“Move,” I shout.
The word tears out of me, raw and violent, louder than anything else in the station. It echoes back distorted, multiplied by concrete and water and curved walls, like the station itself is screaming with me. There is no debate. No countdown. No last-second calculation about wires or timers or clever solutions. Adrian did not build this to be defused. He built it to force motion. Panic. Choice.
“Run. Now.”
The team reacts instantly. Training overrides fear the way it always does. Boots pound against concrete as we turn in unison, sprinting back the way we came. Flashlights bounce wildly, beams fracturing across walls and ceiling, turning shadows into lunging shapes that disappear just as fast. The beeping behind us accelerates, sharp and insistent, slicing through the ai
