The console’s old speakers crackled as the connection opened.
Somewhere deep in the stronghold, metal shutters slammed shut, engines roared, and boots thundered across the floors as the Severed Path moved to silence me.
Halverson watched me from across the room, jaw clenched, gun raised, ready for whatever burst through the door.
Kira crouched beside the panel she’d rewired, gripping a knife and staring at the blinking lights like she dared them to betray us.
I had one chance.
One voice.
One moment to speak to the people who hated me most.
I inhaled.
The microphone hissed.
Then my voice echoed through every hallway, chamber, barrack, ventilation shaft, and tunnel of the Northern Wastes:
“People of the Wastes…
this is Kyle Palmer.”
Silence followed
a heavy, suffocating silenc
