I Should’ve Listened on Time

The storm continued to rage, thunder rolling ominously as chaos consumed the once-structured streets of Facilis. The Normalists moved like shadows, their cryptic presence sowing fear and confusion. Among them, Wrex, Loria, and Fozic found themselves cornered in an abandoned square.

“This is getting worse by the second!” Loria shouted, her voice barely cutting through the downpour.

Fozic scanned their surroundings, his face twisted in urgency. “We need to keep moving. If they catch us here, it’s over!”

Before Wrex could respond, a piercing sound ripped through the air—a sharp, reverberating hum that made the ground tremble. Loria’s body stiffened, her eyes widening in shock as she collapsed to the ground.

“Loria!” Wrex shouted, dropping to his knees beside her. Her breathing was shallow, her eyes fluttering as if struggling to stay conscious.

The Normalists had used one of their sound-based weapons. The energy emitted no visible projectile, but the damage was unmistakable.

“She’s hit!” Wrex growled, his fists clenching.

Fozic glanced at the advancing Normalists, their eerie calm and unrelenting approach sending chills down his spine. He turned to Wrex, his voice steady but firm. “We can’t save her. Not now.”

Wrex’s head snapped up, fury in his eyes. “What did you just say?”

Fozic grabbed Wrex by the shoulders. “Listen to me! She’s not in danger of dying. These weapons don’t kill—they incapacitate. We need to leave her and get out of here. If we don’t, we’ll both be captured, and all of this will be for nothing!”

“I’m not leaving her!” Wrex bellowed, shaking Fozic off and cradling Loria closer. Her hand weakly gripped his arm, a silent plea in her fading gaze.

Fozic’s face darkened, a strange smirk playing on his lips. “You always let your emotions get in the way, Wrex. That’s your biggest flaw.”

“What are you talking about?” Wrex demanded, his voice tinged with suspicion.

Without warning, Fozic pulled a concealed device from his pocket and aimed it at Wrex. A soft click echoed, followed by a sudden burst of pain in Wrex’s back. His body seized, and he fell forward, his vision blurring.

“F-Fozic…?” Wrex gasped, struggling to stay conscious.

Fozic leaned down, his smirk widening. “This is bigger than you, Wrex. You’ll understand soon enough.”

As Wrex’s world faded into darkness, he muttered, barely audible, “She knew it… I should’ve listened…”

The chaos around them showed no signs of slowing. As Fozic disappeared into the shadows, leaving Wrex unconscious, a figure emerged from the misty rain—a woman, cloaked in dark fabric that shimmered faintly under the moonlight. Her presence was commanding yet strangely serene.

She knelt beside Loria, her expression unreadable. With practiced ease, she lifted the injured woman onto her shoulder.

“You’re tougher than you look,” the woman murmured, her voice calm yet tinged with urgency. “But you’re not safe here.”

Loria, barely conscious, managed a weak groan as the woman carried her through the labyrinth of ruined streets. The sounds of the Normalists’ weapons and the cries of panicked citizens faded into the background as the mysterious rescuer moved deeper into the maze of alleys.

The woman brought Loria to a hidden shelter—a small, underground space lit by the faint glow of old machinery. She laid Loria on a makeshift bed and began tending to her wounds, her hands steady and efficient.

“Who… who are you?” Loria whispered, her voice faint.

The woman hesitated before replying, “Someone who knows the truth. Rest now. You’ll need your strength for what’s coming.”

Meanwhile, Wrex’s unconscious body was loaded into a sleek, black vehicle by a group of Normalists. Their movements were precise and efficient, wasting no time as they secured him in the back.

The vehicle, marked with the enigmatic insignia of the Normalists, hummed softly as it sped through the desolate streets, disappearing into the stormy night.

Inside, one of the Normalists, a tall figure with a commanding presence, turned to his companions. “The subject is secure. Begin preparations immediately. The extraction must proceed without delay.”

As the van traveled farther from the town, the moonlight broke through the storm clouds, casting an eerie glow over the scene. The Normalists vanished into the horizon, taking Wrex with them.

The storm began to subside, leaving behind a broken city and shattered illusions. Loria lay in the safety of the underground shelter, her fate uncertain but her spirit unbroken. Wrex, however, was lost to the shadows, his destiny now entangled with the enigmatic Normalists.

The night was far from over, and the secrets of Facilis were only beginning to unravel.

Darkness enveloped Wrex’s mind, heavy and suffocating, as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Faint murmurs and the hum of distant machinery stirred him, but the sharp pain in his back kept him rooted in a haze.

The voices grew clearer, snippets of conversation cutting through the fog.

“We can’t afford to wait any longer. The raid must proceed tonight,” a commanding voice said, cold and resolute.

“But the subject isn’t fully recovered,” another voice countered, softer but equally firm. “If he’s unstable, he could jeopardize the entire operation.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the first voice snapped. “The window of opportunity is closing. If we don’t act now, all of this will be for nothing.”

Wrex’s eyelids fluttered open, his vision blurred but gradually sharpening. He was lying on a metal table in a dimly lit room, surrounded by shadowy figures. Their faces were obscured by masks, their bodies clad in sleek, black uniforms adorned with the emblem of the Normalists.

He tried to move, but his limbs felt heavy, weighed down by whatever sedative they had used. His breaths came in shallow gasps as he strained to listen.

“We’ve identified the access point,” a third voice said, this one tinged with excitement. “Once we breach the vault, we’ll have control over the entire system. The raid will cripple their operations and give us the upper hand.”

“But what about the invasion?” the softer voice asked. “We’ve received reports of an external force moving in. They’re targeting this facility.”

The commanding figure scoffed. “Let them come. They don’t know what they’re up against. By the time they get here, we’ll be long gone—and so will the key to their perfect little world.”

Wrex’s mind raced, the fragments of their conversation forming a chilling picture. The Normalists weren’t just rebels; they were organized, methodical, and dangerously close to achieving their goal. And yet, another threat loomed—a force so powerful that even the Normalists acknowledged its danger.

“Is the subject awake?” one of the figures asked, turning toward Wrex.

“No,” another replied dismissively. “The sedative will keep him under for at least another hour.”

Wrex took a slow, measured breath, willing his body to remain still. His pulse quickened, but he forced himself to appear unconscious, his mind working frantically to piece together a plan.

The conversation continued, growing more urgent.

“The raid team is ready,” the commanding voice said. “We move in five. Secure the subject and prepare for transport. We can’t risk leaving him behind.”

A heavy silence followed, broken only by the hum of machinery.

Then, the first voice spoke again, colder than before. “And if he resists? You know the protocol.”

Wrex’s heart sank. He didn’t need to hear the answer to know what they meant.

Just as the Normalists began their preparations, a deafening explosion rocked the facility. The lights flickered, and an alarm blared, its shrill tone echoing through the metal corridors.

“What the hell is going on?” one of the Normalists shouted, their composure breaking for the first time.

The commanding figure barked orders. “Secure the subject! Everyone else, to your stations! This is not a drill!”

The facility shook again, the sound of heavy machinery and distant gunfire filling the air. Through his half-closed eyes, Wrex caught a glimpse of chaos unfolding around him. The Normalists scrambled, their carefully laid plans thrown into disarray.

In the confusion, Wrex felt the restraints around his wrists loosen as one of the guards fumbled with his equipment. Summoning every ounce of strength, Wrex acted, surging forward and knocking the guard off balance.

His body screamed in protest, the lingering effects of the sedative slowing him down, but his determination pushed him forward. He grabbed a discarded device from the floor—a sleek, rectangular object he recognized as one of the Normalists’ tools—and held it defensively.

The room was in utter chaos. Figures moved like shadows, their movements disjointed as they attempted to respond to the invasion.

“Subject is loose!” one of them yelled, pointing at Wrex.

Before they could react, another explosion tore through the facility, this one closer. The walls groaned under the strain, and smoke began to fill the air.

Wrex staggered toward the exit, his mind focused on escape. He didn’t know who was attacking or why, but he knew one thing for certain: if he stayed, he wouldn’t survive.

As Wrex stumbled into a hallway, he caught a glimpse of the invaders. Clad in heavy, metallic armor that shimmered like liquid under the flickering lights, they moved with precision and purpose. Their weapons were unlike anything Wrex had ever seen—silent, pulsating with energy, and devastatingly effective.

One of the invaders turned, their glowing visor locking onto Wrex. For a moment, he thought they would attack, but instead, the figure hesitated, as if recognizing him.

“Is that—?” the figure began, but a voice crackled over their comms, cutting them off. “No time. Secure the objective.”

The invader nodded and disappeared into the smoke, leaving Wrex alone in the chaos.

Just as Wrex reached the exit, the air shifted. A familiar voice cut through the din, stopping him in his tracks.

“Wrex… you always were stubborn, weren’t you?”

Wrex froze, his heart pounding. He turned slowly, his eyes widening as he saw the face of his old friend, someone he thought was lost long ago.

“You…” Wrex’s voice was barely a whisper, disbelief and confusion mingling in his tone.

The figure stepped forward, their expression unreadable. “You’ve forgotten who you are, Wrex. But don’t worry—we’ll remind you. The truth of Facilis, the truth of the real world, is coming for you.”

As another explosion rocked the facility, the figure vanished into the shadows, leaving Wrex with more questions than answers.

And somewhere deep in his mind, a memory stirred, faint and fleeting, but enough to unsettle him further.

The invasion wasn’t just an attack—it was a reckoning. And the true residents were here to reclaim what was theirs.