Novels2Search

The Heist

The three of us stood in the darkness as the train rumbled along, the rhythmic clatter of wheels on tracks filling the air. Nerves gnawed at my stomach, twisting tighter with every passing second. My first job. I couldn’t afford to mess this up.

Senna’s hand rested lightly on my shoulder, calming me down. His voice cut through the noise, calm and firm. “Just remember your part of the plan. You’ll be just fine.”

I couldn’t see his face in the darkness, but I didn’t need to. I knew he was smiling—that confident grin he always wore when he wanted to put someone at ease. That thought pushed back some of the doubt creeping into my mind. Everyone’s counting on me. I can’t let them down.

The train jolted slightly, and I grabbed the Senna for balance. It stopped periodically. The car doors opened every so often as people got off, revealing unfamiliar places. The hiss of brakes marking the comings and goings of passengers. Each pause stretched my nerves a little thinner, my fingers tapping lightly against my leg.

Finally, the train slowed to a crawl. With a harsh scrape, the door was yanked open. The faint orange glow of platform lights bled into the car. My pulse quickened.

A platform worker stood silhouetted against the light, his expression unreadable as he scanned us. His gaze lingered for a moment too long, and I tensed, waiting for him to say something.

But then his shoulders sagged, his expression shifting to one of disinterest. He waved us off with a dismissive gesture.

We stepped onto the platform, the sound of our boots echoing faintly against the stone walls. Above the main entrance, a massive bronze face loomed, carved into the archway with an eerie precision. Its vacant eyes seemed to watch us as we passed beneath it, mirroring the disdain most people wore when they looked at us. Like we didn’t belong.

Ev and Senna moved with purpose, and I trailed closely behind, keeping my head down. The platform was sparse, a few workers and guards milling about, their voices low and hurried.

We veered left, heading for the stairs that led to the workspace that was on the other side of the tracks forcing us to cross them.

As we crossed the tracks, I glanced at Ev. Her hat—too big and slightly crooked—kept slipping down over her eyebrows, and every few steps, she pushed it back into place with a frustrated huff.

The air grew thicker as we descended the stairs, a heavy blend of oil, rust, and something metallic that stung the back of my throat. The clunking and screeching of machinery grew louder, each sound sharp enough to set my teeth on edge.

As we stepped onto the main floor, the sight that greeted us made my stomach twist.

A handful of skinny kids worked at battered benches, their hands moving with mechanical precision as they pieced together half-broken parts. Their faces were streaked with grime, their shoulders hunched as though the weight of the air itself pressed down on them. Their movements were almost robotic—efficient but lifeless. The weekend workers. They worked for no pay with double the workload.

I swallowed hard. I’d heard about them before, but seeing them like this was different. They were barely older than me, and their eyes—dull and hollow—seemed to stare straight through the world around them.

Ev’s jaw tightened as she took it all in, her hands curling into fists. Her whole body seemed coiled, ready to snap. She’d told me once that this wasn’t supposed to happen, that what they were doing here was illegal.

But here it was.

“They’re not supposed to be here,” she muttered, her voice low and seething. Her eyes burned as they darted from one kid to the next. “They’re not supposed to be here.”

I glanced at Senna, hoping for reassurance, but his expression was unreadable. For once, he didn’t have a quick quip or a calm grin. Instead, he stood there silently, his jaw set as he watched the scene unfold.

Senna shook his head, disgust twisting his features, while Ev’s face darkened into a grimace. The kids toiling on the floor were a grim, haunting sight—covered in sores and bruises, their limbs unnaturally thin. Some were missing fingers or ears, and one had only a stump where an arm should have been.

My stomach churned, and I forced myself to look away. I didn’t understand why they kept trying. No machine rat ever lived long enough to grow up.

They barely noticed us as we passed, their hollow eyes glued to their work. The steady clink of tools and the mechanical hiss of steam filled the air, an unrelenting symphony of labor. Each step past them felt heavier, the silence among the three of us growing louder.

Ahead, a set of elevators loomed, their bronze grates glinting faintly in the dim light. I’d seen them before, watching adults use them from a distance, but this was the first time I’d ever been close enough to touch one. The intricate mechanisms called to me, begging to be studied.

But there wasn’t time for curiosity now.

Ev stepped forward, pressing one of the buttons. With a screech of worn metal, the bronze grate slid shut, enclosing us in the cramped space. The elevator jerked to life, and I felt a strange, disorienting sensation—a mix of floating and being pulled downward all at once. My stomach flipped, but before I could process it, the ride was over.

The grate groaned open, and what lay beyond made me freeze.

A semi-open space stretched out before us, glowing with a warmth I’d never associated with this world. A golden fountain stood at its center, water cascading down its polished surface in glittering streams. The soft hum of conversation drifted through the air, mingling with the delicate notes of a piano playing somewhere unseen.

The people were even more surreal. Men in top hats and tailored suits, women in fine dresses that sparkled faintly under the polished lights, as though they belonged to a world untouched by grime or hardship.

“Who the fuck are these rats?”

The rough voice cut through my head while I was lost in thought. Snapping me back to the moment

Two guardsmen stepped forward, their boots echoing sharply against the smooth marble floor. They slid another bronze grate across the elevator entrance, blocking our way. Their uniforms were crisp, their buttons gleaming, but their sneering expressions carried the same disdain I’d seen on every adult who looked at us for too long.

My chest tightened as their eyes raked over us. I shot a glance at Senna and Ev, expecting panic, but neither of them seemed fazed. Senna stood relaxed, his hands tucked in his pockets, while Ev stepped forward like she owned the place.

“Foreman Bulatta wants his gun finished before tomorrow,” she scoffed. “Now, I don’t think he’d be too happy to hear I couldn’t get it done because a pair of guardsmen had questions.”

Her confidence hit the guard closest to her like a slap. He growled low in his throat, clearly not used to being talked to like that by a kid. “Piss off, then,” he snarled. “Rats like you carry diseases.”

Ev smirked, brushing past him without a second glance. She grabbed my arm, tugging me forward as Senna followed behind.

The hallway beyond was pristine, too pristine. Every surface gleamed as if freshly polished, reflecting the warm glow of the overhead lights. The air was clean—almost unnervingly so—and carried the faint scent of lavender, a sharp contrast to the world we’re from.

My gaze flicked to the doors lining the walls. Each one was marked with a golden-brown number, the paint perfectly smooth and unblemished. I wondered at their significance, my mind swirling with possibilities until we came to an abrupt stop.

Door number 74.

Ev shot us a sharp look before knocking briskly on the door.

“Come in!” called a high-pitched voice from within, unnervingly cheerful against the stillness of the hallway.

We stepped into a narrow corridor lined with mismatched pictures. Crooked frames jutted at odd angles, cluttering the walls and shelves. Foreman Bulatta’s face appeared in nearly every photo, but the grinning, wide-eyed man in the images was nearly unrecognizable. His toothy smiles felt out of place compared to the stern scowl I’d seen on him in person.

We moved into a sitting room that caught me off guard with its unexpected elegance. A green velvet couch sat near the room’s center, flanked by polished side tables and a matching chair. The glow of an antique lamp cast a soft, warm light, its shade embroidered with tiny, intricate flowers.

And then I saw her.

A young girl, no older than twelve, lounged in the velvet chair. Her short black hair framed her expressionless face, and her pristine navy-blue dress fell in precise folds. She sat perfectly still, her posture rigid, her gaze locked on the opposite wall. There was something about her blank stare—detached and unblinking—that sent a chill up my spine.

“You brought friends,” she said, her monotone voice cutting cleanly through the quiet room.

Ev stepped forward, pulling us along as she spoke. “This is Senna, and this is Jack,” she said, gesturing between us.

“How do you do?” Senna asked, his attempt at a friendly smile coming off more awkward than charming.

“Hello,” I muttered, my gaze darting to the floor.

The girl tilted her head slightly, a slow, deliberate motion. “Hm.”

Ev knelt beside her chair, gently taking the girl’s small hand in her own. “We’re here to fix your father’s jukebox,” she said softly. “It would mean a lot if you didn’t tell him they were here. We have a little sister at home, and we can’t afford to lose work.”

The girl’s eyes didn’t shift, but her lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. “Only if you promise to be my friend.”

Ev gasped theatrically, clutching her chest. “I thought we already were, Priya!”

Priya’s expression softened, her monotone brightening ever so slightly. “Good. Then I’ll break more things so Father calls you back. That way, we can talk more!”

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself not to groan as Ev nodded and smiled indulgently. Friends with a Ringer? Has she lost her mind?

Senna caught my eye, his lips twitching into a smirk as if he found my frustration amusing. His jaw, though, was set tight…he didn’t seem any happier about the situation than I was.

The jukebox sat in the far corner, unplugged and half-dismantled. Grateful for the distraction, I walked over, crouching beside it to inspect the damage. Senna followed, leaning against the wall and pretending to help.

I glanced toward him, raising a brow as I gestured toward Priya. His shrug was subtle, his smirk teasing as if to say, Good luck figuring her out.

Behind us, Ev and Priya’s voices grew softer, drifting toward trivial topics about boys and school. My gaze flicked back to Priya occasionally, watching her far-off stare and the stillness of her posture. A question surfaced unbidden: Is she blind? Her lack of reaction to movement and her focus on nothing made me wonder.

The jukebox’s issue was simple: a missing spring in the claw mechanism. It was tedious but straightforward—something Ev could have fixed days ago if she hadn’t been dragging her feet. My thoughts wandered briefly to Serrani and the concert tonight before I shook them away and refocused.

Once I screwed the final panel into place, Senna plugged the machine back into the wall. The jukebox flickered to life, its neon lights casting colorful patterns that danced across the room.

Ev turned back to Priya, her tone warm and light. “Looks like we’re done. Sorry, Princess, but we have to get going.”

Priya’s cheerful demeanor dimmed, her lips tugging into a faint pout. “You’ll come back, right?”

Ev patted her arm gently. “Of course. Keep working on your father, and I’ll see you soon. I can’t wait to hear more about your school.”

Priya’s smile returned, brighter this time. “Alright. I’ll hold you to that.”

As soon as the door clicked shut behind us, I spun on Ev.

“Friends with a Ringer?” I hissed. “Are you insane?”

Ev smirked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Jealous of my non-criminal choice of friend?”

Before I could fire back, Senna stepped between us, his voice low and firm. “Save it for later. Focus. We’re still on the job.”

We moved in silence, the tension between us heavy as we descended into the dimly lit spare parts room. Back on the main floor, we took a sharp right, heading toward a bathroom. Once out of sight, we slipped into a dimly lit spare parts room with ease. I guess security is light on the weekends.

Senna wasted no time finding the grate. He knelt down, his hands deftly undoing the screws before sliding it aside with a quiet scrape. “You’re up, Jack,” he murmured, nodding toward the opening.

I took a deep breath and dropped in first, my boots hitting the cold, damp floor with a muted thud. The chill seeped through my soles. Moments later, Ev followed, landing lightly beside me, and Senna brought up the rear. The stench hit immediately…stale water mixed with oil and decay. It was rancid, but nothing we hadn’t endured before.

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Dim green lights mounted along the slick walls cast an eerie glow, stretching shadows that flickered as we moved. The air felt heavy, damp, and oppressive.

Before I could move, Senna held up a hand, his face unusually serious. “Alright, listen up,” he said, pulling out the crumpled map from his pocket. “From here, it’s going to be a long walk…few hours at least.”

“Hours?” I groaned. “Are you sure there’s not some shortcut you’re hiding from us?”

Senna smirked, the flickering green light catching the edge of his grin. “Oh, there’s always a shortcut Jack. But shortcuts get you caught—or worse.”

Ev adjusted her hat, “Just stick to the plan and you’ll be fine.” I nodded, my nerves stilled. I was starting to worry I might screw things up.

Ev smirked, “Come on, let’s move before we meet some of our rat siblings. I’m not a fan of family reunions.”

The three of us walked on, the sewers stretching endlessly before us. The dim, flickering lights overhead cast eerie reflections on the water pooling beneath the grated walkway. Shadows danced along the walls.

Senna kept the mood light, cracking jokes and teasing me about my nerves. “You know, after this job, I’ll teach you how to be a great husband for the little lady.” he said, grinning over his shoulder. “Assuming you survive today, of course.”

“Ha-ha,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes. “Very funny.”

Ev shot him a sideways look, her brow furrowing slightly. “You should stop teasing him, Senna. It’s his first real job. Let him focus.”

“I-I agree!” I said, trying to ignore the heat rushing to my face.

Senna chuckled, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll save the teasing for later.”

We walked for what seemed like forever. The oppressive silence of the sewers broken only by our footsteps and the occasional creak of the metal walkways. Every so often, I caught Senna glancing back at me, his expression unreadable.

Eventually, Senna stopped, holding up a hand to signal us. “This is it,” he said, gesturing toward a ladder that led upward. The faint glow of the blue sky beyond the towering buildings filtered through the grate above, casting fractured light onto the damp walls.

“Ready?” he asked, his eyes scanning both of us for hesitation.

Ev adjusted her hat, a determined glint in her eyes. “Ready.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Senna smiled, the kind of smile that made you believe everything was going to be alright. “Good. Let’s do this.”

He began climbing the ladder, his movements steady and deliberate. I followed close behind, with Ev bringing up the rear. The ascent was silent except for the faint creak of metal under our weight. When we clambered out at the top, we found ourselves in a back alley, shielded from the main streets by the towering walls of massive buildings, the air was cooler and cleaner than I was used to. It felt alien against my skin, too fresh for the world I knew.

I paused, taking it all in. The contrast was jarring. This part of the city was pristine—cleaner than anywhere I’d ever been. Even the cobblestones beneath my feet seemed polished. Looking up at the towering buildings surrounding us, I couldn’t help but feel a familiar weight pressing down on me, a reminder of how small we really were in this world.

“Jack. Vent,” Senna’s hushed voice cutting through my distraction.

Focus, Jack. Across the alley, I spotted the vent Senna had pointed to—a small, rectangular opening nestled low on the wall, just big enough for me to squeeze through.

Without a word, Senna crouched, bracing himself as I climbed onto his shoulders. Ev stood watch, her sharp eyes scanning the alley for any sign of trouble. The weight of the task settled on me as I worked, carefully unscrewing the bolts that held the vent in place. My hands trembled slightly, but I steadied them. When the last screw came loose, I pulled the grate free and handed it down to Ev

I took a deep breath. This was it. No more rehearsals, no more room for second-guessing.

Remember your part.

The elevator shaft was the first obstacle. I hoisted myself into the vent, the cramped space immediately closing in around me. The sound of Senna sliding the vent grate back into place echoed faintly behind me, and for a moment, I hesitated. That sound might as well have been a door locking—a one-way ticket. No way back now.

The vent system was a twisting, claustrophobic maze. Dead ends loomed unexpectedly. My muscles strained as I twisted and stretched, inching forward with every agonizing movement. The metal walls brushing against my arms as I wormed my way in. The air inside was stifling, the recycled smell of dust and machinery. My knees scraped against the metal as I crawled forward, the sound of my movements echoing faintly in the confined space.

I was focusing on what senna told me before he closed the grate “First grate, straight ahead you can't miss it”, frustration was starting to bubble inside me. What damn grate?

I shook my head, forcing myself to focus. Keep moving, Jack. They’re counting on you. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I spotted it—a small, rectangular opening on the floor of the vent. Relief surged through me as I unscrewed the grate, but the moment was short-lived. The grate slipped from my hands, falling for a for seconds before landing with a loud thud, the noise reverberating through the elevator shaft like a gunshot.

I froze, my heart pounding against my ribs as I held my breath. Don’t move. Don’t breathe.

After a moment, I dared to peek through the opening. My stomach dropped. The shaft stretched into an endless void, shadows swallowing the bottom far beyond what I could see. The bottom was obscured in shadow, and the faint glint of cables and gears only added to the dizzying height.

This is fine. Totally fine. I thought to myself sarcastically

I scanned the area, my eyes darting over the machinery and cables crisscrossing the shaft. My gaze landed on a set of wires running vertically down the opposite wall. They were thick enough to hold my weight—probably.

“Frankie’s got a lot of explaining to do when we get back,” I said, biting back a curse.

Stripping off my shirt, I wrapped it around my hands to protect them from the coarse metal. Taking a deep breath, I reached my arms out from the vent, gripping the wire tightly. As I began my descent the strain on my arms was immediate, a fiery ache spreading through my shoulders

The fall wasn’t smooth. The vibrations from the wire buzzed against my palms, and the friction threatened to tear through the fabric of my makeshift gloves. When my feet hit the ground, my legs buckled, numb from the jarring impact. I stumbled, gasping for air as I shook off the ache.

I staggered slightly, shaking out the tingling sensation in my limbs. “Well, that could’ve gone worse,” I groaned to my thin legs who gave me a sharp reminder to never do that again as I took my first step.

The shaft was eerily quiet now, the distant hum of machinery the only sound. I spotted the ladder a few feet away, its semi-rusted rungs glinting faintly in the dim light. At least this part of the plan was accurate.

I slipped my shirt back on getting ready to begin climbing when I felt nothing hit my back. I took it off and noticed that I no longer had a shirt to put on; it had been torn to nothing. “And now there goes my last shirt.” I said with a weary sigh.

I began climbing, each step a battle against the growing fatigue in my arms. My muscles screamed in protest, but I pushed through, focusing on the rhythm of my movements.

Up and up, rung by rung, until finally, I reached the top. A new grate greeted me, its bolts glinting in the faint light. Resting against the ladder for a moment, I caught my breath, wiping the sweat from my brow.

Frankie made it sound so easy.

I quickly unscrewed the grate, and tossed it into the darkness below. The sound of it clattering against the shaft walls sent a faint thrill of satisfaction through me. Steeling myself, I heaved my aching body into the vent. My muscles protested with each movement, the earlier climb taking its toll. I allowed myself a brief pause, leaning against the cool metal of the vent as I continued to catch my breath.

Please, no pits of fire next, I thought wryly, forcing myself to move again.

I crawled onward, the tight confines of the vent forcing me to twist and maneuver awkwardly. Remembering Frankie’s plan, I stuck to the right at every fork. The silence in the vent felt oppressive, broken only by the faint scrape of my movements and my own shallow breathing. The tension of not knowing what lay ahead gnawed at me.

Finally, I reached another grate. No hidden death trap? You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Frankie. With a faint grunt, I pushed it open and crawled out, stretching my sore limbs as I took in my surroundings.

The room before me was nothing short of breathtaking. Expensive looking furniture gleamed under the soft, warm light. Rich purple fabrics draped across the room like banners of royalty. The sheer wealth displayed here was staggering, a declaration of power and privilege. My eyes darted around, taking in gilded mirrors, intricate chandeliers, and hand-carved shelves lined with ornate trinkets.

My awe faded into confusion as I scratched my head, glancing around the opulent room. Who even lives like this? And where’s the balcony? The plush carpet muffled my steps as I moved cautiously. Randomly choosing a door, I pushed it open and stepped into an equally lavish bedroom, its walls adorned with intricate carvings and gilded trim. The centerpiece was a massive bed, its canopy adorned with fine lace.

Across the room, glass doors led to a balcony. Relief flooded me as I spotted Senna and Ev sitting against the doors, their forms illuminated faintly by the daylight beyond. I tapped the glass, watching them jump before unlocking the door. They whipped around, their stiff expressions softening upon recognition.

Senna ruffled my hair with a grin. “I knew you could do it.”

I chuckled sheepishly, “Well, there were a few problems… but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Senna raised a skeptical eyebrow noticing my lack of shirt, but didn’t press further. Instead, he surveyed the room with a calculating gaze. “If you handled them, then there’s nothing to worry about,” he said absently, his eyes darting to every corner of the room.

Meanwhile, Ev wasted no time, rushing to the nearest drawer and yanking it open. She rifled through its contents with efficiency, moving on to the next without hesitation.

I scoffed, gesturing to the extravagance surrounding us. “These ringers live like kings while we fight for scraps.” It’s likely that whomever lived here was a member of the Argent Council. A bunch of big shot ringers that control Remfall.

Ev paused, her expression hardening as she glanced at me over her shoulder. “Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean they don’t have their own struggles. Not every Ringer is the same.”

Her words grated on me. “I wonder where that comes from,” I shot back, my glare accusatory.

Ev’s face twisted in frustration, her nostrils flaring as she slammed a drawer shut. “Must you always have such a grim outlook on everything?!” she snapped, her voice trembling with anger.

She closed her eyes, drawing in a steadying breath. When she opened them again, her tone was calmer but still sharp. “We don’t have time for this.”

Senna stepped between us, his hands raised as if to physically hold the peace. “Ev’s right. I have no idea how long we have. I should’ve asked Frankie more questions before we left. Time might not be on our side.”

He turned toward the door, cracking it open just enough to peer into the hallway beyond. His expression stayed neutral, but his voice carried urgency when he spoke again. “Jack, did you see much of this place on your way here?”

I shook my head. “No, I came straight here as fast as I could.”

Senna nodded, his jaw tightening. “Right. Let’s split up. Scour the place quickly. Search every drawer, cabinet, box—anything that might give us a clue. Meet back here in half an hour.”

With a final glance between us, he gave a curt nod, signaling us to get moving.

Ev adjusted her hat before taking a sharp right, vanishing into another room. The clatter of drawers being yanked open and the crash of glass breaking followed almost immediately. I winced. Could she make any more noise?

The room beside hers was yet another shrine to wealth. Gold filigree and deep purple velvet adorned nearly every surface. I turned toward the left and spotted a pair of ornate double doors at the end of a short hallway. My curiosity got the better of me, so I slipped through them, leaving Senna behind.

The hallway beyond was quieter, the sound of Ev’s racket fading behind me. Portraits lined the walls, their subjects unfamiliar yet dressed in the kind of finery that practically screamed importance. TTheir painted eyes seemed to follow me as I made my way down the corridor.

At the end of the hallway stood a single ornate door, its golden handle gleaming in the low light. I hesitated for a moment before pulling it open. A cool breeze swept past me, carrying with it a faint, unpleasant scent—wet dog. My nose wrinkled as I opened the door wider.

“Whoa…” The word slipped out as I stepped into the room.

It was a workshop, unlike anything I’d seen before. A massive, semi-circular table dominated the center, cluttered with vials of vividly colored liquids in odd-shaped glass containers. The left wall was entirely covered by a sprawling two-story library, its shelves crammed with books and scrolls that looked older than the Sanctum itself. To the right, an intricate web of copper and brass pipes twisted and coiled toward the table, their metallic surfaces etched with strange, runic symbols that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light.

I approached the machine at the table’s center, drawn to the array of buttons and levers embedded in its base. My fingers hovered over them, but I hesitated, the chill running down my spine warning me against touching anything. Weird markings etched into the tubes caught my attention—symbols I didn’t recognize, but they seemed deliberate, purposeful.

A soft breeze brushed the back of my neck. I turned, noticing another door tucked into the corner. Following the draft, I pushed it open and found myself in a quaint office. The scent of wet dog was stronger here, clinging to the air like a warning. Trinkets and oddities decorated the room, each one meticulously placed. But my focus was drawn to the back, where a pair of elevator doors stood like a silent sentinel.

A single lever to call the elevator rested beside them, slick with grease. The smell was almost overpowering now. Glancing down, I noticed faint, wet tracks leading from the elevator and back into the workshop.

My stomach knotted. Is someone still here?

I swallowed hard, taking one last look around the office before slipping back into the hallway. My steps quickened as my mind raced. Senna and Ev could be in trouble. I had to warn them.

The worst-case scenarios swirled in my head as I approached the bedroom door. Shattering glass and gunshots pierced the air, followed by the screech of bending metal. My heart leapt into my throat.

Before I could open the door, it swung wide. Senna and Ev staggered out, both panting and battered. Ev’s crimson hair was tangled and caked with dirt, her clothes torn and bloodied. The hat I’d made her was gone. Senna’s wild eyes locked onto me as he scanned for injuries, his gun trembling in his hand.

“Senna, what’s going on?” I managed to stammer, fear tightening my throat.

He rushed toward me, pulling me into a quick, desperate hug before holding me at arm’s length. His wild eyes searched me for any sign of injury. When he saw I was unharmed, he exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “We were attacked,” he said grimly. “Some half-metal dog. Bullets barely slowed it down, but we managed to shove it off the balcony.”

Ev disappeared into the room, returning a moment later with her hat in hand. She offered me a weak smile that couldn’t hide her exhaustion. “Jack, did you find another way out? These things came from the elevator. We’re cornered unless there’s another exit.”

“T-there’s another elevator,” I stammered, my voice shaking. “In a room next to some kind of lab. I think the blueprints might be there.”

“We don’t have time for that,” Senna said firmly. “We need to leave—now. Do you remember where the elevator is?”

I nodded, giving them the directions as succinctly as I could.

Senna opened his mouth to respond, but a bone-chilling, high-pitched noise froze all of us in place. At the far end of the hallway, a half-metal dog emerged, its jaws snapping. The lower half of its face was a grotesque blend of flesh and jagged metal, saliva dripping from its razor-sharp teeth.

The noise came again, louder this time. A much larger creature stalked into view behind the first. It was a monstrosity, with two vertical glowing red eyes on each side of its grotesque head and six more on its snout. Its lips curled into a feral snarl, jagged teeth gnashing as saliva pooled and dripped to the floor. Its black fur gleamed unnaturally under the lights, its massive frame radiating raw power.

I froze, paralyzed by fear as the larger beast’s gaze locked onto me. Its fangs glinted as it snarled, and my mind went blank, unable to process anything beyond the primal terror coursing through me.

I barely registered the faint shout before I was violently shoved aside. Ev grabbed my arm and hauled me away just as the smaller dog lunged. Its roar echoed down the corridor as I stumbled forward. Glancing back, I saw Senna standing firm, his gun raised as he faced the monstrous black beast.

Senna always has a plan, I told myself, clinging desperately to the thought as Ev dragged me toward the workshop.