The moment they crossed the threshold, the air shifted—drier, heavier, as though the structure had been sealed off from time itself.
Dust clung to the edges of broken tiles, and the faint echo of their footsteps stretched too far ahead of them.
Sean lifted a hand slightly, signaling her to stay close behind.
“Stay within three steps,” he said quietly.
“Don’t lose visual.”
Linn swallowed and followed.
They moved deeper into the abandoned warehouse, the silence inside almost deliberate.
Each corner they passed felt wrong—too still, too arranged.
As though something had been recently disturbed, then carefully reset.
Sean paused near a split corridor.
His eyes flicked left, then right.
Then—
A faint metallic sound.
A shift.
Barely audible.
Sean’s posture changed instantly.
“Movement.”
He took the left corridor without hesitation, gun raised, his steps silent and precise.
Linn followed as quickly as she could, her breathing tightening with every second.
The sound came again—closer now.
A drag of fabric.
A rushed step trying to be quiet.
Sean turned sharply at the end of the hall.
A man.
Partially concealed by tactical gear, he was scrambling toward a side exit.
“Contact,” Sean said instantly into his earpiece.
“Visual confirmed.”
The man froze for a split second, then ran.
Sean broke into pursuit.
“Move!”
Linn hesitated for half a heartbeat before following, adrenaline forcing her legs forward.
The chase cut through narrow hallways and broken storage rooms, footsteps ricocheting off metal walls.
The man was fast, but Sean steadily closed the gap, his expression unreadable, weapon lowered but ready.
A single glance over his shoulder was enough to slow the man’s momentum.
Sean immediately took advantage of it.
He lunged forward, forcing the man into a corridor blocked by collapsed crates.
No exit.
Cornered, the man spun around with his weapon raised, but Sean reacted first.
A shot cracked through the air.
The man ducked behind cover, returning fire instantly.
Bullets slammed into metal shelves, sending sparks and debris flying.
Linn froze at the edge of the corridor, instinct screaming at her to move—but her body locked for a second too long.
Her mind short-circuited the moment the gunfire started.
This was not like the violence she had only ever seen in movies before.
This was happening directly in front of her.
Real bullets.
The deafening crack of gunshots echoed through the narrow corridor.
Sparks flew from shattered metal, and the sight of two people trying to kill each other only meters away overwhelmed her senses all at once.
For the first time in her life, she was witnessing violence this closely.
Her brain could not process it fast enough for her body to react.
“Don’t stay exposed!” Sean called out, not looking back.
His voice was steady even under fire.
He stepped forward.
Another shot.
Closer.
Then another.
He shifted—too late by a fraction.
The bullet struck the edge of his weapon, the metal ringing sharply in the enclosed space.
His grip loosened, and the gun slipped from his hand, hitting the concrete with a heavy clatter before sliding out of reach.
Sean exhaled through his nose, his expression barely changing, though his eyes sharpened instantly.
The man raised his weapon but did not fire immediately, holding his aim steady for a fraction longer than necessary.
Then another shot cracked through the air.
Sean twisted sideways, the bullet skimming past his shoulder before embedding itself in the concrete wall behind him.
Another shot followed almost instantly, forcing him back into what little cover remained—just enough angle, just enough distance.
The man advanced slowly, firing in measured bursts—not to kill, but to control.
Every shot cut off another path, keeping Sean away from the dropped weapon.
Sean realized it quickly.
His eyes flicked toward the gun lying on the floor before returning to the man.
Irritation finally slipped through his usual composure.
He had not expected this level of aggression.
This was not an attempt to end the fight quickly.
The man was dragging it out, controlling the space with every pull of the trigger and forcing Sean to react instead of act.
Another shot snapped through the corridor, grazing close enough to sting the air beside him.
Sean shifted sharply, movements tightening as he tried to read the pattern behind the attacks.
Still precise.
Still controlled.
No openings.
Only pressure. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Every attempt to move forward was immediately cut off.
The weapon on the floor remained just out of reach, almost deliberately so.
Sean adjusted his footing again, finally abandoning the idea of reclaiming it.
Instead, he focused entirely on the man—the timing, the angles, the intent behind each movement.
Another bullet tore past him.
Still refusing to miss where it mattered.
Suddenly, a sharp hiss cut through the corridor before a canister hit the ground and burst.
Smoke bloomed instantly, thick and blinding, swallowing the space within seconds.
The gunfire ceased just as abruptly, leaving behind a silence that felt deeply wrong.
Sean’s vision disappeared into shifting gray.
Linn felt it immediately—the shift in the air, the sudden absence of sound.
The smoke reached her, curling around her legs and rising fast enough to steal her sight.
Her chest tightened.
She stepped back, forcing herself to think past the panic.
A shape moved through the haze.
Not where Sean had been.
Closer.
The man stepped out of the smoke, his outline sharpening just enough for her to see the weapon in his hand.
For a split second, she froze.
Then instinct took over.
She turned and ran.
Her footsteps echoed too loudly through the hollow building as she pushed forward, direction uncertain.
Behind her were footsteps.
Measured.
Controlled.
Closing in.
She veered into a side corridor and slipped behind a half-collapsed stack of metal shelving, crouching low as dust shifted beneath her weight.
Rusted panels and broken crates gave her just enough cover to break the line of sight.
She pressed a hand over her mouth, forcing her breathing to quiet.
The footsteps passed the intersection.
Then slowed.
Linn stayed still.
Every second stretched, her pulse pounding in her ears as she listened for any change in movement.
Static crackled in her earpiece.
“Parallax. Status?” Jion’s voice came through, steady but edged.
Linn hesitated, the codename sitting wrong on her tongue.
“I—I am inside,” she whispered.
“Lucifer was with me, but I don’t know where he is now.”
“Lucifer is not responding. His signal just cut,” Jion said, his voice firmer now.
“Stay with me. Backup is on the way. You need to hold out for a bit.”
Hold out for a bit.
Linn closed her eyes for a second, breathing slowly.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Her hands trembled, but she pressed them against her knees to steady them.
A faint sound echoed down the corridor.
Hold out for a bit.
She opened her eyes and forced herself to think.
Broken shelves.
Scattered debris.
Empty corners.
Nothing useful.
No weapon.
No distraction.
No clear way out.
Her breathing tightened as the situation became impossible to ignore.
If she stayed hidden, she would eventually be found.
If she ran again, she would only keep being chased.
She had nothing to fight back with.
Waiting for backup was no guarantee, either.
There was only one thing left to try—she had to face him.
Not because she wanted to, but because it was the only part of the situation she could still control.
Talking might buy her time.
Distract him.
Slow him down long enough for backup to arrive.
She took a breath and slowly stepped out from behind the metal shelves, forcing her body to move despite the fear tightening in her chest.
Smoke still drifted through the corridor in uneven waves, blurring the dim emergency lights overhead and making the abandoned warehouse feel even more claustrophobic.
A figure emerged through the haze ahead of her.
He stood several meters away, weapon already raised.
Linn froze, her pulse slamming against her ribs.
But as the seconds passed, something about the situation began to feel wrong.
The man had a clear shot, more than enough time to pull the trigger.
Yet he did nothing.
If he wanted her dead, she would already be dead.
The realization settled uneasily in her mind.
She swallowed, forcing herself to keep her breathing steady.
“What do you want?”
“Wrong question.” The man took another slow step forward, the gun never lowering.
“You should be asking how long you have left.”
Fear crawled sharply up her spine, but she forced herself to think past it.
The way he moved was too controlled.
Too deliberate.
Earlier, he had trapped Sean instead of killing him outright.
Even now, he was cornering her rather than taking the shot.
None of it matched the behavior of someone trying to eliminate a target quickly.
“You are not trying to kill me,” she said carefully.
The smallest pause followed—tiny and barely noticeable.
But Linn caught it.
She narrowed her eyes slightly.
“You hesitate every time you get a clear shot.”
The man adjusted his grip on the gun, subtle enough that most people would have missed it.
Linn’s thoughts raced despite the panic pressing against her chest.
He was trained and disciplined, but he was also observing her—testing her reactions, controlling the situation instead of ending it.
So she gambled.
“If you needed information from me, killing me would be stupid.”
Still no answer.
Then suddenly, the atmosphere changed.
The man closed the distance in a blur of movement, grabbing Linn’s wrist hard enough to wrench her forward before slamming her against the metal shelves beside her.
The impact knocked the breath from her lungs.
Before she could recover, the barrel of the gun pressed sharply against her forehead.
Her mind blanked.
Then survival instinct took over.
She drove her knee upward blindly, the hit forcing the man back just enough for her to shove him away and run.
Gunfire exploded behind her almost instantly.
A bullet tore through the metal shelf beside her head, fragments spraying across her cheek as she turned sharply into another corridor.
Her breathing became uneven as she ran.
No exit.
No weapon.
No idea where Sean had gone.
No idea when backup would arrive.
Another gunshot cracked behind her, closer this time.
She rounded the next corner and immediately stopped.
Dead end.
Her chest tightened violently as footsteps echoed toward her again.
She backed away instinctively until her shoulders hit the concrete wall.
The man emerged with the same calm posture as before, gun raised without hesitation.
Her eyes darted around desperately for anything usable.
Then she saw it.
A rusted metal pipe buried beneath fallen debris near the wall.
The man kept approaching.
Three meters.
Two.
Linn kicked the unstable shelf beside her with everything she had.
The metal structure collapsed instantly with a deafening crash, forcing the man to shift sideways as debris slammed between them.
She lunged for the pipe and swung blindly through the dust and smoke.
The impact connected hard enough to knock the gun off target, the shot firing uselessly into the ceiling instead.
Concrete dust burst downward.
The man caught her wrist immediately afterward, twisting her arm sharply as the pipe slipped from her hand and clattered against the floor.
Panic crashed through her chest as she struggled against his grip.
Then—
He hesitated.
Just for a second.
Linn noticed.
Without thinking, she grabbed the knife from his side holster and drove her elbow hard into his stomach.
The man stumbled back for the first time.
She immediately snatched the dropped gun from the floor, aiming it at his head with shaking hands.
Both of them froze.
Smoke drifted silently between them while she struggled to steady her breathing, her finger trembling against the trigger.
The man laughed quietly.
Not mocking.
Interested.
“Well, that escalated fast,” a familiar voice called from several meters away.
Linn’s expression faltered.
Sean stepped casually out of the smoke, completely unharmed.
The man calmly removed the silicon mask from his face.
Jace.
Linn stared at them blankly.
“…What the hell?”