Racing Against Time

The tension in the air was palpable. Adam and his team stood frozen, their eyes locked onto the armored figures emerging from the shadows. The dimly lit corridor flickered with red warning lights, casting eerie shadows on the metal walls.

The figures were clad in black tactical gear, their helmets obscuring their faces. Their presence was unnervingly silent—no footsteps, no radio chatter—just the hum of their advanced armor systems.

Phantom, hovering slightly above the ground, whispered telepathically, "They're professionals. No wasted movements, no hesitation. This is going to be a problem."

Adam's jaw tightened. "Weapons ready. We take them quietly if we can."

Zero's voice crackled through the comms, "They're blocking our only way down. If they engage, expect reinforcements in under two minutes."

Adam exhaled slowly. "Then we finish this in one."