Several mild footsteps echo from the corridor, pounding like hammer against nails. I brace my feet and clutch my backpack when the visitors knock three times on the meeting room's door.

It flashes open like a storm. "What is it?" Jorge asks with a grated throat. "Is the situation under control?"

"Sorry to interrupt your meeting, Sir, but Mr. Austin insists us to," a voice as warm as sunlight replies. Is that Argus? "Prototype Zero-Two fails to finish your task, Sir."

Jorge clicks his tongue. "So where is the pest now? Has he escaped?"

"There's an Onyx Agent showing up at our Tracer screen." I gulp down at the hesitation in his words. "The signal comes from here."

I snatch The Office's Onyx Agent off my earlobe, crushing it in my grip. White crackles and a foul-smelled smoke, alike to the signals of Jorge's creations when they're broken, explode through the fissure. I shove the bits down my pocket, mourning how my stupidity seems to be a lifetime curse.

"We should search every room, Sir."

Abundant panic overflows my thoughts as I sling my backpack to a shoulder, treating it like my shield. Before I spend another step to the door, the handle twitches. Thin threads of light stream into the room.

Like an animal avoiding capture, I lunge at the black-uniformed officer, knocking him with the backpack. I skip past his figure as I dash to the elevator. Ominous buzzes and shrieks echo everywhere. Blue rods try to reach my furious legs like hungry snake tongues.

The elevator is a grasp away. An outstretched finger away. Now a thumb away—

"Don't let him get away!"

"Lobby guards, target is underground. I repeat..."

The elevator's glass door rifts open. It's like there are vines binding me as I push myself forward. My limbs grow weary and painful, screaming for a pause.

Right when I thrust myself forward with a feral cry, the elevator's glass door traps me inside.

The surrounding officers pounce on the barrier as Jorge's cries lash their backs like an invisible whip. His two colleagues stand like statues behind him, watching the events like it's merely a movie.

The floor gradually distances from my sight, and the elevator jostles into a halt as dark clouds crowd above the glass. Spread around me are more officers clad in black. There's a patch-eyed between them—Migos. A horde of dark dogs greet me, saliva dripping from their yellowing fangs. Like the Mantis shrimps, there's something too beastly about them.

I'm as dead as a corpse while being surrounded by these vultures.

"Allice Worke"—a restless shift bustles in the backpack; why is Xin-Yo awake?—"Xin-Yo has sent a distress signal to Lin-Roy using Allice Worke's Onyx Agent."

"Put your hands in the air!" an officer bellows, aiming his taser rod at my face.

"So what do we do?" I ask, shrinking deeper as the door opens with an innocent hiss.

"How about stalling time? Lin-Roy can't be long—"

"Rubik's Shield!"

Our surroundings alter for a while before stabilizing back to its original state. The officers redirect their weapons to the outer part of the black gate. The air weights heavy until a curious item prances under their feet, erupting into a massive wall of black and white squares, dividing the officers from the view beyond them.

The Rubik's Shield belongs to none other than Lin-Roy himself.

I dart out of the elevator, cringing at how it zooms back down with ease.

"To the black gate, Allice Worke. Use Xin-Yo as a shield. Lin-Roy have set up these Rubik's Shields for a short time; Allice Worke and Xin-Yo must hurry."

More of the defensive weapons are cast into the lawn. In a matter of seconds, a labyrinth is formed, each step closer to the gate requiring a pick from three separate ways.

At the same time, the elevator dings from my back. More black army swarms into the scene. Why should there be Argus among them? It'll be harder for me to attack them.

Like a defensive hedgehog, dozens of metallic thorns forms a crown for the gate. I scurry away from the guards, as quick as my legs allow me. The occasional hits and stings may stop my movements for a few seconds, but I still have my hands besides my legs. Once the black gate arrives fully in my sight, my palm shoots up to one of the pillars. I heave myself up, kicking against them for support. It doesn't take long for the same thorns to decorate the pillars, stabbing my fingers and shoes and evoke my silenced cry. With laboring breath, I bear the bloody pain.

I'm almost there. A mighty heave will throw me to the other side.

When things flood back to me, I'm already in Mr. Jules' van, panting hard next to Roy, who grips the steering wheel like a buoy. His face is red, shrouded in heat and sweat. The Ninja Grenades and Rubik's Shield are poking out of his bag. The van reels with shrill screeches before zooming along the road.

Xin-Yo crawls out of the backpack, smelling like a charred banana. "Thank you for responding to Xin-Yo's desperate signal, Lin-Roy."

"I was around here, no worries." Roy glances from his rear-view mirror. "I heard Sandra is in a house arrest. I initially came to ask you two about it." A scowl graces his face. It deepens, accompanied by nosediving brows, at the wailing sirens from our tail. "Well, now it's time to create a pileup and blame the mayor."

"Where are you taking them?" I hug the backpack closer to my chest, pushing my nausea at Roy's intolerant speed. "Sorry about Sandra, but there was nothing I could do. Should we pick her up?"

"I said 'house arrest', didn't I?" Roy kicks the gas harder. The van zooms through the busy roads, weaving between vehicles as easy as a slinking motorcycle. It becomes more like a race car than a delivery transportation.

"So are we going back to the treehouse and wait?"

The coldness in Roy's eyes are slightly thawing. "I haven't gotten any distress signals from her Onyx Agent. That means she's managed to plan her own runaway. After all, this isn't her first time planning such a thing."

🐾

After the gruesome road trip, which costs hours and spares only a police car on our tail, I fumble around for a paper bag. My stomach's remaining contents swirl like a roll cake, thanks to my wounds and Roy's reckless speed. When he offers a bottle of water, I snatch it, savoring the cold liquid in one swig.

The van swerves right at Roy's command, entering the deserted outskirts. It still remains like the last time I passed it: closed stores, dirt-scrubbed pavements, crumbling boards. The darkening noon brings me back to my first day meeting this unlikely duo.

In this timeline, a week flies like a month.

"How's the recruitment going?"

"Grand-Mad knows the right people." He veers between piles of garbage, barely braking despite the van's coughing engine. "We've taken over four neighborhoods so far. They're fierce, and loyal, and... you know Sparta?" He chuckles. "The poorest community amongst Lowlifes, according to Grand-Mad. Recruiting them is her first priority so far."

A tiny splash of warmth spreads through me. "That's... great. Thank you—"

"You shouldn't," he interrupts. "How about you?"

"Only Xin-Yo can answer that properly. All I can say is... Jorge has replaced Xin-Yo with a fighter." I end up rambling about Da-Xing's abilities, from its Protoype Zero-Two nickname, its chameleon disguise, eel characteristics, to its elephant strength—

Wait—it can't be real.

I nearly squeal as realization hammers into my brain.

"Animal behaviors," both of us chime at the same time.

Roy races through the alleys, speeding like a tsunami. "Jorge is using the zoo animals. He tested them with Chiroquin and released them into the city, analyzing their reactions. It was a success; the animals only attacked certain civilians and lurked around the assigned spots. The escaped ones, like Ax, are probably—"

"Stronger self-control?"

"Either that, or they were born as rebels. Ax isn't a child either, which is why it can resist the Chiroquin better than your younger Mantis shrimps. And now, Da-Xing is another experiment. He must've combined the animals' abilities and robotics. Bioengineering..."

Finally, another puzzle piece in Jorge's scheme. Another panel on his chessboard. It's about time that the pawns—Highlifes and Lowlifes—start warring. I stretch out a toothy grin, releasing bits of tension and stress from my insides.

More sirens hoot from the distance. Even so, our pursuer's blue light has disappeared, as if the car never chases us in the first place.

"About time. Let's get to Huntshire and dump this van."

"Are you sure they aren't going to follow us?" I wring my palms together, cringing at the scars traipsing along my skin.

"Huntshire Woods won't welcome them well." A sinister glint sparks in Roy's eyes, and before I utter another word, the van's engine rumbles, heading to the eerie rainforest. Not long after, the van halts at a secluded valley close to Roy's lab, where light is unable to shoo the rodents back into their dens. Roy scours over the van, observing the crannies.

"So far, there aren't any spying devices. They might've used a satellite. Or a drone." Roy's head snaps towards the sky, his eyes scanning the thunder-clouded horizon. "Can't go back to the lab. I'll be risking my inventions."

"The treehouse is as risky, Roy." I swing the outweighing backpack to my shoulders. "I think we should go with it. Worrying won't get us home."

"Fine, the treehouse then. Can you walk? Here, let me take Xin-Yo."

The harsh wind bites at my injuries. With the promise of sanctuary and comfort, I channel more strength into my legs. They can barely support Xin-Yo's weight, so without it, things might be easier for me.

We trudge through the haphazard logs and spiking shrubs. As we avoid Roy's lab, fluttering birds dart above us, warning of an incoming storm. The heat becomes unbearable, itching my skin. I stagger through the debris, clutching every bark I pass through to keep up with Roy's steady pace.

Peeking out from Roy's bag of weapons is a thick bundle of papers. Roy doesn't seem like the type to read. Where did he get all those? "What are those papers for?" I ask out of sheer curiosity.

"Ah, I forgot to tell you. The reason why I wasn't with the recruiters was to get these reports from your flat. I think these might help us understand OCZ deeper."

"You returned without me?" A flurry of disappointment mixes my stomach, but I press it down, not wanting a rift to form between us for such a small matter. "So those are... Auntie Morgan's reports? Where did you... how did you find them? Why aren't they taken by the police?"

"Your auntie forced me to look everywhere, even under the beds." There's barely emotion in his voice, and it triggers my disappointment more. "But these were in the wall of her room, next to her bed. Does she read these before sleeping?"

I can only lower my head since the memories of her overwhelm me once more. How is she doing in prison? Is there something interesting about the animals in her glassy cell?

Gray has abandoned the sky, giving the majestic stage to black. The gust almost topples my balance. As we descend a lengthy mound, the trees surrounding our treehouse wave from the distance, beckoning us home.

I halt at the sight, leveling my breath.

The worry in Roy's brows are evident, contrasting his smile. Like me, he also aims his gaze to the windows, as if searching for a certain figure.