SURGE

The troops moved as one, a living tide of steel and fire surging up the ruined avenue.

400 meters... 350 meters...

The distance vanished beneath their boots.

300...

Adrenaline burned through Will as he fired in controlled bursts. The recoil bit into his armored shoulder as the convoy loomed larger through the smoke. The sudden ferocity of their assault caught the grey-uniformed Revenants off guard, but a heartbeat later they steadied, sending round after round back, filling the street with lead.

The torrent of bullets hammered Will's shield, sparks ricocheting in blinding flares. The thin plates flared white under the impact, fractures spiderwebbing across their surface before the bottom half of the shield gave way.

Will, ready for the shield's failure, flared his field in a wide arc and dove behind a rusted pickup truck, slamming hard into its side. Becca and Remy followed, sliding into cover beside him.

Rounds tore through the truck's flimsy aluminum panels, punching ragged holes through the flatbed. Each impact rang like a hammer blow, but it broke the enemy's line of sight long enough for them to regroup.

"On my count!" Will shouted over the din.

Remy and Becca readied their rifles. As soon as Will reached three, they swung out of cover and opened fire in unison.

Bullets screamed downrange, cutting through the Revenant line. Several grey-clad Revenants fell, their bodies jerking like puppets with severed strings.

The rest of the convoy guards returned fire, but it sparked harmlessly off Will's reformed field.

"That's it! Keep the pressure on!" Remy yelled.

Will waved the next squad forward. The troopers surged past, moving under covering fire; one step closer to the convoy and whatever waited inside

Enemy fire shifted, converging on Will's position in a storm of lead.

Bullets riddled the truck, punching holes clean through its frame. The tires burst with a violent hiss, and the pickup sank onto its rims with a metallic groan, smoke curling from the shredded rubber.

Subsequent rounds tore through what little cover remained, slamming into Will with brutal force. His field flickered with each impact, drawing more energy from its thinning veil. Red warning lights flared across his HUD as his armor's integrity dropped.

Through the haze, Will spotted a Revenant unclasping a grenade from his belt.

"Push forward! Go, go, go!" he shouted, vaulting from cover just as the grenade arced toward him.

Power surged through his channels as his mech roared to life, servos screaming as he broke into a sprint. Bullets rained down in molten streaks, but none found their mark. He zigzagged through the open street, field distortion bending the air around him. Every step burned; every pulse of energy drained his reserves, yet he pushed faster.

The grenade traced a perfect arc through the air. Will tracked it, the seconds stretching thin as wire. Just as it neared him, he drew the raging psionic energy within and unleashed it in a single pulse.

A wave of psionic force burst from him, slamming into the grenade mid-flight.

BOOM!

The explosion bloomed midair in a blinding flash and deafening thunder. Shrapnel fanned outward, tearing through the dust cloud where Will had been moments before.

His HUD flared white from the flash, vision drowned in static, but his momentum carried him onward. He dove behind the crumbled shell of a building just as the Revenants regained their bearings, the aftershock echoing like rolling thunder.

"You good, Will?" Remy panted, sliding in beside him.

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"Yeah," Will said, catching his breath. His pulse still hammered against his chestplate.

Becca ejected a spent mag, slapped in a fresh one, and peered around the corner. "We're still too far from the convoy," she said grimly.

"And the closer we get, the thicker the fire," Remy muttered, ducking as a round clipped the wall above his head.

"Can we ride this out?" Becca asked. "Maybe they'll burn through their ammo before we do."

Will shook his head. "No chance. We'll run dry first. Those haulers aren't empty; they've probably got enough ordnance to fight a damn war. And as for the warheads..."

He adjusted his rifle, voice hard. "The ambush was supposed to be lightning-fast. Grab the warhead and get out. But now..."

"I bet they're arming the nukes as we speak," Remy said darkly.

Will's jaw tightened. His grip on the rifle creaked. Without another word, he swung out and fired a burst downrange. The rounds cracked through the haze, cutting across the street.

Return fire slammed into the building's façade, shredding brick and plastcrete. Fragments rained over them in a sharp hiss. Will ducked back, teeth gritted, and opened his comms.

"Alpha Lead, we're pinned down here!"

"Copy that," came the curt reply. "Cover fire inbound."

Seconds later, the street to their left erupted in gunfire. Tracer rounds streaked through the air, tearing into the convoy's flank. The Revenants broke formation, diving for cover as several went down in sprays of blood.

"Come on!" Will roared, surging to his feet.

The trio charged into the open, shields raised, pushing forward through the rain of fire as the street burned around them.

Their tattered shields offered barely enough cover. Rounds clattered against cracked plates, sparks flaring with each impact, but the suppressive fire from the other squads worked. Most Revenant gunners were pinned, their volleys erratic.

Will vaulted over a burning car, smoke and heat washing over him. The air stank of scorched rubber and ionized metal. Debris littered the street—shattered armor, broken mechs, pools of oil reflecting firelight. His heart raced as fast as his stride. They had to reach the convoy before the Revenants triggered something catastrophic.

Will pushed himself and his mech to the limit. Power coursed through him in a surging torrent, every nerve and muscle crackling with psionic energy. He poured everything into the mech; the world sharpened. Multiple targets lit across his HUD; his eyes flicked between them, tracking every rifle that dared turn his way.

Gunfire streaked through the air, but he was already moving—sidestepping, pivoting, ducking before barrels even swung toward him. He no longer thought; he flowed. There was no line between thought and action.

The endless drills Damian had put him through paid off. A detached part of him saw it all—the trance he'd slipped into, the way his field moved like quicksilver: smoother, denser, more focused. His connection to his reserves deepened, strengthening by the second.

Even the veil blocking his double sight was thinning. He saw both worlds: real and shadow. The two converged before him, revealing the Revenants' flickering forms in the shadow realm. Through the half-sight, he saw their positions, their firing arcs, and their stiff, unnatural movements.

They were hollow marionettes, puppeted by jet-black strings, pulled by some unseen hand.

The strings converged somewhere beyond the convoy, woven into a vast, writhing web hanging over the battlefield like a storm cloud.

Somewhere within that web, hidden and watching, was the Bishop.

Will raised his rifle and sent a burst into the smoke. "Where are you?" he muttered, eyes locked on the shifting shadows.

A strange shimmer appeared above the convoy, a distortion masking something deeper. Will strained to pierce it with his double sight, but the veil writhed and blurred, resisting him.

Then he saw it—a puppet at the edge of his vision jerked. Its gaze flicked toward him for an instant before resuming its motion.

A chill washed over him.

It wasn't just one puppet. All of them were stealing glances. They had been watching him the whole time.

Cold dread slid down his spine.

They knew.

A grenade whistled past and exploded in a searing blast of fire. The shockwave knocked him off balance as he and the others dove aside. Shrapnel screamed through the air; the road behind them cratered and tore open. Black smoke billowed upward, oily and thick, flames licking at their armored feet.

Will gritted his teeth. They knew he was here. The moment he was within range of their web, the Bishop had found him. His attempts to cloak his field had been futile. The spider had already marked him.

He was the reason the ambush failed.

It was he who had given away their position.

"Will! What's wrong?!" Remy shouted, scrambling up.

"I…" Will began, glancing behind him. Through the smoke, he spotted the mouth of the tunnel where they'd launched the ambush.

A crater gaped in the asphalt next to the breach; too deep and precise for a grenade.

What the hell were they attacked with? What was the explosion that started this whole affair?

Will stared at the fire burning at the crater's rim and came to a horrified realization.

"No…"

A harsh buzz ripped through his comms before he could finish. Static drowned most of the transmission, but fragments of panicked chatter broke through.

"—comms interference lifted. Fab team reporting—repeat, movement inside the fabrication plant—"

The fragments overlapped, voices rising in alarm until Faris's command cut through the chaos, booming over the channel.

"Hostile inbound! All units, get to cover! Get to cover, now!"

Will was moving before the order finished. Power flooded his limbs, servos shrieking as he lunged for the nearest building. He grabbed Remy mid-sprint, hauling him along. Becca was right behind as the trio dove behind a crumbling wall.

Will slammed his cracked shield into the ground, bracing it behind them, urging Remy and Becca to do the same.

"What's happening?!" Remy shouted.

"Will…" Becca began, uncertain, but was cut short.

"Incoming!"

A blinding flash flared behind them. The air turned white, searing their HUDs as three bright streaks raced toward them with the sound of rolling thunder.

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