The breach didn't hold.
It shattered.
Metal tore apart under pressure, fragments ripping outward as bodies surged forward through the opening. The air outside rushed in like the facility itself had exhaled its last breath.
Freedom.
Or chaos.
Maybe both.
"NO ONE LEAVES THIS ROOM!"
The voice cut through everything.
Sharp.
Commanding.
Unbreakable.
Terry moved.
One moment he was grounded—
The next, he launched upward.
Higher than any normal man should.
Higher than physics allowed.
His body arced over the escaping group—
Then came down hard.
Impact.
The ground cracked beneath him as he landed in front of them, blocking the exit completely.
Dust rose.
Air shifted.
And for a brief moment—
Everything paused.
"No one leaves," Terry said, voice low but carrying weight.
His eyes swept across them.
Fire user.
Slime user.
Others—unstable, uncertain, dangerous.
"At least… not now."
A hiss broke the silence.
The slime user stepped forward slowly, shoulders relaxed, expression almost amused.
"…Stop me."
He took a step.
Then another.
Completely unbothered.
Like Terry wasn't even there.
Terry didn't speak again.
Didn't warn him.
Didn't threaten.
He moved.
The strike came fast—
Too fast.
Too clean.
Terry's fist drove forward with crushing force.
Impact.
For a split second—
Everything slowed.
The slime user's body bent around the blow—
Not breaking—
But distorting.
His expression shifted—
From confidence—
To shock.
The force carried through him.
His feet left the ground.
The air around him seemed to ripple as the impact fully registered—
Then—
He was gone.
Launched backward.
His body slammed into the far wall—
Hard.
Too hard.
The surface cracked on impact—
Fragments breaking loose as he dropped from it—
Hitting the ground with a heavy, final thud.
Silence followed.
Short.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
Then everything exploded.
"MOVE!"
"GET OUT—!"
"RUN!"
They rushed him.
Not as a group.
Not as a team.
But as chaos itself.
Terry stepped forward.
And met them head-on.
Elsewhere—
Sir Ferguson didn't wait for confirmation.
He was already moving.
"Say that again."
His voice was tight, controlled—but the urgency beneath it was impossible to hide.
"They've breached containment, sir," his secretary said quickly, struggling to keep pace beside him. "Multiple hostiles, active powers, structural damage—"
"That's enough."
They reached the SUV.
Doors opened.
They got in.
"Drive."
The engine roared to life.
"What's our response team status?" Ferguson asked.
"Delayed," she replied. "The situation escalated too quickly."
Ferguson looked out the window.
Jaw tight.
"…Of course it did."
The vehicle sped forward.
Straight toward the facility.
Toward chaos.
Miles away—
Kade lay on his bed, staring at his phone.
The screen glowed faintly in the dim room.
Five days off.
That's what they gave him.
Five days to "recover."
He scoffed lightly.
He couldn't afford that.
Not with hospital bills.
Not with his mom.
He sat up, tapping his screen, dialing quickly.
"Yeah, it's Kade… I'll be in tomorrow."
A pause.
"…Yeah, I know. I just—yeah."
He ended the call.
Dropped the phone beside him.
It rang again.
Marcus.
Kade picked up.
"What's up?"
"You alive?"
Kade smirked slightly.
"Apparently."
Marcus chuckled.
"How's your mom?"
Kade's expression softened.
"…She's worried."
A pause.
"She won't stop thinking about it. The whole… incident."
Marcus sighed.
"Yeah. That makes sense."
Kade leaned back slightly.
"She acts like if she looks away for a second, something's gonna happen again."
Silence.
Then—
"Take her out."
Kade blinked.
"What?"
"Yeah. Dinner or something. Get her mind off it."
Kade exhaled lightly.
"…Maybe."
Marcus smirked on the other end.
"And you need the practice anyway."
Kade frowned.
"For what?"
"For when you finally get a girlfriend."
"…Hang up."
Marcus laughed.
"Just saying—don't be awkward when it finally happens."
Click.
Kade stared at the phone for a second.
Then lay back.
Staring at the ceiling.
Thinking.
Back at the facility—
Everything had broken loose.
Terry moved like a wall that refused to fall.
The fire user came first.
Flames roaring louder than before, spreading wildly as he charged forward.
"You think you can stop all of us?!"
Terry didn't answer.
He stepped in—
Took the hit.
Fire slammed into him, heat ripping across his hardened skin—
Cracks formed instantly—
Then held.
Terry drove forward—
His shoulder slamming into the fire user—
Sending him skidding across the ground, flames scattering in violent bursts.
Another came in from the side—
Fast.
Too fast.
Terry turned—
Just in time.
A strike landed across his ribs—
Hard enough to push him back.
His armor cracked again—
Deeper this time.
Then rebuilt.
Slow.
Grinding.
"You're not leaving," Terry said, breath steady despite the pressure.
The slime user rose again.
Slowly.
Wiping blood from his mouth.
Eyes darker now.
Focused.
"…That hurt."
He lifted both hands this time.
The substance surged outward—
Thicker.
Faster.
More aggressive.
It wrapped around Terry's leg—
Trying to pull.
Trying to restrain.
Terry reacted instantly—
Driving his fist downward—
Breaking the hold—
But more followed.
Another attacked from behind—
A burst of force that sent Terry forward—
Straight into the fire user again.
Impact.
This time—
They crashed through the wall.
Concrete exploded outward.
Dust filled the air.
Light poured in.
They were no longer underground.
They were inside the main facility.
Alarms screamed.
Workers ran.
Doors slammed.
Panic spread like wildfire.
"GET OUT—!"
"EVACUATE!"
Terry didn't stop.
Didn't slow.
They came again.
All of them now.
Eight.
At once.
Different powers.
Different angles.
No coordination.
Just raw aggression.
Terry fought.
Blocked one—
Took another—
Turned—
Struck—
Moved—
Endured—
His armor shattered in places—
Reformed—
Shattered again—
Each hit taking something—
Each rebuild slower than before.
Still—
He didn't fall.
"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!" someone shouted.
Terry didn't respond.
Because he already knew.
If they got out—
If this spread—
There would be no stopping it.
Another hit—
Stronger this time—
Sent him crashing through another wall—
And suddenly—
They were outside.
Open air.
Freedom.
And the world saw them.
People screamed.
Cars screeched to a halt.
Phones dropped.
Bodies ran in every direction.
Chaos spilled into the streets.
A car was lifted—
Thrown—
Crashing into another with a deafening impact.
Fire spread across the pavement.
Glass shattered.
Terry stepped forward again.
Between them.
And everyone else.
"…No further."
Sir Ferguson's SUV slowed.
Then stopped.
He looked out.
And saw it.
Everything he feared.
Uncontrolled power.
Public exposure.
Total collapse of secrecy.
His jaw tightened.
"…We're too late."
Outside—
Terry was still fighting.
Still holding.
Still standing.
But even he knew—
This wasn't containment anymore.
This was survival.
Ferguson leaned back slightly.
Silent for a moment.
Then—
"…Drive."
His secretary turned sharply.
"Sir—?"
"Drive."
The SUV moved.
Leaving the chaos behind.
Leaving them—
To it.
Outside—
The city screamed.
And Terry stood in the middle of it all.
Alone.
Against eight.
Against fire.
Against fear.