Nate's boots pounded against the rain-slick tiles as he vaulted over the cathedral's lower rooftop, Eira close behind.
Gunshots shattered the night.
Bullets sparked against stone.
The Syndicate wasn't here to take prisoners.
> "Left!" Eira shouted, yanking Nate down a narrow maintenance stairwell.
They descended fast, the whole world a blur of broken masonry and flashing gunfire.
At the bottom, a rusted door hung loose on its hinges.
Nate slammed it open and they spilled into a twisted alley, garbage and broken glass crunching underfoot.
> "Where are we going?" Nate hissed.
> "Safehouse," Eira panted. "Three blocks. If we make it."
A black SUV screeched around the corner behind them.
More Syndicate agents.
Masked. Ruthless.
Hunters.
---
They ran.
Harder than either of them had ever run.
Every turn seemed blocked.
Every alley lit by the glare of Syndicate flashlights.
> "There!" Eira pointed — a crumbling fire escape leading up a brick building.
Without thinking, Nate boosted her up first, then scrambled after her.
Bullets whizzed past, punching holes in the metal stairs.
Nate grabbed Eira's hand and hauled her up onto the roof.
But there — waiting for them — stood two masked agents.
SMGs raised.
---
Time slowed.
Nate dove left.
Eira rolled right.
The agents opened fire.
Sparks exploded as bullets struck the rooftop.
Nate drew his pistol and squeezed off two clean shots — both agents went down hard.
No time to celebrate.
More Syndicate thugs clambered up from the other side.
---
> "This way!" Eira cried, spotting a laundry line stretched between buildings.
She leapt first, grabbing the line and swinging across the yawning gap.
Nate hesitated for a split second — then sprinted forward and launched himself into the void.
The line snapped.
Nate crashed hard onto the opposite rooftop, rolling and gasping for breath.
Pain lanced through his ribs, but he forced himself up.
> "Move!" Eira screamed, dragging him to his feet.
---
In the distance, Nate could see the edge of the old quarter — abandoned streets, where Syndicate surveillance didn't reach.
Safety.
If they could get there.
Behind them, the Syndicate agents regrouped.
> "They're calling reinforcements," Eira warned, glancing at her cracked comms unit. "We've got two minutes before they surround us."
> "Then we make them regret chasing us," Nate growled.
He snatched a flashbang from one of the fallen agents' belts.
Pulled the pin.
> "Cover your eyes."
He tossed it behind them and turned.
The flashbang detonated — a blinding burst of light and sound.
Screams echoed as the agents reeled.
Nate and Eira didn't wait.
They ran.
---
Finally, gasping and bloody, they slipped into the dark maze of the abandoned district.
The Syndicate's headlights faded behind them.
For now, they were alive.
But the war was far from over.
---