SSS-Class Profession: The Path to Mastery-Chapter 250: Signal in the Snow

We didn’t stop moving.

Not when our lungs clawed at the inside of our ribs for air. Not when every footfall sent fresh pain ricocheting through our bones. Not even when the corridors grew darker—when the overhead lights dimmed to a faint, flickering pulse, like the heartbeat of some dying machine that no longer remembered what it meant to keep people alive.

Camille sagged deeper into Sienna’s side with every step. Her feet scuffed across the linoleum, more dragged than walked, painting a quiet, staggered trail behind us—one that any half-conscious tracker could follow. And someone would.

Eventually.

Alexis glanced over her shoulder, breath hitching in shallow bursts. "We need to rest soon," she murmured, barely louder than a thought. Her eyes rapidly looking at us as she checked vitals or motion scans or whatever data only she could access. Even her voice had gone hoarse with tension.

I scanned the corridor ahead, vision narrowing through the haze of pain pulsing from my thigh. Then—finally—relief: a door.

"There," I said, forcing the word through clenched teeth. I pointed.

Up ahead, tucked into a recessed alcove of reinforced walls, was a doorway. Heavier than the rest. Twin magnetic locks. One of them flickering red, the other cracked open like someone had left in a hurry. Above it, the metal placard had been half-gouged out, but I recognized the skeletal layout embossed beneath the scratches.

Security.

Sienna didn’t hesitate. Her grip on Camille tightened as she picked up her pace, practically carrying her over her head now. I stumbled after them, each breath flaring my leg with fire. It felt like I was walking on broken glass stuffed under skin. I didn’t slow down.

We reached the door.

Alexis raised a fist, halting us. Her head tilted to the side, listening. Every muscle in her body went still.

Then the silence shattered.

Footsteps.

It was two sets that were fast, controlled and worst of all...close.

Coming straight down the corridor.

"Inside," I whispered.

Sienna and Alexis slipped in first, vanishing into the shadowed room. I ducked in just as two guards rounded the far corner—standard black armor, weapons at low ready. They moved in staggered formation, eyes already sweeping the hallway with mechanical precision.

"Clear this hall," one of them barked. Clipped vowels. Military-trained. Not casual patrol. This was an active sweep. They knew someone had been here.

We didn’t wait.

Alexis moved first.

She was gone from my side and at the doorway in a breath. Her foot hooked the edge of the console desk and launched her into motion—low, quick, silent. The first guard turned too slow. Her elbow crashed into his temple with a wet crack. He buckled instantly, collapsing sideways into the wall with a stifled grunt.

The second one reacted faster.

But not fast enough.

I lunged, forcing my leg to obey despite the scream it ripped from my nerves. I hit him center mass, shoulder-first. The impact knocked the breath from both of us, and we hit the ground hard. His helmet clanged against the floor, disoriented but still fighting.

His arm twisted up—reaching for his sidearm.

I drove my elbow straight down into his throat.

Once.

Twice.

He went limp.

The room fell still again. Only our breathing filled the space now—ragged, uneven, exhausted.

We dragged the bodies inside, not bothering with finesse. Alexis stripped their comm units and sidearms while I barricaded the door with a metal console chair and a broken length of support pipe jammed into the locking mechanism.

Camille was barely conscious. Sienna guided her to a cushioned bench against the far wall and eased her down like she was made of glass. Her head lolled, eyes fluttering with shallow, disjointed awareness.

She murmured something under her breath—my name maybe, or Sienna’s—but whatever it was dissolved into sleep before it fully left her mouth.

The room buzzed with residual warmth. Four monitors flickered against the wall, all active.

Alexis leaned over the controls. "Local camera feeds. Interior wings. Sublevel tunnels. Upper ventilation shafts. External weather monitor. This is full Tier 3 clearance."

I moved beside her, hand resting against the console for support. Sienna knelt by Camille, checking her pulse again.

"Anything on Anthony or Evelyn?" I asked.

Alexis scanned through feeds quickly. A flash of motion on one monitor caught her attention. She tapped it.

Two figures. One broad-shouldered, looking a bit injured with a ripped up Hawaiian t-shirt. The other smaller, with long blond hair and a familiar limp.

Anthony. Evelyn.

They were alive. On a lower floor—Sublevel 3, west quadrant. Surrounded by locked doors and broken lighting.

"We can get to them," Alexis said, voice steady. "But it’ll take time. And more blood if we’re not careful."

I turned to the last feed.

Outside.

A dozen cameras. Each mounted on concrete towers or recessed into walls. But they all showed the same thing:

Snow.

Mountains.

Cold, jagged ridgelines shrouded in mist. The facility was buried in a remote outpost somewhere well beyond civilization. No roads. No tracks. Just a pale white desert.

"This isn’t mainland," I muttered. "Could be arctic. Maybe northern tundra. We’re going to need an escape plan too."

"This is fully off-grid," Alexis confirmed. "Deep enough so that nobody can escape or call for help."

I clenched my jaw. Then something on the screen shifted.

One of the internal doors opened.

No one was there.

"That hallway was clear," Alexis said.

I leaned in. Rewound. Watched again.

The door hissed open—slow, deliberate.

Empty frame.

No movement.

But there was a shadow and the lights inside flickered as if something had passed through.

"Did we miss it?" Sienna asked.

"No," I said slowly. "It’s not a delay. That door opened in real-time."

A chill crawled down my spine.

I glanced again. No distortion. No blur. Nothing that hinted at a figure cloaked or invisible.

But the door had moved.

The sensors had reacted. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

And the feed didn’t lie.

I stared at the monitor for a long moment, then said aloud:

"Are they actually invisible to cameras?"

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