As the train rumbled to a slow stop, Jace felt an eerie silence settle over the station. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered, barely illuminating the abandoned platform. The entire place was hidden inside a massive warehouse, its rusted steel beams and broken windows giving it an almost post-apocalyptic feel.
Stepping onto the platform, Jace adjusted his jacket, his sharp blue eyes scanning the dimly lit surroundings. The air smelled of dust, oil, and something metallic—blood, maybe. His instincts flared, and then, as expected, Providence spoke in his mind.
[Threats detected. Multiple hostiles converging on your position.]
Jace exhaled through his nose, calm and composed. He'd expected this. The moment he received that cryptic ticket, he knew someone was orchestrating all this. The Infinity Ledger? Another unknown faction? He'd find out soon enough.
A creaking noise came from the far end of the station, where an old cargo train lay derailed. Jace counted three distinct shadows moving in unison. Another group of footsteps echoed from the upper level, near the catwalks. At least five more.
Nine hostiles in total. Armed? Likely. Trained? That remained to be seen.
The closest three emerged first, clad in dark tactical gear, their faces obscured by masks. The lead one raised his hand in a silent signal, and the other two split apart, attempting to flank Jace. Rookie mistake.
Jace acted without hesitation.
He dashed forward, closing the distance before they could react. His right fist struck the first man's throat—clean, precise. The mercenary collapsed, gasping soundlessly as his airway closed.
Pivoting, Jace caught the second man's wrist as he reached for a sidearm. A quick twist, and the bones snapped. The gun fell, and Jace caught it midair, turning it on the third.
One shot. A clean bullet between the eyes. The man crumpled instantly.
Three down. Six to go.
A sharp whistle came from above. Jace moved instinctively, dodging left as a silenced round zipped past his head. Sniper. He looked up, his enhanced vision calculating angles and trajectories in milliseconds. There—upper right catwalk, second beam from the left.
Another shot rang out, but Jace was already moving. He fired a return shot mid-roll, striking the sniper's shoulder. The man let out a strangled cry before tumbling over the railing, landing with a sickening crunch.
The remaining five took cover behind crates and rusted machinery, barking orders at each other. Jace pressed against a concrete pillar, exhaling slowly. His mind was sharp, his movements precise, as if every battle was a carefully rehearsed dance.
[You have fifteen seconds before they reposition. Take advantage of the confusion,] Providence advised.
Jace smirked. He was already ahead of it.
Holstering the stolen handgun, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a compact flashbang. With a quick pull of the pin, he tossed it high over the crates.
A deafening explosion of light and sound followed. The momentary disorientation was all he needed.
Jace sprinted forward, weaving between obstacles as his opponents flailed in confusion. The first man he reached had barely turned before Jace's boot connected with his sternum, sending him crashing into a rusted metal beam. Another enemy raised his rifle, but Jace grabbed the barrel, redirecting the shot into a third assailant. A swift elbow to the jaw left the second man unconscious.
The last two tried to run. Jace didn't let them. Two precise shots. One through the knee, the other straight to the head.
Silence.
The warehouse station was littered with bodies. Jace reloaded, scanning for any remaining threats. When none presented themselves, he exhaled slowly.
[Threat neutralized. You have approximately three minutes before reinforcements arrive,] Providence informed him.
Jace didn't waste time. He moved toward the exit, his mind already analyzing his next move.
Whatever lay ahead, he was ready.