"This guy's getting annoying," one of the guards muttered, watching Ethan lie motionless in the wreckage. A cruel grin spread across his face as he grabbed a baton from a nearby officer. "I'll teach him what happens when you cross me."
He started forward, boots crunching over broken concrete. Lamplighter, standing a short distance away with his lighter still in hand, gave him a sideways glance. "If I were you," he said evenly, "I wouldn't get too close right now."
The guard paused mid-step. He hesitated, then gave a short laugh. "You might have a point." Instead of advancing, he swapped the baton for a rifle and raised it toward Ethan's prone body. He fired several controlled shots into him without approaching, bullets striking flesh and reinforced bone.
The impacts thudded through Ethan's torso. Pain flared along his ribs and shoulders, swelling spreading beneath the skin. His original plan—to play dead until Lamplighter stepped in close—collapsed instantly. He could feel the bruises forming, and though his enhanced physique absorbed the worst of it, the damage wasn't negligible.
He opened his eyes.
Twin beams of scarlet light erupted without warning, cutting straight toward Lamplighter's position. The fire-wielder had already been watching for movement, and the instant he saw Ethan's gaze sharpen, he dove aside. The laser sliced through the iron gate behind him, melting it into warped slag.
Lamplighter's expression hardened. The power reminded him too much of someone he had once worked beside. If that beam connected directly at close range, there would be no second chances.
The guard who had fired the rifle wasn't so fortunate. Ethan's heat vision swept across his midsection. There was a brief scream as flesh and bone carbonized in a single horizontal stroke. The rifle discharged wildly into the ceiling before the man collapsed in two charred halves.
A blast of flame erupted from around the corner as Lamplighter retaliated. He snapped his lighter upright and swept his free hand outward, expanding the ignition into a roaring wave. Fire surged across the corridor like a living thing, red and violent, heat pressing in from all directions.
The hallway became an oven.
Ethan felt the temperature spike instantly. His eyes glowed again, and he targeted the arm holding the lighter. If the source went out, the power went with it.
Lamplighter understood that instinctively. The moment Ethan's pupils reddened, he withdrew his arm behind cover. The beam carved into the wall instead, spraying molten fragments.
With the immediate flame suppressed, Ethan surged forward through the lingering heat. His heat vision scanned continuously, forcing Lamplighter to stay hidden behind structural supports.
Lamplighter cursed under his breath. Carlton had created something monstrous. Laser vision. Bullet resistance. Tactical thinking. The only thing missing was flight. If the beam were stronger, he would already be dead.
He repositioned, calculating angles. As Ethan approached a corner, Lamplighter flicked his wrist sharply. The flame on the lighter flared, swelling unnaturally large as if fed by pure accelerant. Under his control, it shot forward in a focused arc, a blazing serpent lunging down the corridor.
Ethan moved instantly.
He seized a mounted fire hose from the wall cabinet, twisting the valve open with a sharp wrenching motion. A high-pressure jet of water blasted forward and struck the lighter directly.
The flame sputtered.
Then vanished.
The larger blaze, robbed of its origin, collapsed with it.
Lamplighter stared at the hose in Ethan's grip in disbelief.
The lighter sputtered uselessly. He shook it, sparks snapping against soaked flint. "You think I only carry one?" he shouted, pulling a second lighter from his pocket as he dodged the continuing stream.
Ethan adjusted the nozzle, narrowing it to increase spray dispersion. The water fanned outward, soaking Lamplighter head to toe. The newly lit flame died instantly under the deluge.
For a second, Lamplighter simply stood there, drenched and stunned. The sophistication of kerosene fuel meant nothing when the ignition source couldn't stay dry.
Regret flickered across his face.
Without flame, he was reduced to a physically fit man in soaked clothing.
He turned and ran toward an adjacent office block, boots slipping slightly on the wet floor.
Ethan did not allow distance to grow.
His gaze sharpened, and two crimson beams lanced forward. They struck Lamplighter squarely between the shoulders, punching through his torso in a single clean line. The charred hole was wide enough that faint light from the office beyond shone through it.
Lamplighter staggered once before collapsing. Even as life faded, confusion lingered in his eyes.
He could not comprehend that a man branded unstable had countered him with a fire hose.
The corridor fell momentarily quiet.
With Lamplighter gone, the most immediate obstacle disappeared. Remaining guards were no longer strategic threats, only delays.
Ethan moved quickly toward the parking area. Smoke drifted upward from multiple corridors, and freed subjects clashed chaotically with staff and security. Some researchers, realizing the situation had collapsed beyond control, were already sprinting toward vehicles.
A woman fumbled through her bag beside a sedan. "Where are my keys?" she muttered frantically. Her hands trembled as she finally retrieved them and lifted them toward the lock.
A shadow fell over her.
"Give me the keys," Ethan said calmly, red light faintly reflecting in his eyes.
She froze, terror draining the color from her face. Her legs buckled, and she sank to the ground. "Please don't kill me," she stammered. "I didn't have a choice. I was ordered to—"
Ethan regarded her quietly for a moment. "Is that so?" he asked.
She nodded rapidly, tears streaking down her face.
"Then I'm sorry you feel that way," he replied evenly. "But that doesn't change anything."
The glow intensified.
Her pupils filled with red.
When he was certain she carried no tracking device and no remote trigger, he ended it cleanly. He took the keys from her limp hand, opened the car, and slid into the driver's seat. The engine turned over immediately.
Gunfire erupted from behind.
Bullets slammed into the vehicle's bodywork, puncturing doors and shattering glass. Ethan pressed the accelerator hard. As the car surged forward, he leaned slightly toward the window and fired controlled bursts of heat vision at the parked vehicles lining both sides.
He targeted fuel tanks.
Explosions followed in rapid succession. Fireballs bloomed behind him, ripping through the parking lot and eliminating pursuit options in seconds.
The metal gate ahead buckled under impact as he rammed through it. The car tore onto the open road, speeding into the empty night while gunfire chased uselessly behind.
Inside the ruined compound, Security Chief Wilson stared at the broken gate in disbelief.
"Get after him!" he roared at the remaining personnel.
"Sir," a guard shouted back, sweat pouring down his face, "all vehicles are destroyed. We'll need time to bring replacements from another site."
Wilson slammed his fist into the wall. Rage warred with dawning dread. Experiment Fifty-Eight was not just another casualty. He was an asset. A catastrophic asset now loose.
"Identify the vehicle," Wilson barked. "Track it and notify Vought immediately. We need backup."
Behind him, a wounded guard stumbled into the lot, screaming as part of his arm dissolved, exposing pale bone beneath melting flesh. Wilson's face tightened.
Fifty-Eight had escaped.
But others were still inside.
The chaos was not over.