The maintenance corridor seemed to stretch endlessly as the team moved cautiously through its narrow, dimly lit confines. The hum of unseen machinery vibrated through the walls, a low and constant reminder of how isolated they were. Every step felt heavier, as if the very air in the space was pressing down on them.

Lex was at the front, her crossbow ready. Her breathing was controlled, her mind sharp. Behind her, the others moved as quietly as possible, each step carefully measured to avoid making noise. Sophie held her tablet close, scanning the feed she’d hacked into, trying to get a fix on their enemy’s location.

“He’s up ahead somewhere,” she whispered, her voice tense. “The ventilation feeds show movement, but I can’t lock him down. He’s fast.”

“Too fast,” Maya muttered, glancing nervously over her shoulder. “It’s like he’s always one step ahead of us.”

“That’s what he wants you to think,” Lex said, her tone firm. “He’s good, but no one’s invincible. We’ve got this.”

They advanced, their nerves raw, their senses straining to pick up any sound or movement. The corridor twisted and turned, leading them deeper into the maze-like maintenance level. Every corner felt like an ambush waiting to happen, every shadow hiding an unseen threat.

Then, without warning, the PA system crackled to life again.

“Ah, you made it this far,” the Ex-Marine said, his voice dripping with mock approval. “I have to admit, you’ve got more grit than I expected. But grit only gets you so far.”

The group froze, their eyes darting around the corridor, trying to pinpoint where the voice was coming from. It felt like it was everywhere at once, surrounding them.

“Don’t let him distract you,” Lex whispered. “Keep moving.”

They pressed on, the Ex-Marine’s voice continuing to echo around them. “Do you know what separates the weak from the strong?” he asked, his tone conversational, as if he were giving a lecture. “Discipline. Training. The ability to stay calm under pressure. That’s why I’ll win, and you’ll lose.”

The words hung in the air, their weight settling on each of them. Lex forced herself to push past it, focusing on the task at hand. But she could feel the tension building in the group, the way Maya’s hands trembled slightly, the tightness in Damien’s jaw as he clenched his machete.

They turned another corner, and suddenly, the corridor widened into a larger room—a maintenance hub filled with pipes and control panels. The space was cramped but open enough to feel exposed, and Lex’s instincts screamed that something was about to happen.

“Stay close,” she said, her voice barely audible. “And watch every angle.”

As they stepped into the room, a loud metallic clang echoed behind them. They spun around to see a heavy gate slamming shut, blocking off their exit.

“Trap,” Sophie muttered, her face pale.

The PA crackled again, and the Ex-Marine’s laugh filled the room. “Did you really think I’d let you walk in here without a plan? This is my domain. You’re in my world now.”

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Lex scanned the room, her mind racing. There were too many blind spots, too many places for him to hide. They needed to move, fast.

“He’s close,” she whispered. “Spread out, but stay within sight of each other. If he attacks, we need to cover every angle.”

They fanned out, each of them taking a position behind the scattered machinery and debris. The tension was palpable, every second stretching into an eternity as they waited for the inevitable.

And then he struck.

The Ex-Marine moved like a shadow, darting out from the corner of the room with ruthless precision. Before anyone could react, he was on them, his movements sharp and controlled.

He went for Maya first, a swift, calculated strike with a tactical knife that she barely managed to dodge. She stumbled back, her arm grazing a jagged pipe, leaving a deep gash.

“Maya!” Lex shouted, raising her crossbow, but the Ex-Marine was already moving, disappearing into the shadows before she could get a clear shot.

Damien lunged forward, his machete swinging in a wide arc. “You’re not getting away this time!”

But the Ex-Marine was faster, sidestepping the attack with ease. He countered with a swift kick to Damien’s chest, sending him sprawling onto the ground. Before Damien could recover, the Ex-Marine had his rifle trained on him.

“Don’t even think about it,” the Psycho said, his voice calm but deadly.

Lex’s heart raced as she loaded another arrow into her crossbow, her fingers steady despite the adrenaline surging through her veins. She aimed carefully, waiting for the perfect shot.

“Now, now,” the Ex-Marine continued, his tone mocking. “I could end this right now. But where’s the fun in that?”

He glanced toward Maya, who was clutching her injured arm, and then toward Sophie and Brandon, who were frozen behind the machinery, their weapons raised but their fear evident.

“You’re all so predictable,” he said, shaking his head. “The leader. The hacker. The fighter. The hopefuls. You’re nothing but archetypes, playing a game you’ve already lost.”

Lex narrowed her eyes, her focus sharp. “Not yet, we haven’t.”

She fired the arrow, and it struck his shoulder, forcing him to drop his rifle. He stumbled back, his expression shifting from smug confidence to cold fury.

“You’re going to regret that,” he growled, pulling the arrow from his shoulder with a wince.

But the momentary distraction was all they needed. Damien recovered quickly, grabbing his machete and lunging forward again. This time, his strike landed, slashing across the Ex-Marine’s leg and forcing him to retreat further into the room.

The team regrouped, forming a defensive line as they advanced on him. He was still dangerous, even wounded, but for the first time, he seemed genuinely on the back foot.

“We’ve got him!” Brandon said, his voice filled with determination.

“Don’t get cocky,” Lex warned. “He’s still dangerous.”

The Ex-Marine’s lips curled into a grim smile. “You think this is over? You have no idea what you’re up against.”

With a sudden burst of speed, he activated another trap—this time a series of small, improvised explosives hidden along the edges of the room. The blasts sent debris flying, forcing the team to scatter once again.

By the time the smoke cleared, the Ex-Marine was gone, retreating back into the shadows.

Lex clenched her fists, her frustration boiling over. “Damn it! He’s toying with us.”

Maya winced as she pressed a piece of cloth against her injured arm. “What do we do now? He’s just going to keep coming.”

“We regroup,” Lex said, her voice steady despite the tension in her eyes. “He’s trying to wear us down, but we’re not going to let him. We’ll use his tactics against him.”

“How?” Damien asked, his expression serious.

Lex looked around the room, her mind racing. “He’s used this place to his advantage, setting traps and keeping us off balance. But we know his patterns now. We’ll set our own ambush. Turn his game against him.”

The others nodded, their fear giving way to determination. They were battered and bruised, but they weren’t out of the fight yet.

As they began to gather supplies and formulate a plan, the Ex-Marine’s voice crackled through the PA system one last time. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? Let’s see how clever you are when the stakes get higher.”

The line went dead, and the room fell silent once more.

Lex tightened her grip on her crossbow, her resolve hardening. This wasn’t just a fight for survival anymore—it was a battle of wits, and she wasn’t about to let him win.