The sound of the first gunshot echoed through the room, sharp and thunderous, slicing through the tense atmosphere. It was as if nature itself had unleashed its fury. Shards of glass cascaded down from the now-shattered window, glinting ominously under the crimson hues of the setting sun. Instinct kicked in for Ezra, and he quickly ducked, though pain shot through his injured arm as he rolled off the toppled chair, desperately clutching the precious crystal close to his heart.
"Get down!" Kael shouted, his trench coat billowing behind him like a flag of urgency. Without a moment's hesitation, he hurled himself against the desk, crashing it onto its side to create a barrier for Ezra. Almost immediately, a pulse round slammed into the steel surface with a deafening thud, leaving behind a dent and a hissing trail of molten metal.
"Luka," Kael commanded, his tone sharp and authoritative.
"I'm already working on it," replied the AI, its voice crisp and efficient. Suddenly, the emergency lights flared to life, fracturing the shadows that enveloped the room. Holographic displays sprang into existence, flooding the space with bewildering projections—hundreds of transparent figures of Kael advanced toward them, flickering in and out of reality, each one brandishing an invisible weapon.
The mercenaries hesitated, fear etching their features as they aimlessly fired into the illusions, the air bursting with sparks while noxious smoke began to creep in around them.
"Move, Ezra!" Kael shouted, his grip tightening around Ezra's wrist as he pulled him behind the makeshift cover. Ezra's heart raced, pounding loudly in his ears like a war drum. Guilt gnawed at him, tightening its grip with each frantic heartbeat. The betrayal by Nico wasn't just a personal wound for Kael; it reflected the dark secret Ezra held, one that felt like a dagger lodged painfully in his own chest.
Amidst the chaos, he heard Nico's voice slice through the clamor—sharp and victorious. "You can't save him, Kael! You never had a chance. No matter how much power you wield, you're still just flesh and blood, vulnerable like the rest of us."
Kael sprang to his feet, his gaze locking onto Nico through the haze of smoke and confusion. The illusions vanished along with the barriers of department, leaving nothing but unadulterated fury in their wake.
"You were family," Kael's voice trembled under the weight of his emotions, cracking like the fragile steel around them. "And you chose this path."
For a fleeting moment, Nico's expression faltered; there was a subtle flicker of doubt in his eyes. But just as quickly, the grin returned—fragile but fierce. "I chose to survive."
In an instant, Kael was in motion, a whirlwind amidst the chaos. One mercenary crumpled to the ground, his rifle wrenched forcibly from his grip. Another collapsed under the force of an unforgiving strike. As Luka funneled all available energy into shielding Kael's movements, he honed in on every step with meticulous precision, the illusions collapsing behind him.
Ezra pressed himself against the desk, trembling as he struggled to catch his breath. Each punch Kael delivered resonated not just against their attackers, but within the depths of Ezra's own heart—because when this conflict reached its end, his quiet betrayal would stand in the glaring spotlight, overshadowed only by the toxic glow of Nico's actions.
And Nico was acutely aware of this. His gaze locked onto Ezra, eyes gleaming with a cruel understanding of the deep connection between them. The weight of the moment was palpable, charged with the tension of unspoken truths and impending confrontation.