Page 193 of Fractured Loyalties

Volker ignores him, his focus fixed on me. “You could have been my successor. Instead, you cling to scraps—alliances that will betray you. That woman will betray you.”

Mara’s breath catches, but I don’t look back. “You don’t know her.”

“I know exactly what she is,” Volker says. “And I know exactly what you’ll do when she proves me right.”

The hum of the generators swells, as if the room itself is waiting for my choice.

I shift my aim a fraction higher, forcing Volker to meet my eyes. “You’ve been building toward this moment for too long to think I’d take your offer.”

“You will,” he says. “Because you’re tired, Elias. You’re bleeding. And she”—his gaze flicks to Mara—“is an anchor you can’t cut loose.”

Kinley moves to my flank, weapon trained on the nearest guard. Lydia shifts closer too, pressing our captive forward as a shield, her free hand on the pistol at her hip. Mara hasn’t moved from my back, her fingers still gripping my belt.

“Last chance,” I tell Volker.

He smiles. “It’s mine.”

A soft click echoes—his signal. From the upper platforms, more shapes emerge, rifles glinting in the industrial light.

Mara tenses. Kinley swears under his breath. Lydia steadies herself, eyes locked on the nearest threat.

Volker spreads his hands. “Now we find out if you’re as fast as they say.”

The air is suddenly heavier, the chamber charged with the promise of violence. Every heartbeat is a countdown. My finger tightens on the trigger.

I see the first rifle twitch, the minute shift that means he’s about to fire. “Down!” I bark.

Kinley drops to one knee and fires, the report deafening against the steel. Lydia shoves our captive aside and shoots the guard nearest to Volker. Mara flattens herself behind me as I pull the trigger, my bullet striking the platform rail inches from Volker’s shoulder.

Chaos detonates. Gunfire cracks from every tier. Sparks rain down from a ricochet above us. I drag Mara toward the nearest support pillar, shielding her from the crossfire. Kinley pushes Jori ahead of him toward cover. Lydia is already moving to flank, her weapon snapping with controlled bursts.

Volker’s voice cuts through the noise. “Bring them down!”

We’re pinned. For a moment, the heat from the turbines is drowned out by the heat of the fight itself—raw, immediate, and choking. I lean around the pillar, fire twice, and drop one of the upper-level shooters. Kinley nails another before they can reload.

But there are too many.

I grab Mara’s wrist. “We move on my mark.” She nods, eyes locked on mine, trusting me with a fear that coils tight in my chest.

“One,” I say, then fire again. “Two.”

“Three!”

On three, I shove Mara ahead, keeping my body between hers and the hail of rounds screaming past us. Kinley hauls Jori forward, Lydia covering our backs with surgical precision. Her shots pick off anyone who leans too far from their platform for a clean angle.

We weave through the jungle of steel supports, using the machinery’s bulk as intermittent cover. Our captive is long forgotten as we make our way out of this situation.

Volker’s forces shout orders over the gunfire, their footsteps pounding the grated catwalks above. The turbine’s roar mixes with the smell of burning oil and the metallic tang of hot brass shells littering the floor.

Volker’s still on the far side, watching us push forward with that infuriating composure, not even flinching as bullets tear the air. “You won’t make it out!” he calls. “Every exit ends where I stand.”

I don’t give him the satisfaction of a reply. Instead, I angle us toward a maintenance stair spiraling up along the chamberwall. It’s a choke point, but it leads to an overhead walkway where the fire is thinner.

“Up!” I order. Kinley goes first with Jori, Mara follows tight behind, and Lydia takes rear guard. I stay at the bottom until Mara’s clear, then back up the steps, firing in bursts to keep heads down.

We reach the walkway, the height giving us a moment’s reprieve. But Volker’s men are already repositioning. Lydia’s jaw tightens as she leans over the rail, sending three shots into a knot of them pushing toward the stairs.

Volker’s voice rises again, closer now, echoing off the walls. “Eidolon, you can’t outrun this. Bring her to me, and I’ll let the others walk.”