The loud music of the Founders' Ball suddenly stopped. A harsh, blaring alarm began to shriek through the Prosperity Tower. Red lights flashed, painting everything in a frantic glow. The happy chatter of the rich guests turned into shouts of fear and confusion.
"Lockdown!" Lena yelled, her voice barely heard over the alarm. "They've sealed the building!"
Anya looked around. The grand entrance they had used to get in was now blocked by thick, metal security shields sliding down from the ceiling. Other doors were doing the same. Guests were pushing and shoving, trying to find a way out, but there was no escape.
"They knew," Jaxon muttered, his face grim. "Someone figured it out. Or maybe Thorne just got lucky."
The chameleon cloth around them was failing fast now. It flickered like crazy, showing their true shapes for split seconds before blurring them again. They couldn't hide in the crowd anymore. They were exposed.
"We need to get to a service exit," Anya said, trying to stay calm. "Lena, you know the building's plans, right? Any secret ways out?"
Lena was already thinking, her eyes quickly scanning the walls and ceiling. "There's an old maintenance shaft on the lower levels. It leads to the underground transport tunnels. But it's rarely used, probably locked down tight."
"Locked down or not, it's our only chance," Anya said. "Jaxon, can you make a path? Keep the crowd away from us."
Jaxon nodded, his usual complaining gone. He moved with a surprising new energy, using his body to push through the panicked guests, clearing a small space for them.
Just then, a voice boomed over the alarm system, clear and angry. It was Commander Thorne.
"Attention all units! We have intruders! Seal all levels! They are highly dangerous and suspected of attempting to steal classified information! Find them!"
The message was meant to scare, but it only made Anya more determined. Thorne knew they were here. He knew what they wanted.
Suddenly, a group of CID Special Enforcement officers, easily seen in their dark, unmarked uniforms, burst into the ballroom. They moved with hard precision, pushing guests aside, their eyes already scanning for any sign of trouble. They weren't looking for ordinary criminals. They were looking for them.
"They're coming for us specifically," Lena said, pulling Anya's arm. "This way! Towards the back service stairs!"
The three of them moved like shadows, even as their chameleon cloth began to spark and fail completely. The glittering ballroom had become a deadly trap. They were cornered, with Commander Thorne's angry voice echoing in their ears, and highly trained CID officers closing in. Their only way out was through the dark, unknown paths of the tower's guts.