The first light of dawn barely pierced the ashen sky when Jack stood alongside Lena and a squad of six grim-faced warriors from the Outpost of Forgotten Names. The air was heavy with anticipation, the kind that settled before a storm. Captain Mara stood before them, pointing to a crude map drawn on a metallic sheet.
> "The Citadel Relay is two clicks east. They built it over an old transmission tower, reinforced it with steel and their own tech. We've mapped two main entries: the front gate — guaranteed to be a meat grinder — and a maintenance tunnel beneath, partially collapsed but passable."
She stabbed the map with her knife.
> "Our objective isn't just data. Last week, one of our scouts reported... movements. The Citadel isn't just guarding the relay; they're conducting experiments. We don't know what, but our people go missing in this region, and that's not a coincidence."
Jack's jaw tightened. He already knew what that meant. If the Citadel was experimenting here, it was on Hosts — people like him. Or worse, attempts to create something beyond.
> "We'll take the maintenance tunnel," Jack declared.
"I'll go in first."
Mara raised an eyebrow.
> "And why would we let you take point?"
Jack's eyes flickered crimson for a brief moment.
> "Because if there are Mist-Touched or worse inside, I'll feel them before you do."
There was a pause — then Mara nodded.
> "Fair. But if you turn on us, Echo or not, I'll blow a hole through your skull."
> "Noted."
They moved out, the squad ghosting across the wasteland with practiced efficiency. The wind picked up, swirling mist and dust across the landscape like phantom waves. In the distance, the Relay rose like a crooked spear, a mishmash of old-world steel and newer, sinister constructions of the Citadel — dark alloys that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.
As they approached, Jack's skin prickled. The Echo inside him stirred, whispering:
> "They're here. Twisted... imperfect echoes. Failures."
Jack signaled the team to halt near a fractured pipe that sloped underground — the maintenance tunnel entrance. It smelled of rust, oil, and something more pungent... decay.
> "Tunnel's open," he whispered. "We go silent from here."
One by one, they slipped into the dark. The tunnel was cramped, forcing them to move in single file, weapons raised. Jack led the way, his eyes adjusting quickly, the faint red glow beneath his skin giving him an unnatural clarity in the gloom.
The deeper they descended, the more the air changed — heavier, thicker, like breathing through wet cloth. The walls were stained, not just with rust but with black growths — fungal blooms pulsing faintly with sickly green light.
> "The Mist is active here," Jack muttered. "Stay sharp."
They reached a service door, its locking mechanism half-melted by age or sabotage. Jack placed his hand against it. He didn't know how, but the Echo responded — the metal shivered under his touch, the mechanisms groaning before the door creaked open just enough to slip through.
Beyond lay a maintenance sector, dimly lit by flickering emergency lights. The air hummed with low-frequency vibrations — machinery still alive, still working. And then Jack heard it.
> Screaming. Muffled.
He raised a hand, signaling the team to halt. The screams were distant, layered — not just one person, but many, their cries overlapping in waves of agony.
They crept forward, weaving through old pipes and debris, until they reached a viewing platform overlooking a massive chamber below.
Jack's gut clenched.
Rows of containment pods stood in perfect lines, each one occupied by a human body — men, women, even teenagers — their skin pale, their veins blackened, their eyes darting beneath closed lids. Cables ran from their spines into machines pulsing with Mist energy.
> "What... what the hell is this?" Lena whispered, horrified.
Captain Mara swore under her breath.
> "They're making soldiers," Jack growled. "Or trying to."
Then a voice echoed across the chamber, cold and clinical.
> "Test Group Forty-Seven. Progress acceptable. Seventeen percent survival. Commencing Mist Saturation."
A figure emerged from the far side — a Citadel scientist in sleek gray armor, flanked by guards clad in matte-black exosuits. The scientist raised a hand, and a machine whirred to life — Mist flooded the pods, thicker, darker.
Some of the subjects spasmed violently. Others screamed, their bodies convulsing as the Mist invaded every cell. Jack watched in horror as a few of them began to change — their bones cracking, elongating, skin stretching unnaturally. Some survived the transformation, emerging as grotesque versions of humans, eyes glowing amber — unstable, barely sentient.
But most... simply died, their bodies imploding into pools of black sludge.
Lena covered her mouth, trying not to retch.
> "They're... turning them into Mist-Touched," she choked.
> "No," Jack whispered.
"They're trying to make Hosts. Like me."
The scientist continued his work, unfazed by the deaths.
> "Extract the viable subjects. Terminate the rest."
Guards moved in with flamethrowers, incinerating the failed bodies without ceremony.
Jack felt rage boiling inside him. The Echo throbbed, its voice urgent.
> "Stop them. They're defiling us — our legacy."
He gripped the railing, breathing hard.
> "We need to destroy this place," Jack hissed.
Captain Mara looked at him, then at her team.
> "We didn't come prepared for a full assault."
> "Then we improvise," Jack said, standing. His eyes burned brighter now.
> "I'll distract them. Hit them hard. While I keep their attention, plant charges, wreck everything you can."
Mara stared for a moment, then nodded.
> "You've got guts, Echo-boy."
Jack smiled darkly.
> "Not guts. Rage."
Without waiting, he leapt from the platform, landing amidst the pods with a crash. The guards turned, weapons raising — but Jack was already moving, his body surging with the Echo's cold strength.
The first guard fired — too slow. Jack caught the rifle mid-air, crushing it with a single hand, then drove his dagger into the man's throat.
The room erupted into chaos.
Lena and the squad descended from above, gunfire raining down on the Citadel troops. Mara barked orders, her people splitting to plant explosives on key generators and data cores.
Jack moved like a storm — blades flashing, fists breaking steel and bone. The Mist inside him responded, enhancing every strike, guiding his reflexes.
The scientist watched with fascination rather than fear.
> "Remarkable," he muttered. "A stable Host."
He signaled something — and from the shadows, a giant Mist-Touched emerged. Towering, mutated, armored in bone-like plates, its face a twisted mockery of a human skull.
It roared, charging Jack with thunderous steps.
Jack didn't flinch.
He met the beast head-on, daggers slicing deep — but the creature was durable, shrugging off blows that would shatter concrete. It slammed Jack against a wall, the impact driving the breath from his lungs.
But the Echo didn't let him fall.
> "Unleash me fully, Jack," it whispered. "And we will crush this thing."
For a heartbeat, he hesitated. Then... he let go.
Power flooded his body — his muscles surged, his eyes burning crimson bright. His bones creaked, strengthened by the alien energy. He grabbed the creature's arm mid-swing, stopping it cold, then drove a blade straight through its chest.
The Mist-Touched howled, but Jack didn't stop — he ripped the blade free, slashing, tearing, until the creature fell in pieces at his feet.
The chamber was a battlefield now — fires blooming, alarms wailing, data servers collapsing.
> "Charges set!" Mara shouted.
"Time to go!"
Jack glanced at the scientist — who was retreating, escorted by surviving guards.
> "Next time," Jack vowed.
He regrouped with Lena and the others, fleeing back through the maintenance tunnel as explosions ripped through the relay. The ground shook, the sky above blooming with smoke and flame.
Once clear, they watched the relay collapse in the distance — a monument to the horrors within, now just rubble.
Jack stood silently, his body still thrumming with residual power.
Lena stepped beside him.
> "You alright?"
Jack nodded slowly.
> "We just burned one of their labs. But it's not over. They're trying to make more of me. More Hosts. If they succeed... this world won't survive it."
> "Then we don't let them."
Jack's eyes gleamed.
> "No. We kill every last one of them''