As the guards closed in on us, we backed away quickly, trying to avoid capture for as long as we could. But one of them grabbed my hand, and before I could react, they locked it in a tight metal cuff, freezing my arm in place.

  “Heh, so you got us,” I said with a forced grin. “But we’re just going to escape again anyway.”

  Honestly, I wasn’t sure we would. Still, I had to sound confident, to show even a flicker of defiance. I wanted them to think we still had a chance. “You’re not going to a cell,” one of the guards replied, almost mockingly.

  What did that mean?

  Then, out of nowhere, a guard pulled out his wand and fired a blast—not at us, but at another guard. The blast hit with such force it sent the target flying into the wall.

  The rest of the guards stared at him in shock. Then, one by one, they reached for their wands.

  The one who had attacked pulled off his helmet—or rather, her helmet. I blinked. It was September. My eyes widened with disbelief as relief swept over me like a wave.

  Then four more guards removed their helmets, revealing themselves to be part of my team. Confusion and hope twisted together in my chest like a storm. We’d infiltrated their ranks deeper than I thought.

  Across the room, Demeitrus Rocke stared in horror. His face twisted in outrage and disbelief. “Get these impostors out of here!” he barked.

  The remaining guards rushed at us, wands swinging. September deflected one attack with a swift motion, then grabbed the attacker’s arms and shoved him to the ground.

  I spun around and saw Dr. Jones chained to a bizarre metal chair. His face was pale, eyes wide with fear. I sprinted over, determined to free him.

  But I had no idea what kind of chair this was—or how to unlock it.

  I examined it, looking for buttons or switches that might release the chains. Nothing responded. I tried shifting the chair, but it didn’t budge. That’s when I noticed two large rings on either side.

  I gripped one and pulled. It shifted slightly, but not enough. I pulled the other—same result. It was no use. My strength alone wasn’t enough.

  Looking around in desperation, I spotted a stone statue. I grabbed it and hurled it at the chains. It smashed into them—and bounced off, completely ineffective.

  There was only one thing left to try.

  I summoned the energy of my Perk. Power surged through me, lightning flickering in my veins, which began to glow a vivid red. I clenched my fist and slammed it into the chair.

  Electricity burst through the metal. The chains shattered. The chair toppled to the floor.

  I turned to Dr. Jones and pulled off the last restraints. He stood shakily, brushing dust from his clothes.

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  “Thank you,” he said, clearly uncomfortable.

  I gave him a small, weak smile. I didn’t feel like smiling at all. But we had no time to lose.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here!” I shouted to the others.

  They followed without hesitation, dodging the remaining guards and hurrying toward the hidden staircase. We bolted up the steps, out into the long, glowing orange hallways.

  Behind us, footsteps pounded. The guards were chasing us.

  We burst through the exit, into the night air. The wind hit us like a slap, but we were finally out. We were safe—for now.

  “Use your portal!” I called to Mr. Drails.

  He raised his wand and summoned a portal. In an instant, we stepped through, arriving back at the YMPA headquarters. A collective breath of relief escaped us as we realized we’d made it.

  Mr. Drails took a moment to catch his breath, then turned to Dr. Jones. “My agents will find a secure place to hide you. Don’t worry—they’re good at what they do.”

  A flicker of pride rose in me. I stood straighter, letting my expression grow more focused, more serious.

  Dr. Jones nodded weakly, still shaken. His legs trembled, and his hands were visibly shaking.

  “Don’t worry. Just stick with us,” September said gently.

  Truthfully, I didn’t know where we were going to take him. I didn’t even know if this was going to be his permanent safehouse. It was all uncertain.

  But for now, I figured it was best to keep him at YMPA—at least overnight.

  We followed September through the building and out the front doors.

  The night wind whipped at my face. I pulled my jacket tighter as we walked along the street, scanning for a place to hide Dr. Jones.

  Then Malachi asked, “So… how exactly did the TSA find you, Dr. Jones?”

  Dr. Jones looked confused. “How I got found? It’s kind of a dramatic story,” he replied.

  “Oh, I bet it is,” I said with a smirk.

  Dr. Jones took a breath, speaking in a quiet tone. “It started when I was at the airport, standing in line to board a flight. I was heading to England to visit an old colleague—we were working on the Armonk together. While I was waiting, I heard someone talking behind me. I turned to look, but saw no one. Then suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my back. I looked up—and saw a woman holding a wand at me.”

  “Whoa,” I said, glancing at the others. “That sounds painful.”

  He cleared his throat. “I woke up on a plane—but not a regular one. It was a cargo plane, being used as a prison.”

  September’s brow furrowed. “A prison? For who?”

  “I’m still not sure,” he said, scratching his head. “There were a few others in there, all tied up. My clothes were torn, and I had burns on my arms. Whoever put me there… I think they were trying to break me.”

  “Who did it?” Tisiah asked.

  “The man you all call Demeitrus Rocke,” he replied.

  Malachi chuckled dryly. “Not surprising.”

  Dr. Jones brushed dust off his coat. “He never introduced himself, but I assume it was him.”

  “He set you up?” I asked.

  “Two weeks before, I got a call from a blocked number. They told me I’d been discovered and to meet them at a bar. I asked which one, they gave me the name, and I went. When I arrived, a man in a black suit greeted me.”

  “He offered me water—since I don’t drink—and told me he wanted to verify who I was.”

  “Verify for what?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. He kept asking about the location of a machine. I didn’t understand any of it, but he was clearly suspicious.”

  “What happened next?” September asked.

  “Nothing… not until I flew to England. That’s when I was grabbed. The next thing I knew, I was being moved from place to place—houses, buildings, always in chains. Eventually, I ended up at that underground base where you found me.”

  He paused, eyes drifting over us. “But enough about me. What about all of you?”

  “Honestly, we don’t have much to say,” I replied, and the others nodded in agreement.

  Just then, we came across an old hotel down the street. It looked abandoned—walls stained with mold, windows cracked and dusty.

  “This seem like a good place?” September asked, turning to me.

  “Are you serious?” Nikki snapped. “Might as well throw him in a gas chamber!”

  September sighed, clearly exhausted.

  “I’m just saying—it’s the perfect place to hide. No one’s going to come looking here.”

  Malachi studied the building. “Fine by me. But I think Dr. Jones should decide.”

  We all looked to him. He mumbled something under his breath, then sighed deeply. “I doubt we’ll find anything better,” he said, nodding toward the hotel.