The facility pulsed with the relentless wail of the self-destruct alarm. Red emergency lights flashed, turning the halls into a distorted nightmare of flickering shadows and pulsing crimson. The ground beneath us rumbled, metal groaning under the stress of whatever explosives had been rigged to this place.
And yet, instead of running, Anthony and I were diving deeper into the facility.
Because if this place went up in flames, it wouldn't just be us who died. The people above ground—Sienna—would be caught in the blast.
"Alright, boss," Anthony said, his tone eerily calm, as if we weren't sprinting toward a terminal deathtrap. "Let's find that control panel."
I was used to being in charge, but I wasn't stupid. If anyone knew how to navigate a collapsing, booby-trapped secret base, it was the spy.
Anthony's Espionage skills kicked in immediately.
His eyes scanned everything—the way cameras twitched to track us, the way certain sections of the floor looked too clean, the faint outlines of hidden panels in the walls.
"Direct route's a no-go," he muttered. "Too many motion sensors. If we try it, we're triggering more lockdowns."
"Then what do you suggest?" I asked.
I followed his gaze to a ventilation shaft just above one of the abandoned doorways.
I raised an eyebrow. "You want us to crawl through a vent? Seriously?"
"Look, boss, I get it—you're too dignified for tight spaces after watching me nearly die in that door."
I gave him a flat look.
"But," he continued, "if we take this route, we bypass at least four silent alarm triggers and two laser grids. Unless you wanna tango with a security system that might have kill drones, this is our best shot."
I braced my hands against the wall, hoisting myself up. I wasn't a gymnast, but thanks to my Firefighter job, I had more than enough upper body strength to get into the vent first. Anthony followed, moving with practiced efficiency.
We crawled through the cramped passage, the metal groaning beneath our weight. Every few feet, sparks fizzled from loose wiring, the facility's decay becoming more obvious the deeper we went.
"This place is one bad circuit away from frying itself," I muttered.
"Well, at least the self-destruct will put it out of its misery," Anthony deadpanned.
I was too focused on the glowing light ahead—the exit.
Anthony slid forward first, kicking out the grate with a well-placed heel strike. We dropped into a dimly lit corridor—and right in front of us, a reinforced door marked 'Security Control.'
"Found it," I muttered.
"Of course we did," Anthony said. "I never miss."
Then he saw the cipher-locked keypad.
I saw the way his eyes narrowed.
Anthony cracked his knuckles. "Give me ten seconds."
He studied the keypad with the precise gaze of a predator, his Cipher Decryption kicking into high gear.
I watched in silence as he scanned the input system, noticing something I did as well thanks to my Observation skill—how the buttons had slightly more wear on certain numbers.
His fingers flew over the keys in rapid succession.
Anthony grinned. "I lied. Took me seven."
"Not bad," I admitted.
And immediately, I knew we were in the right place.
The Security Control Room was filled with monitors, old terminals, and a single glowing console at the center of the room. The air was stale, thick with burnt electronics and old dust.
"This is it," I said. "Let's shut this thing down."
Anthony was already moving, his fingers flying over the keyboard—only to stop when a security prompt popped up.
[ADMIN CREDENTIALS REQUIRED.]
"Great," I muttered. "It needs a passcode."
"We don't need the code," Anthony corrected. "We need someone who knows it."
His Lip Reading (Lv. 6) kicked in.
Instead of trying to crack the system manually, he pulled up old security footage, scrolling through silent archives of past personnel accessing the terminal.
I watched as he studied the miniscule movements of the guards' lips, his eyes darting across the screen as he reconstructed the passphrase from old footage.
After thirty seconds, he smirked.
He typed in the code—
The alarm abruptly cut off.
Then the intercom crackled.
"Unauthorized override detected. Deploying countermeasures."
A section of the ceiling slid open.
Two automated turrets dropped down.
Anthony moved before they fired.
His Combat Intuition (Lv. 7) activated—his body twisting just in time to dodge the first shots.
I saw him calculate something in a split second before grabbing a fallen security baton.
Then, with a flick of his wrist—
The baton spun midair—smashing into one turret's sensor, sending it sparking wildly.
I took care of the second one. Heavy Lifting (Lv. 8) made it easy to yank a loose cable from the ground—whipping it at the turret, short-circuiting the system.
The turrets went dead.
"Problem solved?" Anthony asked.
Then the hidden door slid open.
A humanoid security android stepped out.
"Eliminating intruders."
Anthony sighed. "Of course there's a robot."
Anthony twisted out of the way, moving so fluidly it was almost unnatural. His Stealth Mastery (Lv. 8) made his movements unpredictable—his body shifting at just the right angles to avoid the android's strikes.
"Little help, boss?" he called.
I was already moving.
I grabbed the nearest panel, using Mechanical Mastery (Lv. 4) to rewire the console. The system glitched, the self-destruct override resetting.
Anthony saw what I was doing—
But so did the android.
Anthony moved faster.
He grabbed a broken pipe off the wall, turning just in time to jam it into the android's exposed joint.
The bot seized, circuits frying.
I finished the override.
The countdown reached 30 seconds.
The android lurched forward, launching a final strike—
Anthony caught the attack and used the bot's momentum against it, slamming it to the ground.
The android stopped moving.
The screen flickered—
The countdown hit zero.
[Self-Destruct Sequence Terminated.]
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
Anthony dusted himself off. "So. We're not dead."
He clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Hell of a first mission, boss."
After everything I had just seen, I only had one thought.
Damn. He's really good at his job.