"We’re in position. Awaiting orders, sir. Over."


    Lorien’s grin widened, his yellowed canines glinting behind his pale upper lip. Around him, six figures crouched in the shadows, waiting. Not a word was spoken, only the weight of expectation hanging between them. He let the silence stretch, feeling the tension coil like a spring.


    "Let’s do this."


    They all knew what to do. No hesitation, no nerves—just purpose. Lorien lifted the ancient walkie-talkie to his mouth, barely above a whisper.


    "Now."


    The plaza remained still for half a second, as if the entire world had sucked in a breath. Then everything snapped loose at once.


    A suppressed shot sliced the air, and the guard in the security booth jerked back, a spray of dark mist smearing the inside of the glass. His body slumped forward, his temple a ruined mess, one hand still limply gripping his gun. At the same instant, Demi tapped Enter on his laptop. Every light across the Central Hub flickered and died. The surveillance feeds cut to black.


    For a brief, hopeful moment, the hum of backup generators rumbled to life. Then, just as quickly, they sputtered and went silent—cut down by Demi’s script faster than an investigation into Jeffrey Epstein’s client list.


    "Good work with that, Demi. I guess you’re not entirely useless," Lorien muttered, clapping him once on the shoulder before lifting the walkie again.


    "Go, go, go."


    The first wave of operatives emerged from underground, manhole covers scraping aside as they poured into the streets in disciplined silence. Boots hit pavement. No shouting, no wasted movement, just bodies moving like a black tide toward the service entrance. The glass from the security booth crunched underfoot as Lorien jogged past, sparing only a glance for the nearly headless corpse slumped over the desk.


    "Come on, charges—fast!" A hushed voice carried through the dark as they reached the main gate.


    One of the fighters was already on it, his fingers moving with practiced urgency as he fished a compact thermite charge from his pack and affixed it to the locking mechanism. Someone muttered an impatient command, but the demolitions expert barely spared them a glance.


    "Shut the fuck up, I’m moving as fast as I can. There."


    A blinding white-orange light flared to life, heat radiating outward in waves. The metal groaned, curling away from the core of the blaze, the acrid stench of scorched steel rising into the windless night. Within seconds, the locking mechanism failed, the last remnants of the hinges dripping molten slag onto the pavement.


    "Come on, come on," someone muttered, sweat beading on their brow.


    The moment the lock clattered to the ground, three men threw their weight against the heavy door. It screeched as it gave way, metal scraping against concrete before slamming open. The breach was instant. Black-clad figures surged inside, rifles low and ready, sweeping through the dimly lit loading dock with swift, machine-like precision.


    Lorien took in the space at a glance—a vast, high-ceilinged depot, its walls lined with industrial shelving. A yellow steel walkway stretched above them, leading to the freight elevator that connected to the underground conveyor network, the beating heart of the city’s supply chain. If they timed this right, the Brotherhood’s strike would bring the entire system to its knees.


    "You," Lorien snapped, pointing to a bulky figure. "Get the door back into position." He turned slightly, fixing his gaze on a leaner silhouette. "Assist him. Immediately."


    Then—movement in the dark. A sharp inhale. The scrape of metal on concrete.


    A gunshot exploded through the enclosed space, the bullet slicing past Lorien’s face so close he felt the heat sear the air. The pressure in his ear popped, the shockwave rattling through his skull. But before the shooter could take another breath, death answered.


    A loud whoosh carved through the air, as a half-meter of sharpened rebar blasted through the dark, slamming into the guard’s chest with a wet, crunching impact. Bone splintered like dry kindling. The sheer force tore him from the ground, lifting him into the air as the rebar punched clean through his ribcage, its jagged tip exploding from his back in a shower of blood, viscera, and shattered vertebrae.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    For half a second, he hung there, impaled mid-air, his mouth frozen in a silent scream. Then the weight of his own ruined body dragged him down, but the rebar held, wrenching him to a sickening stop just above the floor. His organs or rather. what was left of them hadn’t made the journey with him. A slick mess of shredded lung, pulped heart, and glistening strands of intestine slopped wetly onto the concrete below, the heat of his insides steaming in the cold air.


    The guards gun fell out of his limp hand onto the ground with a hollow clatter. His corpse twitched once, a final, pathetic reflex.


    Lorien didn’t hesitate as he hurried forward. His senses were razor-sharp, every nerve alight with survival. The stench of blood and burnt metal thickening the air. He grabbed the gun and looked to the others “No time to linger, bring the bags”


    His rebar-rifle was still warm, reassuring in his grip as he pressed forward, boots splashing through fresh blood. The Brotherhood moved in tight formation, shadows flickering against bare concrete walls.


    Moving down a service corridor towards the center of the complex, they reached a T-junction. The point man pressed against the wall, breathing steady, raising his pistol like contraption, that fired 5mm steel balls. He moved carefully, inching forward, revealing the corridor in small increments. His barrel tracked left, sweeping across dim service lights and exposed pipes, nothing seemed amiss.


    He shifted to the right. Another slow, methodical movement and peered down the corridor.


    The point man’s head snapped back, as a bullet blasted through his skull. a mist of crimson and brain spraying the wall behind. He collapsed, his contraption clattering as his body hit the floor.


    Lorien moved quickly to take point. Before the corpse had fully settled, he pointed the guards gun out from the wall and fired a couple of rounds blindly down the corridor. Bullets bouncing off the hard concrete surface, multiple finding their target. A scream of pain ran out. Lorien jumped sideways, laying in the middle of the corridor, as he turned on his flashlight, and fired another round into the light cone. The screaming instantly stopped and was replaced with a loud thump as the defender of the central hub crashed into the ground.


    "Clear," he called called out, but the moment was already over. They were moving again.


    Lorien stepped over the body, barely glancing down as he passed his half empty pistol to the first and best brother, and picked up a new.


    The Brotherhood surged forward. More corridors. More resistance. The deeper they pushed, the more desperate the defenders became. Some fired until they ran out of bullets, then dropped their weapons and begged. Others fought to the last, screaming incoherent defiance as they were gunned down. A few tried to hide, pressing themselves into dark corners, their breath trembling in their chests as they prayed to be overlooked.


    None of it mattered.


    The Brotherhood moved as one, sweeping through the hallways, their makeshift armory quickly replaced with advanced weaponry, their path marked by bullet casings, shattered glass, and blood-slicked floors.


    Then finally they reached the center of the hub.


    An elevator stood before them, pristine and untouched, a stark contrast to the destruction raging through the facility. The stainless steel reflecting the flashlights.


    "Get hacking, Demi!" Lorien barked, shoving the small gremlin of a man toward the control panel.


    Demi scrambled to work, yanking out an electric power tool and rapidly unscrewing the panel. Within seconds, he had a portable device wired into the system, his fingers flying across the interface, desperately trying to force the elevator to respond.


    "Nothing’s working, sir!" Demi whimpered.


    “What!” Lorien boomed. Only to let out a snort, realization dawning. "Oh, right!"


    Chuckling to himself, he smacked his forehead lightly, to cover his mistake in humor, he reached for his walkie-talkie.


    "Ey, Bee, turn the goddamn power back on for the elevators, then get the fuck over here double time, the ship’s sailing. Over"


    Barely five seconds passed before the hallway flickered to life, bathed in a soft white glow. Golden-framed paintings lined the walls, their elegant stillness at stark odds with the chaos unfolding.


    Lorien turned to Demi, grinning.


    "Sorry ‘bout that, Demi." His voice held a lazy chuckle, smooth and almost soothing, but his grin, Demi swore, was more unsettling than his usual scowl.


    Then, just as suddenly, the grin vanished, replaced by a furrowed snarl.


    "Now, pretty please," his voice dropped to a dangerous growl.


    "Get the fucking elevator running."


    With the power restored, it took only a few minutes to bring the elevator fully online.


    A soft ‘Pling’ broke the tension as the doors whisked open, just as Bee came bolting down the hall way “Brothers, we’re busted! They’ve sent everyone! Prepare the defenses, and hold them of for as long as you can.”


    He had only just finished his sentence, as an alarm started blaring out over the long hallway.


    Lorien quickly stepped inside the elevator, four other Brotherhood members including Bee following close behind, carrying large dufflebags. He slammed his fist against the button marked -10.


    Nothing happened.


    Lorien’s eyes shot lightning at Demi, his expression a brewing storm.


    "Don’t worry, boss, I got you!" Demi stammered, his voice barely audible over resounding alarm, frantically working the device. "Just needed the input from the button to unlock the command and bypass the security. Closing doors!"


    The elevator doors slid shut, sealing them in.


    Then, with a sudden lurch, the elevator rushed downward, plunging them into the depths of the city.


    “Hurry brothers, Get the suits on!”.