The rest followed, the rhythm picking back up like it had never broken.
They didn’t slow coming off the landing.
Law took the turn without checking, cutting down the corridor like the direction had already been decided, the rest of them falling in behind him without a word, the weight of the group settling in behind the movement instead of dragging it.
“Feels like we’re finally getting somewhere,” Memphis muttered.
“About time,” Rip said from somewhere behind them, voice flat, steady.
Law didn’t look back. He didn’t need to. The space had changed—not quieter, not safer, just wrong in a way that settled under the skin, the kind of stillness that came after movement stopped and didn’t start again.
Boston dropped out of the dark ahead of them, coming off the side corridor like he’d been perched there the whole time, blade already in hand.
“You’re late,” he said, flashing a quick grin that didn’t touch his eyes.
“Keep moving,” Law said.
Boston fell in without argument.
“Left side’s clear,” Rip added. “Nothing but bodies and bad decisions.”
“Sounds like our kind of night,” Sage muttered.
“You betcha,” Boston said, an edge of excitement.
Law’s gaze tracked the hall ahead—doors closed now, no movement bleeding through the seams, no sound beyond the echo of their own steps stretching out ahead of them and coming back thin.
“Something’s off,” Mac said.
“Yeah,” Sage said quietly. “It is.”
Movement hit at the far end—fast enough to catch the eye before it fully resolved.
Frost.
Seth on him.
They cut straight toward them, no hesitation, no break in stride.
“We found his hidey-hole,” Frost said.
That was it. No buildup, no wasted words. Syx snorted, choking back a laugh.
Seth jerked his chin down the hall with a slight smile. “End of the run. Last room on the left.”
“Figures,” Sage muttered.
“How many?” Law asked.
“Enough to make it interesting,” Frost said, grin sharp. “Not enough to matter.”
“Good,” Black said flatly.
Law didn’t slow, didn’t shift, just let the direction settle into place and moved with it.
“Take it,” he said.
The team adjusted without needing the rest spelled out—angles shifting, spacing tightening, bodies sliding into position as they closed the distance without stacking or calling it.
