The lights in the shelter room were dim, only the flickering holographic screens providing faint illumination. Carl stood in the center, pale-faced, eyes hollow, as if every word he spoke was draining the last of his energy.
Eric faced him. Upright. Focused. There was no room for emotion now.
"Ferom 9 wasn't delivered along a single route," Carl said, his voice low but clear. "Clara split the shipment into several phases. The ship you saw was just bait. The real route used shadow brokers, underwater transit, and illegal ports that don't exist in any system."
He touched the panel. A map appeared. Red, blue, and yellow lines crisscrossed like a spiderweb.
"Target countries use codes," Carl continued. "These names aren't actual destinations. They're operation names. Chase one, and the others are already safe."
Eric tapped the recorder on his wrist. The green light blinked on.
"Continue," he said.
Carl swallowed. "The original Ferom 9 lab was destroyed long ago. But Clara kept the formula alive in living cell networks. Scientists, data carriers, couriers… kill one, the others keep moving."
Noah gritted his teeth. "Damn. So this really is war."
Carl nodded slowly. "And Clara is always one step ahead. But—" he paused, drawing a breath, "she'll appear herself when this operation reaches the final phase. She likes seeing the results of her work with her own eyes."
Eric turned off the recorder. "That's enough."
He faced Liam, Noah, and Levant. His tone changed. Harder. Sharper.
"We move now."
---
Their tactical vehicle cut through the darkness like a shadow. Engine low, lights off. Only the coordinates in their visors guided them.
Before they reached the target zone, the first shots rang out from the left.
"CONTACT!" Liam shouted.
The windshield cracked. Eric slammed the wheel. The car spun halfway before stopping abruptly behind a concrete ruin.
"Out!" Eric ordered.
They moved in unison. Bullets hammered the walls. Noah rolled, firing back at armed silhouettes on the roof.
"Enemies moving in formation!" Noah yelled. "Not just random thugs!"
Levant lunged forward, knife ready. An attacker leapt from above. Levant met him with a shoulder strike, knife piercing the ribs. Blood spattered. The body fell silently.
Eric surged into a narrow corridor. Two enemies appeared. One fell to a precise chest shot. The second swung his weapon, but Eric was already too close. An elbow hit, bone cracked. The weapon clattered to the floor.
A small explosion shook the back area.
"Perimeter breached!" Liam radioed.
"Keep pressing!" Eric replied. "Don't let them encircle us!"
They moved like machines. Every corner cleared. Every shadow verified. Heavy breaths. Sweat and blood mingled, indistinct whose was whose.
In the distance, a false siren wailed. Smoke filled the area. This wasn't just an attack—it was a delay tactic.
Eric realized it.
"Clara knows we're coming," he murmured, mostly to himself.
A bullet nearly grazed his head. Eric dropped, rolled, firing back without hesitation. The attacker fell.
When the gunfire finally subsided, the area fell silent again. Only spent shells and bodies remained.
Noah swayed slightly, shoulder bleeding. Liam steadied him.
"I'm fine," Noah huffed. "Not dead yet."
Eric stood amid the chaos, chest heaving, eyes still sharp.
"This is just the beginning," he said. "If Clara sent troops like this, it means we're really close."
He glanced down the dark corridor ahead.
"And when we find her," Eric continued, voice low but resolute, "no one will leave without scars."
In the distance, a figure stood high above, watching from the shadows.
The real battle hadn't started yet.
And everyone—aware or not—was moving toward an inevitable end.
---
The metal door behind them vibrated violently, pounded from outside. Repeated metal-on-metal strikes.
"They won't let us rest long," Noah said, still gasping.
Eric raised a hand—a silent signal. He scanned the space. Old warehouse. Stacked wooden crates. Narrow paths left and right. Flickering ceiling lights on the verge of death. The perfect ambush site.
"Consider this a temporary clear zone," Eric said. "But don't lower your weapons."
Carl stood slightly behind, jaw tight. Silent, but it was clear his mind hadn't stopped. Every small noise made him turn.
Before anyone could move far, a side door slammed open.
Three attackers charged in simultaneously.
"Contact!" Levant shouted.
The fight erupted at close range. No time to shoot; it became body strikes and melee weapons. Eric dodged a metal swing, countering with an elbow to the jaw. Bones cracked; the man staggered back.
Liam was pulled down but rolled and fired from the floor. One went down; the other pressed forward without hesitation.
Noah wrestled with a larger man. A knife nearly found his stomach before a shot from Carl hit the attacker squarely in the shoulder.
Noah staggered, shocked. "You—"
"Focus," Carl cut him off.
More kept coming. From the ceiling, behind crates, from narrow passages they hadn't noticed. This was no accident. The warehouse was designed to slow them.
Eric moved like a machine. Every step precise, every strike without hesitation. Yet the numbers kept rising.
"These aren't guards," Eric said. "They're expendable units."
"Clara sent them all at once," Liam said, jaw tight.
A small explosion erupted at the far end. Flames licked the wooden crates. Smoke began to fill the space.
"They want us to exit via a specific path," Levant said.
Eric scanned the surroundings. "Yes. And I don't like what's waiting at the end of that path."
Carl's voice suddenly cut through, low but firm. "If you take the left corridor, you'll run straight into the second control zone. Tighter. More people."
All eyes turned to him.
"How do you know?" Noah asked.
Carl didn't answer immediately. "Because I've been through it."
A brief silence. No time for questions.
"Fine," Eric decided quickly. "We split formation. Two to the right, two center. Don't stop."
They advanced, fighting as they moved. Every meter bought with energy, bullets, and small wounds. But no one fell.
Finally, the gunfire outside faded. The attackers began to retreat, as if their mission had only been to delay them.
Eric stopped in the middle of the warehouse, chest rising and falling.
"She's not here yet," he said. "This is just the first line."
Carl stood not far off, hands still covered in others' blood. His eyes momentarily empty.
"She wants us to get there," Carl said softly. "Just not the easy way."
Eric looked ahead, down the dark corridor they had yet to enter.
"It's fine," he said. "We fight our way first."