The sound of boots thundered through the quiet manor, dozens of feet pounding toward the kitchen.
So many people were rushing that it almost drowned out the blaring alarms still screaming in the halls.
When they reached the kitchen doors, the alarms finally cut off, replaced by a flashing message on the nearest wall panel and across every staff terminal:
[NOTICE: ASSAILANT SUBDUED.]
[CAUTION: UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE DETECTED. HAZMAT SUITS REQUIRED.]
The calm, clinical prompts blinked in quiet contrast to the chaos just moments ago.
There was a moment of tense silence as the guards and staff hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances.
And then someone stepped forward.
Butler Gary.
His room was closest to the kitchen, and of course, he was the first to arrive.
With a practiced motion, he pulled a hazmat suit from his space button—one of many precautions he'd started taking after that one unforgettable dungeon incident.
The kitchen doors slid open.
