The fluorescent hum of the dorm lights buzzed like a swarm of angry bees, casting long shadows across the scattered pizza boxes and crumpled napkins. Alex Thorne slumped against his bunk, the taste of cold cheese still clinging to his tongue, a remnant of their makeshift victory feast. The squad had laughed off the docks debacle—Jax with his booming retellings of "salsa swimming," Mia tweaking her drone like a mad inventor coaxing life from scrap metal, and Lila... God, Lila, with that half-smile that could cut through fog thicker than the one they'd waded through. But Alex's mind was a storm, churning with secrets that threatened to spill over like the soda Jax had knocked onto the floor.
He stared at the ceiling, where a crack spiderwebbed like the fractures in his resolve. The neural implant throbbed faintly behind his eyes, a silent intruder that had turned his brain into a gateway to infinity—and a cage. No one knew. Not the squad, not Grimshaw, not even Zoltan, who'd vanished into the academy's underbelly like smoke. And now, the glowing text hovered in his vision, uninvited, insistent:
SYSTEM PROMPT: Mission Unlocked! Objective: Hack Grimshaw's tablet for Vortex intel. Reward: Unlock 'Disguise Mastery' skill. Failure: 'Karaoke Champion.' Tip: His office, now. Don't get caught, songbird.
Alex's pulse quickened, a drumbeat echoing the distant thunder outside. Karaoke? The system had a twisted sense of humor, but the threat landed like a punch. He could already imagine belting out off-key ballads in the middle of a mission, his cover blown in a haze of embarrassment. But hacking Grimshaw? The man was a fortress, his office a vault of paranoia wrapped in steel and suspicion. Still, the reward—Disguise Mastery—whispered promises of blending into shadows, of fooling even Lila's piercing gaze.
He glanced at his teammates. Jax was sprawled on the floor, snoring like a chainsaw, his massive frame rising and falling with each rumble. Mia tinkered absently with a circuit board, her neon hair catching the light like a beacon in the dim room. And Lila sat cross-legged on her bunk, her sniper rifle dismantled before her, pieces gleaming as she cleaned them with rhythmic precision. Her dark eyes flicked up, meeting his for a heartbeat too long.
"You gonna stare all night, Thorne, or spill what's eating you?" Her voice was soft, edged with that dry wit that made his chest tighten.
Alex forced a grin, the kind that felt like stretching rubber over cracked glass. "Just replaying the docks. You know, my epic mermaid routine."
She chuckled, low and genuine, and for a moment, the room felt warmer. "It was... creative. But seriously, you've been off since the market. Like you're carrying the weight of the world in that backpack of yours."
His hand twitched toward the pocket where the drive had been—now gone, whisked away by that anonymous drone. The system's games were pulling him apart, thread by thread. "Nah, I'm good. Just need some air."
He slipped out before she could press, the academy's halls swallowing him in cool silence. Eclipse was a labyrinth at night, its corridors twisting like secrets unspoken, holographic maps flickering on walls like ghosts of missions past. Alex's footsteps echoed softly, his mind racing ahead. The implant hummed, feeding him Advanced Hacking Protocols from some underground forum, lines of code scrolling in his vision like digital rain.
Grimshaw's office loomed at the end of the admin wing, a door reinforced with biometric locks and silent alarms. Alex's heart hammered as he approached, the system prompting: Scan the lock. Use the override sequence: 47-19-Alpha.
His fingers danced over the panel, guided by invisible strings. The door hissed open, and he slipped inside, the air thick with the scent of old coffee and polished leather. Grimshaw's tablet sat on the desk, a sleek slab of black glass humming faintly. Alex's implant interfaced seamlessly, pulling Tablet Rootkit Exploit from a dark web archive. Code flowed from his mind to the device, bypassing firewalls like water through cracks.
Files bloomed in his vision: mission logs, student evals, and then—jackpot. A folder labeled "Vortex Protocol." He dove in, heart in his throat. Vortex—Victor Voss—wasn't just a rogue; he was Eclipse's dirty secret. Funded experiments, neural enhancements gone wrong, Zoltan's name scrawled across redacted reports like a curse. And a chilling line: Subject A. Thorne: Potential successor. Monitor closely.
Alex froze, the words searing into him. Successor? To Vortex? His parents' legacy suddenly felt like chains, the implant a poisoned gift. Was he just a pawn in some twisted game, engineered to outshine the monster they'd created?
A floorboard creaked outside. Alex's implant flared with Combat Reflexes, the docks reward kicking in. He ducked behind the desk as the door edged open. Grimshaw? No—Lila, her silhouette sharp against the hall light, rifle slung over her shoulder like an old friend.
"Thorne?" she whispered, stepping in. "I knew you were up to something."
Panic surged, but the system whispered: Distraction mode. Download 'Quick Excuses.'
"I... uh, lost my ID badge?" Alex stammered, rising slowly. Lame, but his voice held steady.
Lila's eyes narrowed, but a flicker of amusement crossed her face. "In Grimshaw's office? Try again."
He stepped closer, the air between them charged like a live wire. "Okay, truth: I needed to check something. About Vortex. It's... personal."
She tilted her head, studying him. "Personal how?"
The system pinged: Mission complete. 'Disguise Mastery' unlocked. New Prompt: Plant a bug in Lila's rifle for squad surveillance. Reward: 'Evasion Expert.' Failure: 'Public Speaking Phobia.'
Alex ignored it, his real voice breaking through. "My parents... they tangled with him before. I think the academy's hiding more than they let on."
Lila's expression softened, just a fraction. "We're a team, Alex. If it's big, we handle it together." She paused, then added with a wry smile, "Even if it means breaking into offices at midnight."
For the first time that night, Alex felt the storm in his head quiet. But as they slipped out together, the system's prompt lingered, a shadow in the corner of his eye. The games were far from over, and the lines between ally and enemy were blurring faster than he could hack.
Back in the dorm, as dawn crept through the windows, Alex lay awake, the weight of secrets pressing down. Tomorrow brought another mission, another henchman in Vortex's web. But tonight, with Lila's words echoing, he wondered if trust could outrun the code in his skull.