I don’t even know who’s more shocked—him, staring at me in horror, or me, stunned by what I’ve just done.
I’ve taken a life.
I, who swore to protect them all.
I don’t even know how I managed it. The knife slid right through—no bones in the way, just soft, vulnerable flesh.
Anatoli’s knees give out first.
He clutches the handle sticking out of his chest, unsure whether to pull it out or leave it. He won’t last long, I think.
Probably just a few minutes—his coronary artery’s most likely torn.
Serge rushes to his side, helping him lie down while whispering false promises of healing. I don’t waste time.
I sprint to the cages and unlock them all at once.
Grabbing Pallas, I turn to Salome.
“Come on! We’ve got to go!” I urge her.
But she just stares at the bloody scene, shaking her head and whimpering in fear.
I meet the eyes of the other prisoners, but none of them seem ready to take a chance and run with me.
Didn’t they hear what fate awaits them?
Fine. Their choice.
I dash for the woods and for freedom… alone.
23-Prax
I’m almost there. As soon as the first housing units come into view, I stick close to the tree line to avoid being seen. Based on the intel I gathered before leaving, the administrative center is that massive complex about a hundred yards ahead. It’s even larger than the one in Cydonia.
I sneak around the back and focus on analyzing every scent. I can faintly pick up my mate’s soft fragrance, but there are other people too. There’s a definite trace of blood, but thank the stars, none of it is Neela’s.
I thoroughly inspect the rear façade of the building and find a bunch of footprints. What grabs my attention are the tire marks—big ones, from a heavy-duty off-road vehicle that left fresh tracks in the muddy ground. They must’ve loaded something—or someone—from the back and drove off toward the restricted zones.
Whatever their shady business is, I don’t care. My priority is to find Neela. I have to get inside that compound.
I stash my bag behind a rock and arm myself with both my pistoblasters. I resist the urge to switch them to kill mode and instead set them to wide-field stun.
I head back to the rear entrance and trigger the dematerialization system to slip into the decision-making lair of Arabia Terra.
I slide in quietly. First hurdle crossed. Now comes the hard part—finding Neela in this maze of identical rooms. This room smells like a whole pack of people, including my mate, some canines, and others I don’t know. Unfortunately, it’s empty.
The next one, though, isn’t. Two men are chatting casually inside. I creep in and take the first out with a precise strike to the neck, then stun the second before he can make a sound. A quick scan of the room tells me nothing useful. No clue where they took her.
Then I find myself in a dimly lit corridor. I move carefully, ears perked, nose twitching for any scent that could guide me. Where the hell did they stash their prisoners?
At each intersection, I peek around the corner and press on, dropping anyone I come across with clean stun shots. I can’t linger—once the stun wears off, the alarm will spread. Still, no trace of Neela.
Suddenly, I catch the iron tang of human blood wafting from the far end of the hallway. I pick up speed and enter what looks like an incineration room. A human is shoving a body into the furnace. I stop him cold and grab him by the throat, squeezing just enough to cut off some of his airflow. He claws at my hands, but he’s no match for me.
“Keep struggling and I’ll extend the claws,” I growl.
He freezes immediately, eyes wide with panic.
