Ashford's voice haunted me more than I wanted to admit.
"If you can't do it, you might as well get lost…"
I clenched my jaw and kept walking. His tone hadn't been loud, but it didn't need to be. It was ice-cold and sharp. Like his eyes—piercing through flesh and soul.
Akio hadn't said anything since we left. Neither had I. But the silence wasn't comfortable—it was stiff. Heavy. Like the streets of Yhurn themselves were holding their breath, waiting to see if we'd make it or not.
We chose to walk. Driving would've made us a target—drones, scouts, random patrols. The risk was too high. So we kept low, slipping through alleyways, our boots pressing softly against gravel and dirt. The sound of the wind brushing past rusted metal was the only thing accompanying our footsteps.
The city was dead. Or maybe it was just sleeping, caught in that fragile space between collapse and hope.
"You okay?" Akio finally asked, his voice cutting gently through the air.
I didn't answer immediately.
Was I okay?
No. Not after what Ashford said. Not after being thrown into this with barely any time to breathe. But more than that—I wasn't okay because of something much older.
I glanced at Akio, then turned my eyes back to the cracked pavement ahead. "Ashford's words were cruel," I said quietly.
He nodded. "Yeah… they were."
"It's like he's forcing us into a suicide mission. Just tossing us in and seeing if we float or drown."
"He probably is," Akio replied. "But sometimes the bravest soldiers are the ones willing to sacrifice themselves… to make a better world."
I stopped walking.
He noticed, halting a few steps ahead, turning back to me.
"You really believe that?" I asked.
"I want to," he said. "Because if I don't… then all of this is pointless."
I stared at him for a moment, then let out a long breath. My hands tightened into fists at my sides.
"I haven't told anyone this," I said. "But when I was a kid, I lived in a small town, not far from here. One day, I overheard something—people whispering about a raid, about VEX Corp moving in."
Akio said nothing, letting me speak.
"I didn't tell my family. I don't know why. I… I thought it was a rumor. Or that someone else would say something. I didn't want to be wrong. I didn't want to cause panic."
The memory surged up again—sharp, cold, unforgiving.
"My parents. My brother. My sister. They all died that night."
I looked away. "They died because I said nothing."
A sharp breeze passed between us. I didn't wipe my eyes. I refused to.
"Soldiers found me the next morning. They pulled me from under broken walls. Asked questions I didn't want to answer. That's when it started. The training. The studying. I wanted to be smart enough to never let something like that happen again."
Akio looked at me, his expression soft, wounded.
"So you were a victim too, huh?" he said gently. "I was a victim myself too."
He winced immediately after. "Damn. That came out wrong—I didn't mean to make it about me—"
"It's okay," I interrupted. "You're not wrong. Maybe that's why we're both here."
We walked on, side by side, the tension between us slowly dissolving into something more human. Something shared.
The target location came into view: a towering industrial structure with metal siding and faded VEX Corp insignia. It looked abandoned from a distance, but I knew better. They always hid in plain sight.
We ducked behind a collapsed wall, watching the building from afar.
Then a soft static buzzed in our ears—Julian's voice crackled to life through the earbuds.
"Move. Now. A drone's changing course toward your sector."
Akio and I immediately shifted positions, sliding into deeper cover behind a rusted vehicle frame.
"After that," Julian continued, his voice calm, focused, "you need to understand the behavior of the guards in the perimeter. Blend in. Do as they do. Move like them. The main objective is in the northwest sector, upstairs. You'll have one shot. Good luck."
The comms went silent again.
I swallowed hard and peeked over the edge of the wall. Guards. Four of them. Two patrolling. Two stationed at a side entrance.
Akio crouched beside me. "How do you want to play this?"
I didn't answer right away. I was still thinking—still remembering.
The mission was just beginning. But for me, it had started years ago. When I stayed silent.
I wouldn't make that mistake again.