The group formed up. Tobin at the front with his shield. Marcus and Liz flanking. Malachar towering behind them. Vera and Mikael in the rear, protected but ready.
But the footsteps didn't come from just one direction.
Marcus's Soul Reading expanded, tracking emotional signatures throughout the lab complex.
Behind them. Left corridor. Right corridor. Above, on the upper level.
"We're surrounded." Marcus's voice was flat. "At least thirty signatures. Closing in from all sides."
"Thirty?" Mikael's face went pale. "We can't fight thirty soldiers in this confined space!"
The footsteps grew louder. Synchronized. Professional. This wasn't a random patrol—this was a coordinated assault.
Five soldiers emerged from the front corridor. Elite unit better armor than the gate guards, weapons that crackled with corruption enhancement. Their formation was perfect, shields overlapping, no gaps.
