In the gallery, the intruder used the darkness first, breaking from the deadlock with Lu Ting Cheng and vanishing down the metal grating like a shadow unmoored.
Ting Cheng pivoted, ears tracking over sight, following the faint whisper of boots on steel.
A single flash, a muzzle flare, split the black. The shot wasn't aimed at him.
---
Corridor Six
The gunshot came almost at the same instant as the lights died.
The woman in black dropped low, rolling away from the charcoal man's grasp.
He didn't need light. One hand stayed on the tube, the other caught the wall for balance.
Somewhere to his right, one of his shadows was moving, too fast, too sure, closing in on her position.
She didn't retreat. She surged forward, both hands locking onto the tube, wrenching it toward her chest.
The charcoal man's grip tightened. Neither could see the other's eyes, but the strain in their breathing told the story, whoever lost this tug wouldn't get a second chance.
Main Floor
