SCP: "The Rise of The Administrator"90.74%

Chapter 94

Rio slowly woke up, his heavy eyelids lifting slowly. His head spun terribly, and an immense headache throbbed. He slowly looked around and discovered he was in a subway tunnel. The passage behind him was completely blocked by rubble. He tried to move and suddenly felt an immense pain piercing through his stomach. He looked down and saw a piece of pipe impaled through an opening in his vest.

He let out a loud scream before clenching his teeth. Grabbing the metal rod, he began pulling it out slowly, inch by inch. Each movement sent a wave of searing pain through his body, but he kept going, groaning and gritting his teeth with every agonizing centimeter.

Finally, he managed to pull out the metal rod, letting out a deep, shaky sigh. Breathing heavily, he grabbed his canteen, unscrewed the cap, and poured the cool liquid over his wound. The sudden sting made him wince sharply, and a string of curses escaped his lips. Blood was still pouring from the gaping injury, staining his hands and the floor beneath him.

Reaching into one of the pouches on his belt, he pulled out a roll of bandages. His hands trembled, slick with sweat and blood, as he pressed a sterile gauze pad onto the wound to stem the bleeding. He gritted his teeth, fighting through the pain, and wrapped the bandages tightly around his waist. The fabric quickly soaked through, but he kept wrapping layer upon layer, pulling the material taut to apply as much pressure as he could.

Every motion sent a jolt of pain radiating from his stomach, but he didn't stop until the bleeding began to slow. Breathing heavily, his forehead slick with sweat, he secured the bandage in place, leaning back against the tunnel wall to catch his breath. "That should hold," he muttered to himself, though his voice was strained and unsure.

He reached for his helmet and activated the built-in radio system. "Hunter-3-3 to Site Command. Do you read me?"

Only static crackled in response.

He tried again, his voice more urgent this time: "Site Command, do you hear me?"

The same lifeless hiss answered him. Frustration boiled over, and he slammed his fist against the wall next to him, ignoring the sharp sting in his knuckles. His breathing was heavy, uneven, as he glanced around the dimly lit tunnel.

The destruction was overwhelming. The path behind him was completely blocked by a mountain of rubble, leaving only one direction to go. The faint flicker of a distant emergency light illuminated the scene, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly.

His eyes landed on his rifle, lying on the ground near the metal rod that had impaled him. Gritting his teeth, he reached for it, dragging himself forward with effort. The cold steel of the weapon felt reassuring in his hands, a reminder that he wasn't entirely helpless.

Rio activated the flashlight attached to his helmet, its beam cutting through the oppressive darkness of the tunnel. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and began to move forward, each step careful and deliberate. The faint echoes of his boots against the rails reverberated in the eerie silence, the sound only amplifying the desolation around him.

His grip tightened on his rifle as he advanced, scanning his surroundings with sharp, cautious movements. The beam of light revealed broken cables hanging from the ceiling and scattered debris littering the tracks, remnants of the chaos that had unfolded.

He reached the edge of a station platform and was about to climb up when a faint noise stopped him in his tracks. Instinctively, Rio pressed himself against the cold wall, his breaths shallow as he advanced cautiously. Peering around the corner, he froze, his face losing all color.

The platform was teeming with infected, their disjointed movements and vacant stares creating an unsettling tableau. They shuffled aimlessly, some dragging broken limbs, others letting out guttural, inhuman groans. The faint stench of decay and blood lingered in the air, making his stomach churn.

Rio gripped his rifle tighter, his mind racing as he counted them. There were too many to fight, and a single noise could draw their attention straight to him.

Rio tightened his grip on his rifle and glanced down at the tracks. Crawling through the grimy rails beneath the platform seemed like the only way to slip past the horde unnoticed. Swallowing his apprehension, he lowered himself onto the rails, his every movement deliberate and slow. The cold metal beneath his body sent a shiver up his spine as he began inching forward on his elbows, careful to keep his rifle secured.

The groans and shuffling of the infected grew louder as he neared the platform. He focused on his breathing, steady and controlled, each exhale barely a whisper. His heart pounded in his chest, threatening to betray him with its deafening rhythm.

Halfway past the platform, he froze. A shadow fell over him, and a guttural snarl came from above. Slowly, his eyes darted upward. A zombie stood at the edge of the platform, its hollow, lifeless eyes scanning the tracks aimlessly.

Rio held his breath, his body rigid, as the creature leaned forward. Its decaying face loomed mere inches above him, the stench of rot nearly making him gag. For a terrifying moment, the zombie seemed to sniff the air, its milky eyes sweeping the area.

Time felt frozen, and Rio's muscles burned from the tension, but he didn't dare move. Finally, the creature let out a low groan and turned away, shambling back into the mass of infected.

Rio exhaled silently, relief washing over him like a tidal wave. He resumed his crawl, every muscle in his body screaming for speed, but he forced himself to stay slow and deliberate. The sound of his gear scraping against the rails was barely audible over the din of the horde.

After what felt like an eternity, he reached the far end of the platform. He pulled himself up and pressed his back against the cold concrete wall, taking a moment to catch his breath. The infected remained oblivious to his escape, their aimless groaning filling the air behind him.

Rio allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction. He had made it past the horde, silent, unseen, and alive.

Rio pressed forward, his boots barely making a sound as he trudged through the dark tunnels. The beam of his helmet light flickered across rusted tracks, broken cables, and crumbling walls. Each step echoed faintly, swallowed by the oppressive silence of the metro.

The first station he passed was eerily quiet, its platform dimly lit by a few failing emergency lights. Empty benches and overturned trash bins were the only signs of the chaos that had once swept through. He paused briefly, scanning the area with his rifle, but there was no movement.

The next station was worse. Corpses littered the tracks and platform, their twisted forms illuminated by the harsh glow of his lamp. Rio's stomach churned as he stepped over a severed arm, his boots crunching softly on shards of glass. He quickened his pace, not daring to linger.

Finally, the faint outlines of "Opéra" came into view, the station's sign barely legible through the grime and decay. Rio slowed his approach, crouching as he scanned the area ahead. The platform was dim, the silence broken only by the distant drip of water. His grip tightened on his rifle.

Suddenly, Rio froze as a voice echoed faintly through the tunnels:

"Hey, I heard something near the tunnels," someone said, their tone uncertain but alert.

Another voice answered, dismissive yet tinged with irritation. "Stop it, you're just being paranoid."

Rio instinctively pressed himself against the wall, his breath shallow and quiet. His helmet light clicked off with a soft tap, plunging him into near-total darkness. He tightened his grip on his rifle, his heart pounding against his ribs.

He dared not move, his mind racing as he weighed his options. Friend or foe? There was no way to tell, and he couldn't afford to take any chances. For now, silence and caution were his best allies.

The first voice spoke again, this time with a tone of frustration and longing:

"I just want to make some real contributions, you know? I heard Delta Command is focused on this operation, and it's the perfect chance to get promoted to Delta Class. Maybe even Gamma if I'm lucky. I'm tired of being just a conscript insurgent. We're nothing but expendable."

The second voice responded mockingly:

"Ha! You, a Delta? Let me laugh, haha. With the number of operators on this operation, good luck with that."

The first snapped back defensively, his voice tinged with determination:

"I still have a chance! This whole op is under Commander Warlord's leadership. Rumor has it, he's one of the Engineer's 20 lieutenants."

The second hissed sharply, cutting him off:

"SHHHT! Don't say that name so carelessly!"

Rio's breath caught. The Engineer… The name sent a chill through him. The implications were vast and dire. He clung tightly to the wall, every instinct urging him to stay hidden as the conversation continued.

Suddenly, a voice crackled over a radio:

"To all units, this is Warlord. Those Foundation dogs have finally decided to show themselves and are launching a frontal assault on the Opéra. Show them that the Insurgency is better than they are."

Before Rio could process the information, another voice echoed through the tunnels, accompanied by the steady rhythm of boots approaching:

"You two, with me. We're heading to reinforce the metro entrance."

The two voices from earlier responded in unison:

"Yes, Sir!"

The sound of boots grew louder, then gradually faded as the group moved away. Rio remained perfectly still, waiting until the echoes of their departure were completely gone. His heart pounded in his chest. A frontal assault?

Rio carefully scanned his surroundings to ensure no one was nearby, then activated his helmet's comms system and whispered, "Site Command, this is Hunter-3-3, do you copy?"

His earpiece crackled to life, but instead of a response, he heard bursts of gunfire and several frantic voices:

"Keep pushing forward! Don't let the infected get close! First squad, move across the rooftops! Sixth squad, stay parallel with them on the ground! We need to reach that damn opera house as fast as possible!"

Rio tried again, his voice sharper but still hushed, "Site Command, Hunter-3-3, do you read me?"

Silence.

He frowned and checked his helmet. After a quick inspection, he realized the problem: his microphone was damaged.

"Damn nerds of the Foundation," he muttered under his breath, his frustration boiling over. "I swear, when I get back, I'm personally coming for you."

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Rio adjusted his gear and prepared to move forward, his focus sharpened. The comms failure meant he was completely on his own for now.

Rio pressed himself against the edge of the platform, keeping his movements slow and deliberate as he crawled forward. Each shift of his body sent fresh waves of pain radiating from his wound, the burning sensation intensifying with every inch he gained. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he gritted his teeth, determined to push through.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally reached the supposed service entrance to the Palais Garnier. A solid steel door loomed in front of him, inconspicuous except for a small access panel on its side.

He cautiously reached for the handle and tried to turn it. It didn't budge. Locked.

Rio frowned, pulled out his multi-tool from a pouch on his vest, and unfolded the lockpick set. Glancing over his shoulder to ensure he wasn't being watched, he knelt closer to the lock and inserted the tension wrench. His hands worked methodically, probing the pins inside with practiced precision.

"Come on, come on…" he muttered under his breath, his fingers trembling slightly from the pain and exhaustion.

After a few tense moments, the lock gave a faint click. He exhaled sharply, relief washing over him. Carefully, he gripped the door handle and began to push it open just enough to peek inside.

That's when he noticed it.

His eyes caught the faintest glint of a thin wire running along the inside of the doorframe, nearly invisible in the dim light. His stomach sank as he traced the wire with his gaze to a small, improvised explosive device mounted on the inside of the wall.

"Clever bastards…" he muttered.

Rio shifted his multi-tool back into a pair of wire cutters and examined the setup. The tripwire was taut, connected to a pressure-sensitive detonator. Disarming it would require precision, and a steady hand, something that felt like a cruel joke in his current state.

Steeling himself, he anchored his flashlight against his helmet to keep both hands free. Slowly, he clamped the wire cutters around the tripwire, ensuring not to put any additional tension on it. His breathing slowed, his focus narrowing entirely on the task.

Snip.

The wire severed cleanly, and Rio froze, waiting for any sign of an unexpected detonation. Nothing. He exhaled quietly, his hands still trembling slightly as he disabled the detonator entirely, removing its battery and stuffing it into one of his pouches.

He pushed the door open fully now, sweeping the room beyond with his flashlight. The space ahead was dark and silent, the faint echoes of distant noises reverberating through the tunnel. He pressed his hand against his wound, grimacing as he pushed through the pain.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the doorway, his rifle raised and ready for whatever might come next.

Rio began to advance cautiously and soon spotted a staircase. Keeping his rifle raised, he climbed each step with measured precision, his movements slow and deliberate. At the top, he found a door.

Placing his ear against it, he froze as the sound of hurried footsteps and sharp voices echoed on the other side. Shadows flitted beneath the door, accompanied by the noise of equipment being moved and orders being shouted.

He quietly set his pack down and retrieved a snake camera, connecting it to his service phone. Lowering himself to the floor, he slid the camera under the door and held his breath as the screen illuminated. His eyes widened in shock.

Rio crouched behind one of the ornate pillars of the grand theater, blending into the shadows as best he could. His breathing was shallow, his movements minimal. The once-opulent Salle de Spectacle had been transformed into a warzone logistics hub.

Military equipment was strewn across the gilded floors, crates of ammunition, communication arrays, and makeshift barricades. Soldiers in tactical gear moved about briskly, some assembling weapons while others coordinated on radios. Scattered among them were researchers, distinguishable by their lab coats and focused demeanor as they monitored devices and checked papers.

The room buzzed with activity, orders being barked and preparations underway. Rio's grip on his rifle tightened as he studied the scene, his mind racing.

Suddenly, the sharp sound of multiple explosions erupted from outside, shaking the very foundations of the Palais Garnier. The walls trembled, and chandeliers swayed precariously as a cacophony of gunfire and shouting engulfed the air. Dust and debris rained lightly from the ceiling, amplifying the chaos.

Rio pressed himself tighter against the pillar, heart pounding, waiting for the perfect moment to move.

Rio reactivated his radio and listened to the frantic exchanges:

"ALL UNITS, HOSTILE ARMED CONTACT CONFIRMED. FIRE AT WILL. WIPE THESE BASTARDS OUT!"

The airwaves erupted with gunfire and shouted orders, but suddenly, the static and voices were replaced by a calm, robotic tone:

"Agent Rio, i am the AI Kira, I have detected your position and vital signs. Please confirm your employee code."

Rio's jaw tightened in frustration as he instinctively reached for his radio. Then he remembered, his microphone was still broken. Swearing under his breath, he quickly pulled out his service phone and began typing out messages, feeding the information back into the system manually.

The voice continued, unperturbed:

"Identity confirmed: Hunter-3-3. I have accessed your tactical camera feed and am now connecting it to a Foundation operator. Please hold."

Rio's pulse quickened as he waited, still crouched in the shadow of the pillar. Outside, the battle raged on, the thunder of explosions and gunfire shaking the opera house to its core.

Another voice came through the radio, calm and focused:

"Hunter-3-3, this is Analyst Jacob. I've accessed your tactical camera feed. Kira informs me that you've made it inside the Palais Garnier. Is that correct?"

Rio raised his phone in front of his helmet's camera and typed a single word: Yes.

Jacob's voice returned after a brief pause:

"It seems you're experiencing communication issues. Is that correct?"

Rio sighed in frustration and typed: Micro broken.

Jacob acknowledged the message immediately:

"Ah, I understand. In that case, I'll send you a phone number. Connect your headset to your phone, and it will serve as a makeshift radio. However, keep in mind that once connected, you'll only be able to communicate with me."

Rio nodded silently, his fingers already poised over his phone, ready to follow the instructions. The explosions outside grew louder, a stark reminder of the urgency of his mission.

Jacob provided a phone number, his voice steady despite the chaos outside. Rio quickly jotted it down, his movements precise and methodical despite the pain from his injury.

He connected his phone to his headset and adjusted the settings. A moment later, Jacob's voice came through again, clear and calm:

"Can you speak now?"

Rio hesitated for a second, testing the connection. Then he replied, his voice strained but functional:

"Affirmative. I think so."

The subtle relief in Jacob's tone was evident as he responded:

"Good. Let's get you through this, Agent."

Jacob let out a small sigh and said: "Your detachment had to turn back because the passage collapsed. They regrouped with forces from another JTF detachment and a PENTAGRAM unit that parachuted into the Louvre. They're currently launching an assault on the opera, as you might have guessed."

Rio groaned: "No kidding, I hadn't figured that out."

Jacob replied: "Charming. Anyway, what is your current status?"

Rio answered: "Me? Oh, everything is just perfect in my life. I've only had a metal bar shoved through my stomach, I'm in hostile territory trapped in the enemy's command post, and I'm bleeding out like a fountain. Couldn't be better."

Jacob replied: "At least your sense of humor hasn't taken a hit. Rio, do you feel up to completing one last mission?"

Rio: "Tell me more."

Jacob said: "I believe you might have seen some metal barrels emitting some sort of gas."

Rio: "Yeah, I saw them on the stage."

Jacob responded: "Your objective is to secure as many of them as possible. If that's not feasible, at least make sure they can't evacuate them."

Rio replied: "Are you kidding me? There are at least 200 enemies in this room, and I'm alone, injured, and extremely limited in my abilities."

There was a brief silence before Jacob said: "Agent, hold on for a moment."

Suddenly, the walls trembled even more violently, and a series of deafening explosions echoed from outside. One of the soldiers barked something Rio couldn't make out, and in an instant, all the insurgents rushed outside, leaving only three guards, their commanding officer, and the researchers working frantically on the machines in the room.

A voice came through his headset: "Agent, I requested your commander to escalate the assault after explaining your situation. The room should now be nearly empty."

Rio let out a sigh of relief and replied: "Confirmed. Only non-combatives, three guards, and a commander remain."

Jacob replied: "Good to know. You know what to do. Neutralize the last three combatants and capture their commander. If that's impossible, eliminate him. No mercy for the insurgents."

Rio answered: "Understood."

He readied his weapon, checked his remaining ammunition, and took a deep breath. Gripping a flash grenade, he quietly opened the door just enough to slip it through. He pulled the pin, counted a few seconds, and hurled it toward the four targets.

The grenade exploded in a blinding flash of light, eliciting panicked shouts and disoriented cries.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Rio burst into the room with precise and deadly efficiency. His first shot struck one guard in the chest, sending him sprawling. The second guard, clutching his eyes and staggering, became the next target. Rio fired twice, ensuring the insurgent fell.

The third guard, realizing the situation, tried to raise his weapon, but Rio's aim was faster. A single round hit the soldier square in the head, dropping him instantly.

The commander, still blinking away the disorientation, began to fumble for his sidearm, but Rio didn't give him a chance. He lunged forward, tackling the man with full force. Both of them hit the ground hard, Rio pinning the commander beneath him. The insurgent struggled, throwing punches and yelling, but Rio slammed his forearm into the man's throat, cutting off his protests.

"Don't move, or I make it quick," Rio hissed, his gun pressed against the commander's temple.

The commander, his face concealed by a featureless mask, stared down at Rio in silence.

Then, without warning, his fist shot forward with impossible speed, slamming into Rio's chest and sending him flying backward. Rio crashed heavily into a row of seats, the impact forcing a painful grunt from him as he spat blood onto the carpeted floor.

Still holding his fist aloft, the commander rose slowly from his position, his movements deliberate and menacing. His laugh echoed through the hall like a thunderclap.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA! FOOLISH WORM! DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD DEFEAT ME WITH SUCH PATHETIC MEANS? HAHAHAHAHA! YOUR FOUNDATION TRULY BREEDS IDIOTS!"

Rio groaned, clutching his ribs as the ringing in his ears drowned out the tail end of the mocking laughter. He could feel the burning pain spreading through his chest, but he forced himself to glare at the towering figure before him. "Who the hell is this guy?" he thought, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Rio, gritting his teeth through the searing pain coursing through his body, yanked his pistol from its holster. He leveled it at the commander and pulled the trigger, unloading his entire magazine in a matter of seconds.

The bullets struck their target with precision, but instead of piercing flesh, they ricocheted off the commander's forearms, which he had raised defensively. Sparks flew with each impact, revealing glimpses of metallic plating beneath his clothing.

Rio's eyes widened as the truth hit him, this wasn't just a man. Beneath the commander's garments was a robotic exoskeleton, its sleek design faintly visible between tears in the fabric.

The commander smirked behind his mask, lowering his arms as he took a step closer to Rio.

"Well, well," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "The little pup thinks it can bite the big dogs, does it? Let me put you down. I've always enjoyed teaching aggressive mutts their place."

Rio staggered to his feet, his body screaming in protest, every movement a fresh wave of agony. Blood dripped from his mouth as he glared at the towering figure.

"Who the hell are you?" he spat, his voice hoarse but defiant.

The commander stepped forward, his imposing metallic frame reflecting the dim light of the hall.

"Warlord," he declared, his voice reverberating with unshakable authority. "Of the Chaos Insurgency. And today, I am your executioner."

Rio braced himself, his legs wobbling as the sheer force of Warlord's presence pressed down on him. His chest heaved, each breath sending stabbing pain through his torso. He could feel the blood pooling under his vest, the open wound in his stomach a fiery reminder of how much this fight was against the odds.

Warlord moved.

Not walked, not ran, he blurred forward. A single moment Rio was staring at the figure several meters away, and the next, Warlord was upon him.

Rio barely managed to raise his weapon, firing off a single desperate shot. The bullet struck Warlord's chest, but it glanced off harmlessly, ricocheting into the distance with a sharp ping.

Before Rio could react, Warlord's fist collided with his ribcage. The impact sent him flying backward, crashing against a pillar with a sickening crunch. He gasped as the air left his lungs, the pain in his ribs amplifying tenfold.

"Pathetic," Warlord scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "You Foundation dogs are all the same. All bark, no bite."

Rio gritted his teeth, forcing himself to his feet despite the screaming protest of his battered body. He wiped blood from his mouth with a shaky hand and reached for his knife, it was all he had left.

Warlord tilted his head mockingly. "A blade? Oh, how quaint."

Rio lunged, the knife gleaming in the faint light as he aimed for a gap in Warlord's armor near his neck. But Warlord moved faster than Rio could process, sidestepping with inhuman speed and grabbing Rio's wrist mid-swing.

The commander squeezed.

Rio screamed as he felt the bones in his wrist creak under the immense pressure. Warlord yanked him forward and slammed a knee into Rio's stomach, sending him crashing to the floor.

"This isn't a fight," Warlord taunted, looming over him like an unstoppable force of nature. "This is an execution."

But Rio wasn't done yet. Gritting his teeth through the blinding pain, he reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a flash grenade. With a flick of his thumb, he primed it and hurled it at Warlord's face.

The room exploded with light, a deafening bang echoing through the chamber.

Warlord roared in surprise, stumbling back as his advanced optics struggled to recalibrate.

Rio took the momentary distraction to roll away, dragging himself behind another pillar. His breathing was ragged, his vision blurred, but his mind raced.

"Think, damn it," he muttered to himself, clutching his side. "He's faster, stronger, better protected… I need an opening."

Warlord's voice boomed through the room, angered but undeterred. "Hiding won't save you, little pup! You only delay the inevitable!"

Rio gripped his knife tightly, his mind searching desperately for a way to turn the tide against a seemingly invincible foe.

Warlord's heavy footsteps echoed through the chamber, each one a reminder of Rio's desperate plight. The commander's shadow stretched across the room, swallowing every hiding spot Rio could think of.

"Do you hear that, little dog?" Warlord mocked, his voice cold and calculating. "It's the sound of inevitability. Come out, and I might make this quick."

Rio leaned against the pillar, clutching his side as blood seeped between his fingers. His knife felt woefully inadequate against Warlord's relentless strength and impenetrable armor. His mind raced, replaying every lesson from past missions, every tactic, but none of them applied to a situation like this.

Then came silence.

No footsteps. No mocking voice. Just an oppressive, suffocating stillness.

Rio's instincts screamed at him to move. He ducked low and darted to the next pillar, his movements hampered by his injuries. As he reached cover, he risked a glance over his shoulder, and froze.

Warlord was gone.

Rio's pulse quickened as he scanned the room, sweat dripping into his eyes. He clutched his pistol tightly, the empty weapon serving more as a comfort than a tool.

"Looking for me?"

The voice came from above.

Rio's eyes shot upward just in time to see Warlord descending from the ceiling. The commander landed with a deafening crash, his fist smashing into the ground where Rio had been a second earlier. The impact sent shards of marble flying in all directions, and Rio was thrown backward, landing hard on his side.

He scrambled to his feet, groaning through clenched teeth. Warlord turned to face him, his mechanical frame gleaming under the faint light of the chamber.

"I grow tired of this game," Warlord growled, his voice low and menacing. "Enough running."

Warlord charged, moving with a speed that defied his size. Rio barely managed to throw himself to the side, rolling awkwardly as Warlord's fist smashed into another pillar, shattering it into rubble.

Rio staggered upright, gripping his knife with both hands. He knew he couldn't match Warlord in strength or speed, but he needed to buy time, needed to think.

Warlord came at him again, this time feinting a punch before sweeping his leg low. Rio couldn't react in time and was swept off his feet, crashing to the ground with a grunt.

Before he could recover, Warlord's foot came down on his chest, pinning him in place. The weight was unbearable, and Rio felt his ribs creak under the pressure.

"You've wasted enough of my time," Warlord snarled, raising his arm. A blade extended from his forearm, its edge gleaming menacingly. "Any last words, Foundation dog?"

Rio's hand fumbled at his vest. He found what he was looking for, a smoke grenade. With the last of his strength, he pulled the pin and let it roll between them.

The chamber filled with thick, choking smoke, obscuring everything. Warlord snarled in frustration, momentarily distracted as his sensors recalibrated.

Rio took the opportunity to squirm free, coughing as he dragged himself away from the commander. His vision blurred, his body screaming in protest, but he forced himself to keep moving.

The smoke began to clear, and Rio ducked behind another piece of rubble. He could hear Warlord's heavy breathing, the sound of metal scraping against stone as the commander searched for him.

"You're only delaying the inevitable," Warlord growled, his tone laced with irritation. "I'll find you, and when I do, there won't be enough left of you to identify."

Rio clenched his teeth, his mind racing. His resources were almost gone, his body on the verge of collapse, but he refused to give up.

Warlord's voice echoed through the chamber again. "You can't hide forever, little dog. I'll rip this entire room apart if I have to."

Rio pressed his back against the rubble, his breathing shallow. His hand brushed against a loose chunk of marble, and an idea formed in his mind. Desperate, reckless, but it was all he had.

He picked up the piece of rubble and hurled it across the room. It clattered noisily, drawing Warlord's attention.

"There you are!" Warlord roared, charging toward the sound.

Rio used the distraction to move, slipping around the commander's flank. He knew it was only a matter of time before Warlord caught him again, but for now, he had a few precious seconds to plan his next move.

The situation was grim. His injuries were severe, his weapons ineffective, and his opponent relentless. But Rio wasn't ready to give up, not yet.

Suddendly, Warlord grabbed Rio by the throat, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. Rio's body dangled limply, his strength utterly drained, blood dripping from his wounds and pooling beneath him. The Insurgent's mechanical grip tightened, eliciting a choked gasp from Rio as he struggled to breathe.

"You've fought well for a mutt," Warlord sneered, his voice laced with mockery. "But playtime is over. Let's see how much you can endure before you beg for death."

With a single motion, Warlord ripped the rifle slung over Rio's shoulder, his augmented fingers crushing it into useless scraps of metal and polymer. He tossed it aside as though it were trash. Rio's sidearm was next; the commander plucked it from its holster and snapped it in two with frightening ease. One by one, every piece of gear Rio carried met the same fate, his tactical helmet, his communication device, even the knife strapped to his thigh.

Helplessly watching the destruction of his equipment, Rio's fury burned, but his body refused to respond. Every attempt to fight back was met with another agonizing jolt of pain.

"I'll make this last," Warlord said coldly. He threw Rio to the ground like a discarded toy, his heavy boots thudding ominously as he approached. Grabbing Rio's left leg, he placed a foot on his thigh and twisted sharply. The sickening snap echoed through the chamber, followed by Rio's agonized scream.

He tried to crawl away, but Warlord wasn't done. The commander seized his other leg, repeating the cruel act. Rio's world spun in a haze of pain; his vision blurred, and his breathing grew ragged.

"You can't run from me now, little dog," Warlord taunted. "I want you to feel the punishment for standing against me."

With Rio incapacitated, Warlord turned his attention to a set of metallic canisters standing ominously near the center of the room. A red warning label marked with the SAPPHIRE's insignia stood out clearly on each one.

"What's this?" Warlord said mockingly as he strode toward the canisters. "Something you dogs wanted to keep us from using it ? But well, I think we can make excellent use of this."

He tore away the safety mechanism on one of the devices with mechanical precision, exposing a control panel. A cruel smile spread across his face as he began inputting a series of commands.

"No," Rio croaked, his voice barely audible. "Don't…"

Ignoring him completely, Warlord pressed a final button, and a low hiss began emanating from the canister. A cloud of greenish gas started seeping out, spreading across the room like a living entity.

"Let's see how you like dying slowly, consumed from the inside," Warlord declared, stepping closer to Rio. "I'll make sure your end is just as pitiful as your efforts to stop me."

The gas crept closer, a visible reminder of Rio's impending doom. His mind raced, but his broken body refused to obey. As Warlord loomed over him, the commander's laughter filled the room, a sound of triumph and cruelty that echoed endlessly in Rio's ears.

Suddenly, Rio's body trembled, overwhelmed by an insatiable hunger, but he cried because he knew his fate, he was going to become a zombie. He saw Warlord watching him with a mocking look. Then, suddenly, Rio remembered something. He saw the body of one of the insurgents and moved toward it. Warlord continued to watch him with an amused expression.

Then, Rio weakly said, "You know, Warlord. Did you know that the gas containing SCP-008 is extremely flammable?" He then grabbed the insurgent's grenade.

Warlord realized the threat and suddenly shouted, "NO, DON'T- !"

Then Rio pulled the pin.

A tense silence filled the air for a brief moment after Rio pulled the pin. Then, with a deafening roar, the grenade erupted. A blinding flash of light illuminated the room, followed by a shockwave that sent debris flying in all directions. The gas, highly volatile, ignited instantly, spreading the fire like a wave across the room. The flames crawled along the floor and walls, rapidly consuming the air in a massive inferno. The heat intensified, and the sound of the explosion was deafening, as if the entire Palais Garnier had been torn apart. The fireball expanded, swallowing everything in its path, turning the once majestic building into a fiery tomb.

The explosion cascaded through the corridors and chambers, setting the entire structure ablaze, as if the very foundations of the Palais Garnier were being consumed. Metal twisted and cracked, stone shattered, and the flames roared, reaching higher and higher, until the building was engulfed in a cataclysmic blaze. The fire's fury spread throughout the entire building, leaving nothing but scorched remains in its wake.

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