~
Inside the first floor of the building—
The air was thick with heat and tension. Rows of towering crates loomed like iron giants, casting long shadows across the polished steel floor. Between them, VEX troops prowled like wolves on a scent—armor clinking softly, rifles gripped, eyes scanning. Every movement was calculated. Every breath sounded like a threat.
The perimeter was airtight. No doubt about it—they were guarding this place like they expected someone to break in. Maybe they already knew someone had.
Ashford's hand suddenly clamped down on my shoulder.
"Alright, let's go," he muttered behind me. His voice was low, almost a whisper, but there was no mistaking the urgency bleeding through it. He wanted to yell, but the moment didn't allow it.
I turned to him. His expression was carved from stone—brows knitted, jaw locked, and eyes laser-focused. He wasn't just ready to move—he was dying to.
Without another word, he started walking toward the entrance. No hesitation. No checking his corners. He was practically walking blind.
I lunged forward, grabbed his vest, and pulled him back.
"Wait!" I hissed. The word cracked in my throat, sharp and tight. I wanted to scream it, to shake him—but all I managed was a breathless warning.
Ashford turned his head slowly, side-eyeing me with a glare that could've ripped through concrete. His body stiffened like I'd just betrayed him.
"Julian," he said, voice as sharp as broken glass. "Do you understand that time doesn't wait? If we move any slower, they'll launch that abomination."
He wasn't wrong.
Every second we stood here… every breath we wasted…
Thousands of lives hovered on the edge of annihilation.
Still, I met his stare.
"You can't just walk in without a plan," I whispered, trembling with restraint. "What if you get caught?"
His lips curled into something between a grimace and a smirk.
"Better me than a city block."
That hit harder than it should've. He meant it. Every word.
But I couldn't let him go in blind—not when I could stop it.
"We need a plan," I said, voice low and heavy. "Even if we only have seconds."
He clenched his fists, knuckles whitening. His head dropped, gaze fixed on the floor. For a moment, the silence between us stretched thin. Then finally—
"Fine. Your way."
Ashford dropped low beside me, tense but willing to listen.
I crouched, pulse thundering in my ears. The whole floor stretched out like a maze. Crates, walkways, consoles, guards. VEX troops were moving in careful rhythm—patterns I had to memorize fast.
"There are too many. Direct assault is suicide," I said. "We blend in. That's the only way."
I made a quick hand signal, pointing toward a stack of crates near the entrance.
"We get to that crate first—stay low, use the shadows."
We sprinted, silent and sharp. Each step felt louder than it should've. Every breath a countdown.
We reached the crate and ducked behind it.
"We're in the middle-right of the floor," I whispered, scanning the area beyond. "Three guards patrolling nearby. Two more by the control console."
Then I saw it.
Across the room, tucked behind a series of reinforced crates—a control panel.
Its screen glowed red.
And beneath it—a countdown.
00:02:17.
Ashford followed my gaze. His eyes widened for just a second.
"They've already initiated the launch protocol," I whispered.
"We can still stop it," he said. "We have to."
My hand moved to my belt, fingers brushing over the EMP charge. It wasn't built to destroy, but it could disable electronics in a blast radius—enough to fry the countdown console. If we could get close enough.
I reached into my pouch and pulled it free.
"We throw this at the terminal. It buys us time—but we'll only get one shot. If it lands wrong, we fail."
Ashford nodded. "Then we don't miss."
Before I could hand it to him—
CLANG.
A crate somewhere behind us dropped with a metallic roar.
Spotlights snapped on.
"INTRUDERS!" someone yelled.
Alarms blared. Sirens screeched from the walls. Red lights bathed the room in warning.
We'd been spotted.
"MOVE!" Ashford barked, shoving me hard as bullets ripped through the air where we'd just crouched.
We dove behind another crate. The EMP charge was still in my hand, pulsing lightly in my grip.
I peeked through the gap.
Ten—no, fifteen soldiers were converging on our location.
"Ashford!" I shouted over the chaos. "We won't make it to the console like this!"
His eyes darted to the left, scanning.
"There's a catwalk above. If we get there, I might be able to throw the charge down from above!"
I nodded. "Go. I'll cover you."
He hesitated. "You sure?"
"GO!"
Ashford took off, sprinting through the chaos. I leaned out, firing suppressed shots from my pistol—aiming to distract, not kill. Every second I bought him was another second toward the console.
He scaled the side ladder fast, practically leaping up the rungs. The catwalk creaked beneath him as he sprinted across it.
The countdown was still ticking.
00:01:24.
I ducked low, bullets shattering the crate inches from my head.
Ashford reached the edge, the console finally in his sights.
He raised the EMP.
Then—
A laser dot appeared on his shoulder.
Sniper.
I shouted, but my voice was drowned by the gunfire.
Ashford saw it too late.
BANG.
He dropped behind the railing, clutching his arm.
The EMP slid across the catwalk, teetering dangerously close to the edge.
00:00:54.
I broke cover and ran. Didn't think. Didn't breathe. Just moved.
Shots tore past me—one grazed my leg, but I didn't stop.
Ashford yelled something, but I couldn't hear it. My eyes were locked on the catwalk.
If we didn't stop that timer—thousands would die.
I jumped, grabbed the ladder, and pulled myself up in a blur. Ashford was trying to crawl toward the EMP, blood trailing from his arm.
I grabbed it before it could fall, yanked the pin, and looked down at the console.
My breath held.
00:00:23.
Then I saw something else—something I hadn't noticed before.
A second console. Hidden behind another crate.
And another countdown.
00:00:22.
There were two launch points.
One EMP. One shot.
My hand shook as I realized the truth.
We were only going to be able to stop one.