"Oof!" Bastian grunted as his boots slammed into the cracked, weed-choked asphalt of the street below. He stumbled forward, barely catching himself on the rusted, dented hood of an old sedan. "Okay, that was definitely more than a twelve-foot drop. I think my knees just took a detour through my chest.""Your new skeletal matrix successfully absorbed ninety-eight percent of the kinetic impact," the System's voice echoed directly inside his head. "However, your brain is still translating the sudden deceleration as physical trauma. It is a psychological phantom.""Yeah, well, tell my psychological phantom to shut up," Bastian wheezed, pushing himself upright and shaking out his legs. He was amazed to find that despite the hard landing, he wasn't broken. "How much time is left on that ridiculous clock?""Fourteen minutes and fifty-two seconds," the blue interface blinked in his upper-right field of vision, its numbers ticking down with merciless precision. "The target’s vitals are droppin

"God, it's thick down here!" Bastian coughed, shielding his face with his sleeve as he hit the bottom of the stairs. "The air is practically flammable!""Don't breathe it in too deep!" Ariana's voice drifted down the stairwell, echoing off the damp concrete. "And whatever you do, do not spark anything!""Easy for you to say!" Bastian called back, squinting through the pitch blackness. "I can't see my own hands down here! System, turn on a flashlight or something.""Night vision calibration active," the System’s voice chimed inside his head.His vision shifted instantly, washing the room in a pale, high-contrast green."Warning," the System added. "Liquid hydrocarbon concentration in the atmosphere is at critical levels. Ignition source detected three meters ahead.""I see it," Bastian muttered, his throat tightening. "And it's bad. Really bad.""What do you see?" Ariana yelled from the top of the stairs, her tone sharp with panic. "Bastian, talk to me! What’s happening down there?""T

The static hissed loudly from the old fire station radio speaker, filling the garage with a harsh, rhythmic white noise."...any station receiving this transmission, respond immediately..." the voice repeated, fading under another wave of distortion before starting over."Is it just going to loop like that?" Bastian asked, leaning over the dusty metal console and squinting at the flickering green dials."Looks like an automated emergency beacon," Ariana said, her fingers flying across the glowing keyboard of the newly powered station computer. "It's transmitting on an old military frequency. High-band VHF. That's why our new antenna picked it up so clearly.""Bravo-Actual," Bastian murmured, shaking his head. "I remember that call sign from the early days of the collapse. It was a regional defense unit. But Sector Four... where is that exactly?""The industrial basin near the old shipyards," Ariana replied, looking up at him with wide, worried eyes. "But Bastian, that area is a death