The air felt wrong.
Not tense.
Not heavy.
Calculated.
I felt it before anything happened—a subtle pressure crawling along my spine, like invisible eyes locking onto a target.
> 11:31:58
The countdown ticked forward with mechanical indifference.
He was still holding me, one arm around my shoulders, the other braced against the wall. His heartbeat was steady beneath my ear—solid, alive.
For now.
"You're shaking again," he said quietly.
"I know," I replied.
This time, I didn't bother lying.
The system's voice returned, smooth and emotionless.
> [Threat Vector Identified.]
Initiating environmental correction.
My stomach dropped.
"What does that mean?" I demanded internally.
No answer.
The lights flickered.
Then they went out completely.
Darkness swallowed the apartment.
He reacted instantly.
"Stay here," he said, shifting his weight, positioning himself between me and the hallway without hesitation.
I grabbed his sleeve. "Don't move."
The system chimed.
> [Host interference confirmed.]
The pain came—not sharp, but crushing, like invisible hands squeezing my chest.
I gasped, my grip tightening involuntarily.
He swore under his breath. "You're hurt."
"No," I forced out. "I'm—fine."
A lie.
But the pain didn't stop.
> [Environmental hazard escalating.]
A low hum filled the darkness.
Then a sound I recognized far too well.
Gas.
The realization hit me like ice water.
"No," I whispered. "You're flooding the building."
The system didn't deny it.
> [Fatal probability within acceptable range.]
My vision swam.
"This isn't a mission," I thought wildly. "This is execution."
He noticed the change immediately.
"You smell that?" he asked.
"Yes," I said hoarsely. "We have to leave. Now."
He didn't question me.
That, more than anything, terrified me.
He grabbed his phone, activating the flashlight, and pulled me toward the door.
The system screamed.
> [Violation.]
Unauthorized evacuation detected.
The pain intensified brutally. My knees buckled.
He caught me before I hit the floor.
"Enough," he snapped into the darkness, voice sharp and furious. "Whoever you are—stop it."
The words weren't meant for me.
The system stuttered.
> [Command ignored.]
Ignored.
That wasn't supposed to happen.
He lifted me into his arms without hesitation. "Hold on," he said.
The moment my feet left the floor, the system retaliated.
> [Penalty Escalation: Level Three.]
White-hot agony tore through my nerves. I screamed, clutching his shoulder as the world fractured around me.
"Put me down," I begged. "It'll stop if—"
"No," he growled. "I'm not bargaining with whatever's hurting you."
The hallway swayed as he moved, each step deliberate despite the chaos.
The smell of gas grew stronger.
Somewhere above us, something clicked.
A spark.
Time slowed.
> [Critical Event Triggered.]
I saw it then—
the system's plan.
Explosion.
Structural collapse.
Fatal state achieved.
And I was the leash holding him in place.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, tears blurring my vision. "This is my fault."
He didn't slow.
"It's not," he said flatly. "And I don't care."
The stairwell door burst open as he slammed into it shoulder-first.
Cold air rushed in.
The pain vanished.
Instantly.
I sucked in a ragged breath, stunned.
> [Environmental correction failed.]
The system's text glitched violently across my vision.
> [Recalculation required.]
Subject A-01 survival probability exceeding forecast.]
Behind us—
The explosion hit.
The force threw us forward, the shockwave ripping through the stairwell. He twisted mid-fall, turning his body instinctively to shield mine as we crashed hard onto the concrete landing below.
The world went white.
Then silent.
I came back coughing, lungs burning, ears ringing.
Dust filled the air.
He groaned softly beneath me.
My heart seized.
"Hey," I whispered desperately, pushing myself up. "Hey—talk to me."
His eyes fluttered open.
"Still here," he muttered. "That was… rude."
Relief hit me so hard I nearly sobbed.
> [Mission Status:]
Incomplete.
I stared at the message.
"Incomplete?" I whispered. "He's alive."
The system replied coldly.
> [Fatal state threshold not achieved.]
Anger flared, hot and reckless.
"You wanted him dead," I thought. "You didn't care how."
The system didn't deny it.
Instead, a new notification appeared—slower than usual.
> [Protocol Adjustment Initiated.]
Direct elimination ineffective.]
My blood ran cold.
He shifted beneath me, wincing as he sat up. "We need to get far away from here," he said. "Now."
I nodded numbly.
As we stumbled toward the exit, another message burned into my vision.
> [Next Phase Activated.]
If environment fails—use people.]
I froze mid-step.
People.
Not accidents.
Not systems.
Someone was coming.
And this time—
They wouldn't miss.