The silence in the back of the VTOL felt crushing. Few moments ago, it was all fire and collapsing rock. Now, there was only the powerful sounds of the aircraft's engines as it flew through the clouds.
The team was in a bad shape. They sat on the floor, looking beaten and bruised, but still alive.
Vanessa was resting on the wall, her eyes closed with her face looking tired and dirty with soot. Jonah sat next to her, looking lost in thought as he stared at the clouds from the window, hearing Thorne's last words again and again.
The age of mass production has begun.
Across from them was Seraph, who was working with strong focus. She was helping Draven patch up his wounds, who was slumped against a crate, his chest was covered with burns and bruises. He gritted his teeth, making low sounds in pain as she applied a glowing salve to his wounds.
"Hold still," she said, her voice low.
"I am still," he grunted, though his whole body was trembled with pain.
The VTOL landed on an airstrip of a hidden military airbase. The back ramp lowered with a low sound, revealing two figures standing in the rain. It was General Ironwood and the Headmaster. They were waiting.
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General Ironwood stood at the far end of the room with his big arms crossed. The Headmaster sat at the table, his face looking calm and thoughtful, which was somehow even more unsettling to see.
Jonah, Vanessa, and Seraph stood before them, still in their dirty and torn clothes. Draven was already in the base's infirmary, getting proper medical care.
"Report," Ironwood commanded.
Seraph stepped forward and gave a quick summary of the mission. She described the kill box, Draven's heroic stand, and the escape. Then, she turned to Vanessa.
Vanessa projected a series of images from her datapad. They showed the Gemini, their perfect forms and soulless eyes. "Thorne's creations were a pair of psychically-linked twins," she explained, her voice steady despite her being tired. "Their synergy was flawless. We couldn't out-think them."
"But you beat them," the Headmaster said, his eyes on Jonah.
Jonah looked up, his own eyes tired and haunted. "We didn't beat them with strategy," he said, his voice flat. "I used an emotional feedback loop. Something illogical. That broke their connection."
He took a deep breath. "Then Thorne... he told us his goal. He said this whole battle was just a test. A way to gather data on my power."
He said, The era of the individual creator is over. The age of mass production has begun.
General Ironwood burst out in anger. He hit his fist down on the table with a loud BANG!.
"A disaster!" he yelled, his voice filled with anger. "He has the data. He has the blueprint. And he got away! The primary target escaped! We destroyed a mountain, but we let the real weapon slip through our fingers!"
He began to pace the small room. "The mission objective was to take down the threat. The threat is now smarter, more informed, and completely in the wind. This was a complete failure!"
"Was it, General?" the Headmaster asked, his voice calm in the face of Ironwood's rage. "We destroyed his main facility. We destroyed his prototypes. We have slowed him down."
"Slowed him down?" Ironwood scoffed as he turned to look at him. "He played us for fools! He sacrificed his own fortress just to learn our secrets!" Original content can be found at novel~fire~net
"Yes," the Headmaster agreed. "He did. Which tells us that this is no longer just a hunt for a rogue scientist. It is about stopping an idea."
General Ironwood was about to argue, but Jonah spoke first.
"We didn't win," Jonah said, his eyes locking with the General's. "We can't call this a victory. We didn't slow him down. We gave him exactly what he wanted."
The General's anger seemed to freeze. The room fell into a new, more sobering silence. Jonah's words carried more weight than all of Ironwood's shouting. It was the simple, ugly truth. They had walked into Thorne's trap, and the price of their victory had been the key to their own defeat.
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A few hours later in the base's infirmary.
Draven was lying in a bed. His body was covered in clean white bandages. He looked so tired, but the stubborn fire in his eyes was still there.
Jonah and Vanessa stood by his bedside. They had been given clean clothes and a chance to rest, but sleep would not come.
For a long moment, none of them said anything. They had nothing to say for what they had been through. They had faced death together in that fortress, and it had created a bond between them.
Draven finally broke the silence, his voice a low rumble. "Heard the General threw a fit."
"You could say that," Jonah said with a humorless smile.
"He's a soldier," Draven grunted. "He sees things in terms of wins and losses. He's not wrong. The bad guy got away." He shifted, wincing in pain. "But we're still breathing. That's a win in my book."
He looked at Jonah, his face serious. "That trick you pulled. With the... feelings. That was something else."
"It was a terrible gamble," Jonah admitted.
"Yeah, well," Draven said, with a small smile on his face. "It worked." But as his eyes moved from Jonah to Vanessa, and his smile faded, turning into something serious. He had been a proud, arrogant rival. Now, he was a part of their small family. He was their shield, and they were his team.
He rested against his pillows, his eyes looking at the white ceiling. He carried the weight of a battle he barely survived, and it had burned away the last of his pride, leaving only a loyalty that couldn't be broken.
He let out a slow breath.
"Next time," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Next time, I'm getting the first hit."