"You think the General won’t come for you?" the man with the pipe asked, trying for brave and missing.

"We’ll be gone," Elias answered. "You’ll still be here, explaining why you lost an entire mall to five people and a dog."

Luci growled low, clearly offended at being called a dog. The pipe man’s mouth shut tight.

Sera turned to the quiet girl. "You can come shopping with us, tell the General everything that we took, and give him an explanation of what happened so you don’t get in trouble with him later," she offered. "Or stay here and try to fill in the blanks. Your choice."

The girl blinked, surprised. "You don’t even know me."

"You tried to get the glossy woman to stop. Just because she didn’t listen isn’t your fault," Sera replied with almost a kind smile. "That’s enough for me to try and save your life."

The girl looked at the men around her. No one reached for her. No one said her name. She hugged the binder harder and gave a small nod. "Okay."

"Name?" Elias asked.

"June."

"Stay close, June," Zubair told her. "And do exactly what I say. If you take a step out of place, I will kill you."

She nodded again, quick.

Sera faced the men staring at them in weariness. "We’re done here," she announced to no one in particular. She turned and headed for the next wing of the mall as if the body on the tile was just another broken sign.

The bat man stepped aside. The pipe man stepped back. The fourth moved to the wall and tried to become part of it.

They walked. Zubair kept Sera midline, Elias a step back on the right, Alexei on the left, Lachlan half a pace forward and still flexing his hand like he was testing a new joint.

Luci matched Sera’s knee, quiet and loaded.

At the corner, Zubair slowed. He lifted a palm. "Hold."

He checked the cross-corridor. There was a single figure at the very back of one of the kiosks, crouched behind a register, trying his best to be invisible.

Too bad for him, he stuck out like a sore thumb.

Zubair nodded right. "There."

"Tarps," Elias noted. "Bins. Rope."

"Good," Sera said, and stepped into the wing.

They were ten paces in when a distant stampede trembled the floor. Not boots. Not bikes. The sound rolled under the tile like a held breath.

Zubair lifted his head. The hair on his arms prickled. He looked to the skylight. The shaft of light held steady, bright and square.

"It’s still daylight," he said, shaking his head.

"Then it’s not night," Elias returned. "There has to be something else we need."

A voice carried thin from the far end—a guard calling out numbers to someone they couldn’t see. Another voice answered, angry and afraid. The words blurred under the echo.

"We’ll make it quick," Zubair decided. "In, out."

Sera moved faster. June kept at her shoulder, completely silent, and her eyes wide.

They hit the entrance. The gate was already half up. Zubair ducked under and scanned. No immediate threat. He waved them in.

"Fill two carts," Elias said. "Tarps, bins, cord, tape."

"Why bother with the carts?" Sera asked, raising an eyebrow at June. "After all, we want everything to be recorded properly, right?"

June nodded and clutched the binder.

Sera brushed a hand along a stack of clear totes. The top row disappeared without a sound. She didn’t look at anyone while she did it. She touched another stack. Gone. She walked and touched, walked and took—casual and clean.

June watched her with the careful attention of someone learning a new language. She didn’t speak. She didn’t point. She simply stayed close and kept breathing softly.

"Footsteps," Alexei called, low. "Back hall."

Lachlan slid to cover. "How many?"

"Three. Maybe four."

"Let them pass," Zubair ordered. "No use starting over."

They waited ten seconds. The footsteps faded.

"Go," Zubair said.

They moved again.

Elias tossed a bundle of rope to Alexei. Alexei caught it one-handed and dropped it into a cart, making it look like they were properly shopping. Lachlan kicked a stack of dented buckets straight and loaded the best of them. Luci took up the rear, head high, listening for the wrong noise.

They were almost back to the hall when the bat man’s voice echoed down from the court, higher than before. "You can’t keep going! You were told the rules, and now you have to obey them or die."

Sera didn’t slow. "Watch us," she said with a slight smirk. "And I can promise you, I am very, very hard to kill."

"Stop, or we’ll—"

Lachlan didn’t even turn. He lifted his hand and snapped another tight bolt into the ceiling above the court entrance. The thunder rolled. Plaster sifted. The shout cut off.

Lachlan glanced at his palm. "Still works," he said, almost pleased.

Zubair didn’t smile, but the corner of his mouth tried. "Door," he told him.

They reached the threshold. The bat man and his crew stood ten yards back, skins pale, weapons down, eyes tracking the blue that still threaded Lachlan’s wrist.

Sera set her weight, swept the court with one cool look, and spoke once. "Last chance."

No one tried her.

The sound of the mall held still—dust, air vents, the quiet after thunder. No one wanted to move first.

Zubair let the silence stand another beat before saying, "Back to the wing. We finish what we came for."

They turned, calm and deliberate, and walked back through the service hall. The bat man stayed where he was, mouth tight, knuckles white around the handle of his bat. No one followed.

Sera didn’t rush. She brushed her glove against the wall as she passed, making one more rack of sealed bins vanish without ceremony. June stayed close, breathing shallow and fast, but keeping up.

Lachlan flexed his fingers again, the faint blue still chasing under his skin. "That never gets old," he murmured.

Elias gave him a dry look. "Try not to redecorate the ceiling again."

"No promises."

They reached the edge of the main mall entrance.

Light fell in a square through the cracked skylight. June hugged her binder tighter and glanced toward the broken escalator. No movement there. For the moment, the mall belonged to them.

Zubair moved to the front of the group, scanning the corridors. He’d already walked every angle twice, but habit kept him working. "Two more minutes," he said. "Then we’re done."

"Not arguing," Elias replied, checking his watch even though they all knew that it wasn’t working anymore. Well, he guessed it worked twice a day, he just didn’t know when that was either.

Sera crouched near a display table, lifted a strip of duct tape, and made it vanish into her pocket. "Almost finished," she said. "We’ll leave less of a mess this time."

"That’d be a first," Lachlan muttered, but the grin stayed.

The floor trembled once—light, distant, but real. Not thunder. Not the same kind of weight that came from inside the mall.

Zubair froze, head up. "Engines," he said.

Elias went still. "How many?"

"More than one. Coming fast."

Sera straightened slowly, her head tilted toward the entrance. The shaft of sunlight there pulsed with motion—dust curling, drifting differently than before. A low rumble reached them, building from the outside lot.

"Company," Zubair confirmed.

Lachlan cracked his knuckles and smiled. "Perfect timing."

Sera turned toward the sound, her eyes steady as she cocked her head to the side. "Do you think they going to be upset with how much we took?" she asked quietly, the words more humor than threat.

"Either way," Zubair answered, checking his rifle’s safety, "we’re ready for them."

The rumble outside deepened—truck engines, heavy and practiced. Shadows moved against the glass doors.

Zubair took position at the front, Elias falling a step behind on the right, Alexei covering left, Lachlan a half-pace forward. Luci’s growl rolled under the noise like a warning.

The light from outside flared once, white and blinding.

Boots hit tile.

And six silhouettes entered the mall.