My muscles coil, every veteran instinct in my body screaming at me to move. I don't look at the screaming cadet or the shadows. I narrow my eyes, locking my entire focus onto the massive, steam-hissing barrel of the Gatekeeper's arm.
The absolute millisecond I see a wisp of white steam escape the pneumatic valve, I throw my entire body to the right.
The world seems to slow down. A jagged, heavy iron spike the size of a baseball bat punches through the space where my skull was a fraction of a second ago. It grazes my cheekbone. The wind pressure alone is enough to leave a thin, stinging line of warm blood trickling down my jaw.
I touch it.
Just a scratch.
Oliver said this thing just fires to disable you…
My heart is slamming against my ribs so hard I can feel it in my ears.
I hit the dirt.
Bullshit. That didn't look like a warning shot. That was meant to disable my brain stem.
I scramble back to my feet, quickly scanning the room. The hasty cadet is still flailing on the floor, desperately trying to hold off the Shadow Shellcat. I can't break formation to save him right now.
"Hey!" I roar at the second generic cadet frozen nearby. "Stop staring and help your friend!"
I snap my attention back to Lola.
The sequence of lights is racing around the room. The moment the blue flame leaps into the glass housing of her lantern, Lola's small hand reaches out and taps it. Perfect synchronization.
Before the mechanic can even register her success, she casually pulls a glowing Scale from her inventory.
Another shadow beast begins to bubble up from the tiles directly beneath her lantern.
Lola doesn't even blink. She slaps the volatile crystal directly onto the forming beast's forehead before it can fully spawn.
Pop. A sudden, violently suppressed explosion tears the shadow construct into harmless wisps of dark energy.
A loud, triumphant train whistle echoes through the huge cavernous hall. Above the massive exit door, one of the eight red railway beacons clicks off, replaced by a solid, glowing green.
Down on the floor, one of the miniature toy trains violently shifts its track, breaking the circular loop and driving straight into a slot at the base of the Gatekeeper's grotesque throne.
Lola crosses her arms, letting out a loud, theatrical sigh. "See? Easy peasy," she mumbles, looking profoundly bored by the whole ordeal.
I quickly verify her position. She is standing at lantern number 6. I glance back up at the colossal boss. The giant analog clock serving as its face has its primary hand locked dead on the 6.
The mechanic is confirmed.
Timing and sequence are absolute.
The Gatekeeper releases a heavy hiss of steam, almost as if it's pleased to receive its toy. But the sound morphs into a deep, grinding, mechanical laugh that rattles the dust off the ceiling. It is utterly bizarre and terrifying.
"It's working!" Oliver cheers from the other side of the room, gripping his warhammer. "It's finally working!"
I don't celebrate. I check my own lantern. Position 3 on the dial.
Up on the throne, the mechanical clock head begins to spin wildly, a blur of rusted iron. It violently slams to a halt. It points straight up.
Number 12.
My eyes dart around the perimeter, counting the lanterns. One, three, four, six... twelve. My stomach drops like a bungee jump without a rope.
SHIT. Lantern 12.
It's the exact same lantern currently occupied by the panicked cadet who broke the sequence. The lantern that needs to be tapped next is the one where the two cadets are currently rolling on the floor, fighting for their lives against the Shadow Shellcat.
"Kill that beast right now!" I roar, my voice echoing off the stone walls. "We need that lantern completely clear!"
The Gatekeeper's mechanic doesn't care about our struggles. The blue flame begins its clockwise sprint, jumping from lantern to lantern. One flash per second.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Damn it, damn it, damn it. There isn't enough time.
I look at Oliver. He is at position 1, roughly thirty-two feet away from lantern 12. He's the closest.
"Oliver, get over there! Help them!"
Oliver doesn't hesitate. He breaks into a dead sprint, his heavy boots pounding the cracked tiles. But the light pattern is already closing in on the 12th position. Every two desperate steps Oliver takes, another lantern flashes.
Still carrying his full momentum, Oliver goes into a harsh slide. He heaves his massive warhammer in a wide, pivoting arc. The heavy iron head connects cleanly with the Shadow Shellcat's jaw, shattering the beast into a cloud of dispersing dark mana in a single, brutal blow.
Without breaking his motion, Oliver tries to recover his footing. He throws his weight forward, completely off-balance, desperately reaching out his hand to touch the lantern's glass.
His fingers slap the cold metal.
But he's a fraction of a second too late. The blue flame had just flickered out.
Wrong time. Wrong mechanic.
The heavy gears of the Gatekeeper groan. The colossal monster raises its hydraulic arm once again. The rotary dart launcher clicks into place, locking onto its target.
But it isn't pointing at me or Oliver. Or even the cadets.
It aims directly at Rhayne.
Rhayne sees it. Her storm-cloud eyes go wide, but she doesn't run. She plants her feet, pulls her gloves from her pocket, and bites down on them as if it could dull the coming pain. She raises her bare palm toward the barrel, hoping her void skill could swallow a steel spike moving at terminal velocity.
It can't. We both know it can't.
She is standing at the lantern right next to mine, the same 32 feet away, but as I watch that massive barrel align with her chest, my veteran instincts do the math.
I am fast, but I am not confident I have the speed to cover that gap in time.
I sprint anyway, giving every bit of energy that I have into my legs.
I can't lose her. Not like this. Not over a missed beat on a clock.