THE SIEGE OF NEOTROY

Aklion’s mind stirred in the stillness, an unfamiliar sensation grounding him as consciousness slowly returned. For the first time in what felt like eons, there was no haze, no INPAXX-induced fog clouding his thoughts. His body ached, his muscles stiff from the battle with Hektor, but there was something more subtle nagging at the corners of his awareness—clarity. His thoughts weren’t rushing like a wild current, as they had while under the effects of the drug. He could think. He could breathe.

The cool, sterile air of the room hit his senses next. He wasn’t in a battlefield anymore, nor was he in any Conglomerate facility. No, this place was different. There were no holographic displays flickering across his vision, no buzzing HUD updates invading his mind. Just the simple, antiseptic quiet of what seemed like a medical room.

His hands patted over his chest, and that’s when he noticed it—no armor. He was stripped down, wearing a simple tunic, barely covering the multitude of bruises and cuts that littered his skin. For a moment, panic set in. No weapons. No guns. No armor. Vulnerability clawed at his mind, but it didn’t consume him the way it once would have.

He sat up slowly, swinging his legs over the edge of the cot, every movement sending sharp pangs through his ribs and limbs. He took in the surroundings—rows of medical equipment that looked just as stripped down as he felt. Nothing here was top-tier Conglomerate tech. Everything looked improvised, almost as if it had been scavenged from a dozen different places and thrown together.

Stats Update:

•HP: 42%

•Stamina: 40%

•Cognition Stability: 95%

•Glitch Instability: Offline

•Status: Recovering

For once, his HUD wasn’t drowning him in flashing warnings and chaotic numbers. It was calm. Almost too calm. “What on earth…” Aklion muttered, rubbing his face, feeling the rough stubble on his jaw. His brain was firing normally, no glitch surges, no hallucinations of gods or ancient battlefields. The absence of INPAXX in his system left him sharper, more aware of every sound, every detail around him.

A noise at the far end of the room caught his attention. He turned, muscles tensing instinctively, ready for another attack. Instead, he saw a familiar figure walk in—Vectora, the rebel leader he had spent so much time hunting. Only now, she wasn’t the target in his crosshairs. She was something else entirely. She stood tall, her stance confident as she approached, though there was no trace of hostility in her expression. “You’re awake,” she said evenly, standing at the foot of his cot.

Aklion’s eyes narrowed. “Where am I? What the hell is going on?” Vectora didn’t flinch. Instead, she leaned against the table beside him, arms folded, studying him with a look that made his skin crawl—like she was evaluating him, measuring him up. “You’re in one of our medical facilities, in a hideout,” she explained. “You were dying, Aklion. The mercenary Hektor wasn’t just sent to wipe out the rebels. He was sent to kill you too. The Conglomerate wanted you dead for some reason. Care to elaborate why?”

Aklion’s breath hitched. That realization stung. The Conglomerate had turned on him. He ignored her question, as he did not have an answer. “So, I’m your prisoner?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level, but the bitterness in his tone couldn’t be fully masked. “Not exactly,” Vectora replied with a shrug. “We saved your life. That much is true. But what happens next isn’t up to me alone. Some of my people… well, let’s just say they’re not thrilled you’re breathing.”

Aklion couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh, though the effort made his ribs ache. “Yeah, can’t imagine I’m too popular with your crowd. I’ve killed a lot of your people.” Vectora’s expression didn’t change. “Yes, you have. But it’s not just that. You’ve been a symbol of everything we’ve been fighting against. The Conglomerate’s iron fist, personified. For some of us, your death would feel like justice.”

Aklion’s pulse quickened, but his mind remained steady. There was something about being free of INPAXX that made everything sharper, more controlled. Instead of rage bubbling to the surface, he found himself analyzing the situation with cold, efficient logic. But… isn’t that the opposite of how things should be? INPAXX should make him emotionless and, therefore, more rational. Things seemed really off since the beginning of the war. “So, what’s the play here? You gonna hand me over to them? Or do you think you can flip me to your side?”

Vectora raised an eyebrow. “Flip you? No, Aklion. I’m not naive enough to think you’d ever be one of us. But you’re not as one-dimensional as the Conglomerate made you out to be. At least that’s my impression after studying you and your behavior. Don’t you think your paxxer mind seems really out of character? Anyway…You’ve seen things, learned things that could help us.”

“Help you do what, exactly?” Aklion asked. “The Conglomerate runs everything. You’re just gnats buzzing around their head.” …“We’re gnats now,” Vectora admitted, “but even gnats can sting. And the Conglomerate has made plenty of mistakes—like underestimating how far they can push even their best soldiers before they break.”

Aklion leaned back slightly, considering her words. He had been pushed. Maybe not broken, but damn close. The endless missions, the slaughter, the glitch. They had all chipped away at him, little by little, until he wasn’t sure what was left. And now, sitting here without the numbing haze of INPAXX, it felt like he was seeing everything for the first time.

But before he could respond, a loud bang echoed from the hallway outside the medical bay. It wasn’t the mechanical precision of Conglomerate boots. It was something more erratic, more desperate. Vectora’s calm exterior faltered for the briefest second. “What the hell?”

The door burst open, and in stormed a group of rebels, their faces twisted with fury. They were ragtag, but heavily armed, their rifles trained on Aklion. The lead rebel, a man with a grizzled beard and eyes full of hatred, spat on the floor as he glared at Vectora. “This ends now, Vectora,” he growled. “You should’ve never brought him here.”

Aklion’s body tensed, instincts kicking in. His eyes darted to the weapons on the rebels, sizing them up. He’d killed men with guns pointed at him before, but this situation was different. These weren’t mercenaries or Conglomerate soldiers. These were people whose friends, whose families, had been killed by his hand.

Vectora stepped forward, her voice firm. “Stand down, Revik. We made a decision.”…“You made a decision,” Revik snarled. “My brother is dead because of him. My family. And you want us to just let him walk free? Fuck no.”

The air grew thick with tension, and Aklion’s mind raced through the calculations. He was unarmed, his strength still sapped from the injuries and the INPAXX detox. The odds weren’t in his favor. But his mind was clear, sharper than it had been in years. Revik’s finger twitched on the trigger. “You should’ve stayed dead, Aklion.”

Aklion’s hands flexed, ready to react, when Vectora stepped between them. “This isn’t how we handle things, Revik,” she said quietly. “If we start killing each other over grudges, we’re no better than the Conglomerate.”

Revik’s face twisted in rage, but before he could respond, more rebels piled into the room, some of them yelling, some pleading. The insurrection was boiling over, a chaotic mess of anger, fear… in that moment the room was about to be a graveyard. All eyes were on Revik, his grip on the rifle tight enough to make his knuckles turn white. His chest heaved with every breath, the raw hatred etched on his face giving way to something else—confusion, maybe even doubt.

Aklion didn’t move, didn’t blink. He knew this was a gamble. He wasn’t sure if Revik would pull the trigger or not, but in that split second, Aklion saw the weakness, the indecision. He was a trained killer, born and bred by the Conglomerate to strike at the heart of weakness.

But today, he chose something different.

“If you want to end me,” Aklion continued, his voice unnervingly calm, “then do it. But I guarantee you, the moment you do, the Conglomerate wins. You think this is about your brother? About your family? It’s about control. The Conglomerate controls you through your hate. They control me through the missions they feed me, through the drugs they pump into my veins.”

Revik’s eyes flickered with confusion. He looked at Vectora, who stood silently, her arms crossed, waiting for the tension to snap one way or another. Revim was no cold blood killer. He was a man with a sad story and righteous anger. The other rebels murmured among themselves, the cacophony of emotions in the room nearly tangible. “This isn’t over,” Revik finally muttered, lowering his weapon but not putting it away. “Not by a fucking long shot.”

With a final glare, he stormed out of the room, a few of the rebels trailing behind him, their eyes still burning with resentment. But they were gone. At least for now. Aklion exhaled slowly, his body relaxing but only slightly. He wasn’t out of the woods yet. He turned to Vectora, who had been watching him with a mix of curiosity and something else he couldn’t quite place.

“You let me live,” Aklion said, a hint of disbelief creeping into his voice. “Why?”

Vectora sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Because killing you won’t solve our problems. Right now, we need information more than we need a body. And you, Aklion, are a goldmine of Conglomerate knowledge. You know their strategies, their protocols, their tech. You’re more useful to us alive.”

“Useful,” Aklion echoed. He didn’t like the sound of that. He had always been a tool—a weapon in the hands of the Conglomerate. But now, it seemed he was just another pawn in someone else’s game. Vectora stepped closer, her voice lowering to a near whisper. “But don’t mistake this for mercy. You’re on thin ice. You may not be on INPAXX anymore, but that doesn’t erase what you’ve done.”

Aklion met her gaze, the cold steel in her eyes mirroring his own. “I’m not asking for mercy.”

“No, I didn’t think you were.”

Aklion met her gaze, the cold steel in her eyes mirroring his own.