The restraints on Noir's shoulders and legs snapped open, leaving only the metal bands clamped tight around her waist and left arm. She pushed herself up, breathing hard, her eyes blazing blue and red.
Kaelith was still grappling with the female scientist, her hands smeared with blood from slicing her own skin while prying the locks apart—every surface she touched was stained red. Chaos swallowed the room. Noir tilted her head at the sight. One arm was free from the control current, though a loose cable still dangled from it. She whipped it hard; the wire instantly coiled around the scientist's throat and jerked tight, hurling her across the room. The woman slammed into the wall, her head striking with a sickening crack before she went limp. Noir slowly turned back to Kealith, her gaze cold—yet softened for the briefest second.
"Run… this place isn't for you."
"NO! I have to help everyone!" Kealith shouted, dragging herself closer to Noir.
Noir answered calmly.
"Go. I need you to do something more important."
Kaelith seemed to understand. She met Noir's steely eyes, bit her lip, then forced herself to retreat toward the side door.
At that very moment, a soldier charged in. Noir clenched her teeth, tore free the remaining cable with her right hand, and drove a kick straight into his chest. Bones cracked sharply; his massive body flew backward like a sandbag.
Blood rushed to her head. Her body was still weak—but her fighting instinct burned brighter than ever. Every movement she made carried lethal precision.
Far away in the basement, Aurel ground his teeth, fingers pounding the keyboard until the skin at his fingertips split. At last, he secured a secondary connection.
"Specter! Orion! Do you hear me? Noir's awake… but she's still weak. I'm opening a backup route in the west corridor—get her out at all costs! VOID has called reinforcements!"
Specter crouched behind a shield, sweat dripping to the floor.
"Copy! Keep the channel open, Aurel."
Orion let out a dry laugh, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, eyes gleaming through smoke and flame.
"Finally… the real fight begins."
Gunfire, steel, and pounding heartbeats fused together. Noir rose slowly, chains still clinging to her body like proof of torture—but her eyes no longer trembled.
The entire room shook as something powerful awakened within her…
The long days pinned to the experiment table hadn't just eroded her body—they had stirred something buried deep in her mind. Blurred fragments of the past—faces, voices calling her name, even nightmares—flickered through her thoughts, throwing her heartbeat into chaos.
When VOID troops stormed in, gunshots exploded through the lab. A stray bullet shattered the glass wall of a row of tanks filled with murky green fluid. Twisted experimental "bodies," half-human, half-monster, began to spill out.
Their shrill, horrifying cries echoed. The creatures staggered forward, reeking of chemicals, attacking blindly and spreading panic. VOID soldiers fired wildly to regain control, but the situation only unraveled further.
Seizing the chaos, Noir wrenched the cable coiled around her abdomen. Sparks burst outward, lighting up her face. She used it as a makeshift weapon, striking down two soldiers blocking her path. Specter closed in quickly, while Orion—moving with speed and a stolen blade—cut open a path.
"Move! This is our only chance!" Specter said, eyes locked ahead.
From the corner, Kaelith rushed in and took Noir's arm over her shoulder. Noir was briefly surprised that Kaelith had come back instead of running—but there was no time to think. The group pivoted and slipped into the smoke-filled corridor, trying to break through the encirclement.
Just when they thought they'd found an exit, rapid footsteps thundered behind them. From the darkness, Lysander emerged, his icy gaze like a blade pressed to the throat.
He didn't even bother cocking the gun. He simply rotated it lazily in his hand, voice low.
"You really think… you can take her that easily?"
For a split second, a shadow fell over them all. The shrieks of the warped entities, the piercing alarm sirens, the chill in Lysander's eyes—everything fused into a deadly labyrinth.
Noir froze. A sharp pain struck her chest as memories of Lysander during the "training" days flooded back. Rage and confusion flared in her eyes at once.
In the narrow corridor, the pounding boots of VOID troops blended with cracking gunfire, suffocating the air. As Kaelith supported Noir, she used a small dagger to pry loose the freezing locks one by one. Each time a chain hit the floor with a harsh clang, Noir's heart pounded harder—her hunger for freedom surging violently.
Specter and Orion turned back-to-back, facing Lysander. He advanced step by step, gaze sharp and unhurried, authority pressing down like a predator certain of victory.
"Orion, don't let him control the pace!" Specter growled, lunging forward. His blade flashed, slashing toward Lysander's firing line. Orion circled to support, sword carving cutting winds through the tight corridor. Fast. Controlled.
Lysander remained composed. He shifted aside, gun flipping smoothly as shots forced them back. Then he counterattacked—barely relying on the firearm at all. His body moved with terrifying agility. A dagger traced cold arcs through the cramped space: a punch to Specter's abdomen, a slice across Orion's arm. Nearly flawless. Within moments, blood seeped down Orion's shoulder, and Specter staggered as the gunstock smashed into his ribs, pain radiating sharply.
Aurel's urgent voice crackled in their ears.
"Don't let him reach Noir! Stall him—at least until I finish cracking the system!"
"You think we're not trying?!" Orion snarled, twisting his blade to block a lethal strike.
But Lysander was a storm. A brutal kick sent both men crashing into the wall. In a blink, he broke past them and landed before Kaelith and Noir. Metal clashed violently through the corridor.
Kaelith froze. Noir lifted her head, eyes hazy yet burning with anger. Lysander leveled his gun, cutting off their escape.
"Noir… did you really think escaping me would be that easy?" His voice was low, cold—threaded with dangerous possession.
The air seemed to freeze. Only the wail of sirens remained… and the frantic rhythm of every heartbeat.