B-Block's Lair – Holding Room – Night
B-Block paced with a cocky strut across the concrete floor, flanked by his thugs—grimy-faced mercs high on adrenaline and arrogance.
He blew smoke from the side of his mouth and chuckled, eyes locked on the three commandos seated before him.
"So this is what elite looks like now? Hah. I heard Havery slipped through your fingers. I bet your boss ain't gonna be too thrilled about that, huh?"
He laughed again, and his men followed like obedient hyenas.
The commandos didn't reply.
They didn't have to.
Spyder sat on the edge of her seat, fists clenched, her body twitching subtly beneath the surface of her tech suit. Sweat slicked her brow. The suit's internal warnings flashed across her retinal display in bursts of red:
- CELLULAR DEGENERATION IN PROGRESS – CRITICAL STAGE NEARING.
Chavez saw it. He leaned in slightly.
"Spyder, don't," he muttered. "You're too far gone. Last treatment was two weeks ago, remember?"
Spyder didn't hear him. Or maybe she did, but rage was louder.
Echo, silent and calculating, stood at the far wall, arms crossed. His eyes were locked on B-Block, as if weighing the cost of killing him against the urgency of the mission.
"I'm just saying—" B-Block continued, stepping closer, "—you're here to do your master's bidding, right? Kill that Havery bastard. But here you are, sitting on your metal asses while the man slips further away. So tell me—why aren't you doing your job?"
Spyder shot up.
"That's it."
She made a sharp step forward—but the suit betrayed her.
Her knees buckled. A shrill, high-pitched alarm rang out as her body twisted violently, slamming to the floor. She screamed as her spine arched unnaturally, fingers clawing at the air.
"Spyder!" Chavez lunged, catching her in his arms as her body went into violent spasms. Her skin cracked where the suit peeled from her, revealing raw, breaking tissue. The suit began to decompress, no longer able to contain her systemic collapse.
"Echo, call him!" Chavez shouted. "Call Firefly—NOW!"
A sharp beep.
Firefly's hologram shimmered into the room—a floating, digital silhouette of tech and nerves.
"No, no, no—this wasn't supposed to happen. There should've been another three days before onset—" Firefly said, panic in his voice as he pulled up Spyder's biometrics from the Moon Base.
"Just help her!" Chavez barked, shielding her as she convulsed again, her voice hoarse with agony.
Firefly ran a drug sequence to. Match her DNA encoder but it returned errors, frustrating the techie.
"Firefly!" Chavez called out angrily.
"Her system is already immune to the last treatment, But wait —there's a new prototype sequence . The boss wasn't done testing it, but... it's our only chance." Firefly worked quickly, his fingers moving in the air as he transmitted the compound code to the 4D printer.
The hum of the printer began almost immediately.
Spyder sobbed through clenched teeth.
"Make it stop… please…"
"I can't.. I can't!" Chavez stammered.
"Kill me now... I can't hold on much longer... Do it!" she screamed even more.
Chavez held her down. It was all he could do.
Her suit hissed and crackled as it detached in parts, unable to hold her form. Her body was turning sickly and brittle, like dry bark crumbling in the wind.
"Kill me, please, Do it! " She begged.
The vial dropped into the tray. Chavez snatched it.
With a grunt, he slammed the syringe into her neck and pushed hard. Spyder gasped, body stilling… and then, her eyes slowly blinked into focus. She groaned, head rolling back, and fell unconscious—but alive just as her suit began to slowly envelope her body.
"Spyder…?" Firefly's voice trembled.
"She's okay. She's going to be okay," Chavez confirmed, his own hands shaking.
"The prototype wasn't finished. I'll need to run full checks ASAP," Firefly said.
Chavez looked down at Spyder—barely breathing but stabilized. The quiet that followed was heavy and solemn.
"Take her," Echo said at last, stepping forward. "Leave the rest to me. I'll finish this."
Chavez frowned.
"Are you sure?"
"We're all dying anyway," Echo muttered. "Today it's her. Tomorrow it's me. Or you. Or Firefly."
He turned, expression iron.
"Get her to the base. Firefly—prep the med pod."
"On it," Firefly said, and vanished in a blink.
Chavez hesitated, then nodded. He lifted Spyder carefully into his arms and started out of the compound. The mercenaries parted wordlessly, stunned by the chaos they had just witnessed. Even B-Block, for once, said nothing.
He stood stiff at the corner, looking at Echo with genuine unease.
Echo stepped forward, slow and calm.
"Find me Havery," he said, voice cold. "I'll do the rest."
B-Block nodded quickly.
"You heard the man," he barked at his crew. "Find that swine. NOW!"
The hunt resumed—but the mood had changed. The room was no longer laughing.
Now, it was afraid.