The mag-lev cart slammed to a stop. The doors grated open on Sub-Level Depot 12. The air hit first—rust and wet concrete, thick enough to taste.

  I stumbled out. The team followed. Eight shadows in the gloom plus me made nine.

  [SYSTEM]

  TIME TO SECTOR 7 TEST: 70 HOURS, 48 MINUTES

  FUGUE METER: 45%

  [/SYSTEM]

  "Tools. Medical supplies. Power cells." My voice echoed off bare concrete. "Five minutes. Then we move."

  They scattered. I forced a rusted locker open. Empty.

  A scream tore through the depot. Lara.

  I ran. Boots slapping wet floor. Around a stack of containers. I stopped cold.

  Lara was pinned against a shipping container. A Patriot Guard Lieutenant had his armored forearm across her throat. His other hand pressed a heavy pistol to her temple. The armor was matte black, scarred from use. A resonance dampener glowed faintly on his chest plate.

  "Leo Vane." His voice was flat, professional. "By the authority of the Temporal Stability Act, you are detained. Order your cell to stand down."

  The team gathered behind me. Pipes. Wrenches. Useless.

  "Let her go. The warrant's for me."

  "The warrant designates the entire cell as an anomalous contagion risk. You will all be processed."

  [SYSTEM ANALYSIS]

  TARGET: LIEUTENANT KROSS, PATRIOT GUARD 3RD INTERDICTION

  CLASS: [FIELD INTERDICTOR]

  LEVEL: 3 (ESTIMATED)

  THREAT: MEDIUM

  NOTE: ARMOR EQUIPPED WITH RESONANCE DAMPENER. ECHO SIGHT EFFICIENCY REDUCED BY 40%.

  [/SYSTEM]

  A dampener. Kael's stolen tech. A cage built to contain me.

  Kross's finger tightened on the trigger. The metal creaked. "Comply."

  My Echo Sight spiked. Involuntary. Panic response. The world fractured into layers.

  I saw the pistol. Saw through its housing to the magnetic chamber inside. A hairline stress fracture ran along the seam. A manufacturing flaw. One drop during assembly, frozen in time, waiting to break.

  The dual vision was a hot knife behind my eyes. Pain lanced through my skull.

  [SYSTEM]

  WARNING: ECHO SIGHT STRAIN

  FUGUE METER: 45% → 55% → 60%

  [/SYSTEM]

  I had a wrench. I threw it.

  Not at Kross. At a frayed power conduit on the ceiling above him.

  The wrench struck. Sparks showered down. Kross flinched. His aim shifted half a degree.

  Lara moved. Elbow to his side. Twist. Broke free.

  Kross's pistol tracked her. I was already moving.

  I didn't strike him. I lunged for the gun. My fingers found the exact point—the flaw my Sight had shown me. I wrenched sideways.

  A sharp crack echoed inside the weapon. A sick, electronic whine.

  Kross pulled the trigger.

  The gun didn't fire. It burst.

  Concussive thump. Released energy threw us apart. I hit the ground hard. Breath knocked out. Ears ringing.

  Kross was on one knee. His right hand was a bloody, smoking ruin. His professional mask cracked into raw disbelief.

  [SYSTEM]

  COMBAT RESOLVED: IMPROVISED SYSTEM EXPLOITATION

  EXPERIENCE GAINED: 80 XP

  TOTAL XP: 130/200

  FUGUE METER: 68%

  DEBUFF APPLIED: [SYNAPTIC FEEDBACK]

  EFFECT: AUDITORY PROCESSING DISRUPTION. HIGH-FREQUENCY TINNITUS. DURATION: 2-6 HOURS.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  [/SYSTEM]

  A piercing metallic whine lodged deep in my left ear. Sound from that side was muffled, distorted, like hearing through water. Marcus shouted something. The words came from behind my right shoulder.

  I pushed up. Swayed. The world listed slightly.

  Kross stood, cradling his ruined hand. The fury was gone. Replaced by cold assessment. He saw my disorientation. Noted my unsteady stance.

  "Anomaly confirmed. Containment protocol advised." His voice was calm again. He tapped his comms unit. "Command, Interdictor Kross. Code 37 at Depot 12. Requesting containment team."

  He wasn't calling Kael. He was filing a report. We were a bureaucratic problem now, escalated to the appropriate department.

  "Move. Now." My voice came out wrong, too loud in my right ear, absent in my left.

  We ran. Ragged sprint away from the depot core.

  Kross didn't pursue. He stood sentinel, watching us flee.

  The safehouse was a maintenance apartment buried in old blueprints. Hidden. Safe. We'd stashed supplies there for months.

  We piled through the door. Gasping.

  The room was wrong. Sterile. Not ransacked—professionally cleared. Furniture overturned. Panels removed from walls. Every drawer open and empty. Our cache was gone.

  On the small bare table at the center sat a single sheet of standard Patriot Guard paper. Weighed down by a spent energy cell.

  Marcus picked it up. His face went gray. He read aloud, words dropping into dead silence.

  "Observation: Subject returned to previously identified safehouse. Predictable."

  No signature. No name. No personal message. Just precise block letters. A lab report on our behavior.

  Eli turned to me. His eyes were flat. Accusing. "You said this place was unknown."

  The high-pitched whine in my ear spiked. I couldn't find words. The note didn't threaten. It dissected. It said they knew our patterns before we did.

  Outside, a new sound cut through the city's hum. Not generic sirens. The distinct dual tones of Patriot Guard rapid response vehicles. Multiple engines. Converging.

  Kross's containment team. The System's immune response.

  [SYSTEM ALERT]

  THREAT ESCALATION DETECTED

  PATRIOT GUARD MOBILIZATION: SECTOR-WIDE

  ESTIMATED RESPONSE FORCE: 12-18 COMBATANTS

  TIME TO ENCIRCLEMENT: 3 MINUTES

  [/SYSTEM]

  The tones grew louder. Closer. On our street.

  Marcus looked at me. No panic. Just a soldier waiting for orders. "Options?"

  "None here." I pointed to the fire escape. "Roof access. Across buildings. They'll have ground covered. They won't expect vertical."

  Eli shook his head. "With your hearing like that?"

  "Don't have a choice."

  Lara was already at the window. "Fire escape is clear. For now."

  We moved. Single file up the rusted ladder. My left ear screamed. Balance off. Marcus steadied me once.

  Roof. Cold wind. City spread below.

  [SYSTEM UPDATE]

  TIME TO SECTOR 7 TEST: 70 HOURS, 12 MINUTES

  FUGUE METER: 68% (STABLE)

  DEBUFF: [SYNAPTIC FEEDBACK] - 4 HOURS REMAINING

  [/SYSTEM]

  Below, Patriot Guard vehicles screeched to a halt. Six of them. Doors opened. Armored figures deployed.

  Kross stepped out. His bandaged hand was wrapped in field dressing. He looked up. Saw us on the roof.

  He didn't shout. He pointed.

  They'd have rooftop units converging. Three minutes max.

  "Next building. Ten foot gap." I pointed.

  Jax paled. Quiet man, mid-forties, always checking a cracked photo of his daughter in his pocket. "I can't make that."

  "You have to." I was already backing up for a running start.

  Marcus went first. Clean jump. Landed, rolled, came up ready.

  Lara followed. Made it.

  Eli hesitated. Looked at the gap. Looked at me.

  "Go."

  He jumped. Cleared it by inches.

  My turn. Left ear screamed. Balance wavered. I ran anyway.

  Jumped.

  Landing was impact. Stumbled. Marcus caught me.

  Jax followed. His jump was short.

  He fell. Six stories down.

  There was no scream. Just the impact. Wet and final.

  Below, the Patriot Guard secured the body. Kross looked up again. Made a note on his datapad.

  Two buildings ahead, searchlights snapped on. We were trapped between forces.

  "Service elevator shaft." My voice was steady. Hollow. "Building center. Leads to underground parking."

  Anya nodded. "I know it. Emergency route."

  We moved. Across one more roof. Through a maintenance door.

  Dark stairwell down. Flashlights only.

  Basement level. Parking garage. Abandoned vehicles coated in dust.

  We found the service elevator. Prized the doors open. Shaft was empty. A ladder led down into deeper dark.

  "Where now?" Lara asked.

  "Underground market. Six blocks east. Traders have their own security. Guard hesitates to raid there. Temporary cover."

  Marcus frowned. "They'll expect that."

  "Probably." I started down the ladder. Rust flaked under my grip. The numb fingers on my right hand slipped once. I held tighter with my left. "But it's the only option we have."

  Eli looked back up the shaft. "Jax."

  "He's dead." I didn't stop climbing. "More will be. We're targets now. The System flags me every time I use power. Jax died because I used Echo Sight. Because Kross was sent. Because Kael knows how I think."

  Silence. Just the echo of boots on metal rungs.

  "Then we stop using power," Eli said.

  "I can't. I need it to stop the test. I need it to survive. This is the cost." I reached the bottom, stepped off the ladder onto concrete. Looked up at the silhouettes above. "If you want out? At the next trader post, take supplies. Go. I won't stop you."

  No one moved.

  Then Marcus climbed down. Boots hit concrete. He stood beside me, facing the dark tunnel ahead. Didn't look back.

  Lara followed. Then Anya. Then the others.

  Eli came last. He landed, looked at me, said nothing.

  We moved into the dark. Behind us, the shaft echoed with distant footsteps. The Guard was already searching.

  The metallic whine in my left ear faded to a constant, low hum. It would be with me for hours. Maybe longer.

  Ahead, the tunnel forked. I chose left without knowing why. Just moved.

  Marcus caught my arm. "You sure?"

  "No." I pulled free. Kept walking.

  They followed anyway.