The corridor was still.Brick’s corpse steamed on the floor, twitching faintly as residual energy leaked from his shattered chest core. Dylan stood over him like a war statue—bloodied, bent, barely standing.Then he staggered.His knees buckled once, and he dropped to one hand, breathing sharp and shallow.Vivian rushed to his side. “Dylan?!”He tried to wave her off, but his arm trembled too hard to lift.“Just… residual shock. I’m fine.”He wasn’t.Not even close.The burn across his ribs was spreading—metal plates blackened and sizzling. The stab wound in his shoulder was gushing dark hydraulic fluid, mixing with blood. His internal systems were failing fast.Vivian’s hands hovered helplessly over him. “We need to get out of here—now.”He gritted his teeth. “Can’t… yet.”Before she could ask why, a loud BOOM shattered the tense silence.The blast doors at the far end of the compound detonated inward in a cloud of smoke and debris.Red emergency lights strobing. The metal groaned un

“Okay—okay,” he whispered.She locked the board in place with straps, tighten medic band, then found a sealant. Poured it along wires.“Feel any stab of pain?” she asked.He hissed as she worked. “Yeah.”She knelt, bandaging. “You’ll feel more if I don’t do this right.”He closed his eyes, steady.She paused. Tears in her eyes. “God, Dylan… I don’t know how to fix someone like you.”He touched her gloved wrist. “You’re doing… amazingly.”She swallowed. “Not good with praise.”He smiled. “Get… better.”“Mm.”She finished. Checked the seal. “Mechanical stability improved by 27%.” She grimaced back at him. “Just kidding. I don’t know.”“You… know enough.” He panted. “Thanks.”She stood, brushing hair back. “You’re not out yet.”He nodded.Silence hung heavy. After a long beat, she said softly: “What are you thinking about?”He stared at the ceiling. “Home.”Vivian sucked in breath. She remembered. “Your mom—”He nodded. “She… will kill me if I come home like this.”She snorted. “You brok

⸻Thirty minutes later – Echo’s encrypted lineStatic. Then a voice: smooth, synthetic, and amused.“Well, well. If it isn’t the almost-dead Dragon.”Dylan coughed once. “Echo. I need eyes on Viktor Drovos. He’s holding my daughters.”“Oof. That’s dark,” she said, tone teasing but concerned. “Thought you two were besties.”“Not anymore.”“Alright. Give me thirty minutes. I’ll ping you with coordinates. But Dylan—if you’re going after him, take backup. He’s built a fortress inside a nightclub. The Grand Pavilion.”Vivian raised an eyebrow. “A nightclub?”He let out a humorless chuckle. “Yup. Loud music, illegal biotech, black‑market auctions, the usual villain stuff. Oh, and cameras everywhere.”“We walk in, we’re target practice,” Vivian muttered.Dylan looked to her. “I’m not walking in. I’m hunting.”She stared at him. “Then I’m driving.”He grinned. “Deal.”“Coordinates incoming,” Echo said. “And Dylan… bring me back a souvenir.”The feed cut.⸻Ten minutes later – in the back of a

The night air hit them like a slap as Dylan hoisted Helen carefully into his arms. She was lighter than he expected—fragile as a leaf about to be torn by the wind.Vivian stayed close, eyes scanning the darkened alleyways and broken streets as they moved. “We don’t have much time,” she said sharply. “They’ll be looking for her.”Dylan’s jaw tightened. “I know.” His voice was low, almost a growl. “We have to be fast but quiet.”Helen’s breathing was shallow, almost imperceptible, and Dylan’s arms trembled slightly as he held her. “Hang in there, Helen,” he whispered, more to himself than her. “We’re getting you out.”Vivian stepped ahead, pulling a small flashlight from her jacket pocket. She flicked it on briefly—just long enough to map out their path ahead—before switching it off again. “We’ll stick to the shadows,” she said. “No streetlamps, no open spaces. Just alleyways and side streets.” Her tone was clipped, urgent.Dylan nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on Helen’s pale face. “Lea

⸻The moment the masked men burst in, Dylan was already moving.“Down!” he shouted, diving to the side and kicking the coffee table over for makeshift cover. Bullets ripped through plaster as Vivian returned fire with deadly precision, crouched behind the kitchen island.“Three hostiles!” Vivian barked, her voice sharp as she took another shot. “No insignia. No hesitation. They’re professionals.”“On it,” Dylan growled, vaulting over the couch. He slammed into one of the intruders, elbows-first, driving his knee into the man’s side before twisting the rifle from his hands in a fluid motion. Crack! The rifle clattered across the hardwood.“Nice,” Vivian called. “Keep them busy!”The second masked man lunged at Dylan with a baton. He ducked low—Mara, still crouching protectively over Helen near the far wall, lashed out with a metal tray, smacking the attacker across the jaw.“Get your hands off my patient,” she hissed, voice tight.“Mara, back!” Dylan shouted between gritted teeth, stil