The guards moved fast, grabbing my teammates one by one like machines. Their hands were rough, grabbing tight—too tight. It was all happening too fast. Somehow, I was the only one they hadn’t caught yet.

  I didn’t know why. Maybe luck. Maybe timing. Either way, it gave me a shot.

  A tiny flicker of hope sparked in my chest—barely there, but enough. I didn’t have some crazy spell or advanced power like the others, but I had to try something.

  “Wait!” I shouted. My voice cut through the air like a slap.

  All the guards froze, tightening their grip on my friends. Their eyes snapped to me, sharp and cold. Rocke, the guy leading them, tilted his head and grinned like he’d already won.

  “Feeling guilty now?” he sneered. “Too late for that—”

  I didn’t wait.

  I pulled my wand and fired.

  A blast of blue light lit up the hallway and slammed straight into a guard’s head. He hit the ground hard, out cold.

  Malachi whistled under his breath. “Kinda wish you did that earlier.”

  My hand burned from the hit, but I pushed through it. No time.

  “Run!” September yelled.

  We bolted. Behind us, Rocke shouted, “YMPA agents on the move! Take them down!”

  Our footsteps echoed through the halls as we ran. The base felt like a maze—stone walls, endless doors, pipes overhead, flickering lights. It was cold, damp, and claustrophobic. Every hallway looked the same, like we were trapped in some loop.

  Malachi panted beside me. “We should split up!”

  “No! Stay together!” September snapped.

  “Where’s the exit?” Nikki asked, panic rising in her voice.

  I tried to remember how we got in. “Right, then left… then right again?”

  Malachi shot me a look. “That’s not helpful.”

  We pushed on anyway. The first room was empty. The second was full of dusty chairs and old tables. The third one stopped us cold.

  It was a ballroom. Like, an actual ballroom—fancy lights, polished floors, a stage with a podium. Granted, all of it was very dusty and looked rather brittle, and lights didn't even come from the chandeliers; they came from ceiling lights that must've been inserted later. It was clear this room was abandoned and barely even repurposed.

  Malachi groaned. “This is definitely not the way out.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Then—bam. Doors around the room burst open, guards pouring in from every direction. At least ten, probably more. Wands ready. We were surrounded.

  “Don’t move!” one of them yelled.

  “Oh no…” Nikki whispered.

  I froze. We all did. Trapped.

  “Anyone got a shield spell?” Malachi asked.

  Nothing but silence.

  Then I saw Tisiah.

  He looked around quickly, eyes darting, breathing heavy. And then—boom. He pulled out his wand and slashed through the air.

  A wall of fire exploded from it. Like, actual fire. It raced across the room, climbed the walls, devoured the curtains. Heat blasted my face, and I could hear the guards screaming over the crackling flames. The fire swallowed everything.

  Malachi coughed. “Move!”

  We ran. Through a side door, hearts pounding, smoke chasing us.

  The hallway we entered looked completely different—like a weird painting. Vines painted on the walls, soft lights, and a little fountain in the middle bubbling quietly. It smelled like flowers and fresh dirt, like someone had tried to make the place peaceful or something.

  We didn’t stop.

  “Which way?” September asked.

  Tisiah wiped his forehead. “Right?”

  “Left has stairs,” she said.

  Footsteps thundered behind us.

  “Right! Go!” Nikki yelled.

  We crashed through the next door—and froze again.

  Cars. A whole row of them. SUVs, sedans, even a couple armored trucks, all sitting under flickering lights. The air smelled like oil and rubber, the kind of scent you never forget. Dust covered everything, like no one had touched these cars in weeks.

  Malachi’s eyes lit up. “Finally, something useful.”

  Then—CRACK. Bullets and bolts tore through the wall like lightning. Metal screamed. Shards flew. The sound was deafening.

  “Down!” September shouted.

  We dove behind an SUV. Bullets slammed into the hood, ricocheting off the metal. Sparks flew. I hit the ground so fast I scraped my arm on the concrete. My heart felt like it was going to explode. I couldn’t tell if I was sweating or bleeding. Everything stung.

  Glass shattered overhead. I covered my head, bits raining down like sharp snow.

  “Over here!” I called, yanking a door open and sliding behind it. “Hurry!”

  The others scrambled toward me, slipping and tripping on the floor. Malachi basically dove through the back seat, knees smashing into the leather. Nikki followed, gasping, pulling herself inside. Tisiah tripped over the frame but managed to roll into the car like a sack of laundry.

  All of us were tangled and gasping, but there was no time to care.

  “Who’s driving?” Malachi asked, eyes wide.

  “Me,” September snapped, jumping into the front.

  The engine roared to life. “Hang on!”

  She floored it. The car shot forward and smashed through the giant garage door like a wrecking ball. Metal bent and screamed as we tore through it, the entire frame crumpling around us.

  We hit the road fast—ice and slush spraying everywhere.

  Behind us, flames shot into the sky. Smoke billowed. It looked like the whole building was burning.

  “They’re not gonna like that,” I muttered.

  Tisiah nodded. “Definitely not.”

  Then we heard them.

  Engines. Growling, roaring. Trucks and muscle cars burst through the smoke, headlights cutting through the night. They came at us fast, tires spinning, slush flying.

  “Oh, come on!” Nikki groaned.

  They were gaining on us—fast. Two big trucks flanked us, boxing us in. Their paint was pitch black, all chrome and menace. The smoke behind them made the scene look like a war zone.

  “Road sign!” Tisiah yelled.

  “What’s it say?” I asked, squinting.

  “Town ahead!”

  September tightened her grip on the wheel. “If we make it there, we can lose them.”

  One of the trucks slammed into our side. Hard. The whole SUV rocked. We skidded sideways, tires screaming, and my chest slammed into the seatbelt.

  “Jesus! They almost flipped us!” Malachi yelled, clutching his arm.

  The other car pulled back, then lunged forward again—bumping us like a predator toying with its meal.

  Headlights glared in the mirror. More cars closed in, boxing us tighter.

  “Open fire!” September yelled, eyes locked on the road.

  Malachi pulled his wand. He looked like he was about to climb out the window and go full action hero.

  And looking at him, at everything happening around us... hope was more of a talent than anything.