The "camp" was no camp at all.
It was a barricaded fortress of salvaged tech, rusted walls humming with stolen electricity. Armed guards watched from makeshift towers, faces hidden behind visors that buzzed faintly with scanning frequencies.
Aria stepped forward first, hands raised. "We're not enemies."
A pause. Then a voice crackled through an overhead speaker. "Names?"
She hesitated. "Aria Vale. Former cryo-subject. ICEGARDEN escapee."
A longer pause. Then the gates opened—slow and grinding.
Inside, the camp pulsed with life. Children played beside walls of steel, their laughter jarring against the tension. Tents stitched with old military patches lined the walkways. Everywhere, people stared. Some with hope. Some with fear.
They were ushered to a large dome at the center. There, a woman waited—tall, lean, with silver eyes that burned like mercury.
"I'm Commander Ilya," she said. "And you're a ghost."
Aria blinked. "What?"
"We thought you were dead," Ilya replied. "We've been watching ICEGARDEN survivors for months. Your file was redacted… and marked terminated."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "So you've been tracking us?"
"We've been tracking everyone. And what we've seen, Aria… you're not just a survivor. You're a catalyst."