WWHHHOOOOOPP!
WWHHHOOOOOPP!
A blaring, facility-wide alarm screamed from every speaker, a sound of pure, unadulterated panic that was a dozen times louder than any drill.
The main screen in the observation booth, which had been showing Michael's fluctuating vital signs, was now a solid, blood-red wall of text.
[WARNING: RED-CLASS GATE MANIFESTATION DETECTED.]
[LOCATION: CENTRAL PARK // THE GREAT LAWN.]
The easy, awkward, almost-human atmosphere of the last few minutes shattered into a million pieces.
Jinx swore, a single, sharp curse.
Jax's jaw, which had been hanging open in awe of the ghost puppy, snapped shut.
"Oh," he said, his voice suddenly very small. "That's not good."
Chloe's professional mask, which had been cracked and flustered just moments before, slammed back into place with the force of a reinforced steel door.
The flustered, proud analyst was gone.
In her place stood the commander.
