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The night was still, the moon casting a pale glow over the city as Jacques and Noah crouched behind a crumbling wall. The warehouse loomed ahead of them, its silhouette dark against the sky, with only a few flickering lanterns at its entrance. This was their target—a storage facility for Arnite ore, heavily guarded and essential for the rebellion's next move.

Noah shifted restlessly beside Jacques, his fingers tapping against the hilt of the small dagger he carried. "We should just rush them," he whispered, his voice barely contained. "Take them by surprise before they even know what's happening."

Jacques shot him a glance, his brow furrowed. "And get ourselves killed in the process? We need to be smart about this, Noah. If we alert the guards too soon, we're done for."

Noah's grin flashed in the darkness, though his eyes held a mix of impatience and excitement. "Yeah, but where's the fun in sneaking around? We've got the element of surprise. Let's use it."

Jacques shook his head, pulling out a small map of the warehouse layout. "The fun is in getting out alive. We follow the plan. We take out the outer guards quietly, slip inside, and grab what we need. If something goes wrong, then we adapt. But we're not charging in like lunatics."

Noah huffed but nodded, knowing better than to argue further. Despite his reckless nature, he trusted Jacques' judgment. Together, they moved in silence, creeping through the shadows toward the warehouse.

The first guard stood near the main entrance, leaning against a post, his posture relaxed and unaware of the two figures approaching from behind. Jacques signaled to Noah, who nodded and circled around the guard's blind side. Jacques crept up, his breath steady, and quickly covered the guard's mouth, pulling him into the shadows as Noah delivered a swift blow to the back of his head. The guard slumped to the ground, unconscious.

They dragged the guard behind a stack of crates, tying him up and gagging him to ensure he wouldn't raise the alarm when he woke.

"Piece of cake," Noah muttered, though the tension in his voice was evident.

They ventured deeper into the warehouse, keeping to the shadows. Every creak of the floorboards sent Jacques' heart racing. As they rounded a corner, a guard suddenly appeared, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Hey, who—" The guard's shout was cut off as Noah lunged forward, aura flaring around him in a faint shimmer. He moved fast, but the guard sidestepped, blowing a sharp whistle that echoed through the warehouse.

"Damn it," Jacques cursed under his breath. The clatter of boots filled the air as more guards rushed toward them. Jacques and Noah backed against the wall, weapons ready.

One of the approaching figures stood out—a large man with a grim expression and a palpable aura that made the air around him hum. His mark glowed faintly on his neck, a telltale sign of his awakened status. His eyes locked onto Noah, narrowing as he assessed the situation.

Noah braced himself, his aura flickering with intensity, but Jacques saw the doubt in his friend's eyes. The large guard stepped forward, and with a slow, deliberate movement, he raised his hand. The ground beneath their feet rumbled, and suddenly, the stone floor cracked open. From the fissures, jagged spikes of earth shot upward, forcing Noah to leap back, barely avoiding them.

The guard's lips curled into a cruel smile. "You think you can take this place? You're just children playing at war."

Noah's aura flared stronger as he rushed the guard, dodging the spikes that erupted around him. His strikes were quick, precise, but the guard met them with effortless blocks, his movements slow but deliberate. As Noah attacked, the guard's aura thickened, and with a twist of his wrist, more spikes shot up, catching Noah off guard. One spike grazed his leg, drawing blood and forcing him to stumble.