For now, there is a med-bay in headquarters. I need to get to it before they find out the Resnyx has been stolen.
If I’m going to die here, I’d like to die with dignity, as the alien I once was and not the sentinel I am becoming.
I jump into the green light. My body dissolves, and for a split second, I feel the odd sensation of floating in space, bodiless and incomplete.
When I reappear, I see them enter the Resnyx extractor. “Shit,” I grunt. They’re already so close.
With a broken leg, I run toward the abandoned headquarters. Despite feeling my bone shift with every step, I continue forward, passing the desolate mines where workers once slaved away in the hopes of fi
nding a mate.
The wind is quiet, and the suns are blazing. There is something off with all of this. The electrified barrier that surrounds the premises has been cut open. I stoop low and enter, slowing my pace.
Footprints are caked in the dirt, petrified by the suns. Something happened here, and I can’t tell if I should be worried or grateful.
As I reach the entrance, I stop. The door hangs, hinges barely holding it in place. The glass is broken, too.
Thin blood splatter creates a trail toward a second hallway.
Okay, this is not what I was expecting.
Still, I can’t give up. I’d rather die on my feet than live on my knees.
When I round the corner, I anticipate carnage. My throat closes as I brace to find Akron’s body, torn apart from the workers we forced him to face.
I step over broken glass and scattered tools.
Using the sentinel mask, I turn on my sight and illuminate the power grid. There are bodies on the other side of a door, alive and crowded in a circle.
I swallow, trembling as I turn the doorknob open.
And then I see him...
It’s Akron. Thank God, he’s still alive.
But the miners have surrounded him. At first, I expect them to rush me, to rip me to shreds because of years of despicable ownership. I was a contractor, and I deserve no ounce of sympathy.
They do not attack.
“Who are you?” one asks.
“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me,” I say.
“A sentinel?” one asks.
“No,” I murmur, revealing my hands to be weaponless. “I killed their leader and took his mask. I don’t come to hurt you.”
“Lies,” one of the workers shouts.
“Please,” I beg. “I am weak, but I came here to bring you news, not to take the Resnyx you have earned.”
Akron looks hurt. His face is covered in red and blue welts, and blood has dried down his neck. He doesn’t seem to recognize me.
“Let the alpha speak,” he says.
The crowd clears.
“Akron, what happened here?” I ask.