The gates of the settlement were still makeshift—salvaged steel and repurposed drone plating—but they stood tall, watched over by sentries who were once engineers, healers, and dreamers. Today, they stood as defenders.
Dust blew across the road as a single dark vehicle approached from the eastern ridge. Sleek, unmarked, its matte-black surface shimmered faintly under the sun. Emory, Rae, and Damian waited at the entry point, flanked by guards. Nobody spoke, but every hand was near a weapon.
The vehicle stopped.
A long pause.
Then the door hissed open.
Two figures stepped out. One was a man, tall and clean-cut, in a fitted gray coat that looked both military and ceremonial. The other—a woman with close-cropped silver hair and sharp, analytical eyes that scanned everything like a processor warming up.
"Emory Vale," the woman said without introduction. "I'm Dr. Sera Lin of the Eden Protocol. This is Commander Harrow."
Emory didn't offer a handshake. "You're bold, showing up uninvited."
"We sent word," Harrow said coolly. "We assumed you understood the urgency."
Rae crossed her arms. "We did. That's why you're being met here, not welcomed in."
Sera Lin didn't blink. "We didn't come to threaten. We came with knowledge. Your beacon is active. That signal is too powerful to be left untethered."
"Tethered to who?" Emory challenged. "You?"
"To safety," she replied. "To order."
Emory smiled grimly. "Order was what gave rise to Specter. You remember how that turned out?"
Sera Lin didn't flinch. "Specter was corrupted. But the core of Eden Protocol still believes in peace through balance. We've seen what happens when minds are freed without guidance. Across the region, we're tracking spikes in violence, breakdowns in communication—"
"Freedom comes with chaos," Rae interrupted. "Doesn't mean we crawl back into your clean little labs and beg for chains."
Sera nodded slightly. "You're passionate. That's good. But it's passion without structure that birthed Specter. We don't intend to rebuild it. We only want to help prevent the collapse of human harmony."
Damian stepped forward. "And what's your price?"
The woman hesitated. Just long enough.
"Co-administration of the beacon's signal," she said. "We'll integrate our stabilizers into the frequency and monitor network feedback. From afar. No direct interference with your governance."
"In other words, you want to quietly regain control," Emory said. "Dress it up however you like, it's the same old Eden."
A beat of silence passed.
Then Commander Harrow finally spoke, his voice deep and controlled. "The world is fracturing, Vale. You don't have the infrastructure to handle what's coming. Refugee waves. Psychological trauma. Ex-warlords reclaiming zones. Your ideals are noble… but this isn't about nobility. It's about survival."
"We'll survive without puppeteers," Emory replied.
Harrow stared at him. Then nodded once.
"Then don't say we didn't offer help when the foundation crumbles."
With that, they turned and walked back to the vehicle.
As the doors sealed and the machine hummed to life, Rae muttered, "They're going to try something."
"They already are," Emory said.
Back at the command center, Isabelle was poring over new reports.
"You should see this," she said as Emory entered. "Two of our outposts lost comms an hour before Eden arrived. No physical breach, no signs of damage. Just silence."
"They're testing us," Emory said. "Seeing how we respond."
Damian entered behind him, slamming a data drive onto the table. "Well, we respond by showing them we don't break. I want a double-layer firewall on the beacon. Lock out every Eden signature. And… maybe it's time we send a message."
Rae smirked. "Finally. Some fun."
Outside, the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the camp. The fire was coming. And with it, a truth that everyone would soon have to face:
Peace without sacrifice… may be impossible.