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       #Post#: 20439--------------------------------------------------
       RIFTS Earth Story: Act II – Fort Purity
       By: Raven Tepes Date: October 16, 2025, 11:47 pm
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       “Silence is the sharpest weapon. Sound is its echo.” – Feling
       Tigress
       ---
       The storm began an hour after midnight.
       Blue ley lightning forked across the sky, striking the broken
       husks of skyscrapers and turning the night into flashes of
       violent brilliance. The air hummed with static and magic—a
       perfect cover for ghosts.
       And tonight, the ghosts wore tiger stripes.
       Feling Tigress and her small squad crept through the industrial
       graveyard north of Fort Purity. Rain fell in metallic sheets,
       sizzling where it struck old rebar. Their hovertrucks sat
       camouflaged under tattered tarps a kilometer back, silent
       sentinels waiting for a signal that might never come.
       Ahead, Fort Purity loomed like a steel scar on the land.
       A towering wall of armor plating, reinforced with vibro-concrete
       and warding sigils carved by captive mages. Turrets scanned the
       horizon, each one armed with railguns capable of slicing through
       a Glitter Boy suit. The Coalition’s skull insignia glowed pale
       white on the fortress gates—an omen of death.
       Feling crouched at the mouth of the old pipeline access, her fur
       slicked with rain. The tunnel entrance yawned before her like
       the throat of some ancient beast.
       Behind her, Dax checked the charges on his pack and grinned.
       “Always wanted to crawl into a sewage line under a fascist death
       fortress. Livin’ the dream.”
       Ryn, her eyes aglow with ley energy, traced sigils along the
       tunnel rim. “I’ve dampened the sound around us. Even the
       psi-hounds won’t hear us move.”
       Feling nodded once, her ears flicking. “Stay close. We move fast
       and quiet.”
       “Quiet,” Dax muttered, “she says, right before she breaks the
       sound barrier.”
       Tarn, the psi-stalker, bared his teeth in amusement. “Pray she
       doesn’t break you, Dax.”
       The half-borg raised his hands. “Fair point.”
       The tunnel was half-flooded, reeking of rust and decay. Every
       step sent ripples through the stagnant water, but Ryn’s spell
       absorbed even that sound. Bioluminescent fungi clung to the
       walls, painting everything in an eerie blue light.
       Feling led the way, claws extended, each finger morphing
       subtly—half metal, half muscle. Her body was alive with
       low-frequency vibrations that pulsed in rhythm with her
       heartbeat. She could feel the layout of the tunnel, the
       breathing of her teammates, even the distant thrum of Fort
       Purity’s generators through the concrete.
       After twenty minutes, they reached the junction chamber. Dax
       knelt beside a rusted grate and began planting explosives.
       “Charges set to blow outward. Give us a nice, loud welcome.”
       Feling crouched beside him. “No loud until I say.”
       Dax blinked. “You? Asking for quiet?”
       She smiled faintly. “Tigers stalk before they strike.”
       They emerged inside the lower maintenance wing of Fort Purity.
       The walls were spotless steel, humming with power conduits.
       Through the grated floors, the base’s reactor core glowed with
       dangerous beauty.
       Feling raised a hand and the team froze.
       Her ears twitched. Footsteps. Two guards. Dog Boys.
       She motioned silently—two fingers forward. Tarn melted into
       shadow.
       The guards rounded the corner, their canine senses sniffing the
       air. “Something’s off,” one growled. “Power’s flickering again.”
       Before he could finish, Tarn lunged. His psi-blades ignited with
       psychic flame, and in one fluid motion he slashed through both
       helmets. The bodies dropped soundlessly.
       Feling nodded her approval. “Drag them out of sight.”
       Ryn’s runes flared briefly as she sealed the air vents with
       silence. “Ley surge in three minutes,” she whispered. “That’s
       our window.”
       “Then we move,” Feling ordered.
       The corridors of Fort Purity were a maze of polished
       oppression—skull emblems, propaganda holoscreens, and rows of
       containment cells. Through reinforced glass, Feling saw
       prisoners: D-Bees, mutants, even children. Some barely clung to
       life.
       Her claws flexed. “Ryn, unlock them.”
       The ley line walker nodded, touching her staff to the control
       panel. Blue light raced along the circuits, overriding the
       Coalition encryption. The cell doors hissed open one by one.
       A reptilian D-Bee with broken scales stepped out, blinking in
       disbelief. “Who… who are you?”
       Feling met his gaze. “Someone who remembers what it means to be
       free.”
       Cheers and whispers rippled through the prisoners, but Feling
       raised a hand for silence. “There are more to save. Get to the
       tunnel. Follow the light markers. Ryn will lead you once we
       breach the upper level.”
       Alarms blared before they reached the reactor shaft.
       Inquisitor Marrek—Coalition’s “specialist”—appeared on a
       holo-screen above them. His face was half-metal, half-righteous
       fury. “You think we don’t see you, beast? Project Felidae.
       Property of Akira. Escaped experiment. Return to containment or
       be exterminated.”
       Feling’s ears flattened, her voice a low growl. “You can’t
       contain what was born to roar.”
       Marrek sneered. “Then die like the animal you are.”
       The floor shook as containment doors slammed down. Armored
       soldiers poured in, rifles raised. Dog Boys howled.
       Feling turned to Dax. “Light it.”
       “Gladly.”
       The charges detonated. The shockwave tore open the reactor
       corridor, bathing the soldiers in smoke and debris. Feling
       vanished into the chaos—a streak of white lightning moving
       faster than thought. Her claws transformed into twin
       vibro-blades as she carved through armor and steel alike.
       Gunfire filled the air, but she was untouchable. Sound bent
       around her, each footstep a sonic distortion that deflected
       bullets and shredded visors.
       Ryn lifted her staff and unleashed a surge of ley energy,
       binding the enemy in tendrils of blue fire. Tarn leapt from
       shadow to shadow, cutting down psi-hounds before they could
       focus.
       It was over in seconds.
       But the victory was short-lived.
       From the reactor pit rose a hulking figure in black power
       armor—Marrek himself, descending like a demon of metal and
       flame. His armor was twice the size of a SAMAS suit, powered by
       a psionic feedback core. The Coalition emblem on his chest
       pulsed with crimson light.
       He pointed a gauntleted hand at Feling. “You should have stayed
       in your cage.”
       Feling crouched low, her tail flicking. “You should have stayed
       in yours.”
       He fired first—a beam of psionic energy that cr@cked the floor
       where she’d stood. Feling blurred sideways, the sonic boom
       rattling the walls. She retaliated with a focused roar, a
       shockwave that dented his armor and hurled debris across the
       chamber.
       Marrek recovered, advancing through the storm. “Impressive, but
       I was built to hunt your kind.”
       Feling’s eyes glowed bright green. “Then let’s see if your kind
       can bleed.”
       They collided in a burst of light and sound—claws against
       vibro-blade, plasma against sonic resonance. Every strike echoed
       like thunder. Dax’s sensors overloaded trying to track them. Ryn
       shielded the team as shockwaves cr@cked the walls.
       Feling’s limbs shifted mid-fight—arms morphing into sonic
       cannons that pulsed with blue-white light. She fired point-blank
       into Marrek’s chest, the soundwave liquefying armor plating and
       tearing open his psionic core.
       He staggered back, sparks flying. “You think… you’ve won?”
       Feling stood tall amid the smoke, her fur scorched, eyes
       blazing. “I don’t think. I know.”
       Her final roar shattered his armor completely—his body
       disintegrating into ash and echo.
       The alarms died. The prisoners had escaped. The reactor was
       under their control.
       Feling turned to her team, chest heaving but triumphant. “Plant
       the charges. We’re bringing Purity down.”
       Ryn smiled through exhaustion. “You mean up in smoke.”
       Dax whooped. “Music to my ears.”
       Tarn just nodded. “You’ve earned your roar tonight, boss.”
       Feling looked to the fortress ceiling, where the Coalition flag
       hung above them. She raised one claw, transformed it into a
       blade, and sliced it clean in half.
       As the banner fell into the reactor fires, she whispered:
       “Let them hear us.”
       The explosion that followed could be heard for miles—rolling
       thunder over the Great Lakes. And within that thunder was the
       unmistakable echo of a tiger’s roar.
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