Chapter 42: The Rationed Drop"I'm calculating our statistical chances of survival, Arga, and right now they're hovering somewhere around zero," Elias wheezed, his knuckles whitening around the iron crowbar until his skin looked translucent. "We have half a satellite module, three rounds of ammunition between Kaelen and me, and an entire syndicate death squad blocking the primary exit. What’s your brilliant logistical solution to that?"Arga didn’t blink. His hand closed around the heavy, rubber-insulated casing of the overhead power cable, his fingers testing the tension of the copper core within. "The statistical chances only drop to zero if you stop moving, Elias. Let go of the existential dread and grab the other end of this wire.""Are you insane?" Kaelen hissed, stepping in front of Arga, her submachine gun leveled at the dark corridor leading deeper into the factory's bowels. "That line runs straight from the municipal sub-grid. It’s carrying enough juice to light up half the d

Chapter 44: The Ledger of Broken Pledges"I'm not trying to orchestrate a mass suicide, Kaelen, I'm trying to ensure we live long enough to regret ever walking into this godforsaken district," Arga said, his voice cutting through the humid, stale air of the abandoned factory with a cold, unyielding flatness that brooked no argument. He didn't drop his gaze, holding her fierce, mistrustful glare as the heavy barrel of her submachine gun pressed harder against his sternum. "Lower the weapon. Now. Or you can explain to your little sister back at the camp why you decided to execute the only person holding the lease on your survival."Kaelen’s breath hitched. For a fraction of a second, the muscles in her jaw clenched so hard a vein throbbed violently at her temple. The muzzle of the gun trembled, not from fear, but from the raw, volcanic fury churning inside her chest. Her eyes darted wildly toward the dark, yawning corridor behind them where the distant sound of boots splashing through o

Chapter 46: Blueprint in the Blood"Both of you, shut the hell up!" Elias hissed, his voice cracking as he slammed his palm against the rusted corrugated iron wall of the abandoned dockside warehouse. A cloud of gray, toxic industrial dust billowed down from the rafters, settling over their shoulders like ash. "If Vane’s patrol boat cuts its engines around the western breakwater, they won't even need to use their thermal scopes to find us. They’ll hear you two arguing over whose fault it is that we’re standing knee-deep in chemical sludge!"Kaelen didn’t lower her weapon, but the tremor in her arms subsided, replaced by a rigid, white-knuckled grip. Her eyes flicked from Arga’s unblinking gaze to the damp, gray concrete floor where the heavy steel blueprint canister lay half-submerged in oily water. "He thinks this is a game, Elias. He thinks because he has that damn glowing inventory box in his pocket, he can play chess with people's lives like we're just trade tokens on a ledger.""

Chapter 48: The Iron Containment"You traded our position to Vane’s perimeter guard just to test the delivery latency of your inventory system!" Kaelen snarled, her voice climbing in pitch despite Elias frantically waving his hands to silence her. "Do you have any idea what it’s like inside one of those military shipping containers? The air tastes like rust and old copper, and every time a boot hits the corrugated metal roof above your head, you spend the next ten seconds wondering if this is the moment they roll a teargas canister down the seam!"Arga didn't blink. His fingers remained braced against the cold metal of her weapon, his thumb casually resting over the cooling jacket of the submachine gun as if he were holding the handle of a grocery basket. "And if I hadn't tested that latency right when I did, your sister would currently be filling out paperwork for an unmarked grave in the municipal incinerator," Arga replied, his tone chillingly level, devoid of any emotional spike t

Chapter 50: The Bay Outpost"If I wanted to test generators, Kaelen, I wouldn't have spent three hours crawling through a six-inch drainage pipe filled with industrial chemical runoff just to pull a half-conscious girl out of a shipping container while your own scout team was busy abandoning their posts," Arga retorted, his voice dropping into that quiet, razor-sharp register that always forced the room to instantly fall silent. He didn't raise his voice, nor did he step forward to close the distance between them. He simply stood by the edge of the rusted steel pier, letting the acrid smell of the oily bay water wash over them. "You want to scream about logistics and stress tests? Fine. Go ahead. But while you're standing here yelling about fuel rations and unmarked graves, your sister is currently wrapped in three layers of dry wool inside that hull over there, breathing on her own for the first time in four days because I spent my last operational credit on a portable oxygen concent