I moved through the corridor, weapon ready, every sense heightened. The sounds of combat from outside were more distant now, muffled by the building's structure.

I don't know if they are winning or losing, but I doubt that the Ghanaian military would lose to something like this. I just really hoped that Samuel was ok. I didn't want someone else to die. Same with Valeska as the girls are all with her.

Then, during my thoughts, the intercom crackled to life again.

"This is boring," Mark's voice echoed through the hallway, amplified by speakers in the ceiling. "Watching you go through corridors. Beat up my guards. So predictable, Reynard. So… mechanical. Why don't you do something more interesting for once?"

I kept moving, not responding. Didn't give him the satisfaction.

"Look left," Mark said suddenly, though I could feel his smile behind his voice.

I froze. Was he helping his own guards? Warning them I was coming?

But Instinct was pinging differently. Not danger from Mark's warning. Danger that the warning was preventing my own demise.

I glanced left.

Two guards were positioned in a recessed doorway I'd been about to pass. Perfect ambush position. They were raising their weapons when I spotted them.

Tactical Firearm Handling made my response automatic. Two shots center mass on the first guard. He dropped. The second tried to adjust his aim but Adaptive Countering had already shifted my position. Three more shots. He went down too.

"See?" Mark's voice came through the speakers again, almost cheerful. "Told you. They were on the left side. We make such a good team, Reynard. Better than any of these incompetent fools who couldn't hit a target if it was painted on their chest."

I continued moving, processing what was happening. Mark was… helping me? Warning me about his own security personnel?

"Third door on the right," Mark continued. "Two more guards. Not very smart ones. Go ahead. Show them what happens when you send amateurs against professionals."

I approached the third door cautiously. Kicked it open. Two guards inside, exactly as Mark said. They turned in surprise—clearly not expecting someone to know their position.

Hand-to-Hand Combat made short work of them. Disarmed the first with a wrist lock and strike to the throat. Used his momentum to throw him into the second. Both went down, unconscious before they hit the floor.

"Beautiful!" Mark's voice practically sang through the speakers. "Did you see that? That's what real skill looks like! That's what enhancement is supposed to create!"

He laughed—a sound that sent chills down my spine. Not humor. Not joy. The sound of sanity fraying at the edges.

"Keep going straight," Mark instructed. "Then take the stairs up. Fourth floor. My command center is waiting. Isn't that what your looking for? Well I want to see you too! We need to finish this conversation face-to-face, don't you think?"

I moved as directed, my mind racing. Mark was completely off the rails. That much was obvious. But selling out his own security forces? Guiding me directly to his location?

This wasn't strategy. This was madness dressed in cooperation. I doubt even he realized what he's doing.

"Right at the top of the stairs," Mark continued, his voice echoing as I climbed. "Then second door. Oh wait—three guards coming down to meet you. Ready? Three… two… one…"

They appeared exactly on cue, rounding the corner with weapons raised.

But I was ready. Had been ready since Mark started his countdown. Explosive Footwork carried me into optimal position. Precision Strikes dropped the first guard with a blow to the temple. Grapple Flow Control used the second guard's momentum against him, throwing him into the third. Both went down in a tangle of limbs. Though I could tell from their faces that they were furious. Not of me or what I was doing to them. They were furious that Mark was selling them out. And what's worse is that the whole building was hearing about this, putting them on edge.

"YES!" Mark shouted through the speakers. "That's it! That's what I'm talking about! You and me, Reynard! The only two who really understand! The only ones who matter in this world!"

I reached the fourth floor, following Mark's directions. My body camera was capturing all of this—Mark's voice, his guidance, his betrayal of his own people. The world was watching this descent into madness in real time.

"No one can stop us together," Mark continued, laughing between words. "All these fools—these weak, pathetic, low-rank wastes of space—they never understood what we are! What we can do! Enhanced! Superior! Natural hierarchy made manifest! All subjects of NovaCore are inherently superior to those who have never suffered!"

I moved down the corridor he'd indicated. My weapon stayed ready even though Mark seemed to be directing me away from threats rather than toward them. Either way, with how insane he is, I couldn't let my guard down. For all I know he could lie at the last second or trick me as a 'test'.

"Last door at the end," Mark said, his voice taking on an almost sing-song quality. "That's where I am. That's where we finish this. Just you and me. The way it should be. The way it always should have been. Not Hugo! Not Anthony! Not some stupid coalition! Nor some global military force! Just you and me baby!"

I reached the door. Reinforced. Electronic keypad lock. More secure than anything else I'd encountered in the building. Maybe even more secure than anything I've encountered in my life.

I stopped, examining the mechanism. Observation cataloged the security features. Military-grade encryption. Biometric backup. The kind of system designed to keep people out even in emergencies like fires or natural disasters.

While I analyzed, Mark started singing.

Not coherently. Not a song I recognized. Just… sounds. Words that might have been mnemonics or might have been nonsense. His voice echoed through the empty corridor, creating an atmosphere that was equal parts surreal and disturbing.

"One-seven-three-eight-two-nine-four…" he sang, the numbers flowing into melody. "Or was it four-nine-two-eight? No, no, that's the other one…"

I wasn't going to figure out the code from that rambling. Even if there was a pattern, Mark's mental state made following it impossible regardless of the singing.

Instead, I pulled out the electronic bypass tool Valeska had provided. High-end equipment. Professional grade.

And for the first time since acquiring it, I activated my Hacker portfolio.

The S-Rank job I'd taken from Hyena—the criminal I'd defeated and used Destroy on months ago. I'd never actually used it in combat or even any scenario for that matter. Never needed to. But now…

Data Intrusion let me see the electronic lock's structure like a three-dimensional map. Encryption Break identified weak points in the security protocol. Network Manipulation gave me access to override commands buried in the system's core.

My fingers moved across the bypass tool with practiced precision, guided by skills I'd absorbed but never actually employed until this moment. It was surreal in all honesty. Maybe this was the superiority that Mark always rambled on about, being able to do jobs and skills better than everyone else despite never having done it. Regardless, I still don't agree with his philosophy, the System's flaw is that it only shows your skills regarding a randomly chosen job, but that job is rarely the one your the best at. "If you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will spend its whole life believing that it's stupid." Albert Einstein said that and that applies to here too. I wasn't going to let the System decide the future of this world.

Eventually, the lock clicked open.

"There he is!" Mark's voice came through, delighted. "The hacker emerges! I knew you had it! Knew you'd taken it from that pathetic criminal! See? We're the same, Reynard! We take what we need! We use what works! Natural superiority in action!"

I pushed the door open, weapon raised, Threat Prioritization scanning for immediate dangers.

The room beyond was massive. Walls covered with monitors—hundreds of them, showing security feeds from throughout the building and around Geneva. Some feeds showed the firefight outside, still ongoing. Others showed empty corridors I'd already cleared. A few displayed news broadcasts of my message playing on loop.

And in the center of it all, sitting in a chair with his legs spread wide, still singing that nonsensical song, was Mark.

His scarred face was illuminated by the glow of surrounding screens. His expression was… wrong. Not afraid. Not angry. Something closer to ecstatic. Like he'd been waiting for this moment and it was finally, gloriously here.

He looked up as I entered, his song trailing off into laughter.

"Reynard!" he said, spreading his arms wide in welcome. "Finally! Face to face! Just like it should be! Just like I always knew it would be!"

I kept my weapon trained on him, Tactical Firearm Handling maintaining perfect aim even as I processed the scene.

"It's the end of the line, Mark," I said.