if guided by an invisible tether.
He reached for his twin laser firearms before catching himself, fingers twitching and grazing his weapons belt like they weren’t his own. He fought it back with every ounce of willpower he had left.
But the directive didn’t care.
:: ENTER THE SECURE VIP CHAMBER. ELIMINATE THEM ALL. BEGIN THE PURGE. ::
He rounded the last corner and almost collided with two shadows stepping out of the secure room.
Zane and Kainan Sable, his brothers-in-arms.
They stood tall in the corridor, their silhouettes haloed by the glowing lights behind them, data pads in hand, mid-debrief.
Their expressions relaxed at the sight of him.
‘Kaka,’ Kainan growled with a smile, nodding once. ‘How are you holding up?’
