Lilly reached the breaker panel.
Every breath was smoke. Every step a prayer.
She tore open the rusted door and jammed her knife into the false back, prying until metal groaned and snapped.
She found it—a tiny metal plate tucked behind wires and dust. A name, carved in cruel lines. The secret Alyx died for.
But before she could read it—
CRACK.
The sound split the world apart.
Lilly staggered.
A red bloom blossomed on her stomach.
She looked down, confusion flashing before pain hit her like a freight train. Her knees buckled.
She collapsed.
"No—LILLY!"
Sam's voice cracked in half as she ran, gun already in hand, the color draining from her face.
Lilly clutched her side, blood leaking fast through her fingers, eyes wide and glassy. "I—I'm fine," she gasped, but the lie that tasted like metal.
Sam didn't even look.
Didn't ask.
Didn't hesitate.
She stood.
Turned.
And snapped.
The first shot went clean through the forehead of the man who pulled the trigger.
The second dropped his backup before he could blink.
Then she moved.
Not like a little girl.
Not like a damsel.
Like a goddamn storm.
She shot low, dropped to her knees, slid behind cover, fired again—each shot a scream for the girl bleeding behind her.
"YOU DON'T GET TO TOUCH HER!"
Another down.
Two more tried to flank.
Didn't make it.
The world narrowed to fire, smoke, and the smell of gunpowder.
Sam reloaded like she'd been born with the gun in her hand, tears streaking her face, rage in her veins.
She didn't stop.
Didn't blink.
Didn't breathe.
Not until the last body hit the ground.