Chapter 23

  The night hums with static, the weight of what we’re about to do pressing against my ribs. We’ve rehearsed this. Every step. Every contingency. But theory and reality are never the same.

  The facility looms in front of us, metal and glass, sleek and impenetrable. The kind of place that was designed for people like us never to set foot inside. But tonight, we change that.

  Nora is next to me, her face unreadable in the glow of the terminal as she works to override the security cameras. She’s fast, hands moving with precision. The screen flickers, one feed after another falling under our control. The electrical sensors, the motion detectors - they all begin to fail, one by one. The defenses are dropping, just like we planned.

  “We’re in,” she whispers, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

  We move quickly, slipping through the side entrance, stepping over the automated defenses that are now little more than inactive husks. The hallways stretch out before us, sterile, metallic, empty. It’s eerie, walking through a place so secure and knowing it’s defenseless now.

  Nora leads the way. She knows the layout, knows the blind spots, the access tunnels, the weak points. It was her company once. She spent years working in this labyrinth. Now she’s tearing it apart.

  We weave through corridors, past reinforced glass, through doors that should’ve been locked but now click open at her command. We’re getting closer to the server room. I can feel it.

  Then something changes.

  A red light blinks to life.

  “Shit,” she mutters. “They know we’re here.”

  I don’t ask how. I already know.

  A drone hums overhead, its spotlight cutting through the darkness. I raise my gun and fire. One shot, two, three. I miss every time. The drone weaves through the air, scanning, tracking. It’s fast, too fast.

  Then, the sound I was dreading.

  A growl. Low, mechanical. Wrong.

  The clank of metal against concrete.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  And then it appears.

  A nightmare forged in steel and circuitry. A robotic dog rounds the corner, moving with an unnatural, fluid grace, as though it were less a machine and more a beast of legend.

  It is massive - at least three feet at the shoulder—its frame sleek and predatory, armored plates covering its body like the segmented carapace of some prehistoric creature. Its body – steel and titanium, but its brain is that of a dog, trained to hunt and kill.

  This is a modern version of the Hound of the Baskervilles, a creature of legend reborn in steel and algorithms, programmed not to haunt the foggy moors but to hunt down intruders with ruthless precision.

  Then I see it, printed on its forehead in stark white letters: Cerberus.

  The thing launches forward, faster than I expect. I barely have time to react before it slams into me, metal teeth snapping inches from my leg. It’s heavier than I imagined, its joints hissing as it adjusts its grip.

  I fire. Empty the clip.

  Nothing.

  It doesn’t even slow down.

  I stumble back, trying to keep my balance as it lunges again. Its teeth clamp onto my boot, yanking me downward. I hit the floor hard, my vision blurring for a second.

  I kick at it, try to shake it off, but it won’t let go. It’s dragging me, its grip tightening. My boot begins to tear, the pressure unbearable. I don’t know what to do.

  Nora is shouting something, but it’s distant, drowned out by the ringing in my ears.

  Then, Eurika, an idea.

  I grip the gun tighter, hesitate just a second, then throw it - hard.

  “Fetch!”

  Cerberus stops.

  The machine twitches, as if hesitating. Then, unbelievably, it turns, bolts after the gun, its heavy frame making the ground tremble beneath us. It snatches the gun in its metal jaws and brings it back, sitting like a dog waiting for praise.

  I blink. What the hell?

  Nora stares at me, incredulous.

  Her steps slow, hesitant, as she backs away from Cerberus. The beast doesn’t lunge, doesn’t attack, but its glowing red eyes track her every movement, reading her, calculating. She presses herself against the doors, her breath coming in shallow gasps, not daring to turn her back on the creature. She isn’t looking for a way out - she’s simply trying to keep her distance, trying to stay as far from Cerberus as possible.

  Then, suddenly, the doors slide open not by her doing, but by something - or someone - else. She gasps, startled, her balance lost as she stumbles backward into the darkness. The airlock swallows her whole before she even realizes what's happening.

  I start to follow, but Cerberus still watches me, tail wagging in eerie anticipation. I hesitate, then grab the gun and throw it one last time, just to be sure.

  Cerberus springs forward, bounding after it.

  I grin, shaking my head. “Unbelievable.”

  Then—a sharp whirring. The doors start to close.

  “Danny!” Nora’s voice snaps me out of it.

  I turn just in time to see the airlock doors sliding shut.

  I sprint. Too late.

  The steel slams into place with a final, echoing click.

  My stomach drops. No, no, no!

  I slam my fists against the door. “Nora!”

  No response. Just silence. Just the cold hum of the facility around me. She’s inside. I’m out here. Alone.

  My breathing picks up, panic sinking in like a heavy weight on my chest. I press my hands to the panel, try to override the lock, but it doesn’t budge. My fingers hover over my comm, but there’s nothing she can do now. She’s in. And I’m stuck.

  A sharp clatter behind me. I slowly turn.

  Cerberus stands right there, gun in its mouth, tail wagging.

  Then, just to drive the point home - it lifts its leg and pisses coolant all over my boot.

  I close my eyes. Exhale. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”