Kyon’s lungs burned with each step as he and Sia crept through the dim stairwell. The distant echo of boots on concrete reached his ears, faint but deliberate. They weren’t far behind. His sixth sense—the uncanny awareness gifted by EchoFlux—painted a picture of the hunters’ movements. They were closing in with precision and discipline, blocking the ways out.

“They’re moving like clockwork,” Sia whispered, her voice barely audible over the faint hum of tension in the air. Her grip on her dagger was firm, her knuckles pale. “Some in the elevator, some below us. They’re setting a net.”

“They don’t know we can sense them,” Kyon replied, keeping his voice low. He glanced at her, his breath ragged but steadying. “That’s our advantage.”

He felt his body knitting itself back together, the lingering effects of his injuries dulling as his regenerative abilities slowly kicked in. It wasn’t fast enough for comfort, but it was something. Sia had noticed it too, her gaze flicking to him every so often with a mix of concern and guarded hope.

“They’re using formation tactics,” Sia murmured, her eyes scanning the shadowy stairwell below. “Covering all angles, minimizing risk. They’re good.”

Kyon nodded grimly. The hunters moved with a level of training he hadn’t seen before. Every team member was a cog in a well-oiled machine. They carried Arguros Metal weapons—deadly against both vampires and Flux users like him. Bullets, knives, and nets designed to neutralize abilities and pin their targets down.

He clenched his fists. "They’re efficient. Too efficient.”

In the van parked outside, the operator kept his eyes glued to multiple monitors, fingers flying over a console. Each team’s movements were tracked, their positions relayed in clipped, precise instructions.

“Team One, hold the lobby. Ensure all civilians stay in place. We can’t have interference,” the operator said into his headset.

“Understood,” came the curt reply.

Inside the hotel, Team Two moved through the twelfth floor corridor, sweeping the rooms with near-silent precision. Each door was locked remotely by the operator, ensuring no civilians could accidentally stumble into the hunters’ path.

“Target’s still on this floor,” one team member reported, his voice calm but focused. He adjusted a device clipped to his belt, which pulsed faintly as it scanned for Flux signatures. “They’re not far.”

“Team Three, status?” the operator asked.

“Descending the stairwell,” came the response. “Minimal noise. We’re five floors down from the target and closing in.”

Captain Riggs, the leader overseeing the operation from the second floor, listened to the updates with a faint smirk. “Good. Don’t engage until we have them boxed in. Push them higher if needed. Elevators are under our control.”

The operator nodded, his hands adjusting the camera angles. “We’ll guide them where we want. Teams, remember: no mistakes. Arguros weapons only. If they get past you, it’s on your heads.”

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I could feel them moving. Not just with my ears or my eyes, but with something deeper—my sixth sense picking up on the sharp, cold precision of their intent. These weren’t amateurs. Their formations were tight, disciplined. Every movement they made was calculated, a cog in a larger machine designed to crush people like me.

Sia crouched next to me on the landing, her breath steady, her body tense like a coiled spring. She was ready to fight, even if she knew the odds weren’t in our favor.

“They’re sweeping the floors, clearing rooms,” I whispered. “And they’ve got the stairwell covered too.”

“They’re funneling us,” she replied, her voice low. “If we keep going down, we’ll hit them. If we go up…”

“Another team waiting for us,” I finished. “They’ve planned this too well.”

My wounds throbbed faintly, but I could feel the slow pulse of healing beneath my skin. It wasn’t enough. Not yet. But I couldn’t let Sia see how much it was draining me just to stay on my feet.

“Let’s move,” I said. “We can’t stay here.”

In the van, the operator frowned at the monitors. The scanner on the twelfth floor was showing faint interference—subtle fluctuations that indicated the targets were on the move.

“They’re heading higher,” the operator reported. “Team Two, adjust position. Cut them off at the fourteenth floor.”

“Copy that,” replied the team leader.

The hunters in the stairwell moved silently, their boots barely making a sound against the concrete steps. Two of them carried rifles loaded with Arguros Metal bullets, while the third wielded a net launcher designed to immobilize even the most agile targets.

“They’re above us,” one of them said, glancing at his handheld scanner.

“Stay close, but don’t spook them,” another replied. “If they panic, they’ll try something desperate.”

We slipped through the doorway onto another floor, the air thick with the stifling quiet of abandoned luxury. The faint hum of the elevator shaft whispered to my ears, and my sixth sense pulsed a warning—two signatures, moving fast, coming up.

“They’re in the elevators,” Sia said, her voice barely audible.

I nodded, my breath coming short and sharp. “They’re almost here. We can’t go back to the stairs.”

“We’ll have to avoid them,” Sia said, her dagger at the ready. “If we can get past this floor, maybe we can double back.”

The floor felt empty, but I knew better. Civilians had been locked in their rooms, probably terrified but unharmed. The hunters weren’t after them. They wanted us.

And then, faint but undeniable, I felt it—a Flux signature stronger than anything else in the building, moving with deliberate purpose. It wasn’t just any Flux user.

“Lawrence,” I murmured.

Sia glanced at me sharply. “He’s close?”

“Closer than before,” I said. “But he’s not alone. There’s someone with him—strong, a vampire.”

Her expression darkened. “Conrad’s people.”

I nodded grimly. The hunters and vampires circling each other, all while hunting us, made this even more dangerous. If we made one wrong move, we’d fall into their trap—or worse, get caught between them.

Sia pulled me toward the far end of the corridor, her movements quick and quiet. “We keep moving. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

In the stairwell, Team Three paused on the thirteenth floor landing. The scanner pulsed steadily, its readings growing stronger.

“They’re close,” one of the hunters said, his voice calm. “Two signatures. Moving toward the far side of the floor.”

“Team Two, converge from the opposite side,” Captain Riggs’s voice crackled in their comms. “Do not engage until we have them completely contained.”

“Understood,” Team Two’s leader replied.

From the van, the operator monitored their positions, switching between camera feeds. The targets were moving unpredictably, slipping in and out of the hunters’ carefully constructed net.

“They’re avoiding us,” the operator muttered. “Damn sixth sense.”

Every step was a gamble, every breath a test of control. The hunters weren’t far—they never were—but somehow, we stayed just ahead of them. My sixth sense flared again, and I pulled Sia into an alcove as the elevator doors opened at the other end of the hall.

Two hunters stepped out, their movements crisp and silent. They didn’t speak, but I could feel the weight of their intent as they scanned the corridor.

Sia pressed a hand to my chest, keeping me still. Her pulse thudded faintly against my senses, steady despite the danger.

“They’re methodical,” I whispered. “But we can outpace them.”

She nodded, her grip on her dagger tightening. “Let’s move before they close in.”