Akio remained near the edge of the crowd, hands relaxed at his sides as low murmurs rippled through the red lit entrance hall. The security guard’s voice carried faintly over the hum of the holographic map, issuing directions through a headset as the Sentari group was guided toward one of the sealed wings.

  The moment the lights had snapped, he had already shifted gears. His gaze moved methodically across the architecture of the museum, tracing lines others wouldn’t think to notice—the layered balconies ringing the hall, the reinforced beams hidden behind decorative stone.

  His eyes lingered briefly on a cluster of security cameras mounted along the far wall. Given the museum’s age and the visible signs of recent refurbishment, it almost certainly ran on one of the newer security systems. Unfortunately, those were prone to a very specific failure mode. In some cases, when those systems encountered a critical error, the emergency protocol triggered twice in quick succession. And when that happened, it didn’t just lock things down—it canceled the manual override entirely.

  Akio tilted his head slightly, gaze drifting upward to the massive fossil overhead, following the invisible paths of wiring and infrastructure hidden above the ceiling. Worst case scenario, if the override was dead, the only remaining option would be a forced reset of the main power generator.

  He catalogued the steps automatically.

  The generator would be housed in a secure ceiling level room, out of reach for most staff. Likely an EQ4 model, given the building’s scale and load requirements. To reset it properly, you’d have to remove the core, induce a temporary blackout, reset the breaker within a three to four second window, then reinsert the core—all in complete darkness. One attempt. No margin for error.

  It wasn’t complicated. For him, at least.

  Akio exhaled softly through his nose. For anyone unfamiliar with the process, it would be nearly impossible—precision, speed, and spatial awareness all at once, with no room for hesitation. He sincerely hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  His attention shifted back to the civilians gathered in the hall, then to the branching corridors radiating outward from the hub. He could slip away and do it, an excuse as simple as needing the restroom would suffice. From there, he could use his ability to map the most efficient route to the generator, bypass security, execute the reset, and be back before anyone realized he’d gone. Five minutes, perhaps less.

  The idea lingered, then faded.

  Acting now would be irresponsible, he thought. His injuries were still healing, and using his ability would risk reopening them. That wouldn’t just slow his recovery; it would compromise future missions. Pushing through now was short sighted.

  His eyes lingered on the dark corridor a moment longer before his expression softened, the corner of his mouth curving faintly.

  Besides, he thought, a quiet confidence settling in his chest, I’m sure she can handle it.

  Akio turned his attention back to the group, eyes settling on the security guard as he followed the directions being relayed through the comms. The glowing holographic map cast sharp lines of blue light across the guard’s face, highlighting the tension pulled tight around his eyes.

  “You should see another valve on the left side,” the guard said, voice wavering despite his effort to steady it. “Just turn the handle at the same time, and the light should turn green.”

  Akio watched him closely.

  There was a long pause. The guard’s shoulders stiffened, his breath catching as he listened to the response coming through the headset.

  “It… it didn’t work?” the guard said, disbelief bleeding into panic. “What—what do you mean? Maybe try again—just try it again.”

  A low murmur rippled through the civilians nearby. People shifted, unease spreading in subtle movements and hushed voices. Akio felt no surprise, only the faint tightening in his chest that confirmed what he had already suspected. Worst case scenario.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  But his focus didn’t linger on the implications. It snapped back to the guard.

  The man’s breathing had grown shallow and uneven, one hand clutching tightly at his chest as he fumbled with the holographic interface. His balance wavered, knees buckling slightly as his words broke apart mid thought.

  “This—this wasn’t—I—I’m going to—”

  Akio moved before the fall could finish.

  He stepped forward in one smooth motion, catching the guard as his body went slack. One arm braced behind the man’s shoulders, the other steady around his torso, redirecting the momentum and lowering him carefully to the floor. The guard’s weight settled against him, limp and unresisting.

  Akio knelt immediately, already assessing the man’s condition: glassed over eyes, jaw slack, breathing rapid and unstable. The muscles of the man’s chest were rigid beneath Akio’s hand, locked tight in a way that suggested heart failure.

  “Sir,” he said calmly, removing the headset and adjusting his grip to keep the guard upright. “Can you hear me?”

  Gasps and alarmed voices burst out around them. Someone shouted for help. Others surged forward instinctively, panic flaring as the crowd pressed closer.

  Akio lifted one hand without looking up.

  “Please,” he said, voice even but firm. “Give us some space.”

  Something in his tone cut through the noise. The crowd hesitated, then stepped back, forming a loose ring around them. The attention settled heavily on him, dozens of eyes fixed in silent expectation.

  Akio pressed two fingers against the guard’s neck, measuring the pulse. He shifted his hand, gently prying the guard’s clenched fingers away from his chest, then placed his palm flat over the man’s heart. The contraction beneath his hand was severe, the muscles locked in painful rigidity. Akio applied careful pressure, controlled and deliberate, easing where he could without worsening the strain.

  He leaned in slightly, gaze steady.

  “Breathe,” Akio commanded, quiet but absolute.

  The guard’s fingers locked around Akio’s wrist, grip trembling and desperate. His mouth opened in silent gasps, chest spasming violently.

  Akio shifted his weight, bracing the guard more securely against his knee, and continued applying controlled, rhythmic pressure along the sternum, just enough to ease the muscular constriction and encourage circulation. His other hand steadied the man’s shoulder, keeping his airway open, monitoring breath depth and timing each rise and fall.

  “Slow,” Akio instructed quietly. “Follow my count.”

  Seconds stretched thin. The guard’s pulse fluttered weakly beneath his fingers at the carotid. Then, gradually, the rigid tension beneath his palm began to loosen. The spasms subsided. The breathing, though still fragile, found something resembling a pattern. The worst of it was over, but the man was far from safe.

  Akio lifted his gaze and met the eyes of several civilians standing opposite him. They were frozen, waiting for someone to tell them what this meant.

  “I need two volunteers,” he said evenly. “One to support his back and keep him upright. The other to maintain steady pressure here.”

  Two people stepped forward immediately. Akio adjusted their positioning with precise efficiency—one kneeling opposite him to stabilize the guard’s torso, the other focused entirely on compressions and pulse monitoring under his direction. He remained beside them long enough to ensure their timing synchronized with his count.

  When the guard’s pulse stabilized into something consistently weak rather than collapsing, Akio rose smoothly. Another civilian slid into position where he had been kneeling, maintaining the support as instructed.

  Only then did he reach for the headset he had set aside on the floor. He fitted it over one ear with one hand, adjusting the mic into place as he straightened.

  “Do you read me?”

  A voice answered immediately. “Affirmative. What’s the situation?”

  Akio’s eyes flicked briefly back to the guard before responding. “The security officer experienced acute cardiac distress. He is currently stabilized but remains in critical condition.”

  “Copy that,” the Sentari replied. “We weren’t able to unlock the door. Should we attempt activation again?”

  Akio’s gaze shifted toward the holographic map projecting above the terminal. One hand rested lightly against the headset as his mind moved ahead of the question.

  “The activation valves reset to their original orientation after the indicator blinked green, correct?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Akio stepped toward the holographic display, blue light reflecting across his eyes as he assessed the interface. The system layout resolved almost instantly in his mind. He adjusted the map view with efficient movements, isolating the infrastructure layer beneath the exhibit floors.

  “Do not attempt another activation,” he instructed calmly. “Further attempts risk jamming the doors permanently. Given the response pattern, it is highly probable the remaining entrances are sealed as well.”

  The map pulsed faintly as he traced the power distribution network. It did not take long to locate the primary generator room—small, secured, positioned along a maintenance corridor not far from the Sentari’s current location.

  “We will need to reset the primary power generator,” Akio continued. “A full recalibration of the security system is the only viable solution. Do any of you have experience resetting an EQ4 generator?”

  There was a moment of silence on the line.

  “I do, sir,” the voice responded at last.

  Akio nodded once, though they could not see it.

  “All right,” he said, the plan already structured in his mind. “I will provide precise directions to the generator room. Once you reach it, you will remove the core, induce a temporary blackout, and reset the breaker within a three second window. I trust you understand the procedure.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Akio allowed himself the smallest exhale. “All right, let’s proceed.”

  He remained by the holographic display, voice steady as he guided the group towards the challenge that lay ahead.

  ─ ? NEXT CHAPTER POV ? ─

  Yoru