The ticking clock vanished, replaced by the loud, high-pitched scream of the fire-suppression alarm. The hissing of the Halon gas created an overwhelming sound, a promise of a quiet, suffocating death. The only light came from the pulsing red of the Ouroboros symbol on the blacked-out screens, casting the room in shades reminiscent of a slaughterhouse.
"I can't breathe," Aria gasped, clutching her throat. It was a psychological response, but the physical one was close behind. I could already taste the metallic flavor of the gas.
Dante acted quickly. There was no time for strategy. This was a fight for survival. "Nyx! Where's the vent?" he yelled over the alarm.
"Behind the main server rack!" she shouted back, panic tightening her voice. "But it's magnetically locked, Dante, I can't—"
"I don't care if it's welded shut!"
He found it, a large steel grate behind the server bank. He took hold of the handle, his muscles straining, and pulled. The magnetic lock, powered by the enemy's controls, held firm. It wouldn't budge.
From the main door, a new sound emerged. A high-pitched, chilling whine cut through the alarm. A plasma torch. They weren't waiting for the gas; they were cutting their way in.
We were trapped. Suffocation from within, execution from without.
Dante raised his pistol, aimed at the top hinge of the vent cover, and fired. The sound thundered in the confined space. He fired again and again, shooting out the bolts from the concrete wall.
"Isabella!" he yelled, not looking at me. "Watch the door!"
I rushed to his side, turning my back to him and facing the main entrance. I raised the pistol he had given me, my hands steady and my stance mirroring his. The heavy ledger was tucked securely in my robe's inside pocket. I was its guardian. Together, we were a two-person army, back-to-back, fighting in the dark.
The gas hissed louder. The air was becoming sparse, my lungs screaming for oxygen. My head started to spin. Beside me, Aria collapsed, coughing.
A section of the main door turned white-hot, and then a chunk of molten metal fell to the floor. They were almost through.
"Dante, hurry!" I cried, my voice sounding far away.
He fired his last bullet into the final bolt. The metal protested loudly. He dropped the empty gun, seized the grate with both hands, and pulled. With a groan of tortured metal, the vent cover tore free from the wall, crashing to the floor with a deafening boom.
A rush of cold, clean air hit my face from the dark, gaping hole.
"Aria!" Dante grabbed his sister, dragging her from the floor. He shoved her into the shaft. "Nyx! Go! Go with her!"
Nyx, who had been trying to revive Aria, didn't argue. She scrambled into the vent after her.
"Dante, they're through!" I screamed.
The main door exploded inward in a shower of sparks and molten steel, ripped from its hinges. A half-dozen figures in black, full-body armor flooded the room. Their faces were obscured by gas masks, and their eyes looked like the frightening, multi-lensed optics of insects. They raised their weapons, the red Ouroboros symbol on the screens reflecting off their visors.
"Isabella! GO!"
Dante grabbed me, his grip like iron on my arm, and threw me towards the open vent. I tumbled into the darkness of the shaft, the ledger a solid, reassuring weight against my chest.
I turned just in time to see something I never wanted to witness.
Dante didn't follow me.
He stepped away from the vent, his body forming a defiant barrier between me and the invading team. He held his empty pistol in one hand and the heavy steel vent cover he had just ripped off the wall in the other.
He was buying us seconds. He stood like a king, alone in his throne room, armed with nothing but a broken gun and a piece of scrap metal, facing an army to protect his queen's escape.
The first bullets hit him. I watched his body jolt, blood spraying against the wall behind him. His name became a strangled, broken scream in my throat as the soldiers advanced, guns blazing, engulfing him in a storm of fire and shadow.