It was Hunter's fault they were sitting here in a cell, guarded by the Coruscant Guards. They all had come back for Omega, but at what cost when they could have followed orders and returned, but not been trapped here like this?

He thought atleast this way. But it felt like the whole galaxy around him was against him. It was as if a shadow had settled over his thoughts, a whisper of something he had long tried to suppress.

Crosshair's gaze darted to his brothers—Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Echo. And to the other member of their team. They were strategizing. But for Crosshair, the urgency felt different. It was a cold, calculated instinct that began to rise within him, a compulsion that he had long been conditioned to obey. The inhibitor chip, dormant for so long, stirred to life in the depths of his mind. Even if he wasn't sure what it was yet.

Everything was starting to irritate him now. He sat down with an especially loud sound on the seat, sending dirty glares to the rest of the room.