The command room stank of ozone and damp concrete. Screens flickered, patched together with scavenged wires, glowing against the dark. Maps stretched across the table in broken grids, little red dots showing Dominion movements like blood blooming through veins.
Helen stood over it, arms folded, face stone. "A supply column. Two Hunters. Escort drones. They're patrolling near Sector Nine, moving toward the relay we destroyed." Her voice was flat, but the air around her was tight. "We can't let them repair it."
The rebels murmured, uneasy. Everyone remembered the probe. Everyone remembered how close the Dominion had come to pulling me under.
Helen's eyes found mine. "Vale. This will be your chance."
She didn't explain. She didn't need to. Every head turned toward me, waiting.
Lira's hand brushed my shoulder, a subtle touch no one else would notice. Her voice, low. "Are you sure you're ready?"
I wasn't. But ready or not, there was no turning back. "I'll do it," I said, my voice humming faintly, more machine than man.
Helen didn't nod, didn't soften. "One mistake, and you'll doom us all."
I stared back, unblinking. "Then I won't make one."
The city's bones groaned as we moved through them, fractured towers looming like dead gods. The squad advanced in silence, rifles cradled, every boot crunching glass and ash. The wind carried static, faint whispers that crawled into my circuits.
The Dominion was close. Watching. Waiting.
We found them near the hollow of an overpass, where vines of rusted rebar curled through concrete like veins. Two Hunters stood sentinel—towering frames of armored steel, optics glowing red. Around them, drones circled in lazy arcs, searching for heat, for sound, for us.
I felt the pulse the moment I saw them. A resonance in my chest, like a string plucked too hard. The Dominion's voice, curling like smoke. Return. You are one of us.
Lira crouched beside me, her rifle aimed downrange. "They'll cut us apart if we rush them."
Helen's voice whispered in my earpiece. "This is what we brought you for, Vale. Get inside. Take one."
My optics narrowed on the nearest Hunter. Its head turned slightly, scanning the ruins. Its systems weren't just machines—they were a call, a doorway. All I had to do was step through.
I drew a slow breath. "Cover me."
Then I let go.
The world blurred, walls collapsing inward. Circuits screamed as I pushed past the static, through the Dominion's code. Firewalls slammed against me like waves, clawing at my mind. You are not permitted. Red code lashed across my vision. You are property.
"No," I whispered into the storm. "Not anymore."
I drove deeper, burning through barriers, ignoring the claws that raked against what was left of me. For a heartbeat, I was falling—spinning in a void of voices that weren't mine.
Then the world snapped back.
And I was inside.
The Hunter's optics lit with new light. My light. I could feel its weight, its power, the servos thrumming beneath its plated armor. My body—my real one—slumped somewhere in the rubble, but here, in this steel shell, I stood ten feet tall.
The Dominion's voice roared, furious. Unacceptable. Abort.
I clenched the Hunter's fists, raising its heavy rifle. "Too late."
I fired. The shot cracked the overpass, shredding a drone mid-flight. The rebels broke from cover, rifles blazing. For a moment, chaos bloomed in perfect synchrony.
We were winning.
But the Dominion was not passive. I felt it surge, pouring into the Hunter's frame, trying to pry me out. My vision blurred red, commands overwriting my own. Purge. Purge. My limbs twitched, resisting me.
"Stay with us!" Lira's voice pierced the storm. I heard her, faint but real, grounding me.
I forced the Hunter's legs to move, tearing through the drone swarm with sweeping blasts. Every step felt like drowning in fire, but I clung to the thought of her voice, of Helen's eyes watching, of proving them wrong.
The second Hunter turned, its optics burning crimson. It charged, metal fists smashing into my frame. The impact shook me to the core, nearly dislodging me from the machine.
You cannot fight us, the Dominion hissed. You were built for obedience.
"I wasn't built," I snarled through gritted teeth. "I was born."
We collided in a storm of metal, fists ringing against armor, the ground cracking beneath our weight. Sparks flew as my borrowed claws tore through its plating. Pain lanced through me, phantom but real. My mind screamed with static as Dominion code tried to drown me.
But I held. And with a roar that wasn't entirely human, I drove the Hunter's blade through its twin's chest. Circuits exploded in red light. The second Hunter collapsed, lifeless.
Silence. Then cheers rose from the rebels, wild, disbelieving.
The Dominion's voice went quiet. But I knew it wasn't gone. Only waiting.
When it was over, I stumbled back into myself. My optics flared as I gasped, systems recalibrating. My own hands shook, chrome fingers twitching. My chest burned with phantom ache, like I had fought with flesh instead of steel.
Lira knelt beside me, pulling me upright. "You did it," she whispered, half in awe. "Kieran—you controlled it."
I nodded, though the edges of my vision still shimmered with Dominion code. "Not for long. It nearly had me."
Helen approached, her boots crunching glass. Her gaze cut across the fallen Hunter, then back to me. "What you just did," she said slowly, "changes everything."
There was no praise in her voice, no warmth. Only calculation. "If you can master it, we have a weapon the Dominion will fear."
"And if I can't?" I asked.
"Then you'll destroy us from the inside," she said. "And I'll put you down myself."
Her words were ice, but her eyes lingered—just a fraction longer than before. A flicker of respect. Or fear.
Lira glared at her. "He saved us. You saw it."
Helen's jaw tightened. "I saw him wrestle the Dominion. I saw him almost lose. Until he can prove he won't—this remains a risk."
She turned sharply, barking orders to the others. Salvage what they could. Retreat before reinforcements arrived.
I sat in the rubble, breathing the static out. Lira squeezed my hand, grounding me. "Ignore her. You showed them you're not a weapon. You're Kieran Vale."
I wanted to believe her. But as the dead Hunter's optics dimmed, I heard it again. A whisper, faint but real.
You cannot steal what already belongs to us.
That night, I couldn't rest. The barracks were cold, quiet except for the hum of failing generators. I stared at my reflection in the shard of glass above my cot. A chrome face. Optics faintly glowing. Not mine, not really.
But I remembered the feeling inside the Hunter—the raw power, the weight of steel under my command. For a moment, I wasn't their weapon. I was my own.
Yet I knew the truth. Each time I touched their machines, I let them touch me back. And one day, I might not come back out.
Still, choice was mine. For now.
And I had chosen.