The laboratory was a tomb of shattered glass and rusted metal. While the rest of us kept our weapons leveled at the dark corners, Aaron bolted toward a central desk. He didn't just grab the weapon schematics; he began frantically shoving extra papers into his bag—thick, yellowed pages covered in those same jagged symbols I'd seen him drawing in his room. These weren't designs for guns. They looked like anatomy charts.
"Aaron, focus! We don't have time for light reading," Maverick hissed.
"It's important, Mav! Just shut up and cover me!" Aaron yelled back, his voice trembling with a desperate kind of fear.
Suddenly, the shadows on the far wall didn't just move—they detached. A pale, multi-limbed creature that had been camouflaged against the concrete lunged with a guttural shriek. It went straight for Maverick, its claws swiping at his throat.
"Mav!" I screamed, raising my rifle.
The room erupted into chaos. Maya's arrows whistled through the air, and Aaron fired a shaky pulse from his emitter, the blue light blinding us for a split second. Maverick was on the ground, kicking the beast off him while cursing at the top of his lungs. We all fought, desperate and panicked, finally putting the creature down in a heap of gray flesh.
But in the middle of the carnage, I looked back.
Leon wasn't fighting. He was standing by the door, completely still. He wasn't scared. He wasn't joking. He was watching us with a terrifying, predatory focus, his head tilted to the side. He was analyzing our moves,seeing how Maya pivoted, how Maverick swung his knife, how I hesitated before firing. He looked like a general studying an enemy's weaknesses.
The moment the creature died, Leon snapped back into "character."
"Whoa! That was intense!" he chirped, wiping fake sweat from his forehead. "Mav, you almost got a free haircut! We should probably get out of here before its big brother shows up, right?"
"Grab the tech and move," Maya ordered, her voice tight. She didn't see the way Leon's eyes lingered on her jugular for a second too long.
***
The trip back through the Dead Zone was a blur of adrenaline and ash. The "uglies" were everywhere, drawn to the sound of our fight. We had to break into a full sprint, Aaron clutching his bag of secrets to his chest like a shield.
Every time a creature got close, Leon would "clumsily" swing his pipe, missing just enough so that Maverick or I had to take the kill. He was hiding his strength, playing the fool while the rest of us exhausted ourselves.
By the time we reached the iron gates of the Stronghold, we were all gasping for air, covered in soot and black ichor. The gates groaned open, and we collapsed into the safety of the courtyard.
"We made it," Maverick wheezed, leaning on his knees. "We actually made it."
"Of course we did!" Leon laughed, slapping me on the back with a hand that felt abnormally cold. "The Midgets never fail! Now, who's ready for some dinner?"
As they headed inside, I stayed back for a moment, watching Leon's shadow. It didn't look like a boy. It looked like a monster. And for the first time, I realized that the light bulb hadn't just lost its light.
It was already shattered. We were just waiting for the glass to fall.