The biscuit factory's air turned to ice as Shade's voice sliced through the stillness, a guttural rasp that set the hum in Aadi's chest ablaze. The shadow loomed at the hall's far end, tall and deliberate, the curved blade in their hand glinting with dawn's gray light spilling through shattered panes.
Aadi's scars screamed, the comms unit's intel—"3 a.m., east ridge"—still fresh as he gripped his knife, blood pounding in his ears. Manisha swung the rifle up, her braid snapping, her stance taut as a wire. Neha clutched the notebook, glasses slipping, her breath a jagged gasp in the dust-choked quiet.
"Sloppy, kid," Shade growled, stepping forward, boots grinding biscuit crumbs into the floor. "Doubling back? Bold. Reckless. Axiom chews up mistakes."
Aadi's teeth clenched, the hum a feral roar drowning the fear clawing his gut. "We're not running," he spat, voice raw but steady. "You're alone—your mistake."
Shade's hood shifted, a dry laugh cutting the air. "Alone's where I thrive. Three brats with a toy gun and a dead man's scribbles? Pathetic."
Manisha's finger twitched near the trigger, eyes blazing. "Keep flapping. Next shot's your skull."
Shade twirled the blade, steel flashing against rust. "Try it. You'll choke on the recoil."
Aadi lunged, knife slashing, the hum a live wire—Shade met him head-on, blade clashing with his in a shower of sparks. The fight erupted, brutal and fast. Aadi ducked a vicious swipe, steel grazing his ear, blood hot on his neck. He drove his knife up, slicing Shade's forearm—red sprayed, staining the floor, but Shade didn't flinch, slamming a fist into Aadi's jaw. Bone cracked, stars burst, and he staggered, the hum shrieking—not yet.
Manisha fired, the rifle's roar deafening—bullets tore through a rusted motor, metal shrieking as Shade twisted behind a conveyor. Neha hurled a jagged gear, a desperate throw that clanged off a pipe—Shade snarled, charging her. His blade flashed, but Neha dodged, stumbling back. Shade's boot lashed out, catching her temple—she crumpled, glasses skittering across the floor, a dull thud as she hit the concrete, out cold.
"Neha!" Aadi roared, lunging—Shade spun, blade arcing low. Steel bit deep into his calf, slashing through muscle, a wet rip that dropped him hard. Blood gushed, hot and thick, pooling under him as his leg buckled. Pain seared, white-hot, his screams echoing off the rusted machines. He clawed at the floor, knife slipping from his grip, the hum a frantic wail—reset, reset—but he couldn't focus, couldn't trigger it through the agony.
Shade loomed over him, blood dripping from his arm, his blade slick with his. "Tough break, kid," Shade sneered, kicking Aadi's knife away. "Luck's out."
Manisha fired again, a wild burst—Shade ducked, the shot punching a hole in a conveyor belt. She charged, swinging the rifle like a club—Shade caught it mid-swing, wrenching it from her hands and hurling it aside. His blade flashed, slashing her forearm—she yelped, blood welling, but fought back, clawing at Shade's hood. He grabbed her braid, yanking her head back, and slammed her against a machine—metal groaned, and she gasped, tears streaking her dirt-smeared face as Shade pressed the blade to her throat.
"No!" Aadi screamed, dragging himself forward, nails scraping the concrete, blood trailing behind him. His calf was a shredded mess, useless, every move a knife of its own twisting deeper. The hum roared, helpless, as he watched Manisha's eyes widen, a thin red line blooming where the blade kissed her skin. She choked out a sob, tears spilling, her defiance cracking under the steel.
"Say goodbye," Shade hissed, their voice a venomous drawl, pressing harder—blood beaded, trickling down her neck.
Aadi clawed the floor, inches from his knife, his vision blurring with rage and pain. "Let her go!" he bellowed, voice breaking, the hum a desperate shriek—reset, do it—but his body wouldn't obey, trapped in the moment, watching his friends die.
"Enough," a new voice snapped from the shadows—low, sharp, cutting through the chaos. A figure stepped into the dim light, clad in dark gear, face obscured, a pistol glinting in his hand. "Shade, stand down. He's done."
Shade froze, blade still at Manisha's throat, his head turning slightly. "He's a glitch, Kael. Orders were clear—clean sweep."
The figure—Kael—raised the pistol, aiming at Shade's back. "Orders changed. He's bait now. Back off, or I drop you."
Shade's grip tightened, then eased, the blade pulling away from Manisha's neck. She collapsed, gasping, clutching her bleeding arm, tears streaming as she crawled toward Neha's limp form.
Shade stepped back, blood dripping from his own wounds, blade lowered but eyes locked on Aadi, a smirk curling beneath the hood. "Your move, kid. Tick-tock."
Aadi slumped, blood pooling beneath him, the hum a broken wail as darkness clawed his edges.
He'd failed—crawling, screaming, watching—and reset hovered just out of reach.