The corridor lights on the executive floor flickered as Neville sprinted through the passage. His footsteps muffled as the red emergency lighting bathed everything in an ominous crimson glow. It transformed the corridor into something out of a nightmare.
[Host, the control room has been taken over. The pilot crew is gone.] Shelly reported, understanding the gravity of the situation.
"Damn it." Neville cursed under his breath, pressing his back against the cold metal wall as he peered around the corner.
The intruders had not attempted to redirect the ship's course, hadn't made any demands, nor announced it. The navigation systems remained untouched, the communication arrays deliberately jammed rather than destroyed.
This didn't look like a normal hijacking.
They were after something. Something specific.
"They're after Grayson," Neville concluded.
Of course, they would go after the big boss. After all, Grayson had made a lot of enemies before and after the original timeline.
