I've performed on this stage dozens of times. Know every inch of it. Know where the hidden panels are, where the emergency releases are located, where the automated systems can be triggered if you know the right codes.
Did they not think about that?
Did they assume the crazy Omega wouldn't notice the tactical advantage?
The leader reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small container—glass, filled with something clear, the kind of vial you see in movies when someone's about to be dramatically poisoned.
He holds it up, letting the stage lights catch the liquid inside.
"One drink of this," he says, voice flat with satisfaction, "and you'll be dead in less than an hour."
I frown.
"Damn. Only?"
I can see his eye twitch.
The reaction is subtle but visible—a crack in his composure that tells me I'm getting under his skin.Good.Angry people make mistakes. Frustrated people get sloppy.
I give him my best nervous smile—the one that makes people think I'm harmless even when I'm calculating exactly how to kill them.
"So what do I have to do to avoid this ultimate doom?"
"Shut up."
I giggle.
Can't help it.
The sound bubbles up from somewhere unhinged, high and bright and completely inappropriate.
"Finally said something intelligent," the leader mutters.
"Thank you!" The giggle turns manic. "But I'm far smarter and feeling suicidal again because all of this shit is boring as fuck?—"
His hand wraps around my throat.
Fast.
Too fast for me to react.
The pressure is immediate—not enough to cut off air completely, but enough to make breathing difficult. His fingers dig into the soft tissue beneath my jaw, tilting my head back at an angle that exposes my throat.
Vulnerable.
Prey.
With his other hand, he spins the lid off the vial.
The liquid inside is odorless—I can't smell anything over the adrenaline flooding my system—but I can see it. Clear. Viscous. Probably tasteless, the way the most effective poisons always are.
He forces it against my lips.
I try to turn my head, try to resist, but his grip is too strong and the angle is wrong and?—
The liquid pours into my mouth.
Cold.
