The air in the stairwell was cold and sterile, smelling of dust and stale fear. We were a strange, mismatched unit of warriors and scholars, huddled together in the shadows, our breaths held in a collective, tense silence. Above us, in the recreational area, were our enemies. Six professional soldiers, holding eight civilians hostage. The odds were not in our favor.
But we had a weapon they didn't. We had Anna.
Her voice, a calm, disembodied whisper from a world away, came through our comms. "After the next ten seconds, the lights go off."
Nari, who had already found a high maintenance vent, climbed into position, her M24 sniper rifle a sleek, deadly shadow in the dim light. She looked down at me, a flicker of a smile in her grey eyes. "Don't worry," she whispered into her own comm, her voice a low, confident purr. "This will be easy."
I stood guard at the bottom of the stairs, my own assault rifle held at the ready. Behind me, Bella, Allison, and Sandra stood in a tight, nervous group, their new Desert Eagles held with a grim, unfamiliar determination.
Anna's voice came again, the final, chilling countdown. "Are you ready? Should I start the countdown?"
"Ready," Nari replied, her voice as cold and steady as a surgeon's scalpel.
"Ten... nine... eight..." The countdown was a slow, deliberate drumbeat, each number a step closer to the storm. "Three... two... one... Start. I will guide you."
The world plunged into absolute, disorienting blackness. The emergency lights in the stairwell flickered and died. A moment of profound silence, and then, from the recreational area above, a wave of panicked, confused shouts.
"What's going on?!"
"Why a blackout?!"
In the chaos, Nari's voice, a calm, lethal whisper in my ear, cut through the noise. "One down. Right-most corner." A soft phht echoed from the vent above, followed by the heavy, satisfying thud of a body hitting the floor. "Two down."
She continued her silent, deadly work, a ghost in the darkness. Each soft shot was a punctuation mark in the symphony of panic. The militants, so confident just moments before, were now just scared men stumbling in the dark, being picked off one by one by an unseen phantom. Anna was her eyes, her digital ghost guiding each shot with flawless precision.
It was over in less than a minute. "Lights," I said into my comm. The recreational area flooded with light, revealing a scene of frozen chaos. The militants were down, neutralized with a terrifying efficiency. The hostages were huddled in a corner, their faces a mixture of terror and dawning, disbelieving hope.
"Bella, Allison, block the entrance," I commanded as we entered the room, securing the area. "No one in, no one out."
I looked at Nari, who had dropped silently from the vent, her sniper rifle already slung over her back. "Nice," I said, a wave of genuine admiration in my voice. "Very precise."
She just gave me a small, almost imperceptible shrug. "I learned from my father."
"Anna, next?" I asked into the comm.
"Now, take the lift," her voice came back, crisp and efficient. "It goes directly to the kitchen."
The moment the hostages saw us, saw the heavily armed, professional-looking group who had just saved them, they erupted. A wave of relieved sobs and desperate pleas washed over us.
"Please, save us! We don't want to die!"
I looked at them, at their terrified, hopeful faces, and then I looked back at my own team. At Allison and Sandra, who were already moving to untie them. At Bella, her expression a mask of grim calculation. At Nari, her eyes cold and utterly pragmatic. And at the twins, who were still weak, still vulnerable.
My internal thought: Saving them. Eight panicked, untrained civilians. In the middle of a hostile takeover by a black-ops team. This isn't a rescue. This is a suicide mission. I can't.
"Allison, Sandra, stop," I said, my voice quiet but absolute. "Don't do this. We're leaving."
Allison looked at me, her own eyes wide with horrified disbelief. "But… but they'll be killed."
"We can't afford to handle any more people," I said, my own voice hardening, the king replacing the man. "This is not our fight. Our fight is to survive. Let's leave."
Nari, ever my ruthless empress, backed me up instantly. "Adam is right. If we help them, we will get killed ourselves. It's a simple calculation. We move on."
Bella, her face a mask of conflict, finally spoke, her voice low and full of a grim, reluctant understanding. "He's right, Allie. We can't save them. We can only save our own. That's the choice."
The hostages, hearing our words, began to beg, their pleas a chorus of raw, desperate fear. Allison and Sandra looked devastated, a profound, soul-deep guilt in their eyes. Bella was in a state of dilemma, her heart warring with her pragmatic mind. And the twins, having just been saved themselves, were in no position to question our brutal logic.
As we moved toward the emergency lift, Nari paused at the entrance to the recreational area. She placed a small, discreet charge on the doorframe. Then, she looked at the terrified hostages. "If you want to be safe," she said, her voice devoid of all emotion, "I suggest you move as far away from this entrance as possible."
We all piled into the service lift. But before the doors closed, I turned. I saw a pair, a young woman my age with jet-black hair and a man in his late thirties who had to be her brother. They were holding each other, a silent, unbreakable unit in the middle of the chaos. I saw something in their eyes. Not just fear. Defiance.
I took one of the combat knives from a fallen guard and slid it across the polished floor. It spun, coming to a stop just a few feet from them.
"No one can help someone who is not willing to help themselves," I said, my voice a low, final declaration. "Use the guns and weapons of these bastards. Survive. If you have the guts."
The lift doors slid shut, sealing us in. The last thing I saw was the young man's eyes, wide with a new, dawning, and incredibly dangerous idea.
Inside the lift, the silence was heavy. Allison was mumbling, her voice a broken whisper. "They'll die..." Bella was at her side, her arm wrapped around her shoulders, a silent, comforting presence. Hye-jin, her own face pale, looked at me and Nari. "We will not judge you," she said, her sister nodding in agreement. "What you did… it was logical."
"This is real life," I said, my own voice hard. "Not some film." Sandra just looked at me, her expression one of distressed, silent understanding.
We descended, the lift carrying us deeper into the heart of the enemy's territory. When the doors opened, we were in the vast, sterile expanse of the hotel's main kitchen.
"Five men in the kitchen," Anna's voice crackled in our ears.
Nari looked at me, a wicked, predatory glint in her grey eyes. She winked. "I'll smoke them out," she whispered. "You kill them."
I just nodded, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across my own face. "The rest of you," Nari added, her voice a low command, "stay in the lift. And save yourselves."
The game was on. And it was our turn to hunt.