The red light of the drone pulsed like a dying heart, counting down the seconds of their lives. Kaelen’s voice still echoed in the rafters, a mocking ghost of the life Vance had left behind.
"Ten seconds," the speaker crackled.
A sudden, sharp crack of a high-powered air rifle cut through the tension. From the shadows of the upper loft, Jax—the club’s youngest member and a savant with anything that had a motherboard—lowered his suppressed weapon. The drone didn't just fall; it disintegrated. The high-tech bird spiraled downward, its rotors clipping the edge of a dangling engine hoist before slamming into the concrete floor in a shower of sparks and expensive silicon.
Silence returned, heavier than before. The message, however, remained etched in the air: We see you.
"Blackout!" Vance’s
