"Ethan," she said, her voice low but urgent, "how much longer until we get there?"
Ethan didn't answer immediately. He kept moving, his pace quickening as he glanced over his shoulder.
"Not much further. Stay close."
But Mia wasn't listening to him anymore. Something wasn't right. The streetlights above flickered, casting an eerie glow over the pavement. The air had grown heavier, charged with a sense of dread. She glanced down the alley, her instincts screaming that something was off.
Then she heard it—the sound of footsteps behind them, steady and deliberate. They weren't alone anymore.
"Run," Ethan muttered under his breath, his grip on her hand tightening.
Mia didn't need any more encouragement. She broke into a sprint, the black box still clutched tightly in her hands, her heartbeat thudding in her ears. Ethan was right beside her, but the footsteps behind them were growing louder, closer. They were being pursued, and the weight of the chase hung in the air like a storm.
A gunshot rang out, the sound of it slicing through the night like a thunderclap. Mia felt the heat of it, the danger that now pressed in from all sides.
Ethan jerked her to the side just as another bullet ricocheted off the wall beside them. He yanked open a door to a narrow building, and they tumbled inside. The sound of footsteps followed them, but the door slammed shut, locking them in darkness.
They were in a cramped storage room, the air thick with dust and the smell of old wood. Mia's breath came in ragged gasps, her hands shaking from the adrenaline.
"Who's following us?" she asked, her voice breathless as she pressed her back against the cold concrete wall.
Ethan didn't answer right away. He was listening, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of an exit. Finally, he turned to her, his expression hardening. "The Syndicate's still hunting us. But it's not just them. There's someone else."
Mia's heart skipped a beat. "Who?"
"Someone who wants the box more than anyone. Someone who doesn't care how many people they have to kill to get it."
The silence that followed hung heavy between them. Mia could feel the weight of his words sinking in. The Syndicate wasn't the only threat they had to worry about. There was someone else—a shadow lurking in the dark, someone even more dangerous.
Just as Ethan opened his mouth to say more, the door to the storage room exploded inward, sending splinters of wood flying. The force of it threw them both back against the wall, and Mia's heart nearly stopped.
Standing in the doorway was a man Mia had never seen before. He was tall, imposing, with dark, cold eyes that gleamed in the dim light. A black suit, a white shirt—his presence was like a predator in the night, and Mia felt the chill of it deep in her bones.
"You should have stayed out of this," the man said, his voice low and controlled. "But now, you've made a mistake."
Ethan pushed Mia behind him, his face hardening. "You don't know what you're dealing with."
"Oh, I know exactly what I'm dealing with," the man replied, taking a step forward. "The Syndicate thinks they have control. But I'm the one who calls the shots now."
Mia felt her blood run cold. "Who are you?" she demanded, trying to steady her breath.
The man's lips curled into a cold, almost amused smile. "You don't need to know my name. All you need to know is that I'm here to take what's mine."
The black box.