Veil of the forsaken.

"If you're lying.."

The group moved through the labyrinthine hallways, the dim green lights above casting eerie shadows against the crumbling walls. Art led the way, his rifle held steady, with Mai-Lee at his side, her blade dripping faintly with the remnants of their previous encounter. Father Gonzales stayed close to the teenager, who clutched the backpack of stolen chemicals like his life depended on it.

"You need to keep quiet," Mai-Lee hissed over her shoulder, glancing back at the boy. "Your breathing is loud enough to give us all away."

The boy's face flushed, but he nodded, trying to steady himself. "Sorry," he whispered. "I'm just—"

"Nervous?" Art interrupted, his voice gruff. "Good. Fear keeps you sharp. Just don't let it make you stupid."

Father Gonzales shot Art a pointed look, his tone softer as he addressed the boy. "You have a name, child?"

"Andrew," the boy replied hesitantly, his voice barely audible over the creaks of the building.

"Andrew," Gonzales repeated with a nod. "Keep close to us, and we'll see you out of here. But you must be honest. What were you really doing in that lab?"

Andrew hesitated, his eyes darting to the glowing vials in his bag. "I told you," he stammered. "It's for my sister. She's sick, and the medicine we've been getting doesn't work. I thought... I thought maybe this would."

Mai-Lee snorted, her blade catching the faint light as she adjusted her grip. "You think you can just play doctor with stolen chemicals? You could kill her."

Andrew's hands tightened on the bag. "I don't have a choice! She's getting worse, and no one will help us. You don't understand!"

Mai-Lee stopped abruptly, turning to face him. "No, you don't understand. What you're carrying could be toxic or explosive for all you know. You're lucky we didn't leave you back there."

"Mai," Gonzales said warningly, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "Enough. The boy is desperate, not malicious."

Art motioned for them to move. "Argue later. We need to get to the exit before the patrols loop back. Let's go."

The group pressed on, the distant hum of machinery growing fainter as they approached a stairwell. Art gestured for silence as they climbed, the metal steps groaning under their weight.

As they neared the top, the faint sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway above. Art signaled for them to halt, peering around the corner. Two guards stood near the exit, their rifles slung casually over their shoulders.

"Two targets," Art murmured, glancing at Mai-Lee. "You take the one on the left. I'll handle the right."

Mai-Lee nodded, her expression grim. "On your mark."

Art counted down with hand signals, and they moved as one. Mai-Lee was a blur, her blade slicing through the air as she took down her target silently. Art's rifle spat a single suppressed shot, and the second guard crumpled to the floor.

Andrew's face was pale as he followed, his gaze lingering on the fallen guards. "Do you... do you always kill people so easily?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Art glanced back at him, his expression unreadable. "Only when we have to."

They reached the exit, the heavy steel doors leading to the outside world. Art pressed his ear to the door, listening for any signs of movement. "Clear," he muttered, motioning for the group to follow.

As the door creaked open, the cool night air rushed in, a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the facility. The group stepped out into the open, the faint glow of a distant city visible on the horizon.