Maya sprinted through the dense forest surrounding the facility, her breaths steady and controlled. The high-tech suit she wore reduced friction and noise, letting her move quietly through the underbrush.

The cool air rushed past her. She wasn’t focused on the path ahead. Instead, her mind raced with thoughts of what she had just seen and the ongoing mission.

Ezra’s voice sounded in her ear. It was calm, but it carried a sense of urgency. “Maya, you’re clear for now. Keep heading north. Yamal’s guiding you toward the extraction point.”

Yamal chimed in immediately. “No movement from the guards outside the facility. They’re probably still unaware of what’s going on inside.”

Maya looked back as the light from the facility started to disappear. “That's the suspicious thing about all of this,” she said quietly.

“Sorry. But what do you mean by that, Maya? Did we miss something?” Ezra asked, his tone sharp with concern.

Maya slowed her pace slightly, her instincts buzzing. “It’s too easy. No alarms, no pursuit, no resistance. Alexander doesn’t seem like the type to let anyone just walk away.”

There was a pause before Yamal’s voice cut through, laced with realization. “They weren’t after you.”

Maya’s breath hitched as the pieces fell into place. “They’re targeting Mark.”

Ezra’s tone hardened. “Damn it!"

He continued, "It’s a setup. Alexander, let you go to isolate Mark.”

Maya’s jaw clenched, and her pace quickened. “I need to go back.”

“No!” Yamal snapped, his tone uncharacteristically forceful. “If you go back, you’ll only get in the way. Alexander’s focused on Mark for a reason, and Mark knew what he was walking into.”

“That’s not—” Maya began, but Ezra interrupted.

“Listen, Maya. Mark’s buying you time for a reason. You need to get out and regroup with us. If you go back now, you risk compromising everything. Trust Mark.”

Maya’s fists tightened at her sides as frustration built in her chest. She hated leaving Mark behind, but she knew they were right. Mark wasn’t the type to act impulsively. If he’d ordered her to leave, it was because he had a plan.

“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “But the second we regroup, we’re going back in for him.”

“Agreed,” Yamal said, his tone firm. “Now focus. You’ve got about two kilometers to cover.”

Yamal was not telling the truth. It was impossible for a rescue mission with just the four of them. Mark had always been their pillar in any operation.

***

The situation inside the facility was nowhere near good for Mark. He and Alexander circled each other. The place they were in right now was a mess, but luckily, none of the chambers were destroyed yet.

Both of them were calculative in their attack. For Mark, he could not allow any more of those artificial Ascendants to join the fight. For Alexander, he could not allow any damage to the subjects.

Still, the place was filled with the remnants of their earlier clash—scorch marks marred the walls, and some of the dead bodies of the cloaked figures were scattered on the ground.

Alexander smirked, his calm demeanor restored. “It seems your partner made it out. How noble of you to play the decoy.”

Mark didn’t rise to the bait. His sharp eyes were locked on Alexander, his body poised to move at a moment’s notice. “I’m not here for games, Alexander. Whatever you’re planning, it ends now.”

Alexander chuckled, the sound low and mocking. “You think you can stop this? You’re a footnote, Mark. A relic of a bygone era, clinging to outdated principles. The LaRues are shaping the future, and you’re just a speck in the way.”

Mark’s flames flared slightly at his hands, a subtle warning. “You talk too much.”

Alexander’s smile widened. “And you don’t talk enough. Let’s see how far that gets you.”

With a sudden burst of motion, Alexander lunged forward, his hands wreathed in dark crimson flames. Mark faced him directly, and their fire collided in a bright explosion of heat and light.

The impact sent shockwaves through the chamber, shaking the walls and scattering debris.

Alexander struck quickly and fiercely, with each hit meant to overpower his opponent. But Mark’s movements were precise and efficient, countering each attack with a calm intensity that left no openings. It was a dance of fire and fury, each man testing the other’s limits.

“You’re holding back,” Alexander said, his voice sharp with irritation as he launched a spiraling flame toward Mark. “Afraid to show your true strength?”

Mark sidestepped the attack, his counterstrike a controlled burst of fire that forced Alexander to retreat. “Or maybe you’re just not worth it.”

Alexander growled, his composure slipping. “Arrogant as ever.”

Their battle raged on, the heat in the room growing oppressive. Mark’s focus never wavered, but his mind remained aware of the larger picture. He needed to keep Alexander occupied long enough for Maya to escape—and long enough for the Ghosts to get back to the city.

Alexander’s flames intensified, their dark hue deepening as he poured more energy into his attacks. The ground beneath them cracked and scorched under the pressure.

“You’re not walking out of here alive,” Alexander said, his tone low and menacing. “The LaRues will finish what they started, and you’ll be nothing but ash.”

Mark’s response was a faint smirk, his voice steady. “Then I’ll make sure you regret every second you spent underestimating me.”

***

Inside the sleek black SUV speeding away from the facility, Maya’s voice echoed in the confined space, frantic and filled with fury.

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“Turn around, Yamal!” she shouted, her fists pounding against the dashboard. “We can’t leave him there!”

Yamal’s hands tightened on the wheel, his jaw clenched as he navigated the winding forest roads. “We’re following Mark’s orders, Maya! He knew what he was doing.”

“Orders?!” Maya spat, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. “He’s in there fighting Alexander alone! You call that a plan?”

Ezra, seated in the passenger seat, shot her a sharp look, his usual calm demeanor strained. “Maya, we don’t have the firepower or numbers to go back. Not without Steve."

He paused before adding, "Still, even with the four of us together, we wouldn’t stand a chance against Alexander, let alone whatever else is lurking in that facility.”

Maya’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the back of Ezra’s seat. “You’re just going to let him die? Is that it? What’s the point of this team if we abandon our leader when he needs us most?”

Ezra’s gaze softened slightly, though his voice remained firm. “Mark made his choice to protect you. To protect us.”

Maya’s frustration increased, and she breathed heavily. “You don’t understand! We’re not just a team—we’re family!" And you’re asking me to just sit here and do nothing while he—”

Her words broke off as Ezra turned sharply in his seat, his eyes blazing with an intensity Maya rarely saw. “Enough, Maya! Do you think it is easy for us? We all care for Mark, too. But we can't let emotions cloud our judgment!”

Maya’s lips trembled, her anger colliding with the raw truth in Ezra’s words. For a moment, the SUV was filled only with the sound of the roaring engine and the distant hum of the facility fading behind them.

Yamal’s voice broke the tense silence, low but steady. “Mark isn’t someone who’d throw himself into a fight he couldn’t handle. He’s buying us time to regroup. If we hurry back now, we will just end up helping them finish their project—and that’s the last thing he wants.”

Maya’s chest tightened as she struggled to control her feelings. The thought of leaving Mark behind felt heavy, almost like a physical weight. “I can’t… I can’t just leave him…”

Ezra exchanged a brief glance with Yamal, his expression grim. “Maya,” he said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

Before she could reply, Ezra took a small, cylinder-shaped device from his suit. It gave off a soft humming sound when he turned it on, and Maya’s eyes widened with fear.

“No—don’t you dare—”

A wave of energy surged over her, and she slumped forward as she lost consciousness. Ezra caught her before she could fall and carefully placed her back in her seat.

Yamal glanced at him in the rearview mirror, his expression conflicted. “That was your solution?”

Ezra nodded, his voice heavy. “A neural disruptor. Temporary but effective. I didn’t want to use it on her, but she wasn’t going to stop.”

Yamal exhaled slowly, his grip on the wheel relaxing slightly. “You did the right thing. She would’ve gone back there alone, and we both know how that would’ve ended.”

Ezra adjusted Maya’s position to ensure she was comfortable and his jaw tight. “She’ll hate me for this.”

“She’ll understand,” Yamal said firmly. “Eventually.”

Ezra leaned back in his seat, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “Mark better make it out of there alive. For all our sakes.”

The SUV sped into the night, the weight of their decision settling heavily in the air. Though none of them said it aloud, the unspoken truth hung between them.

Leaving Mark behind was the hardest decision they had ever made.

***

Mark breathed heavily, and sweat covered his body. Flames flickered around him, creating strange shadows on the walls. He stood his ground as cloaked figures continued to close in.

Their movements were jerky yet coordinated, their glowing eyes and distorted energy signatures giving away their artificial origins. But what truly unsettled Mark was the metallic sheen of their right arms—each equipped with a bio-weapon that radiated destructive power.

Mark’s voice was steady despite the chaos. “You’ve gone too far, Alexander. This isn’t science—it’s madness.”

Across the room, Alexander stood tall, his suit pristine and his expression infuriatingly calm. “Madness?” he repeated, his tone almost amused. “No, Mark. This is progress. What you see here is the future.”

Mark’s sharp eyes scanned the cloaked figures surrounding him, calculating his next move. “You’re creating abominations. Whatever these things are, they’re unstable.”

Alexander chuckled, raising a hand to gesture at the figures. “Unstable, yes. But their power is undeniable. And soon, they will be perfected.”

One of the cloaked figures lunged at Mark, its robotic arm glowing with a sinister orange hue. Mark sidestepped smoothly, his body moving with practiced precision. His counterattack was swift—a burst of flames that engulfed the figure and sent it crashing into the wall.

The flames flickered out as the figure collapsed to the ground, its robotic arm sparking violently before going still. But for every one Mark took down, two more seemed to emerge from the shadows.

Mark muttered under his breath, his tone tinged with frustration. “Numbers aren’t on my side here.”

Another cloaked figure charged, its arm transforming into a cannon-like weapon. It fired a concentrated blast of energy that tore through the air, leaving scorch marks on the floor as Mark narrowly dodged.

He retaliated with a spinning kick, flames igniting around his leg as he struck the figure squarely in the chest. The force of the impact sent it flying, but as it hit the ground, two more took its place.

The number of opponents was starting to wear on him. These artificial fighters may not have the skills of real warriors, but their constant attacks and powerful weapons make them dangerous.

Alexander watched from afar, his arms crossed and a small smile on his face. “Struggling, are we? I expected more from someone of your reputation, Mark.”

Mark didn’t respond; his focus was entirely on the battle. He launched a series of fiery punches, creating a short barrier between himself and the approaching figures.

But the break didn’t last long. One of the cloaked figures activated its weapon—a large hammer that crackled with energy—and swung it at him.

Mark ducked just in time, the hammer slamming into the floor and sending shards of concrete flying. He countered with a blast of fire that scorched the figure’s torso, but the others were already closing in.

Another figure raised its arm, which had transformed into a sharp, spear-like weapon. It lunged at Mark, the tip glowing ominously. Mark caught the weapon with both hands, his flames melting the metal slightly, but the force of the attack pushed him back several steps.

“Persistent bastards,” Mark muttered, gritting his teeth as he kicked the figure away.

Alexander’s calm voice carried through the chaos. “You’re wasting your energy, Mark. You know you can’t win.”

Mark glanced at him, his eyes blazing. “I don’t need to win. I just need to destroy everything here.”

Alexander’s smile widened. “How noble. But that's not possible.”

With a quick movement, Alexander created a stream of flames that rushed toward Mark. Mark responded with his own fire, and the two flames collided in a bright explosion that shook the room. The cloaked figures were momentarily thrown off balance, giving Mark a sliver of an opening.

He rushed forward, quickly striking each figure in his way with precise, fire-infused hits. For a moment, it looked like he was making progress, using his greater skill and experience to keep up.

More figures came out of the shadows, and there were too many to count. Mark barely had time to react as one of them fired a concentrated beam of energy from its robotic arm. He managed to dodge, but the blast grazed his shoulder, the heat searing through his suit.

He staggered slightly, but his resolve didn’t waver. “If this is your idea of a fight, Alexander, you’re losing your edge.”

Alexander’s expression darkened slightly, his calm facade cracking just enough to reveal a flicker of irritation. “You talk too much, Mark. Let’s see how long that bravado lasts.”

Alexander raised both hands, flames erupting around him in a fiery aura. With a swift motion, he hurled a massive fireball directly at Mark. Mark braced himself, summoning his own flames to shield against the attack, but the force of the impact sent him skidding backward.

Before he could recover, one of the cloaked figures capitalized on the opening. Its robotic arm shifted into a bladed weapon, slashing toward Mark with deadly precision. He blocked the strike with his forearm, flames flaring up to deflect the blade, but the relentless assault continued.

Another figure joined in, its weapon morphing into a spiked mace. Mark ducked and weaved, his movements fluid but growing slower as exhaustion began to set in.

And then it happened.

Alexander, with his bright aura shining, quickly closed the gap between them. His fist, surrounded by flames, hit Mark’s chest with great force.

The blow hit Mark hard and knocked him into the wall, creating a deep dent. He fell to the ground and coughed as pain spread through his body.

Alexander approached slowly, his steps deliberate and his expression smug. “You put up a good fight, Mark. I’ll give you that. But it’s over.”

Mark struggled to stand up, his flames flickering weakly around him. He was breathing heavily, but he looked determined. “Not… yet,” he rasped.