Keanu moved.
Fast—precise—decisive.
He closed the distance to the first hostile in three steps, redirecting the rifle as it fired. The round went wide. His elbow drove into the man’s throat, collapsing the airway in a brutal, efficient strike. The follow-up was immediate—knife in, twist, out.
He didn’t break stride.
Second target—mezzanine edge—leaning too far, overcommitted.
Keanu pivoted, drew, and fired once.
The man dropped.
“North side’s clear,” Kael’s voice came over comms, calm and precise. “You’ve got five seconds before reinforcements hit from the west corridor.”
“Make it ten,” Keanu said.
“Working on it.”
A detonation thumped somewhere deeper in the structure—controlled, contained.
“Huh,” Drew said, sounding surprised. “That actually worked. They are delayed.”
Keanu turned back to Rangi and Alexios. “Get in the fucking car. Now.”
Rangi hesitated half a heartbeat.
Alexios didn’t. He shoved off the rubble, teeth gritted, and stepped forward.
Keanu moved with him, catching his weight without comment, shifting it efficiently so the man could keep his feet.
“Don’t slow down,” Keanu said quietly.
Alexios huffed a breath that might have been a laugh. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
Rangi fell in on the other side, close enough to touch, not touching.
Trust. Keanu felt it.
Filed it away.
They moved as one unit toward the car. Another hostile broke through the dust to their right. Keanu didn’t even turn his head. He fired blind over his shoulder. The man dropped mid-stride.
“Show-off,” Luca muttered.
“Focus Breaker,” Keanu shot back.
They reached the Hellcat.
Heat pulsed off it in waves, the engine’s growl low and eager, like it understood the moment.
Keanu wrenched the passenger door open. “In.”
Alexios slid in first, movements tight but controlled. Rangi followed without question, twisting to keep eyes on the structure, on the threat, on everything that could still go wrong.
Keanu slammed the door and rounded the front in one smooth motion, sliding into the driver’s seat.
The world narrowed again.