The world became a violent, screaming cacophony of shattering glass and twisted metal. The town car was shunted sideways with terrifying force, scraping along the divider before being rammed again, pushed down a service ramp and into the desolate, concrete expanse of an industrial underpass. The engine died with a final, pathetic hiss. Silence descended, broken only by the frantic beeping of the car's emergency systems.
"Kaelen! Kaelen, what was that?! Talk to me!" Sera's voice was a terrified, tinny scream in her ear.
Kaelen groaned, her head pounding. The driver was slumped over the wheel, motionless. Red lights flashed across the ruined interior. Through the spiderweb cracks in the window, she saw the doors of the cargo truck swing open. Three large men, their faces grim, began to advance. Amateurs. Hired muscle, not assassins. Their movements were clumsy, fueled by overconfidence. Alban's doing. Pathetic and predictable.
[SYSTEM WARNING: Unscheduled hostile encounter detected. Threat Level: Moderate. Survival probability: 68%.]
"Sera, listen to me," Kaelen said, her voice shockingly calm and level. "I'm alright. Do not call anyone. Do not make a sound. I'm handling this."
One of the thugs wrenched her door open, reaching in to grab her. Kaelen moved. With brutal efficiency, she kicked the bottom of the door, slamming it shut on the man's arm with a sickening crack of bone. He screamed. Before the other two could react, she was out the other side. One lunged, and she used his momentum against him, grabbing his arm and driving her elbow into his solar plexus. He crumpled, gasping for air.
The third man, seeing his friends dispatched so easily, hesitated. That was all the time Kaelen needed. She grabbed a heavy, discarded tire iron from a nearby tool spill and swung. It wasn't elegant. It was brutally effective.
[SKILL UNLOCKED: Close Quarters Combat (Proficient).]
Sirens wailed in the far distance. She couldn't stay. Her car was a wreck. But the keys to the armored truck were still dangling in the ignition. Without a second thought, she vaulted into the driver's seat. The engine roared to life just as a black SUV screeched down the ramp, headlights blazing. More of Alban's men.
"They're still coming!" Sera's voice was frantic. "Kaelen, get out of there!"
"Hold on," Kaelen grunted, slamming the heavy truck into gear.
What followed was not a chase; it was a brawl on wheels. The truck was a battering ram, and Kaelen drove it with a cold, calculated fury. She weaved through the labyrinthine service tunnels beneath the city, the SUV hot on her tail.
"Take the next right!" Sera commanded, her voice now a focused stream of data from the maps on her screen. "It's a maintenance corridor. It's narrow. He won't be able to maneuver!"
Kaelen wrenched the wheel, the truck's tires screaming in protest as it scraped against the concrete walls. The SUV followed, its driver skilled but unprepared for Kaelen's raw aggression. As they burst back out into a deserted dockyard glistening with rain, Kaelen saw her chance. She slammed on the brakes, letting the SUV overshoot her, then stomped on the accelerator, ramming the truck's reinforced bumper directly into the SUV's rear quarter panel.
The PIT maneuver was executed flawlessly. The SUV spun out of control, smashing sideways into a stack of rusted cargo containers with a final, definitive crash.
Kaelen didn't stop. She kept driving, putting distance between herself and the carnage. Only when she was several blocks away, hidden in the shadow of a derelict warehouse, did she cut the engine. For a moment, she just sat there, breathing heavily, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her knuckles were bleeding, and a deep ache was settling into her ribs.
"Kaelen? Report. Are you okay?" Sera's voice was a fragile thread.
Kaelen took a deep, ragged breath, looking at her own wild-eyed reflection in the cracked side-mirror. The cool, detached mask of Lyra Chen was gone. This was the face of Kaelen Blackwood, a survivor.
"I'm fine," she said, her voice hoarse. "Alban is more stupid than I thought. He got desperate."
[QUEST UPDATE: The Usurper's Gambit. Sub-Objective: Survive Retaliation. Status: COMPLETE. WARNING: Further escalations from hostile entities are likely.]
The adrenaline was a live wire under Kaelen's skin, but beneath it, a deep, pulsating ache began to spread from her ribs. She couldn't go back to the tower. Not in this stolen, battered truck, not with the risk of being followed, not with blood on her knuckles.
"Sera," she said, her voice strained but clear over the comms. "I can't come back to the penthouse. It's not secure. I'm ditching this vehicle." She was already navigating the stolen truck towards a sprawling, anonymous parking garage. "I'm heading to the Elysian Hotel on 5th street. Suite 1205. It's booked under 'Chen.' Can you meet me there?"
There was a hesitant pause on the other end. "Iris…"
"I know," Kaelen cut in, her mind already working through the logistics. Her own safety was one thing, but Iris's was paramount. "Call Dr. Theron. Tell him it's a code Lilia. That was my mother's emergency signal. He'll understand the urgency and the need for discretion. Have him come to the penthouse now. I don't want Iris seeing you like this, and I don't want her left alone."
The care and forethought in the order seemed to steady Sera. "Okay," she said, her voice firming. "Okay, I will. Be safe, Kaelen."