Chapter 17
SABLE
We pull up in the skimmer just past midnight, gliding through the fog like ghosts. The warehouse looms in the distance—old, rusted, silent. It’s the kind of place that smells like old blood and burnt circuitry. My boots hit the cracked pavement first, and the chill creeps straight up my spine.
Voltar doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to. The tight clench of his jaw says it all.
This is it.
The neural-linked earpiece pulses to life as we get into position. It feeds me motion sigs, heat readings, the full tactical overlay of our trap. He disappears into the shadows of the upper catwalk without a sound, a living weapon wrapped in obsidian armor.
I walk alone into the center of the kill box.
We set up a spotlight in the middle of the floor—industrial, ugly, and bright enough to show sweat. It flares to life with a static hiss, casting a hard circle of light around me. My shadow stretches like a stain, reaching toward the crates and cables piled around the room.
I stand still. My heart doesn’t.
Then, a door groans open across the room. Casual footsteps echo—confident, easy. A man appears out of the gloom, dressed like a courier. Patch on the chest. A box under one arm. Whistling.
“You’re late,” I say.
He shrugs. “Traffic.” Then tosses the box.
I catch it. It’s light. Wrong.
But it’s the voice that does it.
It slinks down my spine like oil.
“Nice try,” I say, flat, and double-tap my earpiece.
Everything happens at once.
Ceiling panels snap open. Drones scream to life—six of them, fast, angry, precise. Stun-webs fire in perfect sync, a radiant net of crackling light.
But Tugun’s already moving.
His form blurs, ripples—he twists midair with an acrobat’s grace, dodging webs like he knows the rhythm. He cartwheels across concrete, rolls between gaps, and then leaps, narrowly avoiding a net that scorches the floor behind him.
Voltar’s voice crackles in my ear. “He’s not playing.”
“No kidding!” I shout, diving behind a stack of crates.
The courier disguise is gone now—burned away mid-shift. Flesh ripples across Tugun’s body like wet silk, forming no stable shape. He’s part smoke, part nightmare. The kind of thing you don’t fight—you just pray you survive.
Another drone fires. Tugun flips up and over, grazing a wing of the net. It singes part of his arm and for half a second, his illusion collapses—revealing a grotesque amalgam of stolen features and sinew.
Then he’s whole again. Faster.
More precise.
He ducks, tumbles, twists—dodging every single trap with terrifying ease.
He’s not escaping.
Yet.
But he’s dancing on the edge of it.
Too fast.
Too good.
We weren’t ready for this.
The moment the mine hits the floor, it’s like time forgets how to work.
A faint clink echoes off the warehouse walls—innocent, almost too quiet. But in the charged air of a trap gone sideways, it’s a death knell.
“Mine!” Voltar’s shout detonates through my earpiece, louder than the blast that’s about to follow.
I barely turn before a body crashes into mine—dense, armored, moving with impossible speed. Voltar tackles me like a thunderclap, his arms wrapping around my ribs, shielding me with his entire frame.
Then the world breaks.
White light. Heat. A roar that eats the oxygen.
I don’t scream—I can’t. My ears ring like bells melting in my skull. Pressure wraps around my leg, burning sharp and deep. The shockwave kicks dust into my throat. Everything goes sideways.
We hit the ground hard. My shoulder cracks against the concrete, but it’s distant. My nerves are too busy screaming from the agony in my thigh.
Voltar moves fast—terrifyingly fast. Off me, then back again, his hands flying, ripping a field medkit from his belt. He presses something against my leg. I shriek. It’s a primal sound—raw, animal.
“Stay with me!” he roars. “Look at me, damn it!”
I try. I really do. But my vision fractures, streaks of light and shadow flickering like broken film. The ceiling spins above us. Voltar’s face swims into focus—wild eyes, teeth clenched, sweat and blood mingling on his brow.
“I’ve got you, Sable,” he whispers hoarsely, his hand still pressing hard on the wound. “It’s not deep. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”
He’s lying. I can feel how deep the metal went. It burns like someone drove a red-hot rod straight through my thigh and left it there to smolder.
I groan. “Don’t… lie to me.”
His eyes shutter, just for a breath. “Alright. Then I’ll tell you the truth.”
He leans in, presses his forehead against mine.
“I’ve never been this scared in my life.”
Behind us, doors slam open. Lazarus’s squad floods the room, suits humming, rifles up. One of them yells something, but it’s garbled. I can’t track it. I can’t track anything.
“Secure the perimeter! Tugun’s still in the wind!”
Footsteps thunder past. But Voltar doesn’t move. His hands stay locked on me, one on my cheek now, his thumb sweeping away blood or dirt or tears—I don’t even know.
“I told you I’d protect you,” he says. “And I will. No matter what it takes.”
The warmth in his voice cracks me open. I want to cry, but it hurts too much to breathe.
“Don’t you dare close your eyes,” he growls.
“I’m tired…” My voice is barely a whisper.
“No. Not now.” He’s desperate, furious. At me. At himself. At everything.
“Voltar,” I say, or maybe just mouth it. “I… I trust you.”
His eyes widen. Then something breaks inside him.
“SABLE!” he roars, cupping my face. “Medic! I need a medic NOW!”
I don’t hear footsteps anymore. Just the rush of my own pulse—fast, irregular. The world fades at the edges, curling in like burning paper.
Then someone else is there. Gloves on my skin. A hiss of injectors.
“Pressure bandage in place! We need evac!”
“She’s losing too much,” Voltar snarls.
“We’re stabilizing—move back, sir!”
But he doesn’t.
He holds my hand, giant fingers wrapped around mine like armor. His head’s bowed low, his breath uneven. He’s not crying—not Voltar. But I feel the tremble in him, the tremor of helplessness.
“Don’t you dare give up,” he whispers, low and guttural. “You’re not allowed. You don’t get to leave me now.”
I try to squeeze his hand.
Maybe I do.
Maybe I imagine it.
Then the dark comes down like a curtain.
And I fall through it.