The shriek of the alarm was a physical thing, a blade of sound that cut through the sterile quiet of the laboratory. Red lights pulsed across the white walls, painting everything in flashes of emergency. On the ceiling-mounted speakers, Commander Joric’s voice was a shard of ice, devoid of heat or panic. “Lockdown initiated. Sector Gamma-Seven. All units converge. Seal the exits.” They had seconds. The main blast door at the far end of the lab was already cycling shut with a heavy, pneumatic hiss.
Sineus ignored the pain still throbbing behind his eyes, a sharp echo from the Memorum chant that had blinded the tower’s systems. The metallic taste of blood lingered at the back of his throat. He moved toward the only viable exit: a massive, floor-to-ceiling pane of armored glass that formed the lab’s exterior wall, offering a panoramic view of the Dubai skyline glittering 320 meters below. Moreau was already there, the stolen Memorum alignment rod secured in a pouch on her tactical vest. Her objective was clear: escape. The obstacle was a sheer, vertical drop.
— The window, — Sineus said, his voice rough. It was not a question.
Moreau didn’t waste time on words. She pulled a small, adhesive charge from her belt, no bigger than a deck of cards, and pressed it to the center of the glass. Not an explosive, but a high-frequency resonator. She thumbed the detonator. There was no bang, only a high-pitched whine that lasted for a single, piercing second. A web of crystalline fractures spread from the device, and with a sound like a thousand chandeliers shattering at once, the entire pane of glass disintegrated into a cascade of harmless, sand-like particles that were whipped away by the wind.
They didn’t hesitate. Sineus threw a weighted anchor that clamped onto the steel superstructure above the window frame. He clipped his rappel gear to the line, the metallic click a small, satisfying sound against the wail of the alarm. He swung out into the abyss, the lights of the city a sprawling circuit board beneath him. Moreau was right behind him, her movements a study in fluid efficiency. The price of their escape was this total, terrifying exposure, two small figures against a monument of glass and steel.
The wind tore at them, a physical force trying to peel them from the building’s face. Below, the traffic on Sheikh Zayed Road was a silent river of red and white lights. They descended in controlled drops, their boots finding purchase on the slick glass skin. The alarm from the breached lab was a faint, angry pulse above them. They were out. They were not safe.
— Contact! — Moreau’s voice was sharp, cutting through the wind. — Above us!
Sineus looked up. Pouring over the edge of the roof, far above them, were Joric’s answer to their escape. They were not men. They were Axiom 'Cerberus' drones, quadrupedal pursuit units whose black composite chassis and hydraulic limbs moved with an unnatural, insect-like grace. They launched themselves from the roof and onto the vertical glass face, their magnetic claws finding purchase with a series of sharp, percussive clicks.
The drone-dogs began to descend, their movements impossibly fast. They were hunting. The sound of their metal claws scraping on the glass was a high-pitched, unnerving shriek that carried on the wind, a sound of predators closing in. Sineus clocked their speed. They were closing the gap at nearly five meters per second, twice the rate of their own controlled descent.
— They’re gaining, — he stated, his voice flat.
— I see them, — Moreau replied, her tone equally calm. She did not waste energy on fear. She was already calculating angles, trajectories, and options.
Sineus let out more line, dropping faster, the city lights blurring below. He could feel the faint weight of the small, gimbaled compass in his pocket, a solid piece of brass and truth in this vertical world of glass and howling wind. It was a comforting pressure, a reminder of a stable world that still existed somewhere beyond this hunt. The lead drone-dog was now only thirty meters above them, its optical sensors glowing a malevolent red.
Moreau stopped her descent. She braced her feet against the glass, leaning back into the harness with a soldier’s perfect balance. She drew her sidearm in a single, smooth motion. She wasn’t aiming for the drone’s armored body; that would be a waste of ammunition. She was aiming for the glass beneath it.
She fired once. The 9mm round struck the glass skin two meters below the lead drone’s forward claws. A spiderweb of cracks erupted from the point of impact. The drone’s programming couldn’t account for the sudden change in surface integrity. As its forward limb reached for its next hold, the compromised glass gave way. The drone’s magnetic claw lost its purchase. For a moment, it scrabbled, its other limbs scraping uselessly. Then it peeled away from the building and fell, tumbling end over end into the darkness, a silent, discarded piece of machinery.
One down. Three to go. The remaining drones adjusted their path, spreading out to make themselves harder targets. They did not slow.
— Move! — Moreau commanded, holstering her weapon and resuming her descent.
They dropped another fifty meters, the air growing warmer, thicker. Sineus spotted their target: a maintenance balcony on a lower, unoccupied floor, a small outcropping of steel and concrete in the sheer wall of glass. It was their only chance to get off this vertical battlefield.
They reached the balcony and swung in, their boots hitting the solid grating with a heavy clang. For a moment, the feeling of a stable floor beneath them was a luxury. Sineus unclipped from the line, his hands already moving to coil the rope. Every second counted.
He glanced up. The remaining drone-dogs had stopped their descent. They were clinging to the glass skin a hundred meters above, their red optical sensors swiveling as they processed the new situation. They were not giving up. They were re-routing.
The wind howled around the corner of the building, a low moan of air being forced through the canyons of the city. The distant hum of traffic was a constant, steady drone from the world below.
They were off the glass, but now the city itself was the trap.
