The morning after the Stalker's death was eerily quiet. The factory should have been buzzing with celebration, but instead, whispers filled the air like gnats. Reid felt their stares as he walked through the narrow corridors—initiates paused in their tasks, voices dropping as soon as his eyes met theirs. He kept moving, head down, knife strapped to his thigh like a secret.
Holt was waiting by the main gate, visor reflecting the dull light. "Veylan," she said, her tone sharper than the morning chill. "Command knows about your… performance yesterday."
Reid stiffened. "What did you tell them?"
"Only that you killed the Stalker," she replied. "They're sending a council delegation to 'evaluate' the situation. Keep yourself clean. Any hint of what you're hiding, and they'll tear you apart." Her visor tilted. "Understand?"
Reid nodded. The Bond stirred with a mocking purr. "See? Even she smells the truth. They all do."
Inside, Mara was cleaning her spear when he approached. She looked up and smiled faintly. "You're still in one piece."
"Barely."
"You should rest," she said, voice soft. "You look like hell."
"Not an option."
Before he could say more, she leaned closer, lowering her voice. "People are talking. Some say you're… different." Her eyes searched his. "Are they wrong?"
Reid hesitated. "I'm still me."
The Bond laughed. "Liar."
Later, as they gathered in the central yard, Holt announced, "Council arrives in two hours. Stay sharp."
The squad formed ranks, but tension rippled through the initiates. A rival squad leader, a broad man named Karven, stepped forward. "You expect us to fight alongside him?" He jabbed a finger at Reid. "I saw him move. That wasn't human."
Mara snapped, "He saved your life in that fight. Or did you forget?"
Karven sneered. "Maybe he's the bigger threat."
System text flickered faintly before Reid's eyes:
[Quest Updated: Maintain Secrecy – Avoid Detection by Command]
[Warning: Hostility Rising]
The Bond whispered with amusement. "Let me silence him. One cut, and no one will question you again." Reid clenched his fists but said nothing.
Two hours later, the council delegation arrived. Four figures in long coats stepped into the yard, their faces shadowed by hoods lined with tech visors. They moved with calculated precision, scanning everything. Holt saluted briefly, then stood aside. One of them, taller than the rest, approached Reid directly. "You were the one who killed the Stalker," he said, voice smooth but cold. "Show me your hands."
Reid complied, hiding the faint tremor. The man's visor hummed softly, scanning. For a heartbeat, Reid felt the Bond pulse under his skin, hot and restless. "It knows," it hissed. The system flashed:
[Warning: Detection Risk – Bond Mask Active]
The man studied him for an uncomfortably long time before stepping back. "We will watch you closely," he said, then turned away.
As they left, Holt shot him a look that said everything. He'd passed—for now.
The Bond chuckled. "You're a walking secret. How long before it spills?"
The delegation didn't linger. They spoke briefly with Holt, exchanged low words with the guards, and then vanished into the fog as suddenly as they had appeared. Their visit left the factory charged with unease. Conversations hushed whenever Reid passed by, eyes darting away but never fully leaving him. It felt like the air itself weighed heavier, pressing down with suspicion.
Mara walked beside him as he left the yard. "They're going to keep watching you," she said. "Be careful what you show."
"I know," he replied, keeping his voice steady. The Bond shifted, its tone almost teasing. "No matter how careful you are, secrets always bleed out."
That evening, Holt called a meeting in the mess hall. The initiates gathered, voices low as she stepped to the front. "Scouts report Exile movements near our borders. They're not attacking—yet—but they're organized in a way they haven't been before. Command wants eyes on them. We'll send a small team to shadow their camp." Her visor turned toward Reid. "You're on it."
Jorik scowled openly. "Of course he is."
Holt's tone left no room for argument. "Mara and Veylan will go. Karven's unit will provide backup if things go bad."
Mara met Reid's eyes and nodded. There was no hesitation, only determination.
They set out before dawn, fog swallowing the world in gray. The ruins gave way to wild terrain—broken hills, skeletal trees, and cracked earth that bled heat from hidden fissures. Birds didn't sing here. The silence was broken only by the crunch of boots and the distant hiss of steam rising from the ground.
The Bond's voice curled through Reid's thoughts. "Exiles. Outcasts who've tasted decay and lived. Perhaps they will see the truth in you." He ignored it, focusing on the faint tracks winding through the hills.
Hours passed before they saw the first signs of an Exile camp. Smoke rose in thin columns against the fog, and shadowed figures moved between makeshift shelters built from scavenged metal and bone. Reid crouched low, watching from a ridge. The Exiles looked like ghosts—scarred bodies wrapped in patchwork armor, eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.
Mara whispered, "They're not attacking anyone. Just… surviving."
"They're still dangerous," Reid replied quietly, though his chest tightened with something that wasn't fear.
The Bond hummed. "They smell the same decay that feeds me. They will know what you carry."
Before they could move, one of the Exiles below turned its head directly toward them. Its gaze locked on Reid, and even from this distance he felt the weight of recognition. The figure raised a hand slowly and spoke a word that carried across the silence: "Marked."
System text pulsed in his vision:
[Bond Influence Surge Detected – Stability Decreasing]
The Exile's cry brought others running. Shapes gathered at the edge of the camp, weapons drawn. Karven's unit, hidden nearby, reacted first, raising rifles. "We're going loud!" Karven barked, but Holt's orders echoed in Reid's memory: observe, not engage.
"Hold fire!" Reid hissed, but the first shot cracked the air. Chaos exploded.
Exiles charged up the slope, voices rising in guttural war cries. Mara moved to cover Reid's flank, spear spinning in her hands. He drew his knife, the Bond screaming for release. "Finally, something worth cutting."
Veil Step ignited under his skin, and the battle began.
The hill erupted into a storm of movement. Exiles surged upward, their weapons a mix of scavenged blades and crude firearms. They moved with uncanny coordination, each step pushing the squad back toward the ridge. Karven's unit opened fire in controlled bursts, but the enemy pressed harder, their glowing eyes fixed on Reid.
Mara spun her spear, knocking an Exile aside before stabbing another through the chest. "There's too many!" she shouted over the chaos.
Reid darted between attackers, knife flashing. The Bond's voice rose with the rhythm of battle. "More, host. Let the power spill. Show them what hunts inside you." His heart pounded as Veil Step blurred his movements, slipping past a blade to cut its wielder down. He clenched his jaw, fighting to keep control.
A towering Exile with bone-plated armor charged him. Reid rolled under the swing of its jagged club and drove his blade deep into its thigh. It roared, but instead of falling, it slammed a fist into his chest, sending him crashing into the dirt. Pain seared through his ribs. The Bond laughed darkly. "You hold back, and it hurts. You know how to stop the pain."
Mara intercepted the next blow meant for him, deflecting it with a burst of desperate strength. "Get up!" she yelled.
He pushed to his feet, vision swimming. System text flashed:
[Stamina Critical – Bond Influence Rising]
Energy burned under his skin. The world sharpened, every motion slowing in his eyes. He surged forward, dodging a barrage of strikes and carving through the Exile's armor seam. Black ichor sprayed as the giant fell. Other Exiles hesitated, their eyes narrowing, almost as if they recognized something in him.
More figures appeared at the ridge's edge—Exiles armed with rifles. Karven cursed and shouted for covering fire. The crack of gunfire filled the air, and the squad scattered for cover. Reid grabbed Mara's arm, pulling her behind a boulder as bullets shredded the dirt.
The Bond whispered with cruel delight. "You can end this now. Tear them apart. Let me show them what they're hunting."
He shut it out and peeked from cover. Karven's men held their line, but the Exiles were closing in fast. Reid's grip tightened on his knife. This wasn't just an ambush; it was a test.
With a deep breath, he leapt from cover, Veil Step tearing through space as he struck at the riflemen. The sudden assault broke their formation, giving the squad breathing room. Mara joined him, cutting down the nearest attackers. Together they pushed back, their movements flowing in deadly rhythm.
The Exiles began to fall back, not routed, but withdrawing with precision. One of them, a scarred figure with glowing tattoos, locked eyes with Reid and spoke a single word before retreating: "Chosen."
The fog thickened as they vanished into the hills, leaving only silence and scattered bodies.
System text burned across his vision:
[Objective Updated: Investigate Exile Intentions]
[Bond Influence: Unstable – Resonance Detected with Exile Leader]
Mara placed a hand on his shoulder. "They weren't just attacking. They were after you."
Karven stormed over, eyes blazing. "You're the reason they came at us like that. You're the problem."
Holt's voice came sharp through the comms. "Enough. Get back to the factory. Debrief when you arrive."
The Bond purred as they began their retreat. "Chosen. Marked. They see what you are becoming, even if you don't."
Reid said nothing, gripping his knife so tightly his knuckles went white.