The furniture sizzle into holograms, including the bookshelves.

I skitter to the other edge of the room. My eyes dart around, searching for a handy weapon. The holograms slip through my grasp; is there something solid in this room besides the robots and I?

The lamp flickers like an old firefly as Da-Xing's blue eyes glare at me. Mechanical whirs create a turbulent in its massive, metal body. Soon, crackles come alive through its raised fingers.

The room's temperature rises several degrees—or is that merely my nervousness?

"The window, Allice Worke. See if it can be broken or not."

"What?" I stammer as fear embraces a part of my heart, buckling my knees to the nearest wall. "This is too impossible."

"Allice Worke has Xin-Yo!" it exclaims. "Xin-Yo will try to remember Da-Xing's weakness—there must be something in the journal. Allice Worke must either try for the window or distract Da-Xing."

Xin-Yo's spirit burns the dying fuse in me. Kicking myself off the floor, I dash to the window, which seems like endless miles away. I trace the sleek surface and search for a latch, or a hook, or...

"Watch out!"

Da-Xing's fingers snap against the window just as I duck beneath it. I roll aside as it tries to grasp me, but the motion strains my waist. I stop myself from yelping at the sprouting pain.

"We don't have much time." I grit my teeth, rolling aside thrice to avoid the white sparks from the robot's nails. This time, I can barely hide the pained grimace. It soothes my insides for the briefest moment when the sparks collide against the floor instead, leaving black trails beneath the bookshelves.

"Da-Xing means Big Star in a language."

One of the lightnings hit my elbow, and I freeze as the unstable white spark jolts my skin awake. The pain sears hot and steady. First my waist, then my elbow... how long will I last this way?

"Da-Xing's special abilities are electricity, sensitive senses—like mimicking any surfaces, and enormous strength."

"Weakness?"

"The aluminum armor isn't as heavy as it looks. Da-Xing is a messy fighter. Da Xing is also afraid of heights. Allice Worke, the window is our only way out."

Having dashed back to our potential escape route with much struggle, I push the glass with my hands, but it doesn't budge. I bash my knuckles red against it. Dust scatters on the sill after Da-Xing's earlier punch and my recent one. While its creaking footsteps advance closer, a thunder brews in the room. Smaller lightnings crowd around its fingertips, like children having a tantrum.

I can't escape from this monster alone. Not without Xin-Yo's help.

"I think I have a plan. I don't know if it'll work, but... get out and hold tight to my shoulders. Once I duck from the window to lure Da-Xing, you should hop off, and punch the glass once Da-Xing does it too. We'll use its strength against it."

"But if the window breaks, Xin-Yo might fall..."

"See, the backpack has loose, but thick threads. Tie them to your strongest body part; could be an arm, or your leg..."

"But what will Allice Worke—"

Before a word flurries out, a fist slams against where my head once was. The punch barely grazes my ear. I flip sideways, already flinging Xin-Yo to the panels. A crack already forms tentacles after the hit. It grows bigger as Xin-Yo's knuckles continue to assault the window.

But the world stops rotating when Da-Xing grabs Xin-Yo's neck and tosses it across the room, where it lies like a crumpled sack, fizzing with white smoke and squeaky gears.

An imaginary pain travels on my nape.

I pounce on my feet, taking advantage of Da-Xing's hunched stance and kick its back several times. Like a puppeteer to its puppet, Da-Xing grasps my neck too, dismounting me off my feet when Xin-Yo dashes like a limp grasshopper across the room, back to the window. "Xin-Yo won't leave Allice Worke alone!" The glass begins to splinter at Xin-Yo's desperate efforts.

The clasp around my neck tightens. Air leaves my lungs in wheezes. I try to pry the metal fingers off, but they're too thick. Tears trickle down my cheeks at the excessive pain. It won't be long before my neck snaps into half.

What am I doing? All I've done is burdening Xin-Yo, pushing it to its limit.

Before Xin-Yo sputters another remark, Da-Xing's voice quakes from its throat, bouncing off the walls like it's put on the speaker. "A broken window for Allice Worke's neck."

Xin-Yo pauses midway. Whizzes spark out of its hands like fireworks; is that an overworking sign? "Da-Xing might be able to mimic a chameleon, or produce electricity like an eel, even use the strength of an elephant. But those are nothing compared to Xin's brain—that of a human's."

I barely breathe when Xin-Yo leaps to the air and hits Da-Xing's eyes. Da-Xing gurgles as it launches to Xin-Yo, who's skipping like a flea on the gleaming armor and attacking with distorted blows. The electricity covering Da-Xing's hands grow more violent, in sync with Xin-Yo's battle cries.

Within a flash, the grip around me loosens as I crash to the floor.

"Hurry!" Xin-Yo chirps from Da-Xing's head.

I stumble on my feet, ignoring the blowing pain in my head. A snapped thread dangles from my backpack—the same one wrapping Xin-Yo's ankle. The road below is surrounded by the people pouring into The Office.

Where will we land once we fall down?

Using my backpack to shield my hand, I face the jagged cracks knuckle-first. I bite back a scream at the piercing slice into my bones. Closing my eyes, I repeat the process. With time, I finish the job that both the robots started.

The cracks litter down the field. People scramble away, alerting the securities. The high sun scorches, slapping me back to my determination.

Xin-Yo lands above my unzipped backpack after rocketing off Da-Xing. I climb to the windowsill, barely counting the odds before I plunge down, meeting widened eyes and several cries. Dust hugs me like a beloved accomplice when my back slams against the ground. Da-Xing's groans still fills the air, and a glance is enough to reveal its blue, hatred-driven eyes. And for that, I scamper back on my feet, avoiding the curious crowd.

Securities are yet to come; what should we do now?

Xin-Yo shuffles in the backpack, still fizzing with white smoke. "Allice Worke should hide. There will be more people chasing out there, so Allice Worke can't leave."

"Where to? You're good with this place... aren't you?"

"Mr. Jorge Zaragoza is having an underground meeting, Allice Worke. Xin-Yo just remembers—there's a shortcut to the secret underground corridor."

A huge commotion rattles the grounds, followed by the shouts of guards from afar. Da-Xing towers over the workers, its eyes scanning the backing crowd. I scurry away from them and lower my head, though pain scathes me in several places.

"Stop here and tap the wall," Xin-Yo says once I tread on a rocky pathway, almost rounding the corner back to the eastern door, where we once came from. Low growls warn me from the distance, throwing me back to Jorge's threat about the feral hounds. That heartless hornet... "There will be an elevator. Allice Worke has five seconds to enter the tube." Within seconds, the white, chipped surface gradually turns into a doorway with a glistening tube. Once I step in, the door whizzes shut and flies down as Da-Xing's foot shows up in my periphery.

"Will they find out about this?" I ask quietly after flipping my head around, trying to catch a glimpse of any cameras. But it's too dark; there's barely my reflection painted on the tube's glass.

It doesn't take long for the elevator to bump on a pedestal, where a sophisticated corridor, filled with paintings on both cream-brown walls, stretches. My shoes pad against the cloud-like rug. Only four white doors pop out from both walls, one of them emitting hushed conversations.

I push Xin-Yo into my wrenched backpack as I tread along. I strain my ears to the doors on my right, then to the ones at the opposite. The conversations are still there, but nothing reaches my ears. Which room holds the meeting?

That's when a door's faint outline glows from the corner of the room. When I press my ears to the frame, a woman is saying, "If you don't want me to spoil your secrets to our eavesdropper, dear Jorge, please consider my suggestions."

It's as if a giant just kicks my chest.

I slip to the room on my left. The door is unlocked, and as I skitter into the darkness, uneasiness creeps on my skin.

A quick scan of the room provides nothing but the palm leaves painted on the walls and a dark blue carpet on the floor to muffle my footsteps. There aren't any faint, static beeps in the room; there aren't any active devices. But who knows, Jorge's office also didn't emit anything ominous before Da-Xing appeared...

"No one knows this secret chamber, Beatrix." Jorge sounds gruff. A slight tremor seeps through the wall I'm pressing my ears onto. "Besides Austin, Lara, and The Circle Six, there's no one—"

"How about those you've gotten rid of?" the woman strikes back. "How many interns have stumbled upon your secret and ours? The Worke couple too"—I stiffen at the name—"and there's your newest victim, the fluffy goof of a ball."

"Beatrix, remember your place. You're only here for—"

"If what I'm saying is true, there's no need to defend your mayor, Orion."

I sling my backpack higher on my shoulders. Xin-Yo has passed out, and its weight burdens my muscles more.

I need to know more of these people. We've gone this far—it's not the time to return, despite already losing a team member.

If I can get something important, Sandra might forgive me for not saving her earlier...

Someone leaves their chair, grinding it with a creak. "Anyway, the Lowlifes will notice something's off soon enough. After our ambush at Nexon Neighborhood—"

"What bothers me is your son's presence there, Orion." Jorge's voice rises like a rolling tide. "Of all people—"

"There's no confirmation yet—"

"His fingerprints, also his hair, have been found on the Ninja Grenades, Orion. Your daughter is still unconscious. Once she talks—"

"You can continue this performance later, boys. My husband is ill at home. I don't have much babbling time," Beatrix's flat tone cuts them short.

I collapse on the floor, still straining my ears for something purposeful. It's as if the flesh around my waist has turned into mush. As I crouch, a small whimper escapes me.

It's too painful. I can't continue without any treatments...

"So we're here to discuss the impudence of Hua's daughter and her scavenger of a friend. What are they looking for, Jorge?" Beatrix continues with urgency.

"They must've come for my journal since they have my old robot now. The girl is a genius herself. Has Steven's curious gift, I guess."

"Ironic, isn't it?" Beatrix's voice leans closer to the wall on the other side. "Even your most trusted children can interfere with Circle Six's plan. Being childless has its own advantages."

A squirm from my backpack jolts me. "Xin-Yo wants to meet Lin-Roy and recharge... to heal. It hurts, Allice Worke."

Its honesty slams guilt into my heart. I almost twiddle with Roy's Onyx Agent on my ear when a boom, like the one during our descend from the elevator, shudders the floor.