D E L P H I N I U M
The world was filled with moving and hatred and killing. The only thing staving off my panic was the fact that I had no time to feel it. If I let myself pause, even for a split second, I would be torn apart by a hundred hands. A thousand.
According to General Lawridge, I wasn't even meant to be fighting; I had to save my energy for finding and slaying Orion. But that was before we realized Orion had a weapon that targeted our power. We needed all the soldiers we could get. I would deal with Orion when I got to him.
The fortress. We just had to get there. I knew the place better than my own home—navigating it would barely be an obstacle. Once I was inside, I would make a burning line to Orion and forget anything but my purpose.
As for the others...I had faith in Benton, Kane, Jaxon and Jake. But they were already battered and bleeding, having taken the blows meant for me. For the four of them to be stranded alone in a sea of Imperium soldiers...it could mean death for them. If they couldn't make it back to our own army with the knowledge of Orion's secret weapon and its possibilities...
It could mean death for us all.
There it was: the fortress entrance. It was blocked by a dozen soldiers, but it was finally a realistic endeavor to get inside.
The four boys engaged the soldiers in combat all at once, trying to distract them long enough for me to make a secret entrance.
I was halfway around the group when one of the soldiers yelled and pointed. Several soldiers from the advancing army turned and ran for me. I barely dodged two gunshots, desperation building. The palms under my daggers' hilts were slick with sweat.
The first one fell just a few feet from the toes of my boots. I looked up to see Benton with his gun still raised. He'd bought me enough time to rip through the approaching soldiers. I didn't need my power to do it.
I swung back, only to see the steel gate lowering over the entrance. Those soldiers hadn't wanted solely to kill me then, only keep me occupied long enough to keep me out. They'd given their lives for it.
Jaxon swore ruthlessly under his breath when he saw it a second later. "They're trapping us on this side."
Kane ran to the gate, doing his best to keep the small open space from being blocked. Both Benton and Jaxon went to assist him, as Jake began systematically killing anyone who noticed us and tried to scream for help.
Closing the distance between myself and the gate, I slid under right as my three crew-mates could hold it no longer. The steel gate slammed to the ground, nearly cutting me in two.
I only looked back to my friends once. "May we all get out of this alive."
"Bring Orion to his knees," Jaxon said. "And stab him once for me."
A wry smile on my face, I took one last look at them and began stalking into the place of my nightmares.
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I saw Orion at every turn.
It was just like every other day of my life after I escaped: terror, paranoia, suspicion. This was was it was like to live in my mind. This was the cost of surviving.
However, my days of letting those things rule me were over. I continued deeper into the place in spite of them. I no longer hated myself for feeling those things. If I did, Orion would continue to be victorious over me. Everything he made me into would be pointless if I still believed I was nothing.
But he made me into the Reaper. So I would finally come for his soul.
I was essentially alone in the hallways of the fortress, most of the other soldiers contributing to the war effort outside. A few had turned corners only to run into my blades. The hatred for me was visible in their eyes before they died. I found that I didn't care. After every atrocity I'd committed within these walls, this was one I wouldn't regret.
I was in the center of the fortress now, just passing the massive training rooms. Through the small rectangular window in the first door, I saw its emptiness and gave a grim smile. No more students would train here.
But my face fell when I remembered the live targets we'd practiced on. Tsolvskein used their bodies to teach me how to torture and interrogate. Their lives were instruments to help me learn how to inflict pain and suffering. And though I never directly wished harm on them, in the end, I'd chosen my own life above their own.
The weight of their souls would stay on my shoulders for the rest of my life.
I went higher in the building, climbing countless flights of stairs—the same stairs I used to take down to the armored trucks. From there, I was shipped out to end whoever Orion wanted dead. The entire way down, I would pray that the kill would be smooth, painless and not someone whose face I recognized. But there was always a sense of relief traveling down these stairs, because they took me far from the throne room. Those missions were the only breath of fresh air I got from this metal cage.
This was the first time I ever went to the throne room willingly. And it would be the last time I would ever be there too, for better or worse.
As I ascended on, I knew my family was with me. My victims were with me. I carried them all up those spiraling flights. I needed them as much as they needed me. One way or another, this day would end in death: either the death of their oppressor or me. Or both.
I promised them we would see Orion dead. I promised them their lives wouldn't be ended for nothing. If it meant I died to kill him, I would do it. I didn't want to leave the world, not like I used to. But if the darkness finally claimed me, at least I would see my family again. Perhaps I would get to beg for my victims' forgiveness.
My legs were tired when I finally reached the top, but I didn't stop. This needed to happen for the sake of the world. The sooner Orion was dead, the sooner the enhanced soldiers and leaders stationed in Ukraine—anyone who was still under the power of the Mind Sweeper—would possibly die with him.
I began my march to the throne room, very aware of the seven daggers strapped to my body. They would soon be soaked in Orion's blood. The paranoid part of myself wondered if it would be enough. Even so, I walked with purpose, with steel confidence.
The throne room entrance was guarded by six soldiers, the normal number. I always imagined this moment, and had even debated doing it when I was still enslaved. It was only fitting I would get to do it as a free woman.
They seemed to expect me, all turning at once at the first sense of my presence. Black and gold masks glinted in the overhead lights. It used to frighten me that I wasn't able to see their faces. I was no longer afraid.
The fight was quick, despite their obvious advantage. Blood sprayed as my daggers cut through their bodies like they were nothing. I whirled, stabbing and slashing exactly as Orion had taught me.
Finally, I was the only one standing. With the stench of fresh blood hanging in the air, I threw my braid over my shoulder and threw the doors open.
The first thing I saw was the throne. Empty.
I frowned. His life being connected to his soldier's minds made him too valuable to be anywhere less secure. And surely he would be up here, basking in his glory as his people fought and died for him?
Daggers still gripped in either hand, I tensed.
"I hoped you would be here," said an impossibly deep voice from behind me.
I turned to see the shining iron mask of my looming master.
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