Amy was already more than halfway underground when the first drop of blood hit the floor. But it wasn’t hers.

  She reached the ground floor, a corridor of corpses left in her wake. Sanctuary agents. Omni Corps intruders. Their bodies lay crumpled together, enemies and allies reduced to the same lifeless silence.

  At the end of the hall, the gate to the lower levels stood open, just as she’d left it. Amy stepped inside and walked to the hidden panel in the wall. With a tap, the concealed elevator came to life, the metal doors sliding open with a tired groan.

  She selected the lowest floor, the heart of Birmingham base. The elevator descended into void, a fitting metaphor for what Sanctuary had become.

  The second the doors slid open, gunfire erupted, Omni agents already waiting, weapons raised. But the elevator was empty.

  A small green sphere rolled lazily across the elevator floor, bouncing once before coming to rest in the center of the room.

  The agents froze, instincts kicking in too late. They dove for cover behind battered desks and half-smashed monitors. Silence.

  A feint attack.

  Before they could process the trick, a burst of gunfire shredded the frontline. Amy’s rifle tearing through them from a blind angle. She tossed the rifle the moment it emptied, already drawing both pistols. Her boots hit the floor running.

  Two quick shots—the agents still crouched behind the desks, dropped instantly.

  Another agent spun toward Amy, rifle rising, but Amy leapt — landing directly on the woman’s shoulders, twisting mid-air. Her pistols fired down the hall, taking out two more while her heel slammed down into the woman’s skull.

  She crumpled beneath her, and Amy rode her body down to the floor. The hidden blade in her boot flicked open, stabbing clean through the woman’s temple as they hit the ground.

  There was no hesitation and wasted movement.

  Amy stood, scanning the dim command center. The place was exactly like the image she had memorized years ago—flickering monitors, ancient comm consoles, walls stained from old water leaks, and a massive map screen half-covered in static. It smelled like metal, sweat, and the sour tang of spilled coffee and blood.

  The air was still.

  Suddenly, a gun cocked behind her. Amy pivoted just enough to dodge, the bullet cutting through the air beside her cheek. Without a second thought, she raised her pistol, fired once—the agent slumped forward, eyes wide with shock.

  That was the last target

  She exhaled slowly, her breath fogging the cold air. Time to locate the base commander.

  Amy moved carefully through the underground headquarters, her steps steady but silent. Corpses littered the hall—both Omni Corps and Sanctuary agents. Some she recognized from past missions, their names flickering through her mind like ghosts.

  Sam. Nelly. Frey. Edward.

  A flash of memory—the mission to terminate a bioweapon before it triggered a global pandemic. Another—shutting down a nuclear arms smuggling ring before it reached unstable hands. And another—infiltrating a secret meeting between UK and Russian officials, stopping an unholy alliance that would have rewritten the world order.

  She shoved the memories down. Now was not the time.

  She reached the commander’s office—a private, soundproofed room. The door was unlocked.

  That’s already a bad sign.

  Amy pushed it open, stepping into complete darkness. Silence. She flicked the light switch.

  A single man sat slumped in the commander’s chair. His body still, lifeless—but no blood.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Amy approached cautiously, pressing two fingers to his neck. Nothing. No pulse.

  Her eyes drifted to the floor. An auto-injector, just inches from his fingertips.

  "Executed suicide. He chose death over capture."

  Amy straightened, looking at him—not as a soldier, not as an agent, but as someone who understood. It was an admirable choice. But a tragic one.

  She gave a small, respectful bow before turning away. There was only one thing left to do.

  She set explosives around the commander’s room and the entire underground headquarters, working swiftly. Once finished, she changed her disguise—switching back into a normal civilian, a woman in her twenties blending into the crowd.

  Then, without hesitation, she ran.

  As she exited the building, a muffled explosion rumbled beneath the streets. But above ground? It was nothing more than background noise—another city sound lost in the hum of trains and distant construction.

  No one suspected a thing.

  Amy pulled out her phone and contacted Rex.

  “It’s done, commander. Birmingham has been compromised. Nothing but Omni Corps agents. But the base leader…” she hesitated, glancing at the place she just escaped. “He left the world before they could extract anything from him.”

  A pause. Then Rex’s voice, grim but unsurprised. “I see. My hunch was right. If they’ve reached Birmingham, it’s only a matter of time before all of England is burned. I’m moving the remaining Sanctuary agents to Scotland, Wales, and Cornwall. Scotland will be the safest choice for you and for the piece.”

  Amy stiffened. The piece.

  Kou’s face flashed in her mind—that small, hesitant smile from before.

  Damn it. She had to get back to him. Now.

  “Sir, I have to go. If Birmingham’s been hit, then our safehouses might be compromised too. I need to get the boy out.”

  “Good call, Agent Amy. Take him straight to Birmingham Station and board the train to Edinburgh. I’ve signaled Michael—he’ll meet you there. First-class tickets, already booked. That section will be mostly empty, the perfect cover for the Void.”

  “Understood.”

  The call ended.

  Silence pressed down, but it wasn’t peace—it was dread.

  Kou.

  Amy hailed a cab, jumping in before the driver could even greet her. Her fingers were tense against her knees the entire ride.

  By the time the cab pulled up to the abandoned warehouse, she didn’t even take her change—she just threw the cash and bolted outside.

  One and a half hours.

  That was too much time.

  That was an eternity in a spy’s world.

  "Please… please be okay."

  Amy slammed through the warehouse door, sprinting straight for the locked room.

  She barely registered herself unlocking it, barely registered her breath shaking.

  Then, when she finally opened the room door—the sight hit her.

  Amy’s breath caught in her throat.

  Kou was on the floor.

  His small body lay motionless. A tiny pool of blood had dried on his forehead.

  No movement. No sound.

  Amy’s heart stopped.

  “KOU!!!!” Her voice broke.

  She dropped to her knees beside him, hands trembling as she grabbed his small shoulders. Kou’s cold, emotionless eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

  “No. No no no no no no NO… I’m so sorry, Kou…”

  She laid her head against his chest, her breath shaking, tears spilling freely—tears of regret, of horror.

  “This is all my fault.” She pressed her ear harder, listening, desperate for something—anything.

  Then—a faint, rhythmic thump. His heart was still beating.

  Her breath hitched, and the sheer relief shattered her. Tears of horror shifted into something else—not peace, but at least… not final loss.

  Then, her fingers brushed against something wet. She sat up and saw it—blood.

  Her gaze darted to his forehead, then to the walls. Smears of red. Streaks, as if…

  Amy’s breath staggered. Her stomach twisted. “Was he… harming himself?”

  The relief in her chest vanished, replaced with sheer horror.

  “I’m sorry, Kou… but I am here now! I am with you!!”

  Amy pulled him closer against her chest, rocking slightly as tears kept falling.

  “So please, wake up…! We really have to go right now.”

  Silence. No response. His eyes remained open, but there was no recognition, no reaction.

  Amy gently tapped his face, again and again, her voice breaking. “Kou… please.”

  Nothing.

  She shook him a little harder. “Kou, look at me!”

  Still, nothing.

  His eyes were open, his heart was beating, but he was… gone.

  What’s happening? What’s wrong with him? Why is this happening? What happened to Kou!?

  Amy’s panic rose like a tidal wave. Her mind spiraled—confusion, frustration, fear, desperation.

  Stay calm. Stay calm. Think.

  But nothing could prepare her for this.

  She had walked through fields of corpses. She had assassinated world leaders, infiltrated high-security black sites, and fought against impossible odds.

  But nothing—

  Not one second of her life—

  Had ever prepared her for this.

  For the first time in years, Amy felt completely helpless.

  She wasn’t an agent.

  She wasn’t Void right now. The Void had never felt fear. But Amy had.

  She was just a woman holding a broken child—her hands too bloody to fix him.

  Amy stood slowly, holding Kou tightly against her chest. Her grip was too strong, too desperate—as if she was afraid that if she let go, he would slip away forever.

  Her breath was ragged, a mother on the verge of losing her only child.

  She secured Kou into the front-carry harness, adjusting the straps so that he was held securely against her. His head rested against her shoulder, unmoving.

  And right now, she was a horrified mother clutching her only child.

  "I’m sorry, Kou."

  Her grip tightened around him.

  "But I won’t let you go."

  Then, with one final glance at the blood-stained walls, she shoved the last of their essentials into her backpack and turned toward the door.

  They were leaving. Now. A thunder roared through the sky as they left. Rain continued to pound.

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