Lex crouched behind a pile of crates, her heart pounding as she surveyed the dimly lit maintenance hub. The Ex-Marine was somewhere nearby, watching, waiting. Every shadow seemed to shift, every creak of the pipes overhead felt like a sign of his presence.

“This is it,” she whispered, her voice steady but low. “He thinks he has the upper hand. Let’s show him he doesn’t.”

The others nodded, each gripping their weapons tightly. Damien’s hands flexed on the handle of his machete, his knuckles white with tension. Sophie checked the last of the charges she’d rigged using parts scavenged from the Ex-Marine’s own traps. Maya leaned against a support beam, her arm bandaged but her determination unshaken.

“He’s going to come through here,” Sophie whispered, pointing at the service corridor on her tablet’s map. “It’s the only logical route he’d take to cut us off. If we stick to the plan, we can corner him.”

“We have to make this count,” Brandon said, his voice grim. “We won’t get another chance.”

Lex nodded, her gaze sweeping over her friends. They were battered, exhausted, but still standing. The Ex-Marine had underestimated them, treating them like scared prey. Now, they were ready to turn the tables.

“Stick to your positions,” she said. “We only get one shot at this.”

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The room fell silent as the team took their places. Damien crouched behind a heavy piece of machinery near the corridor’s entrance, his machete at the ready. Maya and Brandon took cover on either side of the maintenance hub, their weapons aimed toward the narrow corridor. Sophie was tucked behind a pile of debris near the center of the room, her tablet balanced on her lap as she monitored the live feed.

Lex knelt near the corridor’s far end, her crossbow aimed down the dark hallway. She controlled her breathing, keeping her hands steady. They didn’t know when he would come, but they knew he was coming.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, the silence pressing down on them like a weight. Then, faint footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Lex’s heart quickened. She glanced at Sophie, who nodded, confirming what they already knew: it was him.

The footsteps grew louder, each one deliberate and measured. The Ex-Marine was in no hurry. He thought he had all the time in the world, confident that his prey was cornered.

As he entered the room, the shadows seemed to shift around him. He moved with purpose, his dark tactical gear blending seamlessly with the dim light. His rifle was slung over his shoulder, his knife glinting faintly in his hand.

Lex held her breath, waiting for the signal.

The Ex-Marine scanned the room, his movements sharp and calculated. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” he said, his voice low and cold. “Setting traps. Hiding. It’s cute, but it’s not going to save you.”

He took another step forward, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the space. Then, just as he reached the center of the room, Sophie pressed a button on her tablet.

The charges detonated in a controlled burst, sending a shower of sparks and debris into the air. The Ex-Marine stumbled, momentarily disoriented as the room filled with smoke.

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“Now!” Lex shouted, and the team sprang into action.

Damien charged from the left, his machete swinging in a wide arc. The Ex-Marine recovered quickly, raising his knife to block the attack. The sound of metal striking metal rang out as the two clashed, their movements fast and brutal.

From the right, Brandon opened fire with his rifle, forcing the Ex-Marine to duck and roll behind a piece of machinery. Maya moved in, aiming carefully and firing a series of precise shots that pinned him down further.

Lex advanced from the far side, her crossbow aimed directly at his position. “You’re outnumbered,” she said, her voice steady. “It’s over.”

But the Ex-Marine’s laugh cut through the chaos, low and mocking. “Outnumbered? Maybe. But outmatched? Not a chance.”

He moved with blinding speed, lunging out from cover and slamming into Damien with enough force to send him sprawling. Before anyone could react, he grabbed one of the charges Sophie had rigged and hurled it toward the others. The explosion wasn’t strong enough to cause serious damage, but it created a burst of smoke and light, giving him a chance to retreat.

“Stay on him!” Lex shouted, sprinting after him as he darted toward the far end of the room.

The team followed, their movements coordinated despite the chaos. Damien recovered quickly, joining the chase with a determined scowl. They couldn’t let him escape—not this time.

The Ex-Marine led them into another corridor, his steps silent and controlled even as he fled. But the team was relentless, closing the distance with every passing second.

Finally, they cornered him in a storage room, its walls lined with shelves and boxes. The space was cramped, the perfect place for a final showdown.

Lex raised her crossbow, aiming directly at his chest. “It’s over,” she said, her voice cold. “You’re not getting away this time.”

The Ex-Marine smirked, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead. “You really think you’ve won?” he asked, his tone dripping with disdain. “You don’t even know what game you’re playing.”

Before Lex could respond, the room grew eerily silent. The air felt heavy, charged with an unnatural energy. A faint, rhythmic sound filled the space, like a heartbeat echoing in the walls.

“What… is that?” Maya whispered, her voice trembling.

The Ex-Marine’s smirk faltered, his gaze shifting toward the shadows in the corner of the room. “No,” he muttered, his voice uncharacteristically tense. “Not now.”

The shadows seemed to shift, growing darker, deeper. And then it appeared.

The Wraith emerged from the darkness, its form barely visible in the dim light. It moved with an otherworldly grace, its presence radiating an aura of cold, unrelenting dread. Its hollow eyes locked onto the Ex-Marine, ignoring the others entirely.

“What is that thing?” Brandon whispered, his voice barely audible.

The Ex-Marine raised his rifle, his hands steady despite the fear in his eyes. “Stay back!” he barked, firing a burst of rounds directly at the Wraith.

The bullets passed through it as if it weren’t even there.

In a blur of motion, the Wraith closed the distance between them, its movements impossibly fast. The Ex-Marine swung his knife, but it was useless. The Wraith struck with a force that sent him crashing into the wall, his body crumpling to the ground.

The friends stood frozen, watching in stunned silence as the Wraith loomed over the Ex-Marine. He tried to stand, his defiance unbroken even in the face of death. But the Wraith didn’t give him the chance. In a single, brutal motion, it finished him, its attack swift and merciless.

The Ex-Marine was dead.

The Wraith turned its hollow gaze toward the friends, its presence heavy and suffocating. For a moment, it seemed to study them, its movements slow and deliberate. Then, without a sound, it vanished back into the shadows, leaving them alone in the silent room.

Lex lowered her crossbow, her breath shaky. “What just happened?” she whispered.

No one answered. The weight of what they’d just witnessed hung heavily in the air, a reminder that the Wraith was unlike anything they’d faced before.

“We need to move,” Sophie said finally, her voice trembling. “Whatever that thing is… it’s not done.”

Lex nodded, her resolve hardening. They had survived another battle, but the war was far from over. As they gathered the Ex-Marine’s gear and prepared to leave, one thought lingered in her mind.

The Wraith wasn’t their enemy—but it wasn’t their ally either.