Charles paused at the threshold.

He looked back.

The woman was still there.

Holding her child close, her body shaking, eyes wide and unfocused from everything she had just seen.

He gestured.

"Inside. Hurry"

She didn’t move at first.

Then—

She looked at the officer beside her.

Then back at Charles.

And ran.

Her steps were uneven, but she made it, clutching the child tightly as she crossed the distance and entered the elevator cautiously.

As she passed him, her voice broke.

"...Thank you..."

Charles didn’t respond.

He stepped in after her.

Pressed the button.

The doors began to close—

SSHHK—~

Don stood at the front, eyes forward, jaw set.

Time was gone.

Whatever was coming—

They were about to meet it head-on.

—

The elevator rose.

Smooth.

Controlled.

Too controlled for what was happening outside.

For a few seconds—

No one spoke.

But the quiet didn’t hold.

It seeped in through the walls anyway.

Distant—

Faint—

But there.

A scream—

Far off.

Another—

Closer.

Metal bending somewhere above—

KRRRNN—~

Gunfire echoed through the structure in broken bursts—

THUD—THUD—THUD—~

An explosion followed, muffled but heavy enough to make the walls hum—

BOOM—~

The woman flinched at that one.

Her arms tightened around the child instinctively, rocking him slightly as her eyes squeezed shut for a second before opening again, unfocused. The bandage around the child’s torso had darkened further, blood slowly seeping through despite the pressure she applied.

Inside the elevator itself—

Luxury remained untouched.

Polished walls.

Soft lighting.

A faint hum from the system as it ascended.

It felt wrong.

Don stood near the front, gaze forward, but his focus wasn’t on the doors.

Not really.

His mind ran ahead.

Calculating.

Adjusting.

—

In his ear—

Elle’s voice.

Low.

Controlled.

"Some minions will be on standby, Don... in case you need emergency assistance or extraction. Gary had units running operations across the city when this happened, but—"

Winter cut in.

Precise as always.

"That window is small. Satellite imagery shows incoming aerial units. Multiple heavy-class helicopters—designation: *Aegis-9 Strikers*—escorted by *Vanguard-7 interceptors*. They are accompanied by aerial superhuman escorts... high-speed, close-protection types."

A brief pause.

"They are UPSDF."

Don didn’t respond.

But the thought formed anyway.

’Help... or problem.’

Too many variables.

Too little control.

’Should we abort?’

His jaw tightened slightly.

’No...’

The system prompt lingered in the back of his mind.

Survive the horde.

Not defeat it.

Just survive.

—

Across from him—

Charles stood still.

But not at ease.

His posture remained upright, composed, but there was a faint strain in the set of his shoulders, in the slight tightening of his jaw as he listened to the comms channel feeding directly into his ear.

Static bled through first—

KSSSH—~

Then voices.

Layered.

Overlapping.

"—we’re out of time! Everyone move now! Set up the turrets and let’s go, hurry up and let’s go—!"

Mr. Olynk.

Authoritative, concerned-

Commanding.

But as he was doing this, another voice cut in—

"Sir, this is Watcher—those things are here!? They’re rushing into the tower opposite the—oh fuck—!?"

A sudden distortion interupted them—

Static surged—

KRRRSH—!

"Something just flew by—fuck—sir—...oh no—"

The line broke into noise.

Then nothing.

Charles’ expression tightened just a fraction.

—

The woman’s voice broke through the space.

Soft.

Shaking.

"...thank you..."

She rocked her child again as she spoke, her voice barely holding together. The boy didn’t respond, his head resting weakly against her shoulder, his breathing shallow.

Don glanced at her.

Charles did too.

For a moment—

Their eyes met.

Then shifted away.

No words came.

There wasn’t anything to say.

—

Then, all of a sudden.... the elevator shook.

Violently.

THUNK—!

The motion threw the woman slightly off balance, her shoulder hitting the wall as she held onto the child tighter. The lights flickered—

FZZT—!

Once.

Twice.

Then stabilized.

The elevator—

Stopped.

Completely.

The hum of motion died instantly.

But the system—

Remained active.

Too quiet.

—

Charles turned immediately.

Don already had.

His gaze lifted.

Past the doors.

Past the ceiling.

His vision shifted.

Beastshift layered over the augmented feed, both systems working together as he scanned upward through the structure to find the problem.

At first—

Nothing.

Then—

There.

A section of the upper cable assembly—

Damaged. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Badly.

Frayed lines.

Alot of structural compromise.

And beside it—

A hole.

Through the shaft.

Through the doors above.

Not clean but rough and jagged.

Not mechanical either.

Forced.

His vision sharpened.

A heat siganture registered instantly.

High.

Localized.

He didn’t need the systems of the augmented reality to tell him what it was.

He knew.

A pincer, and it could only come from one thing.

His eyes widened.

He turned to Charles immediately.

"That male infected is up there!" His voice carried urgency now, but he still spoke slow. "We need to get out of here—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

His head tilted slightly upward again.

Listening.

There—

A sound.

Metal grinding—

Slow.

SCRRRAAAPE—~

The cables shifted again—

More strain.

More damage.

CRK—!

It was working its way down.

Carving through.

Don didn’t look back down this time.

"We need to get out of here. Fast. It’s compromised."

—

Charles frowned.

But his voice stayed even.

"Don’t worry. The elevator has an independent motor system in case direct power is cut off."

As he spoke, he stepped forward and pressed a lower floor command.

The panel responded instantly.

The system kicked back in—

VMM—~

A softer hum than before.

But active.

The elevator jerked slightly—

Then began to move again.

Downward this time.

—

Don didn’t relax.

Didn’t shift his gaze.

He kept looking up.

Tracking.

Waiting.

Because something still felt wrong.

Something didn’t line up.

Even as the elevator descended, even as the faint hum returned beneath his feet—

VMM—~

His focus stayed upward, tracking every scrape, every shift in the metal above. His hearing stretched, isolating the grinding noise from the rest of the chaos outside.

SCRRRAAPE—~

Closer.

The elevator slowed—

Then stopped.

A soft mechanical click followed.

The doors in front of them began to part—

SSHHK—~

Just a sliver.

Light from the floor beyond slipped through the gap.

Don’s head dipped slightly, eyes shifting forward as if to confirm their exit—

But something else entered his view.

Through that narrow opening—

Movement.

His eyes widened instantly.

"Get down—!"

The words barely left his mouth.

The doors slid open wider—

And then—

VOOOOSH—!!

It hit.

The woman infected’s hair slammed into the elevator doors with violent force, the impact buckling the metal inward as strands drove through the gap like spears—

CRRSH—!

The doors warped under the pressure, edges bending inward as several strands punched through, forcing their way into the confined space with terrifying speed.

Some struck the interior walls—

THK—! THK—!

Others—

Came straight for him.

Don didn’t step back.

Didn’t flinch.

His eyes lit faintly at the edges—

Blue.

The strands stopped.

Mid-air.

Inches from his face.

From his chest.

Dozens of them—

Frozen.

Quivering under the force holding them in place.

The pressure behind them didn’t disappear. It pushed. Pressed. Tried to break through—

But held.

Barely.

Behind him—

The woman screamed.

She dropped low instinctively, curling over her child, arms tightening around him as her body shook uncontrollably.

Charles reacted—

His wings shifted forward, instinctively moving to shield—

But Don’s voice cut through again.

"Get the woman and get out of here! Quick!"

No hesitation.

Charles moved.

He stepped forward and grabbed the woman by the arm, pulling her up with force as he turned toward the opening, ignoring the strands that had pierced through around them.

Above—

The scraping continued.

Louder now.

Metal bending.

CRRRAAAK—!

The thing above them was getting closer.

They were out of time.

Charles didn’t ask.

Didn’t look back.

He pulled.

The woman stumbled forward, barely able to keep her footing as he dragged her toward the exit—

Her grip—

Slipped.

The child fell.

A small, fragile weight dropping from her arms—

THUD—!

Her voice broke instantly.

"Wait—!"

But Charles didn’t stop.

Didn’t even turn.

His focus remained forward.

Move.

Get out.

That was all that mattered.