B4 was gone. All that remained was the roar of water swallowing the screams of metal, clashing with the dying wail of alarms somewhere in the distance. Miguel pushed every fiber of muscle in his crippled left leg, dragging Anya through a narrow, slippery utility corridor. Waist-high water slammed into them, its cold cutting through their skin, trying to pull them back into the drowning heart of Molserat Tech.“Miguel… let go…” Anya coughed, murky water filling her lungs. “You won’t… make it out if you keep holding me.”“Shut up,” Miguel hissed. His teeth chattered. His hand clamped onto Anya’s jacket like it was the only anchor keeping him from being dragged into madness.Just as they reached the emergency staircase leading to an outer vent, a subtle vibration ran through the concrete walls. Not an explosion. Not collapsing debris. It was the sound of a suppressed shot, the signature of Asset Nineteen’s sniper unit. The sound was so thin, almost lost beneath the rush of water, but to