Underground Line 6 — Tunnels between Greystone and Rivergate
5:42 PM
Air damp and vibrating with the distant rumble of another train.
Jackim leapt from the platform, landing hard on the gravel between the tracks.
Pain shot up his ankle but he pushed forward, sprinting into the yawning blackness.
Behind him: boots hitting the ground, voices shouting.
Ahead: only the sharp, endless echo of the tunnel.
Claire Voss cursed under her breath, adjusting her grip on the compact pistol hidden under her jacket.
She moved faster, more fluid than her teammates — a shadow among clumsy wolves.
"Trap him at the crossover!" she barked into her comm.
Static crackled.
Then silence.
The city itself seemed to hold its breath.
---
Tanglewood Overpass — Upper Haidan
6:10 PM
A light drizzle beginning to fall over broken roads.
Susan stood under the massive concrete bridge, high heels tapping against the damp ground.
She adjusted the diamond-studded cuff around her wrist, her gown replaced with a black leather jacket and tight jeans hugging her perfect curves.
A Ducati roared toward her — sleek, predatory.
The rider pulled up short.
Black helmet. Black gloves.
Susan swung her leg over effortlessly, sliding behind the rider without a word.
The city blurred around them as they sped into the storm.
She had her own mission tonight.
And Jackim wasn't the only one being hunted.
---
Emergency Crossover Tunnel
6:17 PM
Rust flakes drifting like red snow.
Jackim ducked through a maintenance hatch, lungs burning.
He stumbled into a narrow passage lit only by flickering emergency lights.
Footsteps thundered behind him.
A figure appeared at the far end — Claire, gun raised.
Jackim skidded to a stop.
She didn't hesitate.
One shot.
The bullet tore past his ear, grazing the concrete.
Jackim threw himself sideways, crashing into a stack of old equipment.
Claire advanced, calm, deliberate, like a lioness closing the final distance.
"You should've stayed quiet," she said, voice flat.
Jackim grabbed a rusty pipe from the ground, swinging wildly.
Claire dodged easily, grabbing his wrist and twisting — painfully.
Jackim grunted, but didn't let go.
Instead, he pulled her in, ramming his shoulder into her gut.
Claire staggered.
Jackim bolted past her, heart hammering against his ribs.
---
Abandoned Control Room
6:22 PM
Air tasting like dust and decay.
Jackim slammed the door shut behind him, shoving a broken chair under the handle.
He collapsed against the wall, every muscle trembling.
Through the cracked window, he could see the city lights, blurry and golden against the rain.
The city felt so close — but it might as well have been another universe.
On the grimy floor beside him, an old security map caught his eye.
He studied it quickly, fingers tracing the faded lines.
A maintenance shaft.
Barely a crawlspace — but it led all the way to the surface.
He could still make it out.
If he moved fast.
If he survived the next ten minutes.
---
Highridge District
6:45 PM
Rain falling harder, splashing against marble sidewalks.
Susan stepped off the Ducati, pulling her helmet free.
Her golden hair was damp, curling around her sharp jawline.
Under the streetlamp, her caramel skin looked like molten bronze.
Without glancing back, she strode into the towering glass building — the heart of Vincent Cross's empire.
Receptionists froze as she passed.
Security guards whispered into their radios.
Susan smiled sweetly.
They had no idea the monster they had just let inside.
She tapped a message into her phone with perfectly manicured fingers:
> "Phase One Complete. - S."
She slipped the device back into her pocket.
By the time anyone figured out what she was here to do, it would already be far too late.
---
Emergency Maintenance Shaft
6:48 PM
Pipes dripping cold water onto cracked concrete.
Jackim crawled on hands and knees, every scrape of movement echoing around him.
Above: voices shouting, boots thudding.
They were getting closer.
He could smell the oily scent of gunmetal.
He could hear Claire barking orders — relentless, focused.
But Jackim wasn't the same boy who had stumbled into this city.
Not anymore.
He gritted his teeth, hauling himself upward toward the thin sliver of light above.
Freedom.
Or a new kind of hell.
Either way, there was no turning back.
Not tonight.
Not ever again.
---