Zubair stepped through the splintered frame before the pieces hit the floor.
Elias moved right, his rifle up. Lachlan went left, his machete ready. Alexei slipped in last, cold on his skin, fog on his breath. Luci flowed between all four of them, a gray shadow with blood on his muzzle.
Sera was already inside.
She had come from the far hall, quiet and steady, the dark around her like a coat.
Blood streaked her forearms to the fingers. Her shirt clung to her ribs where the wounds had closed.
Her eyes were the same as they had been in the control room—flat, unreadable, fixed on the next problem.
Two guards had tried to anchor the lab. One on a rolling stool, one behind a tipped table.
They didn't last.
Sera crossed the space and broke the first one's neck with a single twist. No wasted motion. No sound except the snap. Luci hit the second low and tore into him.
The body bucked once and went dead.
