Page 50 of Claimed By the Alien Assassin
My heart splinters.
Dayn’s jaw sets. I lean close. “Now.”
He inclines once. My crew eases into action: Hargon and Tessa slip away into the crowd's perimeter, Delta team glides toward the east flank, loading devices. They disappear like shadows in tracks of metal.
The performance carries on—windmachines, Vortaxian choir singing triumph falsely lined with terror.
I press a thumb against Dayn’s palm. We hold, silent choreography of warriors in disguise, ready to turn the stage into an uprising.
They don’t suspect the saboteurs who press circuit packs into vent grates behind the dais. The devices faintly pulse red—set to go in four hours, just after the gala’s climax.
My breathing steadies. Music roars—invasive, suffocating.
Dayn leans close. His voice is steel. “You ready to lead?”
My throat closes. Every sound is amplified—the faux-merry music, the hum of the crowd, my own pulse.
I lift my chin. “We’re dancing with knives today.”
He nods. “Then dance like you mean it.”
The gala reaches its crescendo.Vortaxian banners wave; guards raise their carbines for show. My comm is silent, phantom grip.
Then—I give the signal.
My voice, low but carrying: “Now.”
Delta team ignites the first row. Corridors flash with strobe of smoke grenades—pop pop pop. Crowd panics. Guards spin. Music warps as speakers cut out.
Children cry. I step forward, lifting my voice: “Citizens of Snowblossom! The time has come!”
A hush falls—sharp as ice.
Dayn stands beside me. He sees the fire in my eyes, mirrors it with his own.
“Thisisour Unity!” I continue, voice rising, smelling cordite and human breath—a symphony of awakening. “Not submission. Not spectacle.Resistance!”
The crowd parts, stunned and ragged.
“Tonight," I scream, “we stand together—not for empire, but for ourselves!”
Guards level weapons. I raise my hand.
Dayn’s other arm sweeps behind me in solidarity. The room crackles with potential. Fear meets defiance.
Kernal’s stern bark echoes down. “Seize them!”
Guards hesitate. Some not willing to shoot humans. Some. Not. Willing.
Delta team flames the next trap.
Chaos blooms. Smoke, screams, shouts of freedom.
My heart pounds. My voice roars again, overlaid with hope chafed sharp. “This isourunity. Together, we fight.”
I look at Dayn. His face is half-shadows, half-promise. We’re standing on chaos now—but for the first time, the war doesn’t feel impossible.
Weareunity.
