Across the chasm, Commander Rostova stood motionless for a long moment, the only movement the wind whipping her short, severe hair. Leo's declaration hung in the air between the two rooftops—a desperate gambit couched in the language of the System. Party. Custodians. Terms. He hadn't just answered her; he had defined the playing field.
A low chuckle, amplified and slightly distorted by the drone's speaker, crackled across the gap. It was not a sound of mirth, but of dry, analytical appreciation.
"A party designation. A mission statement. Clever," Rostova's voice came, a fraction less icy than before. "You understand the importance of classification. This is a rare quality. Your terms are… unorthodox. But acceptable."
The pressure that had been building in Leo's chest eased almost imperceptibly. His bluff hadn't been called.
"We do not have time for a formal debriefing," Rostova continued, all business once more. "The structural decay of your position is accelerating. Prepare for immediate extraction. The drone will provide illumination."
As she spoke, the drone's single blue lens brightened, casting a steady, powerful beam of white light that cut through the gloom, illuminating the space between the two buildings. From the side of the VTOL, one of the Phoenix soldiers raised his rifle—it wasn't a weapon, but a deployment device. With a loud hiss-thump, he fired a grappling hook. The projectile trailed a thin, dark line as it soared across the chasm, its heavy-duty magnetic head slamming into the steel support structure of the helipad near their feet with a clang that vibrated through the concrete.
A second soldier attached the line to a powerful motorized winch on the VTOL. Within seconds, a heavy-duty zipline was pulled taut, a bridge of high-tensile cable spanning the hundred-foot drop. A second, thinner guide rope was sent across alongside it.
"The transport line is secure," Rostova announced. "Standard-issue Phoenix harnesses are rated for 500 kilograms. The winch is set for a controlled-speed retrieval. Attach and launch on my mark."
Maria was the first to move, her practicality overriding any fear. "You heard the lady. Let's get our asses in gear." She strode over to the small crate of supplies the drone had dropped alongside the grappling hook. Inside were several complex-looking climbing harnesses.
"I'll rig us up," she grunted, her experience with safety equipment immediately apparent. "No one's falling on my watch."
One by one, she helped them into the harnesses, her movements quick and sure, pulling straps tight, and double-checking the heavy-duty locking carabiners. Ben was trembling so hard he could barely stand still. Rick's face was a pale mask, but his grip on the sleeping Lily was unshakably firm. Sarah worked alongside Maria, her hands just as steady, her training in the high-pressure environment of an ER keeping her focused.
Leo's turn was last. As Maria tightened the final strap around his chest, she looked him in the eye. "Custodian, huh?" she said, a small, weary smile on her lips. "It's got a ring to it. Don't get us killed."
"That's the plan," Leo said. His mana was still dangerously low, the emptiness leaving him feeling fragile and exposed, but the trust of these people was a different kind of power.
"Rick, you and the kid go first," Leo ordered. "You're the most important package. Sarah, you're right behind him."
Rick nodded, took a deep, shuddering breath, and clipped his carabiner to the main zipline pulley. He held Lily tightly to his chest, closed his eyes, and with a push from Maria, launched himself into the abyss.
He didn't plummet. The winch on the far side engaged, pulling him across the chasm in a smooth, swift, and utterly terrifying glide. In seconds, he was on the other side, where the Phoenix guards efficiently unclipped him and guided him up the ramp into the VTOL.
Sarah went next, her face a stone mask of resolve. Then Ben, who let out a high-pitched yelp as he left the relative safety of the roof. Then Maria, who actually whooped with exhilaration as she slid across.
Leo was the last one standing on the crumbling rooftop. The island felt smaller now, the cracks wider. He looked back one last time at the ruin of Mercy General Hospital, a place that had been his singular focus for so long. It was a tomb of memories and monsters. He clipped his harness to the line.
Just as he was about to push off, he felt a prickle on his skin. His Sense Contamination skill flared weakly. He looked across at the main hospital building, at the row of dark, shattered windows on the third floor.
In one of them, a figure materialized from the shadows. Tall, thin, its form barely solid. Its single, weeping eye glowed with a faint but undeniable purple light. The Night-Stalker.
It wasn't attacking. It was just watching. It had seen everything. It had seen Lily taken from its grasp, seen its hunting ground destroyed, and now it was watching them leave. A low, mocking whisper crawled into Leo's mind, a parting shot from the darkness.
Run, little cleaner. Run to your new cage. I will not forget my stolen meal.
Then, it melted back into the shadows and was gone.
A cold dread settled in Leo's stomach. This wasn't over. They had escaped one predator only to mark themselves for another.
"Custodian Miller!" Rostova's voice barked from across the gap. "Your window is closing!"
Shaking off the creature's parting threat, Leo leaped from the edge, trusting his fate to the Phoenix Initiative's technology. As he glided across the open air, the city spinning dizzily below, he felt the roof of the West Wing finally give way behind him with a deep, final groan, a huge section of it peeling away and plummeting into the darkness. He had escaped just in time. He landed on the solid ramp of the VTOL, and strong hands guided him inside.
The ramp hissed shut, sealing them in. The thrum of the engines deepened, and with a lurch that pressed them all into their seats, the aircraft lifted off, leaving the dying hospital behind. They were safe. They were prisoners. They were assets. They were, for better or worse, employees.