Chapter 150: Run, Fox, Run

The fire sprites erupted into a blazing swarm, their tiny forms streaking through the air like living fireworks.

The chamber transformed into an inferno of chaos.

Guards scattered, shouting contradictory orders as superheated air seared their lungs.

"Containment breach!"

"Get the suppressors!"

"Where the hell did he go?"

Overhead sprinklers hissed to life, sending torrents of water cascading down.

Steam billowed as droplets met sprite fire, filling the chamber with choking clouds.

Kane pressed himself against the wall, using the smoke as cover. The baton felt slick in his sweaty grip, the keycard’s edge cutting into his palm.

Behind the chaos, he caught glimpses of freed spirits fleeing—the deer spirit vaulting over fallen guards, the owl spirit’s wings beating frantically toward an air vent.

But others weren’t so lucky. The wounded rabbit spirit stumbled into a guard’s arms, crying out as containment cuffs snapped around his wrists.

Kane’s chest tightened, his instincts screaming at him to help. But now he could only focus on one thing.

Find a way out.

He forced himself to turn away, sliding along the wall toward the emergency exit. A fire sprite zipped past his ear, trailing sparks that singed his hair.

The exit door’s red light beckoned through the smoke.

Kane slipped through the emergency exit into a cramped laboratory, his heart hammering against his ribs.

The acrid smell of chemicals and something far worse hit him immediately.

Containment pods lined the walls like coffins, each filled with murky suspension fluid.

Inside, spirits floated in various stages of horrific transformation—a dove spirit with synthetic wings grafted to her shoulders, a bear spirit whose limbs had been replaced with mechanical appendages that twitched uselessly.

Their eyes followed Kane’s movement, pleading silently through the glass.

Kane’s stomach lurched. These weren’t just experiments—they were torture chambers.

Move. Evidence first, emotions later.

He spotted a terminal on the far wall, its screen displaying data streams about "Project Chimera." Kane grabbed a flash drive from the cluttered desk and jammed it into the port.

The download bar crawled across the screen. Fifteen percent. Twenty.

Footsteps thundered in the corridor outside.

"He’s in lab twelve!"

Thirty percent. Forty.

Kane’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, downloading everything—test results, shipping manifests, financial records.

The door handle rattled.

Sixty percent.

Kane’s eyes swept the lab, landing on a shelf of chemical vials. He snatched one labeled "VOLATILIZER-7" just as the download hit completion.

Eighty percent. Ninety.

The door burst open.

Kane yanked the flash drive free and hurled the vial at the floor.

Glass shattered, releasing a cloud of acrid smoke that sent the guards stumbling backward, coughing and cursing.

Kane bolted past them into the corridor, clutching the drive like a lifeline.

The chemical smoke from the lab clung to his clothes, making his eyes water.

Behind him, boots pounded against concrete, voices barking orders through radio static.

A steel door marked "EMERGENCY STAIRWELL" appeared ahead like salvation.

Kane slammed his stolen keycard against the reader. Red light. His heart stopped.

He tried again, hands shaking. The reader beeped green.

The heavy door swung open, revealing concrete steps ascending into darkness. Kane took them three at a time, his legs screaming in protest.

Up and up he climbed, each floor bringing him closer to something that felt impossible—escape.

The stairwell echoed with his gasping breaths and the distant wail of alarms below.

At the top, another door. Another swipe of the keycard.

The lock disengaged with a satisfying click.

Kane pushed through the last barrier and stumbled onto the rooftop.

Cool night air hit his face, washing away the stench of chemicals and desperation. He gulped it greedily, feeling oxygen flood his starved lungs.

Above him, stars pierced through the city’s smog, tiny pinpricks of hope in the darkness.

Kane almost laughed, the sound catching in his throat like a sob.

All of a sudden, a massive shadow slammed into Kane before he could take another step.

His body hit the rooftop with bone-jarring force, concrete scraping against his back as the wind exploded from his lungs.

A clawed hand pressed against his chest, pinning him down.

Kane gasped, struggling to breathe as those razor-sharp tips dug through his shirt, drawing thin lines of blood.

Elias loomed over him, half-shifted into something between man and beast.

His amber eyes blazed with satisfaction, pupils dilated in the darkness. Coarse hair sprouted along his jawline, and his canines had elongated into gleaming points.

"Did you really think you could just walk away?"

Elias’s voice carried a growl that vibrated through Kane’s chest.

Movement flickered in Kane’s peripheral vision.

Wolves materialized from the shadows—sleek, powerful forms with eyes that reflected the distant city lights like scattered coins.

They fanned out in a loose circle, cutting off every escape route.

Kane’s hand tightened around the flash drive, fighting the urge to look down at it.

"You’ve caused quite a bit of trouble tonight, little fox."

Elias gestured with a casual flick of his wrist.

The wolves surged forward; rough hands seized Kane’s arms, hauling him upright with enough force to wrench his shoulders.

The stolen baton clattered against concrete, spinning away into the darkness.

Kane’s legs wobbled beneath him, the adrenaline crash hitting hard. The flash drive burned against his palm where he’d managed to conceal it.

"Back to containment, then?" Kane forced the words out through gritted teeth, trying to buy time.

Elias’s laugh was all wolf—a sound that raised every instinct Kane had ever ignored.

"Oh, I’m not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice."

Those amber eyes glittered with something far worse than anger. Anticipation.

"You’ve seen too much. Learned too much."

Elias stepped closer, his presence suffocating in the confined space of the rooftop.

"Take him to the lab."

Kane’s blood turned to ice. The laboratory. The pods. The twisted forms floating in suspension.

"I want to know exactly how much a fox can endure before he breaks."

The wolves’ grips tightened, beginning to drag Kane toward the stairwell.

Terror clawed at his throat, but Kane forced himself to stay calm.

Cyrus will come.

He had to.