Chapter 8 Marked By Fire

The Wasteland sky glowed red as the sun slipped past the horizon, painting the jagged cliffs in blood light. Liora stood at the edge of the ash-ring, the last embers of the rite still simmering beneath her feet. The wind carried the scent of dust and iron, but something else too, something new.

Power.

Not hers alone, but shared. Bound by oath and fire.

The Wastelander wolves moved differently now. Less suspicion, more reverence. Even Mira, who had never bowed to anyone, looked at Liora with a flicker of something close to awe. And Kael.... Kael hadn't said a word since the circle flared with moonfire. But his silence was heavy with meaning.

"I didn't expect it to feel like this," Liora whispered.

Kael stood beside her. "Like what?"

"Like everything inside me is... burning. But not in pain. In purpose."

"That's what true power is. Not control. Clarity."

She met his eyes. "You knew this would happen."

"I hoped."

Far below, Fenrick's wolves began howling short bursts, then long notes. Not mournful. Triumphant.

A signal.

And in the distance, it was answered. Faint howls echoed through the broken valleys. One. Two. Then dozens more.

The packs were waking.

Liora turned toward the firepit where Mira laid out a crude map, lined with symbols made from bone shards and obsidian chips. War pieces, scarred and jagged, like the people who carved them.

Mira didn't look up. "We don't have time to wait for every pack to pledge."

"How long before the Regime responds?" Liora asked.

"They're already moving. We intercepted a drone transmission earlier today. Your escape triggered a recon sweep. They'll scan every mile of the Ash-grove."

"And when they don't find us there?" Kael said.

Mira's mouth twisted. "They'll burn the forest anyway."

Liora clenched her fists. Everything she'd known, every sanctuary was marked for ash.

"We can't outrun them forever," she said. "We fight on their terms, we lose."

Fenrick stepped up, half-draped in scavenged leathers. "Then we shift the battlefield."

He moved a bone chip across the map, toward a blackened crater. "Here. Ruinspire. Abandoned Regime outpost. Still has partial shields and underground vaults. It was a lab once. Before the purges."

Kael frowned. "You want to make a stand there?"

Fenrick's grin was all teeth. "Let's give them irony. Let's make the place they broke us the place they fall."

Mira hesitated. "The radiation field's unstable. Half the tech's buried. And the terrain's unpredictable."

"So are we," Liora said.

The room fell silent.

"Make it our stronghold," she continued. "We reinforce it. Rewire what tech we can. We send a message to the outer rogue clans. If they want a future, they meet us at Ruinspire."

Mira met her gaze. "You're not just leading. You're declaring."

"They declared war on us the day they turned wolves into weapons," Liora said. "I'm done running."

Kael finally spoke. "Then we move by nightfall."

The march began beneath the light of a fractured moon. It wasn't full, not yet. But its glow shimmered through the Wastelands like a silver omen. They traveled in waves, scouts first, then Mira's strike team, and finally, Liora's unit: the binding core of shifters who had pledged to the blade.

Each had their own scars.

Some still bore the Regime's branding across their spines. Others wore teeth and claws like armor. Every step was a defiance of the chains they'd broken.

Kael walked beside Liora, quiet and watchful. He hadn't shifted since the ceremony. Neither had she.

"You're holding back," she said.

"So are you."

"Afraid of what we'll become?"

He gave a dry laugh. "No. Afraid of what we'll unleash."

A tremor rolled beneath their feet. The land here breathed differently, shuddering as if remembering every bomb and scream buried in its stone. Ruinspire came into view at dawn: a blackened fortress half-sunken into a crater, its walls scorched and spiked with twisted metal.

It was both grave and throne.

Fenrick's wolves began circling the perimeter. Mira barked orders. Kael activated a small orb, projecting a map of the vault tunnels beneath the fortress.

"Most of this is still functional. But it's booby-trapped. Regime-level security."

"I can get through," Liora said. "I remember their codes."

Kael gave her a sharp look. "How?"

"They trained me to access anything. I was supposed to be their key."

"Now you're ours."

Together, they descended into the vault.

The air grew thick with static. Faded warning signs blinked red across broken terminals. A massive steel door barred their way, etched with Regime insignia. Kael moved toward the interface, but Liora held him back.

"Let me."

She placed her palm against the scanner.

For a long moment... nothing.

Then the light turned green.

ACCESS GRANTED. WELCOME, SUBJECT L-X19.

The doors creaked open.

The vault was a ghost of its former self, rows of shattered pods, surgical arms rusted into stillness. A few sparks blinked overhead. The silence was deafening.

Liora stepped forward, heart hammering.

One pod still functioned.

Inside, a figure floated-female. Curled, unconscious. Silver hair drifting in fluid.

"No," Liora breathed. "That's not possible."

Kael moved beside her, eyes narrowing.

"Who is she?"

"She was my sister."

He froze. "Liora..."

"I thought she died during the purge. They told me she failed the trials. But they kept her. Used her as backup."

The pod hummed. The woman's eyes opened, gold and full of fire.

"Then wake her," Kael said softly. "Because war is coming."