The goon's footsteps grew louder, each thud reverberating like a drumbeat in my ears as he closed the distance to my hiding spot. I pressed my back against the rough wooden crate, steadying my breathing to avoid making even the faintest sound. My fists tightened, ready to attack when he drew close enough. My heart raced, a chaotic rhythm that threatened to drown out rational thought. I couldn't afford hesitation. This was the moment to act.
Suddenly, he stopped.
"Huh?" His voice broke the silence, low and uncertain. He cocked his head, scanning the shadows. "Who's there?"
His flashlight swayed, slicing through the dimness as he squinted, trying to pierce the gloom. My body tensed like a coiled spring. I was about to strike when a blur of movement from above caught my attention. Before I could react, a shadowy figure leapt from the rafters, descending with an elegance that was both mesmerizing and deadly.
The figure landed with a forceful kick to the goon's head. Despite the protective helmet he wore, the impact was enough to stagger him. The figure—clearly female from her silhouette—landed gracefully between him and me, her low-heeled boots clicking against the concrete floor. The goon stumbled but quickly regained his footing, raising his weapon to fire.
In the dim light, I could make out the distinct curves of her athletic figure and the bounce of her curly, chestnut-brown hair tied back in a ponytail. She moved like a dancer, her reflexes sharp and precise. Before he could pull the trigger, she launched herself onto a nearby crate with startling agility.
With a fluid flip, she lashed out with another kick, this time knocking the SMG from his hands. The gun clattered to the ground, its cold steel echoing ominously. She didn't stop there. Spinning midair, she delivered a crushing blow to the side of his head. The goon crumpled against the crates, unconscious, his massive frame slumping lifelessly.
For a moment, I stood frozen, unsure whether to feel relieved or threatened. My eyes darted between the motionless goon and the mysterious woman who had just taken him down. She turned, her gaze locking onto mine. Though the dim lighting obscured her face, her expression was unmistakable: disdain, as if she were appraising an amateur who had no business being here.
I wanted to say something, anything, but words failed me. My confusion only deepened when she began walking toward me. Her boots clicked on the concrete, the sound reverberating like castanets in the tense stillness. She stopped mere inches away, her presence commanding and unyielding.
Without a word, she grabbed my arm, prying open my hand to reveal the location sticker I had been clutching. Before I could protest, she snatched it away and slapped it onto the crate I had been hiding behind. The sticker glowed faintly, signaling its activation.
"See that one right there? That's your new partner," came a voice in my earpiece.
Partner? I glanced back at her, bewildered. She stared at me for a moment, her gaze cool and unreadable. Though I couldn't make out the finer details of her face, I noted her height—nearly the same as mine—and her slim, hourglass frame. She exuded confidence, her movements deliberate and efficient.
Before I could process the situation, she suddenly reached out and grabbed my head, forcing me to bend forward. Irritated, I instinctively pulled back, only to see what she had been trying to show me—a scorched mark on the ground, still faintly smoking.
"What the hell?" I muttered.
She didn't answer. Instead, she grabbed my shoulders and shoved me against the side of a towering crate. Her strength was surprising, her grip firm and unyielding.
"Be aware of your surroundings," she ordered, her voice sharp and authoritative.
From behind her belt, she pulled out a baton-like handle and pressed a button. A glowing, whip-like energy flowed from it, humming faintly as she stepped out of cover. I leaned around the crate to get a better look, my breath catching as I spotted four drones hovering in the distance. They resembled mechanical lotus flowers, their metallic petals gleaming ominously as they swiveled, searching for targets. Each drone was armed with mounted laser guns that glowed a menacing red.
I reached for the pistol at my hip, pulling it free. A sinking feeling hit me as I realized it wasn't loaded. Frustrated, I rummaged through the pouch on my utility belt, finding two magazines: one glowing blue and the other green. Blue for disabling machines, green for organic targets.
Without hesitation, I loaded the blue magazine and prepared to engage.
Meanwhile, the woman was already in action. She leapt onto one of the drones, her movements impossibly graceful. Her energy whip crackled as she lashed out, slicing through two drones in quick succession. Sparks flew as their metallic shells split apart, crashing to the ground in a shower of debris.
She flipped off the drone she had been riding, slicing it clean in half with a flick of her whip before landing effortlessly on her feet. The final drone met a similar fate as she darted toward it, her whip carving through its center like a blade through water.
She landed softly, tucking her weapon away as though the entire display had been effortless. As she adjusted her ponytail, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.
I was about to step out from behind the crate when movement caught my eye. More drones, at least six, emerged from the shadows, their weapons primed and ready.
"Look out!" I shouted, my voice breaking through the tension. My body moved on instinct, raising my pistol and firing. Two drones fell in quick succession, their circuitry fried by the blue rounds.
The woman turned, her sharp reflexes saving her as she dodged a laser shot with a nimble cartwheel. Her movements were impossibly fluid, like watching a gymnast in action. She glanced back at me briefly, her expression unreadable, before returning her focus to the new swarm of drones.
The warehouse grew louder, the hum of laser fire mingling with the mechanical whirring of the drones. My contacts flickered, analyzing the situation.
[Chances of survival: 20%.]
I swallowed hard, my grip tightening on the pistol. Despite the grim odds, I stepped forward, aiming for another drone. Just as I squeezed the trigger, the woman appeared beside me, grabbing my wrist.
"Not now!" she snapped, pulling me along as she broke into a sprint.
"What are you doing?" I shouted, stumbling to keep up.
"Our mission is done here. Don't be stupid. Run!"
She released my arm and darted toward the nearest exit, her movements swift and decisive. Behind us, the drones gave chase, their lasers lighting up the dark warehouse.
Cursing under my breath, I holstered my gun and followed her. My legs burned as I pushed myself to keep pace, the sound of drones closing in spurring me on. She glanced back once, her expression exasperated but focused.
We reached the heavy steel door, and she threw it open with a grunt. Bright moonlight spilled in, illuminating her determined face for the first time. For a brief moment, our eyes met, and I caught a flicker of something—respect, maybe?
But there was no time to dwell on it. The hum of drones grew louder, their relentless pursuit closing the gap.
"Move!" she barked, shoving me through the doorway.
As the door slammed shut behind us, the tension didn't fade. I looked back at her, breathless and shaken. She stood with her hands on her hips, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath.
"Next time," she said, her tone biting, "try not to get yourself killed."