They swept the wing. Nothing lived behind them.
Back in the main spine, a team of eight tried to stack shields across the width of the hall. They were slow. They were loud. They believed numbers changed facts.
Elias put two rounds through the gap at knee height.
A man screamed and fell, shield tipping.
Alexei iced the floor out beyond the line in a thin, clear gloss.
The front feet of the remaining shields slid left, right, and then out. Lachlan surged through the mess, machete hitting hands and faces.
Zubair grabbed the top of a shield and tore it free, threw it into the line like a coin through glass. Sera stepped into the broken center, cut two throats with her bare hands, and walked out the far side before the rest hit the tile.
Silence came again.
Water dripped. Pipes ticked as they cooled.
Sera turned down a narrow service hall no one else would have chosen.
The men didn't question it.
