Shoutout to CynkNapp 

This lovely person comments a heart ( ♥ )on EVERY SINGLE CHAPTER after it's posted. It's a small gesture, but it is very much appreciated. They also do the same for my other story Luminescent.

THANK YOU FOR 1.5K!

I haven't updated in a bit because I had family, and I havent had the attention span to write. Please let me know if you spot any errors and such in this chapter -^^-

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Chaos. 

That was the first thing Atlas noticed as they bust through the security room doors. The abundance of guards yelling and bustling past was alarming. Most were cursing with their heads tucked down. In the rush, not a single guard raised their head to look at the male standing by the door.

Hope pulled her helmet over her head and Atlas mimicked. Better safe than sorry. The pair rushed through the corridor and towards the exit.They needed to beat the hoard there to usher everyone to freedom. Atlas felt the familiar thump as his feet hit the floor in a light jog. They cut corners and bounced to the main doors.

A few turns away from the large gate Atlas noticed the chaos that had consumed the hallways had disbanded. Nobody dared to disturb the silence. It's heavy and eerie calls beckoned Atlas to turn and run the opposite direction. He knew he couldn't do that.

Fighting his instincts, Atlas picked up his pace and pushed around the last curve. The general stood waiting for them as they slipped into the open. Rifles were raised with the general's hand. Atlas ground his teeth in rage, welcoming the sight of a hundred gun barrels trained on him. The army surrounded the evil matron like blind sheep to a shepherd. Her word was law and they were the foolish puppets who had fallen victim to her lies.

"So you finally decided to show up." Her sinister voice echoed in the vast room, "You see, we have known about this little infestation for a while now." Her tone mocked them as she stepped closer. Her hands clasped firmly behind her back.

"Someone has been giving the enemy information. Now we finally know the identities of the mole. Squadron eleven. Everyone else is here and accounted for." Her wrinkled smirk filled Atlas with bile as her yellowed teeth peeked from her lips. Atlas moved towards the woman, but was quickly halted by the sound of loaded guns. Some stray shells clinked on the ground as hundreds of helmets stared down the sights to the perpetrators. Hope grabbed his wrist and took his hand in her own, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Please remove your helmets and turn in your identification. You have no more need for names. You will be perfect or Project 87. As you know, we here at the Savannah Laboratory specialize in intellectual studies. The two of your and your little ploy will be an excellent addition to our collection. Afterall, you have to know the mind of your enemy." Her lips curled up in a grin.

Atlas felt his heart sink.

No. We can't go back. We've gotten so far.

Fear was crippling his thoughts. It prevented him from thinking logically as he spun around. He hadn't even heard the guards come up from behind. They had them completely surrounded. Atlas shut his eyes in defeat. They had been so close.

"Seize them!" yelled the general. Two guards stepped from her flank with the horrifying electric cuffs outstretched. Suddenly when the doors behind the army started to open, exposing the greenery beyond the gray prison. The heads of the guards whipped around to the tall outpost on their right. A woman Atlas did not recognize had her hand over what he presumed was a button to activate the door.

The woman raised her fist in defiance and shouted, "For the resistance!"

Atlas raised his hand― the one Hope wasn't holding― instinctively. He had grown accustomed to those sweet words. It was a comfort thing. That comfort, however, was slaughtered when a sniper turned to the woman, gunning her down immediately. Her body felt off the platform in cartwheels, landing with a heavy thud.

"Well well well. Seems like we had more than one cockroach to exterminate. No matter. Just know we will squash you."

Atlas felt his anger rising again as he stared at the woman lifeless form past the guards. No one moved to help her or remove her body. Before Atlas had a chance to reprimand the monsters, a loud crash hit the doors behind them. Those doors lead directly to the cells where their own army would exit.

The general's eyes widened in fear. This was a much welcome sight and suited the grumpy woman more than her usual scowl. She confronted one of the cuff bearers, practically shrieking as she spat in her face, "I thought we sent our other three remaining units to the cells for containment!"

Another thud hit the doors, bending the fragile metal.

"We did, general."

Her eyes grew impossibly wider as she turned to the guards. "Be prepared to fire! Do not let them escape!"

The banging grew insistent.

Atlas pulled Hope close and whispered to her, "We need to run. We can't get trampled too. Just stay low." Hope nodded, but she stayed quiet. The guards with cuffs advanced on the pair, shackling them as they had been commanded. They shoved them roughly towards the doors. One leaned in between them and hissed, "Watch your friends die. I'd kill you now if the general would let me."

Another crash. The doors wouldn't hold much longer.

"Shut the outer door," the matron commanded. A guard quickly shuffled her way to the stairs to press the button.

Atlas stared straight ahead. He watched the guards stand their ground and aim directly for the bursting metal. The electric wiring bit into his skin, causing him to grit his teeth.

Metal shot from the wall, revealing a gaping hole where a proud door once stood. Atlas inhaled sharply. There she was. The woman who he loved as his own mother. "Adira," he whispered the words quietly as if he said them too loud she would disappear. Despite the obvious weight loss, the woman looked as fierce as ever. A natural born leader.

Adira stepped through the hole to reveal the army around her. Hundreds―no― thousands of prisoners stood tall. They were scattered down the hallway and passed the corner. It was a wave of warriors ready to strike. Atlas watched in awe as Adira raised her fist in the air, followed by her army. In one mighty roar Adira screamed, "For the resistance!"

The hoad echoed her war cry in unison. The sound reverberated through every bone in Atlas' body. It was invigorating. It was powerful. It was the resistance.

The guards who stood in front of the door were now creeping backward and away from the mass. Their weapons remained raised, but were now shaking violently. Without warning, Adira led the charge running towards the gunman. In pure fear, the frontline shot towards the runners, but only brought down a few before being mowed down.

The sight brought Atlas back to Washington. He remembered the streets lined with the early formation of the resistance. Unrest had claimed the capital as the PI bill was run through congress. The people already knew what the outcome would be. And so, the fought, they rioted, and they failed to take back the city and stop the Purge initiative. That wouldn't happen this time, however. The swarm jumped head on into the guards. Many had turned tail and ran leaving only a small force to defend their line.

Just as the group bust through the front line, Atlas and Hope kicked at their captors and dove towards the exit. The doors were shutting now as the guard smashed the button. At this rate, only a few would be free. Atlas reached for a stray gun, careful to avoid the crowd. He couldn't grab hold of the weapon, so he quickly kicked it towards Adira. Making eye contact with the man, Adira scooped up the rifle and fired at the guard.

As far as Atlas could tell, the moving blows did not make contact, however, she released the button to cower, leaving the doors halfway opened. Atlas grinned at the woman as they ran side by side towards freedom. They had fought together many times, but this was by far the largest assault they had planned.

Atlas barrelled into the screaming general as she brandished her weapon. She was thrown into the multitude of legs, to be crushed by the weight of a thousand captives. It was a fitting end for a cruel shepherd: death by stampede.

The remaining guards had fled the building as the prisoners made a beeline into the grass and greenery. The breeze and fresh air licked at Atlas' face even through the head gear. The warm of the sun hitting the suit. They were finally free.