Chapter 21: Rust & Reckoning
The safehouse in Tunisia smelled like gun oil, citrus trees, and silence.
Jax hadn't spoken since the burial. Sienna sat at the window, watching the streetlamp flicker in rhythm with her racing thoughts. She hadn’t slept in two days. Not well, anyway.
Mercer-02 sat on the couch, knees tucked tight, watching an old film flicker on a cracked tablet. No sound. Just movement. Expression. Choice.
Every now and then, his lips moved in sync with the characters, like he knew the lines before they came.
Echo-02 was sharpening a blade. Not because she needed it ready. Because it gave her an excuse not to feel.
And that’s when Jax said it.
“I wasn’t the first one they broke.”
No one moved.
No one needed to.
Because in that small room, every survivor carried a we
