The corridor was a gauntlet of death with Harker's turrets embedded on both sides of the narrow hall. Their barrels locked and synchronized, with Harker's Inhuman capabilities observing Seeker's every twitch. Located on another building, Lowengren's Exoskeleton that was being controlled took aim with his sniper optics tracing ahead of Seeker. But his bullets were special. Bullets began to rain, each one humming with strange heat, tearing the air itself as they passed.
Seeker cursed as he stepped forward and began to harness more strength in his steps.
The shooters—Lowengren and Harker—were Inhumans. Their minds processed time in centiseconds, their fingers moved in imperceptible flickers, and their aim was absolute. They didn't miss. They couldn't. Their bullets weren't just metal—they were lies and trust made manifest, twisted into projectiles that could shatter even virtual invincibility.
Seeker dove forward. Not in desperation—but with calculation. The Passover would begin.
