As Rowan staggered under X-24's relentless pressure, retreating step by step toward the bus, Laura had already reached it at a full sprint.
The four soldiers filming spotted her at once. Submachine guns came up, muzzle flashes strobing as they emptied magazines in her direction. Laura moved like an animal unchained, twisting, rolling, leaping through the fire. Most of the rounds missed anything vital. The rest tore into her flesh, pain flaring white-hot, but she didn't slow. She lunged straight into them.
This was the only world she had ever known. Killing wasn't a choice. It was muscle memory.
Above them, the sniper heard the commotion and felt his stomach drop. He abandoned his overwatch on Logan and swung the rifle down toward the bus.
Laura had just finished tearing down the second soldier when the shot hit her square in the chest.
The impact was monstrous. She was hurled backward like a broken doll, screaming as she slammed into the dirt. Before she could rise, the remaining two men rushed her, pinning her arms and legs with brute strength. She fought, snarled, thrashed—but she was still a child, and they were full-grown men.
The sniper steadied his breathing, sight settling on her head.
"Let's see you heal from this," he muttered.
"Now."
Rowan saw it. The distance. The timing.
He wrenched X-24's ankle sideways with everything he had. The clone stumbled, his killing blow tearing through empty air. Rowan didn't run this time.
He drew the pistol hidden against his chest and pressed it to X-24's temple.
"Game over."
The adamantium round fired.
X-24 dropped without a sound.
The sniper flinched at the gunshot and looked up just in time to see the clone collapse. His blood ran cold. He snapped the rifle back toward Rowan—
Only for the weapon to start shaking violently in his hands.
"What the—"
The rifle bucked and twisted, fighting him like a living thing. He fired anyway. Every shot missed.
Rowan sprinted in a sharp zigzag, pulling the rifle off-balance mid-run. When he crossed into pistol range, he raised his arm and fired twice.
Both men holding Laura fell instantly.
She tore free, claws punching into the bus's side as she climbed in a blur, hauling herself onto the roof and launching at the sniper with a feral scream.
"Commander! X-24 is down—X-23 is—"
The transmission cut off as Laura's claws punched through his chest.
Rowan arrived just in time to see her drag the body off the roof and let it hit the ground with a wet thud. He winced.
"All right," he said, crouching beside her. "It's over. I've got it from here."
He lifted her gently, then collected the fallen weapons—four submachine guns and the sniper rifle—and climbed into the driver's seat.
Laura slumped in the passenger seat, bloodied but breathing.
Rowan glanced at the rifle, admiration flickering in his eyes. "Much appreciated," he muttered. "I'll make good use of this."
The bus roared to life.
He drove straight for the factory.
At the edge of his range, Rowan smashed out the windshield, magnetically yanking the submachine guns forward and locking them in place. He opened fire.
Bullets curved through the air like hunting birds.
Inside the factory, Donald sneered down at Logan, who was on one knee, gasping.
"The boost is wearing off," Donald said coldly. "How long do you think you can last? Your backup's already finished. You'll all die together."
Before Logan could answer, the radio erupted with the sniper's broken report and dying scream.
Logan laughed—raw, fierce—and forced himself back to his feet.
"Sounds like you're the one running out of time."
A squad leader burst in, panic written all over his face. "Sir, the bus—our men can't stop it!"
Donald stared, then ground his teeth. "This isn't over. Fall back!"
He fled with what remained of his men.
The moment they were gone, Logan collapsed, finally out of strength.
The bus smashed through the factory doors and skidded to a halt in front of him. Rowan and Laura jumped down.
"You still breathing, Logan?" Rowan asked.
"Barely," Logan growled. "Twenty years ago, none of them would've escaped."
Charles emerged in his wheelchair, eyes bright despite his frailty. "Language," he said calmly. "But yes, Logan. You did well."
Rowan scanned the ruins once more. "We can't stay. Same plan. Split up and move."
Gabriela stepped forward, voice firm despite the chaos. "We've decided. We're not going to Canada. Professor's right. The timing is too tight—and it puts you at too much risk. We won't do that."
Rowan paused, surprised.
The road ahead had just changed again.