Chapter 4: No Turning Back

The walls trembled as the metal door groaned under the force of the Sentinels' assault. Sparks flew as their cutting tools carved through the reinforced frame, sending a sharp, metallic scent into the air. Michael's grip tightened on the emergency beacon Evelyn had given him.

"What now?" he whispered, his pulse hammering in his ears.

Evelyn snapped a magazine into her pistol and pulled back the slide with a practiced motion. "We fight," she said, her voice calm but firm. "Or you run. Your choice."

Michael swallowed hard. Running sounded good, but something inside him resisted. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was the fact that if he ran now, he'd be running forever.

The door gave way with a deafening clang, bursting open as armed figures poured in. Their sleek black armor gleamed under the flickering lights, their visors glowing red as they raised their weapons.

"Target confirmed. Engage."

Time slowed.

Michael didn't think. He felt. His body reacted before his mind caught up. The world around him rippled, warping like heat off asphalt. He sidestepped an incoming bullet—no, not sidestepped. He was somewhere else for a fraction of a second, his body shifting in a way that defied physics.

"He's adapting already?" one of the Sentinels barked. "Suppress him!"

Evelyn moved like a shadow, ducking low and firing two precise shots. One Sentinel dropped, armor sparking as he hit the floor. The others adjusted their aim, but Michael was already moving. He didn't understand how, but it didn't matter. His instincts screamed at him to keep going.

A hand grabbed his wrist. Evelyn.

"We can't hold this position! Follow me!"

She dragged him toward the back of the safe house, weaving between overturned tables and shattered monitors. A storm of bullets tore through the space behind them, sparks flying as rounds ricocheted off metal surfaces.

"Exit!" she shouted, kicking open a maintenance hatch. "Go!"

Michael dove through just as a concussive blast rocked the room. The force sent him sprawling onto rough pavement outside. Cold night air hit his face, mixing with the distant wail of sirens.

Evelyn landed beside him, rolling to her feet. "Move!"

They sprinted through the narrow alley, the sound of boots hammering the ground behind them. Shadows stretched and twisted under the dim streetlights, giving everything an eerie, distorted look. Michael's mind raced. He barely knew what was happening, and already he was being hunted like some kind of fugitive.

A sharp whine filled the air. He turned just in time to see a Sentinel leveling a compact rifle at them. Instinct took over. The space between them folded—one second, Michael was five feet away, the next, he was right in the Sentinel's face.

Without thinking, he lashed out. His fist connected with the soldier's helmet, and the air around them warped again. The impact was far stronger than it should have been, sending the Sentinel flying into the alley wall with a sickening crunch.

Michael stumbled back, staring at his hands. "What the hell was that?!"

"Acceleration," Evelyn said, grabbing his arm. "You're learning on the fly. Now keep moving!"

The alley opened onto a busy street. Neon signs flickered overhead, painting the wet pavement in shifting blues and reds. Crowds bustled past, unaware of the chaos just beyond the alleyway.

Evelyn pulled Michael's hood up. "Blend in. We need to disappear."

Michael forced himself to breathe normally, his mind still reeling from what had just happened. The Sentinels wouldn't stop. They wouldn't rest. He had two choices: keep running, or learn how to fight back.

And something told him he was just getting started.