Kevin led the small group through the abandoned transit tunnels, moving silently. Every sound—the clink of a boot on metal, the echo of a whispered instruction—felt amplified, as if the city itself was listening. Shalom leaned against him for support, still weak from her shoulder wound, but alert enough to notice the smallest details.
"Are you sure this route still works?" Mara whispered, crouching as she scanned the dimly lit tunnel.
Kevin nodded without looking back. "It's the only path Victor won't expect. These tunnels were sealed decades ago. Official maps say they're dead."
Elena, walking just behind them, adjusted her digital scanner. "Dead or not, there's surveillance. And if Victor anticipated this, he'll have backup. The closer we get to headquarters, the thicker it'll be."
Shalom swallowed hard. She remembered every story she had ever heard about the Obsidian Circle headquarters—tall, sleek, fortified, impossible to breach. Nothing about it felt normal or human. And yet, Kevin's eyes held the same determination she had come to trust over the past weeks.
"I trust you," she whispered, voice barely audible. "But I'm not sure I trust the tunnels."
Kevin glanced at her, half-smiling. "They've kept us alive so far. Trust me a little more."
The first obstacle came sooner than expected.
A collapsed section of tunnel blocked their path. Broken concrete and exposed steel made climbing impossible. Kevin examined the debris quickly. "We'll need to go through the old maintenance shafts," he said. "It's tight, dangerous, but it's our only option."
Mara groaned. "Tight tunnels are a death trap. You know that, right?"
Kevin ignored her. "Do you want to die above ground?"
No one argued after that.
Shalom followed Kevin as he slipped into the narrow maintenance shaft. The walls scraped against her arms, and she felt the wound in her shoulder twinge painfully, but she forced herself to keep moving. Every sound above—the hum of distant machinery, the faint rattle of ventilation systems—made her pulse quicken.
Halfway through, she stopped. Kevin noticed immediately.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I—I can't feel my left leg," she admitted. Panic creeping into her voice.
Kevin's hand shot out, steadying her. "You can. You're just scared."
She shook her head. "It's not that. I think I twisted it when we fell last night. I can walk, but it hurts too much."
Kevin's jaw tightened. "We don't have time for this. You're walking."
Shalom clenched her teeth, moving forward despite the pain. Elena and Mara followed behind, helping her through the narrow space.
By the time they emerged from the shaft, the sun had barely risen above the city skyline. The tunnels spat them out near the outskirts of Obsidian territory—a place heavily guarded, patrolled, and monitored.
Kevin crouched behind a low wall, surveying the area. Shalom leaned next to him, exhausted but alert.
"There are at least three checkpoints," Kevin whispered. "Two snipers, and the main gate. They're expecting someone to try infiltration, but not like this. They think we're dead."
Shalom's eyes narrowed. "We have no reinforcements. No escape plan. If we're spotted…"
"Then we improvise," Kevin replied. His voice was calm, but every fiber in his body screamed that he knew how fragile their plan was.
As night fell, they moved again, this time on the perimeter of the main compound. Kevin had memorized the patrol rotations from old schematics he had once seen during training. The Circle assumed that everyone who survived the purge had long been eliminated or had vanished. That was their advantage.
Shalom stayed close to him, each step painful, each movement calculated. The compound loomed ahead—tall, cold, and lifeless. Its windows reflected moonlight like empty eyes.
Kevin tapped Elena's shoulder. "You're up."
Elena nodded, moving ahead with the portable hacking device. Within minutes, she had bypassed two outer gates, leaving them a narrow window to slip through the final security door.
As they entered the courtyard, the tension became suffocating. Every shadow, every flicker of light could be a sniper. Every sound could be the Circle coming to kill them.
Shalom's breath was shallow. She kept telling herself it was just another mission, but deep down, she knew this was more than a mission. This was survival.
Inside the building, the first challenge appeared—security cameras.
Kevin knelt behind a pillar, scanning the layout. "We split," he whispered. "Mara takes the east wing. Elena, west. Shalom and I go straight to the data core. If we trigger any alarms, follow your exit protocols."
Shalom hesitated. "Straight to the data core? Are you insane?"
Kevin's expression was grave. "Insane keeps us alive."
She followed him anyway, her hand brushing against his as they moved through the hallway. It was a brief contact, but enough to remind them both why they were risking everything.
Halfway to the data core, Shalom froze. A familiar sound—the soft, mechanical hum of a voice analyzer—echoed down the corridor.
Kevin's hand went to her shoulder. "What is it?"
Shalom swallowed. "It's them. My old team. The ones I failed to eliminate during the Serpent Protocol."
Kevin's heart sank. He had heard stories, but seeing it now made the danger real.
"They'll recognize me," she whispered. "And if they do… they'll kill you too."
Kevin placed a finger on her lips. "Then we make sure they don't."
Together, they crept forward, shadows among shadows. The corridor ended at a set of reinforced doors—the data core. Kevin whispered instructions, and Shalom began to hack the lock while he kept watch.
The door clicked open just as footsteps approached from the end of the hall. Shalom froze. Kevin pulled her back into the shadow of the wall.
Three figures emerged. Black uniforms, silent movements, guns held low but ready. They were the team Shalom had once known.
Shalom swallowed hard, whispering Kevin's name.
"They… they're my old handlers," she said quietly. "They were supposed to… they were supposed to make me disappear."
Kevin's jaw tightened. "Then we disappear together."
Shalom looked at him. "They won't let us."
Kevin shook his head. "We make them."
Gunfire erupted—quick, precise. Kevin and Shalom moved as one, taking down two operatives silently before the third could even react. Shalom's skill surprised even Kevin; years of training had not been erased by her injuries.
They collapsed against the wall, panting, adrenaline mixing with pain.
"We have to move," Kevin whispered. "The core."
Shalom nodded, her face pale but determined. "Let's finish this."
The data core door loomed ahead. Kevin inserted the override chip Elena had prepared. The screen blinked. Files began to unlock—encrypted logs, operative files, mission data.
Shalom scanned the files quickly, her fingers trembling. Names she had once known flashed across the screen—friends, enemies, people she had killed and been ordered to kill.
Kevin watched her face. "It's not too late," he said quietly. "We get what we need and get out."
She shook her head. "No. We can't leave. Not until Victor sees this."
Kevin hesitated. "You mean—expose everything?"
She nodded. "Every operation. Every cover-up. Every secret he thinks is buried. Let him see it all. Let him know we're not scared."
Kevin's lips tightened. He knew it was suicide, but he also knew Shalom was right.
Together, they began transferring the files to a secure drive, moving slowly, methodically, aware that each second could be their last.
Outside, Victor Kane watched on a monitor he had secretly left running.
"They've made it in," he said softly, almost to himself. "Interesting choice."
He tapped a key. "Prepare Phase Four."
Kevin and Shalom didn't know it yet, but Phase Four would be the Circle's most personal strike—testing their loyalty, their limits, and their love.
And it was coming fast.