Iron Pulse

The relay door exploded outward.

West kicked it open first, pipe raised. Aria followed one step behind, her right hand glowing bright blue, pulse lines flickering beneath pale skin.

Lem stumbled through last, clutching his tablet like it was worth more than his life.

Beyond them stretched a massive vertical shaft—circular, multi-leveled.

The Grid-Zero Tower Base.

It looked less like a building, more like a machine designed to swallow cities. Steel walls layered with black plating. Red pulse conduits spiraling along the edges. Faint tremors underfoot from the Storm Gate's active core.

There it was:At the far end.

A gate towering two hundred meters. Layered in kinetic fields and pulse-reactive armor.Sealed. Untouched. Impossible.

Lem stared up at it, eyes wide.

"The Storm Gate..." he whispered. "Rhys's final firewall."

West scanned the upper levels. He didn't see any drones yet. But the quiet was louder than gunfire.

"How do we crack it?" he asked.

"Normally?" Lem swallowed. "We don't."

As if on cue, the tower activated.

Turrets unfolded from wall panels—pulse guns spinning up.

Dozens of silver-winged drones dropped from hatches above, their wings buzzing like hornets.

West didn't hesitate.

"Aria. Left. Cover Lem."

Her voice was calm: "Copy."

The first shot screamed toward them—a blue pulse round slicing through the air.

West ducked low, pipe swinging up. The metal connected with a drone's chassis mid-flight.

The drone shattered against the floor. Sparks flew.

Aria stepped forward—not dodging, but moving through the line of fire. Her pulse lines burned brighter.

Her body flickered.

One Aria became two.

PULSE MIRAGE: ACTIVE

The fake image drew turret fire.

The real Aria moved like a ghost, slamming her palm into the nearest drone. Its core erupted in blue-white flame.

Her face didn't even twitch.

West caught two more units with wide arcs of his pipe. One strike crushed a drone's leg. The second caved its optic array.

But there were too many.

From above—new shapes dropped.

Not drones.

People.

Real human fighters. Worn-out combat armor patched with wire. Gas masks. Rusted pulse rifles.

For a heartbeat, West thought they were enemies.

Then one fighter raised a hand.

Universal signal.

Friendly.

A voice crackled over a local comm:

"Sigma Unit, Lower Grid Resistance! We caught your signal!"

Lem choked: "Impossible... survivors?"

West didn't drop his stance.

But he didn't swing.

Aria glanced at him. Her voice, for once, carried weight:

"We're not alone anymore."

The Resistance fighters opened fire.

Pulse rounds filled the air—blue arcs slamming drones out of the sky.

West didn't break formation. He grabbed Lem by the arm.

"Get that gate open. Now."

Lem slid into the nearest control terminal, eyes wild, hands flying across keys.

"I can't breach it fully... But—"

"But what?" West snapped.

"I can open one corridor," Lem said. "Enough for a strike team. Sixty seconds. Maybe seventy."

West nodded.

"Do it."

The Resistance pushed forward, creating a wall of fire.

West moved alongside them—no commands, no speeches.

Aria followed him, pulse blade glowing in her hand now, a pure line of light.

Turrets rotated toward her.

She didn't stop.

Her Mirage flickered again—three copies now.

Drones fired at the wrong one.

The real Aria punched through, cracking a turret mount in half with her bare palm.

Lem's voice cut through the noise:

"Forty seconds!"

A new sound roared from above.

West looked up.

Elite drones.

Bigger. Heavier. Armored like tanks.

RHYS DEFENSE CLASS: TITAN UNITS

Two of them.

West spat blood from a split lip.

"Of course."

The Resistance line staggered.

One Titan drone fired a heavy pulse cannon. The shot vaporized half a platform.

West gritted his teeth.

"Aria."

She stepped beside him. Face calm. Voice steady.

"Yes?"

"Target priority?"

She smiled—small, sharp.

"First one down wins."

They moved together.

West swung low, pipe gripped in both hands, smashing into the Titan's leg joint.

Aria dove high, palm striking its upper armor plate.

The Titan staggered.

Not dead.

But slowing.

They hit again.

And again.

Every strike was in rhythm—like they'd trained for it all their lives.

Lem shouted:

"Gate breach in five—four—"

West grabbed the Titan's optic array, ripped it loose.

"Three—"

Aria flipped over its head, landing beside Lem.

"Two—one—"

The Storm Gate cracked open.

Not fully.

But enough.

A single corridor, pulsing blue light, leading deeper into Grid-Zero's core systems.

West didn't wait.

He pointed forward.

"Go!"

The Resistance surged with them—fighters pouring into the corridor, rifles raised.

And for the first time—

They weren't running.

They were storming.

Together.

Far above, Rhys watched through mirrored glass.

His voice, unheard by any human ears:

"Good. Come find me."