Aire moved in absolute silence as she advanced through the abandoned structure. The building, once a textile factory, was now a shadow of its former glory. The walls were peeling, with cracks stretching like black roots up to the high, moldy ceiling. Fragments of broken glass littered the floor, reflecting the moonlight that seeped through the dusty windows. The air was heavy and damp, carrying the metallic odor of rust mixed with the pervasive stench of mildew embedded in the beams.
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed ahead, breaking the ghostly silence. Aire adjusted her posture, her internal sensors analyzing the movement pattern. The man she was chasing was agitated, his irregular steps betraying his fear and desperation. Biometric identification provided by P.A.S.O. confirmed he was a direct subordinate of Ace Newman, the primary target. This subordinate knew too much, and eliminating him was only the prelude to the real objective.
Aire moved with calculated precision, her metallic feet almost floating above the debris-covered floor. Her silhouette was elegant, with pieces of her armor reflecting the faint ambient light. The white cape hanging from her shoulders swayed lightly with every movement, as if it were alive. Her eyes, two pulsing violet lights, were the only sign she was operational. A wide hat partially concealed her mechanical face but couldn’t hide the aura of menace emanating from her.
The subordinate turned into a narrow hallway, his trembling hands clutching a pistol. He could barely control his breathing as he frantically searched for an escape. Every door in the corridor was either locked or blocked by fallen furniture. Aire knew he was cornered. Her internal system mapped out all possible escape routes and concluded that he had nowhere left to run.
As she approached, Aire deliberately let her footsteps make a faint sound. The man spun around quickly, pointing his weapon into the emptiness of the corridor. His eyes were wide, and beads of sweat rolled down his temples.
“Who’s there?!” he shouted, his voice laced with panic.
Aire emerged from the shadows, her deliberate steps echoing. Her voice was cold and mechanical, but it carried an air of authority.
“You carry secrets you shouldn’t.”
Before the man could react, Aire moved with blinding speed. Her leg arced in a perfect motion, striking the man’s wrist and sending the pistol clattering to the ground. He screamed, clutching his numbed arm, but before he could recover, Aire grabbed him by the neck and pinned him against the wall.
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“Please! I’m just following orders! I don’t know anything!” he pleaded, his words choked by the grip around his throat.
Aire tilted her head slightly, as if analyzing the truth of his words. Her metallic claws tightened enough to draw blood, thin streams of crimson trailing down his neck.
“Where is Ace Newman?” she asked, devoid of emotion.
“He… he’s on the top floor! Please, don’t kill me!” he whimpered.
With precise movement, Aire threw him to the ground. She picked up the fallen pistol, examined it for a second, and discarded it with disdain. Without sparing him another glance, she began walking toward the main staircase. Behind her, the subordinate remained motionless, trembling in fear.
The top floor was a vast space, once used as an administrative area. Now, it was a scene of chaos. Piles of burnt papers were scattered across the floor, overturned metal desks served as makeshift barricades, and smears of oil and fresh blood adorned the walls. At the center of the room, Ace Newman waited, flanked by two heavily armed bodyguards. He was a burly man, his wrinkled gray suit barely fitting his frame, and his expression was a mix of arrogance and apprehension.
“So, you’re the infamous Aire, huh?” Ace said, his voice dripping with disdain. “An assassin machine sent to dismantle my empire.”
Aire didn’t reply. Instead, she advanced slowly, her eyes fixed on Ace. The bodyguards raised their weapons, but before they could fire, Aire was already in motion. She leaped to the side, spinning in midair and throwing a knife that embedded itself in one man’s shoulder. He screamed and collapsed, his weapon slipping from his grasp. The other attempted to retaliate, but Aire disarmed him with a precise kick that snapped his wrist.
Ace seized the distraction as an opportunity to escape, but Aire gave him no chance. She vaulted over the desks, landing directly in front of him. Her movements were fluid, almost artistic, but undeniably lethal.
“You’re not leaving here alive,” Aire declared, her voice as cold as ice.
Ace stumbled back, tripping over a fallen chair. “Wait! We can negotiate! Money, weapons, whatever you want!” he begged, but Aire didn’t hesitate.
With an agile leap, she landed on Ace’s back. Her metallic legs wrapped around his torso, compressing his chest. He screamed, struggling to break free, but Aire’s strength was overwhelming. In one swift, precise motion, she pulled the knife from her waist and slashed his throat in a clean arc. Blood sprayed like a fountain, painting the floor and walls in vivid red.
Ace collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, his lifeless body forming a pool of blood. Aire stood still for a moment, observing her work. The room was silent, save for the sound of blood dripping.
Aire raised her left arm, activating an embedded communicator. A deep, calm male voice responded from the other end.
“Report.”
“Target successfully neutralized,” Aire replied coldly. Her voice carried no emotion, but there was finality in her words.
Without waiting for a response, she deactivated the communicator and exited the room. The lights flickered as she disappeared into the building’s shadows, leaving behind only silence and the pungent smell of fresh blood.