The moon hung low, casting pale silver light over the scorched ruins. Around the dying fire, the group settled, faces weary but alert. Sable sat slightly apart, eyes fixed on the distant horizon as if chasing ghosts only she could see.
Ava broke the silence, voice gentle but curious. "Tell us about you, Sable. How did you get involved with Winterglass?"
Sable's gaze darkened, memories flickering behind her sharp eyes like shadows in the night.
"I was one of them," she began slowly. "A soldier in their private force—trained, conditioned, and bound by secrets. They called me the Ghost Operative. No one knew my real name. No one knew what I did."
She clenched her fists, voice tightening. "I believed in their cause, their promise of order. But I saw the truth—the experiments, the lies, the lives destroyed."
Her eyes flicked toward Ava. "When I learned about what they did to you—how they tried to create weapons out of innocent people—I knew I had to break free."
Noah leaned forward, intrigued. "What made you turn against them?"
Sable's jaw tightened, haunted. "Betrayal. They sent me on a mission to eliminate a group of defectors—people who wanted to expose Winterglass. I realized then I was part of the machine destroying lives."
She paused, then met Ava's gaze steadily. "I escaped, but they've hunted me ever since. I've been gathering intel, waiting for the right moment."
Ava nodded slowly, respect blooming in her eyes. "Then you're exactly who we need."
Luca glanced at the data pad. "With your knowledge, we can hit them where it hurts—expose their funding, their networks, and the people behind the scenes."
Sable stood, energy returning to her stance like a coiled spring. "Tonight, we plan. Tomorrow, we strike."
The desert wind swept around them, carrying the weight of past sins—and the promise of justice.
Together, they would become the storm.
To be continued...