The engines arrived like they had a schedule and were pleased to be on it.

  Two armored vans slid into view at opposite ends of the street, blocking cleanly. A third rolled up behind them, slower, precise, sealing the angle Cameron had been trying to ignore.

  No logos.

  No lights.

  Just mass.

  Tony adjusted his grip. “Ambulances have windows.”

  Arthur’s voice was thin. “Public agencies file paperwork.”

  The brace Cameron had forced into place below them creaked. Minutes left. Maybe less. Every second they stayed turned the hole into leverage.

  Lenny bounced once on his heels. The Gravity Boots lagged, then caught up with a judder.

  “My gear’s gaslighting me.”

  The side doors opened.

  Partway. Enough.

  A figure stepped down. Then another. Matte armor, jointed clean, built for movement. Visors down.

  Hands empty.

  Worse.

  A voice carried across the street, amplified but calm.

  “Unauthorized individuals. Step away from the infrastructure.”

  Tony barked a laugh. “Polite.”

  The staff vibrated in Cameron’s hands. Resisting now, like a compass needle pressed sideways.

  The second figure raised a hand.

  The streetlights dimmed in sequence. The air thinned, charged.

  Arthur’s tablet went dark. Rebooted. Displayed nothing.

  Arthur swallowed. “They’re isolating the layer.”

  Lenny squinted. “Which one?”

  “All the helpful ones.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  A woman from the crowd shouted, “Oi! You can’t just shut it off!”

  The figure didn’t move.

  “Clear the area,” the voice said. “This site has become unsafe.”

  People hesitated.

  One of the vans vented a low pulse into the pavement.

  A suggestion.

  Everyone stepped back at once. Bodies agreeing before brains caught up.

  Tony leaned close. “They want something else.”

  “Yeah,” Cameron said. “They want to end the example.”

  The brace groaned. Dust puffed up from the cavity.

  Cameron made the call.

  “Lenny. Eyes.”

  Lenny grinned. “Finally.”

  Three running steps. He kicked off the side of a bus shelter. The boots screamed, snapped him sideways, momentum bending illegal. He skimmed over the first van, slapped its roof, vaulted clear, landing behind the line.

  “Back route’s thin!” Lenny shouted. “The alleys are open!”

  One of the armored figures looked up. Tracked him.

  Missed.

  “Tony,” Cameron said. “Noise.”

  Tony asked nothing.

  The hammer swung into the asphalt, deeper this time, cracking through a utility channel that had been hiding. Steam and grit erupted. The street disappeared into a blinding plume.

  The armored figures moved instantly.

  Too instantly.

  They flowed through the cloud. Visors compensating. Steps perfectly spaced.

  Cameron ran straight at them.

  Choosing.

  He drove the staff down and twisted. The pressure he’d been holding back spilled. The pavement buckled sideways, refusing to stay flat.

  Two figures stumbled.

  One didn’t.

  Tony clocked it first.

  “Oi— that one didn’t even blink. Look at him. Brace face.”

  Arthur snapped, “That’s not—”

  The figure reached for Cameron.

  Too late.

  The grip closed on his sleeve.

  The lining screamed.

  Heat surged, then vanished, bled into something colder, denser. Cameron gasped. The staff’s vibration dropped to a dull ache.

  The figure leaned in. Voice unamplified now. Close enough to hear breathing.

  “You’re exceeding tolerance.”

  Cameron met the visor. Smiled without warmth.

  “So are you.”

  He slammed the staff into the knee.

  Precise.

  The joint locked. The figure went down on one side, controlled even in failure.

  Tony whooped. “Yes! Brace Face hates that joint!”

  Arthur was already pulling Cameron back, breath gone sharp.

  “We go. We go right now.”

  More figures moving. Faster. Adaptive.

  Lenny reappeared in a blur, grabbed Cameron by the collar, yanked him sideways as something snapped shut where he’d been a heartbeat earlier.

  “That was a net!” Lenny yelled. “An invisible one!”

  “Lovely,” Tony said, backing toward the alley. “They brought toys.”

  The staff tugged again. Harder. Directional.

  Containment.

  “Split,” Cameron said.

  Arthur stared. “You just said—”

  “I know,” Cameron said. “They changed the math.”

  They broke apart.

  Tony went left. Hammer carving a path through a shutter that screamed and gave way.

  Lenny went up. Boots shrieking as he took the wall and vanished into shadow.

  Arthur hesitated—just a fraction—then followed Cameron into the narrowest alley available.

  Behind them, the armored figures re-formed without speaking.

  Brace Face was already upright.

  No limp.

  Silence.

  Pursuit.

  The brace under the street gave way. A sound like a deep breath released.

  Something else failed with it.

  Somewhere nearby, glass shattered.

  Cameron ran. Lungs burning. Staff heavy in his hands.

  The city had finished watching.

  Now it was choosing sides.