The moment the last charge was set, Netoshka felt the hum—
that low, rising vibration in the metal around them, like the tunnels were holding their breath.
"Everyone MOVE!" she barked, grabbing Rue by the collar and dragging her as they sprinted.
Behind them, the Vitraspawns shrieked—wet, metallic, crawling sounds echoing through the dark. A dozen of them, maybe more, hurling themselves through the narrowing passage as the squad raced toward the extraction corridor lit faintly by Zev's flickering flashlight.
Twilla stumbled, but Genrihk lifted her by the arm without losing stride.
Taran covered the rear, rifle cracking sparks into the dark.
"THE CHARGES ARE PRIMED! ONE MINUTE!"
"Faster then!" Zopi yelled, breath thin.
They rounded the final corner—
and the freezing trap's console glowed faintly in the dark, wires exposed, coolant tanks rumbling.
Rue slid across the floor, jamming her hand into the panel.
"COME ON, COME ON—stay stable—" she muttered.
The console flickered.
The tunnel shook.
Something screeched behind them.
Netoshka didn't wait.
She slammed her glitching palm into the console—
systems warped, glitch-lines surged—and the freezing trap snapped to life with a violent surge.
The lights turned blue.
"GO!" Netoshka roared.
They ran.
A blast of arctic white erupted behind them—
a pressure wave of freezing coolant, EMP shock, and cryogenic mist exploding outward like a collapsing star.
The Vitraspawns never even screamed.
Their bodies froze mid-leap—
shattering into glassy fragments as the shockwave rolled through the tunnels.
Pipes burst.
Wiring snapped.
Entire walls frosted over in seconds.
Taran was nearly thrown by the impact but Netoshka caught him, pulling him through the exit hatch just as the freezing wall sealed the tunnel shut behind them. A final whump echoed like a heartbeat dying out.
Silence.
Just the cold wind of the surface brushing their faces as they stumbled out of the ruined maintenance doorway—
and into the early, foggy dawn of the forest outside.
Genrihk slammed the hatch shut.
"The tunnel's collapsed behind us. Nothing's getting through."
Rue exhaled, trembling.
"That… that EMP burst fried every signal in a mile radius. Team A won't hear us until we're clear."
"Then let's move," Netoshka said, brushing frost from her jacket. "Team A made it out first. The rendezvous is—"
Zev pointed.
Through the trees, faint smoke curled upward.
A wooden structure sat far ahead on a sloping hill—
a cabin with dim lights glowing inside.
"Cabin's southwest," Zev said.
"Looks like they made it."
Netoshka adjusted her rifle and stepped forward.
"Good. Then we regroup… and hear what Lucretia wants from us."
As they pushed through the clearing, snow crunching softly beneath their boots, the cabin door slowly opened—
and shapes emerged from inside.
Team A.
Bruised. Soot-covered. Exhausted.
But alive.
Ron waved them over.
"About damn time! Get inside. We've got… visitors."
Netoshka froze mid-step.
Not in fear—
but in recognition.
Inside the cabin…
DomiTech operatives waited.
Weapons lowered.
Expressionless helmets reflecting the light.
And one carried a sealed briefcase bearing the Director's insignia.
Lucretia hadn't just sent a message.
She sent a warning.