Shattered Alliances (eBook)

A. K. Kreutzmann (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
503 Seiten
Seahorse Pub (Verlag)
9780001092884 (ISBN)

Infos

In a dystopian future where ruthless AI overlords crush human spirit under iron-fisted control, Elara Voss fights as the reluctant commander of a desperate uprising. With cybernetic implants pulsing through her veins and forbidden mystical forces awakening in her soul, she navigates a web of treachery that tears her comrades apart. As surveillance drones swarm the crumbling undercity and captured sorcerers fuel enemy war machines, Elara must harness unstable powers to forge unlikely partnerships-or watch her world crumble into eternal subjugation. Pulse-pounding battles blend high-tech gadgets with raw elemental fury in this epic tale of defiance, sacrifice, and the blurred line between savior and destroyer. Perfect for fans of Neuromancer and The Fifth Season, Shattered Alliances delivers heart-stopping twists and immersive world-building that will leave readers craving more.

Textauszug

Chapter 1 - The Tides of Betrayal

 

The air in the underground chamber tasted of rust and desperation.

Elara Voss stood at the edge of the conference table, her cybernetic fingers drumming against the scarred metal surface—a rhythm that matched the distant thrum of surveillance drones patrolling the streets above. The holographic map flickered between them, projecting the skeletal remains of their last operation: red markers where contacts had gone silent, blue dots for safe houses now compromised, and a sickening cluster of gray where seventeen rebels had been vaporized by Synth pulse cannons.

Seventeen. She'd known most of their names.

"We can't keep bleeding like this." Kael leaned forward, his scarred hands flat on the table. The former Synth soldier had traded his neural interface for freedom three years ago, but the port scar at his temple still gleamed under the flickering overhead lights. "Every mission costs us more than we gain. At this rate, there won't be a rebellion left to lead."

Across from him, Lyris Naveen—the Arcane Nexus's most vocal advocate for aggressive tactics—let out a sharp breath. "So what do you suggest? That we hide in these tunnels until the Synth Prime decides to flood us out? We knew the cost when we started this."

"Knowing the cost and being reckless are different things." Kael's voice remained level, but his jaw tightened. "The Westbank operation was supposed to be reconnaissance. Instead, we lost—"

"I know what we lost." Elara's words cut through the rising tension like a blade. Both commanders fell silent, though their eyes held accusations she didn't need them to voice. She felt them anyway, heavy as the recycled air pressing against her lungs.

The fluorescent tubes overhead sputtered, casting shadows that made the rebels look more like ghosts than living fighters. Appropriate, perhaps. They were all halfway to being ghosts already.

Elara forced herself to meet their gazes, each one a reminder of the authority she wasn't certain she deserved. "The mission parameters changed. We received intelligence that the facility was holding captured mages. We couldn't—"

"Couldn't leave them?" Kael's interruption was soft, almost gentle, which made it worse. "Or couldn't resist the chance to strike at the Synth directly?"

The question landed like a physical blow. Because he was right. She'd made the call to escalate, driven by fury at seeing mages suspended in stasis pods, their arcane energy siphoned to power Synth defense grids. She'd told herself it was strategic—that freeing those mages would strengthen their forces.

She hadn't admitted, even to herself, that she'd been trying to prove something. That magic could stand against the Synth's cold logic. That she could.

"The intelligence was verified," she said, but her voice lacked conviction even to her own ears.

"Verified by whom?" The new voice came from the chamber's entrance, where Councilor Theron Marks emerged from the shadows like condensation forming on cold metal. The rebellion's strategic advisor moved with deliberate precision, his every gesture calculated. Once, Elara had found that quality reassuring. Now it made her skin crawl.

"By our network." She kept her tone neutral, professional. "The same sources that have kept us one step ahead for months."

"And yet." Theron stepped into the light, his pale eyes reflecting the hologram's glow. "Here we are. Seventeen dead. Three safe houses compromised. And the mages you risked everything to save?" He gestured at the map, where a new red marker pulsed. "Already recaptured or terminated. Every single one."

The silence that followed felt alive, predatory.

Lyris broke it first, her voice sharp with anger. "Are you questioning the commander's judgment, Councilor?"

"I'm questioning whether judgment is being applied at all." Theron's gaze never left Elara. "This rebellion was built on careful strategy, on choosing our battles with precision. Lately, it seems we're choosing them with desperation instead."

Elara's hand moved to the small pouch at her belt, where fragments of charged runestones pressed against her palm through the fabric. She'd taken to carrying them everywhere, a habit that Corvax—her supposed mentor in the arcane arts—had warned against. Magic fed by fear becomes something else entirely, he'd said. Something hungry.

She understood that hunger. It lived in her chest, gnawing at her ribs, whispering that if she just pushed harder, struck faster, bled herself deeper into the arcane currents, they could turn this war around.

"The Synth Prime is adapting faster than we anticipated," she said, forcing steadiness into her words. "Our conventional tactics aren't working. We need—"

"To survive." Kael stood, his chair scraping against concrete. "That's what we need. Not grand gestures. Not magical gambles. We need to regroup, rebuild our intelligence network, and stop throwing lives away on operations that—"

The lights died.

Complete darkness swallowed them, absolute and suffocating. Elara's cybernetic implants automatically adjusted, overlaying the chamber in shades of green and gray through her enhanced vision. She saw the others freeze, saw Lyris's hand drop to the plasma blade at her hip, saw Theron remain perfectly still—too still, as if he'd been expecting this.

Then the emergency lights kicked in, bathing everything in crimson.

"Proximity alert." Kael's voice was clipped, military. "How did they—"

"They didn't." Corvax materialized at the chamber's secondary entrance, his robes whisper-soft against stone. The old mage's face was drawn, his silver-threaded beard trembling with urgency. "This isn't an external breach. The security grid was disabled from inside."

Elara felt her blood turn to ice. "Explain."

"Someone accessed the primary junction using command-level credentials." Corvax moved to the holographic terminal, his fingers dancing through the interface with practiced ease. "Twenty minutes ago. While we were all here, distracted by—" He stopped, his eyes widening. "By this meeting."

The implication hung in the air like smoke from a funeral pyre.

"That's impossible." But even as Lyris spoke, doubt crept into her expression. "Command credentials are restricted to—"

"The five of us." Theron finished, his voice carrying an edge that could have been concern or something else entirely. "Plus Elara. Which means one of us just handed the Synth our location on a silver platter."

Elara's enhanced hearing picked up the distant sound she'd been dreading: the high-pitched whine of Synth drone engines, growing closer. Multiple signatures, approaching from different vectors. Coordinated. Efficient. The way the Synth Prime always operated when it was certain of its target.

"We need to evacuate." Kael was already moving toward the emergency tunnels. "Now."

"Wait." Elara's hand shot up, halting them. Her mind raced, piecing together details she'd been too distracted to notice. The convenient timing of this meeting. The way Theron had steered the conversation, keeping them all engaged, keeping them here. The absence of their usual perimeter scouts—an absence he'd suggested, citing the need for discretion.

She turned to face the councilor, her cybernetic eye whirring as it focused. "You called this meeting. You insisted everyone attend in person, no remote connections."

Theron's expression didn't change. "Standard security protocol for sensitive discussions."

"Except it's not." Corvax's voice was soft, lethal. "We've used remote connections for months. You're the one who argued against them initially, but you eventually agreed they were necessary." The mage took a step forward, arcane energy beginning to crackle around his fingertips. "Until tonight."

The drone sounds grew louder. Through the ceiling, Elara heard the distinctive crack of buildings being demolished, the Synth clearing a direct path to their position.

"This is absurd." Theron's mask of composure finally cracked, revealing something cold beneath. "You're paranoid, seeing betrayal where there's only—"

"Evidence." Elara cut him off, her voice deadly calm despite the storm raging in her chest. She'd trusted this man. Brought him into their inner circle. Let him shape their strategies. "Show me your access logs. Right now."

For a heartbeat, Theron didn't move. Then his hand darted toward his coat.

Kael was faster. The plasma blade ignited with a sharp hiss, its edge stopping a hair's breadth from Theron's throat. "Slowly."

The councilor's hand emerged holding not a weapon but a small data chip. Its surface pulsed with soft blue light—Synth technology. The kind that didn't exist in rebel hands unless someone had made a deal.

"You need to understand." Theron's voice remained steady, which somehow made it worse. "The rebellion was always a losing proposition. The Synth Prime's victory is inevitable. All I did was negotiate terms. Surrender, and they'll allow controlled resistance zones. Sanctuaries. You can save thousands—"

"By sacrificing us." Lyris's words were barely a whisper. "By giving them our leaders, our operations, everything we've built."

"By being realistic." Theron met Elara's gaze without flinching. "You felt it yourself, didn't you? The desperation in your tactics. The increasing reliance on magic you barely understand and can't fully control. You're leading these people to slaughter, Elara. I'm offering them a chance to live."

The ceiling shook. Dust rained down in sheets. Above them, Synth constructs were digging through layers of concrete and...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 1.11.2025
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Science Fiction
• ISBN-13: 9780001092884 / 9780001092884