Rion's eyes locked onto a shaft at the back of the storage room, a narrow opening just big enough for him to squeeze through. His heart raced as he gauged its size, weighing his options quickly. The air was heavy with the scent of metal and oil, mingling with the musty odor of old, forgotten crates. There wasn't much time.
He moved quickly, shoving the crates aside with a grunt, the muscles in his arms straining against the weight of the heavy boxes. The grating covering the shaft was rusty and corroded, its bolts barely holding it in place.
Rion grabbed the edge and yanked it free, the metal screeching in protest. The sound of it clattering to the ground seemed to echo loudly in the tense silence, but he didn't have time to worry about it.
He climbed up, pulling himself into the shaft with a grunt of effort. The metal walls were cold and rough against his skin, but he forced himself to keep moving, dragging himself forward inch by inch. The shaft was barely big enough to accommodate his body, and he could feel the metal scraping against his elbows and knees as he crawled.
For several agonizing minutes, he continued forward, navigating the twists and turns of the ventilation system. Every sound seemed amplified in the confined space, his breathing echoing loudly in his ears. He could hear the distant sounds of the guards shouting orders, their voices muffled by the thick walls of the facility.
He paused at a junction, trying to get his bearings. The shaft branched off in several directions, each one potentially leading to a different part of the facility. He had to make a decision, and fast. The longer he stayed in one place, the greater the chance of being discovered. The darkness was disorienting, so he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to recall the layout of the building from memory.
Rion chose the left branch, calculating that it would take him closer to the roof. He crawled forward, his muscles straining with the effort. The metal beneath him groaned under his weight, but he ignored it, pushing himself onward. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He had to keep moving to stay ahead of the guards. Each twist and turn in the ventilation system seemed to stretch endlessly, the narrow walls closing in around him.
As he reached another junction, he heard a noise that made him freeze. Voices, coming from the shaft below. He strained to listen, his breath catching in his throat. The voices were faint, but he could make out what they were saying.
"Check the vents! He could be using them to get around!" one of the guards shouted, his voice echoing up the shaft.
Rion's blood ran cold. They were onto him. He had to move, and fast. He crawled forward with renewed urgency, his movements frantic as he pushed himself to the limit. He could hear the sounds of the guards below, their footsteps growing louder as they approached the junction. His breathing was ragged, his body aching from the exertion, but he didn't dare slow down.
Suddenly, the shaft gave way beneath him, and he found himself falling. Time seemed to slow as he plummeted, the narrow walls rushing past in a blur. He instinctively activated his [Iron Skin] technique and twisted his body, trying to orient himself for impact.
He landed hard on a metal grate, the impact knocking the wind out of him. The sharp jolt of pain radiated through his side, and he gasped for breath, his vision swimming as he struggled to push himself up. His side burned with pain, but he forced himself to focus, to ignore the agony.
He was in another storage room, this one filled with large metal crates and machinery. The walls were lined with shelves stacked with tools and spare parts, casting long, eerie shadows under the flickering fluorescent lights.
He could feel the cold metal grate beneath him vibrating slightly, a low hum resonating through the floor from the machinery. The air was thick with dust, and he coughed, trying to clear his lungs. His eyes darted around the room, taking in his surroundings.
Luckily for him, the soundproofing of this room was immaculate as the sound of him falling didn't leak out. The walls were lined with sound-absorbing panels, a precautionary measure to keep the noise of the machinery from escaping.
It was a stroke of luck that he had ended up here; any other room might have alerted the guards to his presence. He had to move quickly, though. It wouldn't take long for them to figure out where he had gone.
He approached the door and slightly opened it, peeking out through the small crack. His eyes adjusted to the dim lighting in the hallway beyond. Some distance away on his left, he saw a stairwell that led upwards, most likely to the roof. His heart leapt at the sight, a spark of hope flaring in his chest.
However, he could also hear voices around the area, low and indistinct but unmistakably close. He ducked back in, peering around the small slit. His breathing was shallow, his senses on high alert as he listened for any hint of movement.
Four more guards were at the base of the stairs, their backs to him as they scanned the area above. They were alert, rifles at the ready, their heads on a swivel as they searched for any sign of movement. Rion could see their tension in the tightness of their grips on their weapons and the way their shoulders were set, rigid and ready for action.
Rion weighed his options. He could try to take them out quietly, but there was always a risk of one of them getting a lucky shot with those rapid fire rifles. His [Iron Skin] had deactivated since he had run out of origin energy, and even if it hadn't, he most definitely didn't want to test his bodily defense against that.
He tapped the hidden button, feeling a slight vibration as the Micro-Dart unfolded, and with a precise flick of his wrist, Rion sent it spinning through the air. It clattered to the floor in front of the guards, and the four guards instantly tensed, their eyes snapping to the sound. Rifles trained on the small device, they stared, bewildered.
"What the hell is that?" one of the guards muttered, nudging the person beside him.
"I don't know, but you guys should keep your eyes peeled. Could be anything."
«Ssssss!»
With a soft hiss, a plume of dense smoke erupted from the device, filling the air around the guards. They staggered back, coughing and waving their hands to clear the suddenly thick, choking fog that engulfed them.
Rion didn't waste a second. Amid the confusion, he sprang from his hiding spot, moving like a shadow through the smoke. The guards, caught off guard and struggling to see, never stood a chance.
Rion's arm shot out, the edge of his hand slamming into the man's throat. A choked gasp escaped him as he crumpled, his rifle clattering to the floor. The second guard, hearing the noise, spun around wildly, his weapon raised.
But Rion was already moving. All he accomplished was turning just in time to see Rion's fist flying at his face. The punch connected with a sickening crack, and the guard stumbled back, dazed. Rion didn't give him a chance to recover. He grabbed the man's rifle and swung it like a club, catching the guard under the chin with the butt of the weapon. The guard's head snapped back, and he crumpled to the floor, out cold.
The remaining two guards fumbled with their rifles, the thick smoke swirling around them and blurring their vision. Rion was on them in an instant. With a deft twist, he wrenched the rifle from the third guard's hands and sent it skidding across the floor, then smashed the butt of his own sidearm into the guard's temple with a sickening thud. The guard's eyes rolled back, and he slumped to the ground, out cold.
The fourth guard managed to draw his sidearm, but Rion was faster, his reflexes honed to perfection. He ducked under the barrel of the gun, bringing his elbow up into the guard's chin with a forceful snap. The man's head snapped back, and he staggered, his grip on the rifle loosening. Rion didn't give him a chance to recover; He drove his elbow into the guard's face, shattering his nose with a crunch, then followed up with a knee to the gut, forcing the air from his lungs.
As the guard stumbled back, dazed and gasping for breath, Rion finished him off with a devastating punch to the jaw. The guard dropped like a sack of potatoes, hitting the ground with a heavy thud.
Rion took a moment to catch his breath, listening for any signs that the noise had drawn more attention. The smoke was already starting to dissipate, revealing the unconscious forms of the two guards. There wasn't much time before someone would notice the lingering smoke or the missing guards, but he only needed a few minutes.
He moved swiftly up the stairs, every step light and deliberate, avoiding any creak or noise. The air grew cooler as he ascended.
The close he moved to the top of the stairs, the louder the muffled sounds of another ongoing battle became. Shouts, gunfire, and the roaring of some massive entity filled the air, mingling with the shrill alarms and the crackling of small fires.
His pulse quickened with each step, a mixture of fear of the unknown and relief at being close to freedom propelling him forward.
A short while later, he reached the top and paused, noticing a other hatch leading to the roof. He glanced back down the stairwell, ensuring no one was following him and then pressed his ear against the cold metal surface.
The noise from outside was clearer now, the sharp cracks of gunfire and the heavy thuds of bodies hitting the ground reverberating through the metal. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever awaited him on the other side.
He pushed the hatch open and climbed up onto the roof and was greeted by the night sky stretched out above, stars hidden behind a blanket of clouds. The air was heavy with the scent of rain, thick and foreboding. It was the kind of night that felt alive, charged with the promise of a storm. The wind whipped around him, tugging at his clothes and sending a shiver down his spine.
The roof was a flat expanse, dotted with various vents and mechanical units. In the distance, he could see the faint outline of a vast expanse of trees, their dark silhouettes swaying slightly in the breeze under the dim light of the moon, offering a sliver of hope and potential cover for his escape.
But that was not all. His eyes caught flickers of light from below. Flashes of intense brightness reflected off the surrounding buildings, illuminating the darkened courtyard in sporadic bursts. The muffled sounds he had been hearing inside were now unmistakably clear—clashes of metal against metal, the rapid fire of automatic weapons, and the shouts of combatants engaged in fierce battle.
He inched closer to the edge, his heartbeat hammering in his chest as he peered over. The scene below was one of utter pandemonium. Agents and guards alike moved in tight formations, their movements precise and disciplined despite the chaos around them. They fired in controlled bursts, their weapons spitting out streams of bullets that cut through the night like deadly whispers.
His eyes widened in shock at the scene of utter chaos he was witnessing, his mind struggling to process it well. The scale of the battle, the ferocity of the combatants—it was unlike anything he had ever seen before. He had expected resistance, had prepared for a fight, but this thing they were battling against… it was something else entirely.
"What the hell is that?"