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us but were off the mark. It must have been a show.

“We started searching for the Loyalist Militia after you broke into Xyphotech,” he says. “We didn’t know exactly where your base was, but we knew you’d need food. That’s when we took over and monitored the supermarkets. We had your faces and considered scanning for them, but we knew you’d face-shift, so my clever team went back to the Xyphotech microwave Doppler recordings.”

I squint at him.

“Did you know that heartbeats can be used for biometric detection? It’s like how we scan for eyes or faces, but it’s a Doppler radar image created from the shape of your heart.”

Hell, I didn’t.

“Are you starting to see how much more advanced we are than you?”

I say nothing, not wanting to admit that he played us like fools.

“As far as you go. When we first disabled your bank and other accounts and then captured you, we just wanted to tie up loose ends. Then, miraculously, you escaped. We didn’t even know you were with the Loyalists until Xyphotech. After I watched the recordings from the distribution center and saw you hack a man’s Evo with just a q-link, I knew we had to have you. You’re one of them.”

My stomach crawls at the words and the gravity he puts behind them. “One of what?”

He chuckles. “You’ll see eventually. After that, you became a priority for us so I devised the Gerald swap and made sure you’d go on the rescue mission. How’d you like his mask? Creepy, right?” He waits for a response, but when I say nothing, he continues. “You’re going to regret ever getting involved with this.”

As if I don’t already? “You’re a monster. I loved my foster mother, Barbra. I’m going to escape, and I’m going to flay you alive.”

“What a wonderful spirit you have. But I don’t think you’re going to do anything from up there.”

I deflate. “Why did you do it to her? She didn’t deserve that.”

“That’s beside the point. I think you already know that she had dangerous information. Just a casualty of war.”

I grit my teeth at his nonchalance.

“Well, I have business to attend to, but Captain Bosu will take care of you,” he says, patting the man on the shoulder. “I’ll see you soon, Fae.” The old man waves and walks away.

Captain Bosu sneers up at me. “Have fun hanging there and watching your friends die when they come to rescue you.”

I spit at him.

He steps back, dodging the spit, then waves a finger at me. “I can’t kill you, but I can hurt you. Remember that.” He spins around and leaves me.

I scan the courtyard and count twenty or so armed guards and the two Obliterator suits. The four laser turrets on the buildings are active again but are non-responsive to me. The LR8 Liberator drone that caught me is parked on one of the roofs.

Will the remaining Loyalists be foolish enough to attempt a rescue? I imagine Nav, Alexander, and Sunny, charging in only to be blown to pieces by a missile.

But maybe they’re already dead. I seethe at the thought and remember the last time I was this angry. It’s something I tried to avoid thinking about for years, but now, nothing matters. The Archfiend killed my younger sister, Nyx, and I could do nothing to stop it.

I pull at my bonds again, despite the pain of my broken arms. I tug back and forth, trying to loosen them until I’m out of breath, and the pain threatens to overwhelm me. I slump, breathing heavily. There’s no way I could pull out of them.

I try to think of any way to escape. Maybe I can trick the guards into untying me. Or promise them something? Maybe if I ask for water, I can choke them with my legs and…no. That would get me nowhere.

I can’t think clearly anymore because of my pain, my fatigue, and the loss of my friends. I spit in anger, unable to do anything else. Then I remember that the evil that brought this hell on us still rests around my neck.

If I had the Evo in my brain, I’d tear this camp apart, turning every weapon against them. I’d march on the NIA with a thousand Liberator drones and scorch the agency with missiles until no trace existed.

It’s just fantasy, though. Even if I could stop them from taking over my mind, I’d never install this curse. I’d rather die.

I have no options. The realization stokes the fires of my rage, finally breaking down the walls that held back my anger. I scream like a child down a well until my voice is raw, and I burn myself out.

I’ve always taken care of myself, but now I find myself wishing someone would save me, despite the risks. How many Loyalists are still alive?

Did Alexander die in a blaze of glory as he rained death on all around him, his legend cut short? Is Nav no more, after she shattered skulls and rib cages with her enhanced arm, only to have lasers burn fist-sized holes in her chest? Is Sunny dead, after shocking anyone he could reach, crushed into the ground by tank tracks?

Even if they did somehow survive, they’d be massacred if they tried to save me. If only I could warn them somehow. I’m sorry, everyone.

If I told Americus my concerns, we could have interrogated Gerald, vetted his contacts, and scouted this place. When we discovered their treachery, we could have set an explosive trap at our base and escaped to a secure location. Instead, the Loyalists are destroyed, and I’ll be a puppet.

I want every guard holding me to burn until their flesh sears from their skeletons, and their bones turn to ash and blow away in the wind. I want to

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