Extra's Ascent

Identifying the situation as an act of terrorism brought with it a strange sense of clarity, if not comfort, then at least direction.

Now the next pressing question loomed: who was the intended target of this elaborate assault?

The answer, inconveniently obvious, stood right before Eric's eyes.

"What? Is something on my face?" Marvelous asked, arching a brow.

You could say that. What Eric saw on her wasn't anything physical, but an invisible cloud of suspicion thick enough to choke on. Her building. Her security. Her silence. The intricacies of the ambush made sense only if the attackers had intimate knowledge of the premises and that pointed directly to her.

It didn't take a genius to realize that Marvelous Kennedy was the reason they were all trapped here like cornered prey.

Why her? What had she done to provoke this? Eric didn't know, and honestly, he didn't care to be in the dark about it. His priority remained unchanged: protect Dravin Ramprandt at all costs.

Anything else is extra for him, baggage he could drop on a whim if push comes to shove.

"Dammit… now isn't the time for these thoughts," Eric muttered to himself. This wasn't the moment to be indulging conspiracy theories. He needed to keep his head straight and find a way out of this mess with his principal still breathing.

"The missing security team is concerning," he said aloud, more to steady himself than anything. "But that doesn't mean we should sit here, boxed in like waiting targets."

He wasn't sure if he was speaking sense or simply trying to convince himself. None of this was in his playbook. Sure, he'd had his share of dangerous encounters. Guarding Ramprandt often meant stepping into the line of fire during hostile negotiations.

But terrorism? Assassination attempts? That was an entirely new level of hell, one he had yet to step into.

Ramprandt tilted his head. "You're suggesting we step outside?"

"I told you, going out there is more dangerous tha—

Footsteps.

Marvelous's rebuttal died mid-sentence. Her head snapped toward the corridor. She heard it too.

Not a footstep, footsteps. Several of them.

Heavy and deliberate.

"Damn it!" Eric hissed. It was too late. He had warned them, urged them to act before this moment arrived, and now their chance had slipped through their fingers.

Whatever hesitation the enemy had shown before had evaporated. The invaders were on the move.

And the front door? Compromised thanks to Eric himself. He'd knocked it down earlier in haste, never expecting it to become the very path through which death would stroll in leisurely.

The slow, confident rhythm of approaching boots escalated the dread knotting in all their stomachs. Each second dragged like a noose tightening around their throats.

Then, they arrived.

Figures emerged through the open entrance, their presence filling the space like a shadow. One by one, they flooded in, spreading across the penthouse interior with clinical precision. They wore black from head to toe, military in demeanour and equipment. Each carried advanced firearms, sleek, deadly, and aimed with practised discipline.

Their numbers were not just intimidating, they were overwhelming.

"Hide and seek's over, folks. Time to show yourselves," came a voice, casual yet cutting, from the front.

The leader.

Eric didn't recognize him, but the man's tone oozed control. Eric knew a commander when he saw one.

Moving cautiously, Eric raised his head and came out from his hiding spot, Ramprandt and Marvelous soon following in his steps.

"Oh, we've got one," the stranger said with a grin. "And there's another…" His gaze shifted to Ramprandt. "And yet another." He nodded toward Marvelous, who emerged last.

Eric decided to surface early because there was no use hiding, not when they had been surrounded by armed folks who looked ready to go gun blazing when orders required them to.

More figures filed in behind the man who had spoken, but he remained distinct, dressed in casual clothes that starkly contrasted with his heavily armed entourage. A white shirt with rolled sleeves, loose dark pants, not a care in the world. That alone made him more unsettling than any of the masked soldiers.

"Silver hair with faint streaks of blue… and those glowing eyes with an odd pattern. "I take it you are the mystic bodyguard, right?" the man said, pointing directly at Eric. "The one we're supposed to be extra cautious around?"

Eric stiffened. 'He knows me?' The realization was jarring. Whoever this man was, he wasn't just a grunt. He had intel on Eric and his stance as a mystic.

"I see it, I can feel the confusion. A proper introduction should clear the air," the man continued, taking a bold step forward. "Call me Hector. My friends go with 'Heck,' but you three won't be around long enough to earn that luxury."

'What the Hector…' Eric resisted the mental jab. Now wasn't the time for humour, tempting as it was.

"Does that clear the fog, or do you have more questions floating around?" Hector asked, smirking.

Every word he spoke made the air heavier.

"Oh, and you're probably wondering why my colleagues and I have graced your lovely home today?" he added, gesturing broadly to the group surrounding them.

Eric wasn't answering. He was too busy calculating. Every path to escape ended in a bloodbath. Too many guns. Too many trained shooters. Too many personals to move past!

If he were alone, he could've made a run for it, maybe even fought his way out with bruises and scratches. He would at the least escape.

However, he had Ramprandt and Marvelous and they weren't combatants, in this, they would be liabilities in any skirmish.

All of this was assuming Hector was just a man.

Eric's instincts told him otherwise.

'If it were just the goons in black, I might've stood a chance,' Eric thought grimly. 'But with Hector here…'

"What we want is surprisingly simple," Hector announced cheerfully. "Nothing too dramatic. Easy, even. Like snatching a lollipop from a toddler."

He chuckled, the sound twisted.

"And that simple thing?" His smile widened, unblinking. "Is your lives."