The thing about secrets, Rowan thought as he stared at the barrel of several guns, was the fact that sooner or later people wanted to know what they were. Especially in the digital age where every scrap of information was stored in binary just waiting for someone to dig it out.

He blinked and the world wide web which had been denied him since he'd entered that dark corridor came crawling through his scalp.

The palace's digital presence was surging on the web. Gone was their intricate web of secrecy. Rowan had seen to that, tugging a few strands of code here and there. The seal was broken, he could even reach out and make a call himself. So he did. 

There wouldn't be much on the news yet - but conspiracy sites. Those were all abuzz with the rumblings.  

He blinked, his focus drawn back to the room where the guards had their guns pointed at him but were glancing between him and Dana. He didn't move. The guards nervously shifted their weight, fingers twitching near triggers, time was on his side. Rowan figured they had a few minutes before total chaos struck.

The building shook. 

The other thing about secrets was that in their society there were plenty of factions willing to exploit them. Not everyone enjoyed living under the thumb of the Watchers. And now there was blood in the water.

The sharks were going to show up any minute.

Dana stood up buttoning her shirt. Her brown hair slicked back with perpetration. "Keep an eye on him. Get him some clothes." She turned to the man nearest her. "Status?"

A recruit tossed him a pair of black pants, socks, shirt, and boots. They were his from what felt like a millennia ago. Ignoring the stares he slipped them on with quick efficiency while maintaining his connection to the mainframe of the palace. 

The guard blinked, his right eye lighting up as he communicated with digital. "Not good," he said. "Systems are down all over the place. Barrier is down, we're visible."

"Damn," she turned to him. "What exactly did you do?"

"I made a call," Rowan smiled. "I told you, I'd take this place apart if you didn't give me Miranda. You don't listen."

Dana's jaw worked. For a moment Rowan allowed himself a brief moment of sympathy. There was something he was missing here. He tried to wrap his mind around it as the building shook around them. This woman had studied him with the notion that she was going to take him down. And yet the basics, his abilities seemed to have escaped her notice. He filed that information away for later. There was something bigger at play here. He could feel it. His intuition was ringing off the charts since the discovery that Miranda and Dana were sisters.

"Last chance," Rowan said.

"Dik," Dana made a call. "We have a situation, my office, package number 59. Guard it with your life. We'll be there shortly."

Rowan stared at her. If it was a ruse, it was a good one. "Wrong answer," he whispered. 

Dana's guard exchanged glances. "Shoot h-" 

Rowan's hand clapped her jaw. Dana tried to block it but was a hair too slow. The blow flung her back into the nearest guard. They collided with the wall, the guard breaking her fall. 

The room went black. 

Rowan crouched as the first gun went off where he'd been standing, mere nanoseconds before. His scanners were on, giving him a readout of the room. He knew they were doing the same. He was still wearing Dana's biometrics from his hack and he used them to affect now.

"Where is he?" One guard yelled. 

Thanks to his upgraded skin, Rowan could see each and every one of them in the black, their bodies lighting up like a Christmas tree as he switched between infrared and regular vision. It was almost not fair. He snatched a gun from the nearest man even as his fist drove under the man's armor and into his throat. The bones gave way with a sickening crunch. The skin was done - however long it took them to retrieve the man's stack was anyone's business. 

Rowan paused, changing his mind. He raised his gun up and fired into the man's throat. The bullet went out the back effectively destroying the stack. 

It was real death. Everything the man was, on that little disc, gone in a flash. It was time to stop playing nice. 

The door slid open and several guards ran out with Dana. 

But not all of them. Two tried to engage him. Rowan was ready, the first raising his fist to swipe at him in the dark. Rowan assumed they'd have every upgrade he did. It was foolish to assume they had weaknesses simply because they were recruits. Assumptions got you killed. The man's fist collided with his shoulder, and Rowan grunted even as he raised the pistol to the man's throat into weakest part of the gear and pulled the trigger. Another one gone.

The second guard squealed and tried to turn away, but Rowan shot him in the back. It was cold and calculated but he was past caring. He stooped low and fired again into the man's throat as he stepped over the twitching body ensuring that that guard wasn't coming back either. 

He stepped in the doorway and bullets ricocheted down past the hallway. Lights flickered, giving him somewhat of an advantage. He switched off the infrared and went to night vision. They would be just as temporarily blinded as he was. Thinking better of it he also snagged their mags from their belts. He was going to Dana's office and he was going to meet plenty of resistance along the way.

The building shook again.

Rowan assessed the situation rapidly, calculating his next move while the chaos around him provided a distracting cacophony. His heart didn't race; he was too seasoned for that, his responses clinical, almost cold. He knew he had escalated the situation, stepping beyond the rules of engagement that usually governed their skirmishes. This was where he lived anyway. The rules of engagement rarely applied to the elite when money made the reality.

But real death changed everything. It sent a message. 

Yet, it was exactly what was needed. Real consequences, real fear. 

He took a deep breath. The bodies behind him offered nothing in response, blood lining the walls where he'd blown out their stacks. More destroyed lives. 

He made another call. 

"You still interested in that deal?"

The voice on the other end was silent for a moment. "Yes, you get out securely and you'll have your freedom."

Rowan disconnected. They had asked for the impossible. He'd do it. He'd become the monster once more. Fuck, it was what he was good at.

He stepped out into the hallway. 

No bullets this time. It didn't matter. He knew they were heading. 

They knew where he was going. 

He ran, as he rounded the corner the bullets came flying. He pulled his first two of four pistols and pointed them forward waiting for the flashes. His cheek blazed and he knew he'd been nicked. 

Time seemed to slow as he bent forward into a roll, there was a room to his left and he ducked into it. The immediate sweep proved the room empty and he turned his attention to the hall outside. 

Five guards. They weren't taking him seriously enough. 

He closed his eyes and paused. There was one part of his job that he was able to do well and that was kill. And kill without mercy or regret. He took a deep breath and opened them. When he did the part of him that actually thought of men outside as human beings was gone. All that was left was a shell of a monster that had one goal in mind. 

He stepped out arms raised fingers already pressing on the triggers. He kept pulling the trigger till he was up close. The men ducked until the barrage was over and Rowan on top of them. The first two on the right simply had no cover, Rowan blew their stacks without a second's thought. More blood, iron tinged the dirty air as the building shook. The one in the middle ran away, sensing his end. The two lefties stepped out to fight him hand to hand.

A high kick aimed at his head was deflected. Rowan grabbed the food as it swung up and threw him back into his partner before raising his gun. They collided and fell, Rowan fired at them, stooping to make sure he hit each of their stacks before moving on. 

The fifth was somewhere up there in the dimly lit darkness. He pressed on, his enhanced vision guiding him through the darkness, every step deliberate. He knew the layout of this place, each corridor and escape route Dana might take to her office. His interface buzzed with data, feeding him live updates from the building's security systems—systems he now used against them.

He moved with cold efficiency taking any resistance down, blowing their stacks before moving on. He lost count of the bodies, and the weapons he picked up and discarded along the way. His body moving with the efficiency of a machine, each motion perfectly timed, his mind totally connected to the system and disconnected from his emotions. Dana's biometrics came in handy again as he bypassed the security, slipping through just as another explosion rocked the building, sending shockwaves through the structure. He was thrown off his feet into the wall as dust spilled into the air.

"Shit," he gasped before regaining his footing. 

The corridors echoed with the sounds of his pursuers. He paused but no one fired at him. They ran past him, men and women alike. He paused connecting to the dying system. He detected multiple intrusions from the outside. He smiled. The rats were abandoning ship.

He tried to detect Dana Margrave but the system tagged him right where he was. He ran forward again, half stumbling over rumble. Anyone who got in his way he shot. He was no longer stopping to put their stacks out. He felt it in the air. They needed to get out and they needed to do it now. The palace was going to come down around them. 

He wasn't even sure if the recruits realized the danger they were in.

There.

The lone door gave him pause. It shouldn't be this easy. But there were no guards here. It was the most structurally sound part of the building. He dropped his two empty pistols and snatched up the other two jammed into his belt. Bless whoever had given him a belt with these pants. On second thought they were probably dead now. He grimaced, a little of his humanity returning.  

More explosions. The floor shook. Rowan steeled himself and took a deep breath. He kicked the door open and walked in.

WC: 1747