The footsteps pounded closer. Shadows flickered against the walls. Three guards. Armed.
Alexa's pulse thundered. She had no weapon—only her instincts.
Amira gripped her stolen blade tighter, shifting into a stance Alexa recognized. Trained. Deadly.
The medic, still weak, leaned against the wall, breath shallow. They wouldn't be much help in a fight.
We have to end this fast.
The first guard rounded the corner.
Amira moved first.
A blur of speed—the knife slashed across his throat.
He gurgled, collapsing before he could react.
Alexa didn't hesitate. She lunged for the second guard, using his shock against him.
She grabbed his wrist, twisting the gun from his grasp. One sharp elbow to his throat. He choked, staggering.
She drove her knee into his stomach, then smashed the stolen gun across his temple.
He crumpled.
The third guard raised his weapon—too late.
Bang.
Alexa turned.
The third guard was down. Blood pooled beneath him.
And the medic—shaking, breathless—held the gun.
Alexa stared.
"I thought you were too weak to fight," Amira muttered.
The medic's hands trembled as they lowered the gun. "I am."
Alexa exhaled. *No time for questions.
"We need to move."
She grabbed a weapon from the fallen guards.
Then—they ran.
The Hall of Traps
The hall twisted ahead, lined with pipes and steel doors. The alarms were still blaring, the whole facility awake now.
Alexa knew the layout. There was a way out.
But they wouldn't make it without a distraction.
Her mind worked fast. Options.
The pipes.
She skidded to a stop, scanning them. *Steam valves.
"Amira," she called. "Help me break these."
Amira caught on fast. She used the stolen knife to jam one valve open. Alexa grabbed a fallen guard's baton, smashing another.
HISSSSSSSS.
Scalding white steam erupted into the hall, blocking the view ahead.
Voices shouted from the other side. Guards coming.
Alexa grabbed the medic's arm. "Move!"
They sprinted through the haze.
The Final Door
The back exit was close—one more corridor.
Alexa felt it. Freedom.
But then—a figure stepped into their path
Tall. Unshaken. The Head Instructor.
Her cold gaze swept over them, her lips curving into something almost amused.
"Going somewhere?"
Alexa's stomach twisted.
The Head Instructor wasn't alone. *Guards stood behind her.
They were trapped.
And this time, there was no running.
Only one choice left.
To fight.