Chapter Ten
The air always felt different before a fight.
Like the world had pulled itself tight, waiting for the first move to break it open.
Tamsin stood at the edge of the loading bay, the night stretched out beyond it, dark and still in a way that didn’t fool her for a second.
The vehicles were already lined up, engines idling low, lights cut to minimum.
Around her, the E.S.E. moved with practiced precision, no wasted motion, no hesitation.
Victor stepped forward at the center of it all, his presence anchoring the space without needing to raise his voice. When he spoke, everyone heard him.
“This is it,” he said.
No unnecessary weight. Just truth.
“We intercept the deployment team at the corridor,” he continued. “We shut it down before activation.”
Caleb nodded once, the Lions already shifting, ready, their focus locked in. “We take the front, break them before they get close.”
Rafe and Dorian moved in beside them, the Wolves already tracking, already mapping movement patterns in real time.
“We’ll keep them blind,” Rafe said. “They won’t see us coming.”
Sienna stepped forward, her gaze sweeping the room, calculating, sharp. “We don’t let them regroup,” she added. “We hit hard, and we don’t give them space to recover.”
Elara’s voice cut in, quieter but no less steady. “Once the device is secured, we isolate it. No one touches it until we understand what they’ve changed.”
Tamsin took that in, every word settling into place, every piece aligning with what she already knew needed to happen.
Then Victor’s gaze shifted.
To her. To the Razorbacks, and to the Gorillas.
“You move with her,” he said.
Claire didn’t look up from her tablet, her fingers already moving. “Tamsin, you’ll have a window,” she said. “But it won’t be a big one. Don’t miss it.”
Jarek stepped in closer at her side, his shoulder brushing hers briefly, grounding, steady. Aleksy moved to her other side, quieter, but no less present.
“We get her in,” Jarek said. “We get her out.”
The Gorillas stepped forward then, massive, immovable, their presence shifting the energy in the room all on its own.
“We clear the path,” one of them said.
Tamsin exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders once as she let the weight of it settle.
Two fronts. Two objectives.
One outcome.
Victor’s voice cut through again. “We move in five.”
The teams broke cleanly, each unit moving to their designated vehicles, the rhythm of it seamless, practiced.
Jarek’s hand brushed hers as they moved, his fingers catching hers for a brief second.
“You ready for this?” he asked.
“I have been ready to shut these assholes down for a long fucking time,” she said.
Aleksy’s voice came quieter from her other side. “We stay with you.”
Tamsin glanced between them, something tight and steady settling in her chest.
“Good, but keep up,” she said. “Because I’m not slowing down for either of you.”
Jarek huffed a quiet laugh. “We wouldn’t expect you to.”
They moved.
The drive out blurred into motion and silence, the weight of what was coming settling over them without needing to be spoken aloud. Tamsin sat between them in the back, her focus inward, running through the system in her head, the architecture, the flaws, the points where she could break it.
Where she would break it.
Aleksy’s hand rested briefly against her knee, grounding, steady. She didn’t move it away. By the time they reached the outskirts of the facility, the night had gone completely still.
Tamsin felt it immediately.
“They know,” she said.
Jarek didn’t argue. “Yeah.”
The compound rose out of the darkness ahead of them, larger than the previous sites, more fortified. Lights cut low, but not off. Movement barely visible along the perimeter.
“This is a trap,” Aleksy said.
“Of course it is,” Tamsin replied. “Totally getting trap vibes of this place.”
She stepped out of the vehicle before the engine had fully cut, her boots hitting the ground with a solid thud as she took in the structure, the layout, the entry points.
The Razorbacks moved with her as the Gorillas fanned out, already adjusting, already preparing to break through whatever stood in their way.
Tamsin’s gaze tracked the building, her mind mapping it in real time, finding the access point she needed, the fastest path to the system core.
“There,” she said, pointing toward a secondary access on the east side. “That gets us closest to the mainframe.”
One of the Gorillas nodded. “We’ll open it.”
Jarek’s attention shifted, scanning the perimeter. “Too quiet.”
“Not for long,” Aleksy said.
He was right. The first hybrid hit the perimeter line like it had been waiting for the signal. Then another. Then—more.
They came out of the darkness in numbers that made the air shift, bodies moving too fast, too coordinated, their forms wrong in ways that still made something in Tamsin’s chest tighten.
Chimera hadn’t just left guards. They’d left a wall.
Jarek’s grin came sharp, dangerous. “This looks fun.”
Aleksy stepped forward, his stance settling, his focus locking in. “Stay close.”
Tamsin didn’t argue.
Didn’t hesitate.
“Break them down,” she said. “I need that door.”
The Gorillas didn’t answer. They shifted.
It started deep, a ripple through bone and muscle that expanded outward, bodies tearing free of human limits as mass surged, shoulders widening, spines reshaping.
Then they charged with a roar.
The ground didn’t just shake—it responded, the force of their movement slamming forward like a living battering ram as they hit the first wave of hybrids head-on.
And the hybrids—broke.
Tamsin felt the shift beside her before she saw it.
Jarek and Aleksy didn’t hesitate, didn’t hold back. They let go.
Their bodies surged, expanding with brutal efficiency, skin giving way to thick, battle-hardened hide, muscle layering over muscle as they grew, rising, widening, becoming something far more dangerous than the men she knew.
Razorbacks.
Tusks curved forward, wicked and sharp, eyes burning deep red as instinct took hold. And then they were moving.
Fast.
Faster than something that size should have been able to move. They didn’t weave through the hybrids. They went through them.
Bodies slammed aside, thrown clear under the force of impact as Jarek plowed straight into the front line, Aleksy following just off his flank, their movements instinctive, coordinated, devastating. Heads swinging, tusks moving with deadly intent.
Tamsin moved behind them.
The hybrids came fast. Too fast. But they weren’t prepared for this. Not the gorillas or the razorbacks slamming through their ranks.
Steel met flesh as she drove her sai home, pivoting under a strike that would have taken her head clean off, redirecting the momentum and finishing it in the same motion.
Behind her, a Gorilla caught one of the larger hybrids mid-charge and crushed it, bone giving under sheer pressure before tossing it aside like it weighed nothing.
Jarek tore through another, tusks driving forward, ripping through resistance without slowing. Aleksy moved cleaner, more controlled, but no less lethal, each strike placed with devastating accuracy.
And together—they broke the line.
“Door!” Tamsin yelled.
One of the Gorillas peeled off immediately, massive form slamming into the reinforced access point. Metal screamed, the impact hit harder, the entire frame shuddering under the force.
The door gave.
Tamsin didn’t hesitate. She ran. Through the opening, into the facility, her focus snapping forward, locking onto the path she needed, the system she had to reach.
Behind her, the fight didn’t slow.
Didn’t ease.
If anything, it escalated.
More hybrids flooded in, drawn to the breach, drawn to the violence, their numbers surging as they pressed harder, faster, trying to overwhelm sheer force with volume.
Then—a voice cut through her comms.
Sharp. Urgent.
“Tigers to all units—update!”
Tamsin didn’t slow, but every instinct sharpened.
“Say it,” Victor snapped.
“They’re moving on the hospital.”
Everything inside her stilled.
“They want Naomi,” she said.
Of course they did.
Behind her, she felt it—the shift.
The Gorillas looked at her
“Yes, go!” she ordered, but they were already moving.
The Gorillas didn’t hesitate.
They turned—and charged back into the dark.
Jarek’s voice, having shifted back, cut through sharply. “They’re leaving now?”
“Naomi’s the target,” Tamsin replied. “I know it, and I will not lose her.”
Aleksy’s gaze found hers.
Tamsin’s jaw set. “We’ve got this.”
They nodded, then both shifted back.
Jarek shifted closer to her, massive form streaked with blood, his presence wild, dangerous, alive in a way that sent a sharp thrill through her.
Aleksy took position on her other side, steadier, controlled, but no less lethal.
She tightened her grip on her sai, her focus locking forward.
“Then let’s finish it,” she said.
And together—they went to war.
****
They hit resistance the second they crossed the threshold.
Not scattered or disorganized, but layered.
Aleksy felt it immediately—the shift in pressure as the interior corridors funneled the hybrids into tighter choke points, forcing close combat where numbers mattered more than space.
Which was exactly what Chimera wanted.
He didn’t slow. Didn’t hesitate.
He drove forward, his body still in full Razorback form, mass and force working in his favor as he took the lead, clearing the path ahead with brutal precision.
Behind him, Tamsin moved fast, tighter, sharper in enclosed space, her presence threading through the chaos where he and Jarek created openings.
Jarek stayed on his flank, wild and relentless, their movements syncing without thought as they pushed deeper into the facility.
“Left corridor,” Tamsin called, her voice cutting clean through the noise. “That takes us closer to the core.”
Aleksy pivoted immediately, slamming through a hybrid that lunged too slow, its body thrown hard into the wall as he turned into the narrower passage.
The space tightened.
Good. They controlled this better here.
He wished he could talk in his animal form. He wanted to tell her to stay close, but he neither had bothered. Tamsin stayed right on his flank, and every time he broke a line—she was already moving through it.
They advanced fast, but the resistance didn’t thin.
It increased.
More hybrids poured in from side corridors, their movements more coordinated than before, less feral, more directed.
“They’re herding us,” Tamsin growled as Aleksy took one down hard, tusks tearing through before he shoved the body aside.
Which meant—they were close.
“Terminal’s ahead,” Tamsin said. “Two levels down from the next junction—central chamber.”
Aleksy pushed harder, driving forward, his body taking the brunt of the hits now, using sheer force to break through where speed alone wouldn’t be enough.
A hybrid caught him from the side. But he didn’t stop, or even slow. He turned into it, crushing it under the full weight of his movement before driving forward again.
The comms crackled.
“Tigers to all units—update from corridor site.”
Background noise filtered through—gunfire, shouting, controlled chaos.
“We’ve got eyes on deployment team,” Dorian reported. “Device is active but not triggered. Repeat—active, not triggered.”
Aleksy’s focus sharpened.
Time just shortened.
“How long?” Tamsin demanded.
“Unknown,” Elara shouted. “But it’s ramping up, you don’t have long.”
Tamsin swore under her breath. “Then we don’t have margin. I need that system now.”
Aleksy increased pace. No more measured advance.
They broke into a run. The corridor opened into a wider junction, and the next wave hit harder—larger hybrids, reinforced, faster.
Designed to hold.
Aleksy didn’t hesitate. He charged.
The impact cracked through the space, bodies colliding, force meeting force as he drove through the center, Jarek flanking, tearing the line apart from the side.
Tamsin moved behind them, precise, deadly, finishing what they broke, keeping the path open.
“Stairs!” she called.
Aleksy saw it.
He slammed into the remaining resistance, clearing just enough space. She didn’t hesitate. She ran past them, taking the stairs two at a time, disappearing below as he and Jarek turned to hold the line.
Aleksy shifted his stance, lowering his center, becoming the wall.
Jarek hit the right flank, fast and brutal, their movements tightening into something purely instinctive.
“Tamsin,” Victor called through comms. “Status.”
A beat.
Then—
“I’m in,” she said.
Aleksy exhaled once, sharp.
Her voice came back, tighter now, focused. “They’ve rebuilt the framework, forced stabilization through redundancy loops.”
Aleksy processed that instantly. “They’re compensating for the collapse.”
“Yes,” she said. “But it’s sloppy. They’ve layered overrides instead of fixing the core.”
Jarek took down another hybrid, shoving it aside.
Tamsin kept talking. “They’ve made it look stable, it’s not. If I hit the right point, it’ll cascade.”
Aleksy held position, driving another hybrid back.
The comms alerted again.
“Tigers—update!”
This time it wasn’t controlled.
It was tight. Urgent.
“They’re escalating,” Kamon said. “Device output is spiking—repeat, spiking. We are losing control of the perimeter.”
Inside his animal, Aleksy’s concern grew.
“How long before it triggers?” Ivan’s voice came quick through comms.
“Unknown—but it’s climbing fast!” Elara advised.
Sienna’s voice cut in. “Tamsin—”
“I know,” Tamsin snapped. “I’m working it.”
More hybrids flooded the corridor. They pressed harder, forcing Aleksy back a step for the first time since they’d entered. Jarek hit the sideline harder, compensating, keeping the pressure from collapsing inward.
Aleksy adjusted, holding, but the margin was gone. They couldn’t hold for much longer, but he wouldn’t have told her even if he could. She had enough on her plate.
Then—
“I see it,” she said.
Something in her voice changed. Locked in.
“They’ve anchored the cascade to the output trigger,” she continued. “If I break the sequence before it peaks—”
“You stop it,” Elara finished for her.
“Yes,” she said.
“And if you don’t?”
Silence.
Then—
“It triggers anyway.”
The comms exploded with noise from the other site—gunfire, shouted commands, the sound of something building toward a breaking point.
Aleksy held the line. Jarek held with him. Neither of them gave ground.
Because they couldn’t.
Because everything now came down to one thing—her.
“Tamsin,” Victor said, steady, controlled despite the pressure building around him. “Talk to me.”
A breath.
Then—
“I’m in the sequence,” she said.
Another beat.
“I just need—”
The line crackled.
Cut. Static.
Aleksy didn’t move. Didn’t falter. But everything inside him locked tight. The corridor surged again, and the pressure doubled.
Jarek slammed into the next wave, holding it back just long enough for Aleksy to re-anchor.
The comms flared again—voices overlapping.
“Output spike—!”
“Containment failing—!”
“Brace—!”
Every instinct screaming. Every calculation running. Every outcome narrowing to a single point.
The corridor closed in, and the pressure peaked.
And somewhere below them—Tamsin either saved them all—or didn’t.