Outside, shouts rose sharp and panicked, boots slamming against stone.
Her gut twisted. She’d barely returned to life, barely had time to feel Christian’s arms around her, and now the Systems were here, threatening to rip it all away again.
The flap to their tent snapped open. Hawk’s face was streaked with sweat. “Get Gemma out of here. Now.”
Christian’s grip was firm, his voice edged with panic. “Stay with me. Whatever happens, don’t leave my side.”
Her pulse surged. She planted her hand on his chest, forcing him to look at her. “No, I’m not running. Not this time.”
“Gem—”
“I know what I am now. This is what I was reborn to do.” Violet light shimmered along the lines etched into her skin. “I won’t let the Systems tear through this camp while I hide behind you. Not when I can protect them.”
Outside, a blast shook the basin. Metal shrieked as voices rose in alarm.
Christian’s jaw clenched, his eyes burning with fear and pride all at once. “If you stay—”
“I stay until they’re safe.” She nodded toward the flap, toward the frightened cries rising from the camp. “We buy them time to evacuate, then we go. Together.”
Imara’s voice barked from outside their tent. “Move your asses. We don’t have time for debate!”
Christian closed his eyes for the briefest moment, like he wanted to argue. But when he opened his eyes again, he pressed a rough kiss to her forehead. “All right. But if you fall, I fall with you.”
Gemma’s lips curved into the faintest, fiercest smile. “Then let’s make sure neither of us does.”
They emerged into organized chaos. Fighters grabbed weapons and donned gear. Polly hauled her medbag over her shoulder like she’d rehearsed this one hundred times. Some Dissenters herded groups toward what looked like an overflow pipe’s hatch, their voices clipped and sharp. Others ran to the command tent where stacks of maps and records had been stored. The tables were set on fire. The flames scaled quickly, smoke curling toward the ceiling.
Electronics were smashed. Supplies were flung into backsacks. And Nadine stood at the center of Tent City, a blaze of calm command in the storm.
Her voice carried, loud and controlled. “Shut it down! Every trace of our work burns. If you’re not on a combat team, move through the pipe in groups of six. Don’t stop once you’re inside, and don’t look back!”
People obeyed, their boots slamming against stone as they shouldered backsacks and rifles. The first groups vanished into the pipe, their footfalls echoing hollowly as they scrambled down the slick interior.
Gemma ran to her sister. “What can I do?”
“Get the fuck out of here.” Nadine pointed to where Polly led the next group into the pipe.
“Not happening. Now, how can you use me?”
Nadine’s jaw flexed. “Fine. Buy me time.”
Gemma’s tattoos flared. “Done.”
Nadine nodded to where other fighters congregated near the mouth of the pipe. They were armed to the teeth and wore painted-brown basaltweave vests over their clothes, the orange symbol of the Dissent blazing from the center—the letter “d” in old American sign language.
Christian grabbed Gemma’s arm. “Let’s go.”
They sprinted to where soldiers stood and donned their own vests. Christian fixed Gemma with a rifle, handgun, and dual blades just in case. Then he planted himself at the front line beside Hawk and Imara, their shoulders nearly touching.
“You good?” Hawk asked Gemma.
She nodded and replied, “better than ever,” before taking position behind all the fighters, drawing power into her veins.
Gemma flexed her hands, and violet light sparked into existence, her luminous tattoos spreading up through her chest and into her face like liquid fire.
Nadine strode toward them, her expression fierce. For one heartbeat, her eyes softened at Gemma, but then her tone was all revarium steel. “Hold the line. Don’t let a single Systems bastard even get near that pipe.” She threw on her own vest and strapped herself with as many weapons as she could carry.
Karma zipped out from beside Imara’s leg, sweeping Tent City—
