Author's Note:
Thank you all so much for your continued support. It really means a lot and keeps me motivated to keep going. After this week, I will be taking a short break to focus on writing and preparing a batch of new chapters. Taking this time will help me maintain the quality and pacing of the story, I think.
If you are enjoying the story so far, I would truly appreciate it if you could leave a review or drop some power stones. Your feedback makes a big difference and helps more than you might think.
Now, on to the chapter!
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[David's POV]
The man with the gun stepped forward slightly.
"Where are the crates? And before you say you don't know, think twice. We already know you have powers. We know you stole the tech. So tell us."
Yup. Definitely stalling for time.
Behind him, two more figures entered the alley, their movements precise and calculated. Another figure appeared behind the woman. They were closing in from multiple directions, advancing slowly and deliberately. Their approach was coordinated, methodical. It was clear they were trying to box me in.
I needed to move. Now.
"I plead the Fifth," I said, voice steady. "And back off, mister. I do not want to kill you."
The woman spoke, her voice sharp and commanding. "Then drop the weapons."
"You are not in a position to make demands," I replied, calm and focused.
"No?" she snapped. "You are outnumbered and surrounded. You think that mask is going to save you?"
"Maybe," I said. "But I am not your enemy."
The man on my right stepped in. "You are not going anywhere until we get some answers."
I took a slow breath through the mask. "Alright. Fine. I surrender."
I lowered both guns to the ground and raised my hands, palms open.
Of course I was bluffing. Oddly this whole ordeal was making me excited for some reason.
I shifted my stance, loose and ready. Shoulders relaxed.
"On your knees," the man ordered as he stepped closer.
"Sure," I said.
Then I dropped. Just not the way he wanted.
I hit the pavement and rolled backwards.
He took that as a threat and fired. Exactly what I had hoped for.
Bullet Time activated.
The world slowed into a surreal haze.
Their movements dragged like molasses. I could see it all. The way the woman's eyes widened. The subtle shift of her weight. The pull on the trigger. The hesitation in the other agents' steps.
I pulled ten smoke grenades straight from my inventory and scattered them across the ground.
They hit with metallic clinks and hissed to life. Thick gray smoke exploded outward, choking the alley in seconds. I launched two more grenades upwards.
Visibility dropped to zero almost immediately.
I scooped up the pistols, slid Lucy back into the inventory, and drew the grapnel gun into my right hand.
Without looking back, I lobbed two live grenades through the open door I had come from.
If Sitwell and his team were coming that way, they were about to walk into fire. I was not expecting to take anyone down, but if maybe I'd get lucky and take out that bald Hydra bastard.
I aimed the grapnel gun upward and fired.
The hook shot out, scraped stone, and latched onto the rooftop edge.
I triggered the winch.
It yanked me upward with brutal force. Wind and smoke blurred the world as I rose. The alley faded beneath me, swallowed in a storm of confusion.
Then I heard it.
BOOM!
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[Third Person POV]
David landed on the rooftop with a solid thud. His boots scraped the gravel as he rolled into a crouch, absorbing the force. Smoke still clung to the air behind him, rising in gray clouds from the alley below.
He was already running as he had no time to assess and think. He crossed the rooftop in long strides, feet pounding the weathered concrete. His heartbeat thudded in his ears. He veered left, vaulted a rusted air-conditioning unit, and leapt across a narrow gap to the next rooftop.
Behind him, a voice shouted.
"Target on the roof. Move!"
David glanced back as he ran. Two figures were already climbing up from the smoke. The woman was fast. Her silhouette cut sharp through the haze, fluid and precise. The man moved with her, heavier, but just as determined.
He cursed under his breath and pushed harder, legs pumping, focus narrowed. The city stretched ahead in an endless sprawl of rooftops and fire escapes, clotheslines and exhaust vents. New York at midnight was alive beneath him, but up here it felt like a battlefield.
A chase had begun.
He cleared another ledge. Dropped a level down, caught a metal pipe, swung himself sideways, and rolled as he landed on the gravel-strewn roof of an old tenement. His hands stung from the landing. A shallow cut opened on his forearm from where he scraped a rusted nail, but he ignored it.
His mind was already calculating the path ahead. Dozens of rooftops with gaps between them. Varying elevations with potential routes scattered.
And behind him, the agents were gaining ground.
Agent 33 moved with precision. Her breath came steady through the comms earpiece. Her pistol was holstered.
"Visual on target. He's heading northeast. Gaining altitude across building spines," she said into the mic.
Ahead, David vaulted a ventilation shaft and dropped behind it. She saw the flicker of his shadow and followed without pause.
"He is fast and extremely well trained," she muttered to herself.
Two more agents cut in from a parallel rooftop, closing from the left. A fifth moved to intercept from the north. They were tightening the net.
But David moved like smoke between cracks. He launched across another gap and rolled into cover, his silhouette vanishing behind a rooftop garden canopy. Flowerpots scattered as he crashed through, breaking ceramic against concrete. But he did not stop.
Gideon's voice echoed in his ear, calm and unshaken.
"Five pursuers now. Two behind. Three closing in from alternate routes. You are nearly boxed in."
David grit his teeth. He needed an opening. Just one. A wrong step, a stumble, and they would be on him.
He dashed past a rusted door and ducked low beneath a metal awning. Pipes jutted from the wall beside him. He grabbed one and swung himself to the side, climbing quickly onto a higher ledge.
From here he could see the next building.
A narrow gap.
Three stories below.
He could not stop to calculate angles. There was no time. It was instinct now.
He backed up. A half-dozen paces. Then he sprinted.
The rooftop blurred underfoot. The wind roared past his ears.
Then he jumped.
He launched himself into the air.
Three stories down, a tar-paper roof rushed up to meet him. He twisted midair and landed in a controlled roll, shoulder slamming into the surface. Pain flared through his right arm. He grunted and staggered forward.
He kept running.
Behind him, Agent 33 did not jump. Instead, she signaled through her comm.
"Target has dropped three levels. Continuing pursuit."
The two agents on adjacent rooftops redirected. One descended via an exterior ladder, the other dropped onto a fire escape and sprinted to flank.
David was already moving.
The new rooftop was wide and flat, cluttered with satellite dishes and old storage boxes. David weaved through them at full speed, his pace relentless.
Another gap loomed ahead.
He jumped and cleared it without breaking stride.
Below, a rooftop party was in full swing. String lights glowed overhead, and a jazz band played softly in the corner. Well-dressed guests mingled and clinked glasses, oblivious to the chaos above.
David skidded to a halt and crouched low. Charging through would draw too much attention, and these people were civilians. He would not risk turning them into collateral. That was a line he refused to cross.
He ducked beneath the awning and circled along the rooftop's narrow edge, hugging the outer rim where shadows pooled against the concrete. It was the building's blind side, and it gave him the cover he needed to slip out of sight, buying a few precious seconds from the agents pursuing him.
A wine glass shattered nearby as he brushed past a table.
Someone shouted in surprise.
"Who the hell—?"
He was already gone.
David cut hard around the terrace corner, sliding slightly on the slick rooftop tiles. Behind him, he heard the low thud of boots landing, two agents having just cleared the previous rooftop and dropped in pursuit.
One of them barked into a comms unit, but David could not make out the words.
Ahead, a clothesline stretched between two vents, fluttering with laundry. A black dress slapped against his shoulder as he passed through, tangling briefly. He yanked free and ducked under a steel support beam, twisting mid-sprint to avoid colliding with it.
To his right, a fourth agent appeared as he was cutting across from a side staircase that led up from an adjacent building. The man raised his arm, clearly signaling to the others.
He spun sharply and vaulted over the nearest ledge. The gap was shorter this time, only about six feet wide, and he landed on a narrow balcony crowded with potted plants and a folded patio umbrella.
He nearly lost his balance.
The metal railing shook under his weight as he landed. He slapped one hand against the brick wall to steady himself, boots scraping across loose dirt and leaves. A sharp pain flared in his right ankle. It was not serious, but it slowed him just enough.
That half-second pause was all it took for the fifth pursuer to spot him from the upper level.
David leapt from the balcony to a nearby scaffold. The metal frame groaned beneath his weight as he landed. As he descended, he kicked one of the platforms loose. The wooden boards tumbled down behind him with a crashing noise, loud enough to draw attention. He hoped it would buy him a few seconds, maybe slow at least one of the agents.
He dropped into the narrow alley between two buildings.
The moment he hit the ground, he realized he had made a mistake.
There were two dumpsters blocking most of the space. There was no clear exit in front of him. A tall stack of construction debris blocked the path to the left. To the right, a ten-foot fence stood in his way, topped with coiled barbed wire. He was boxed in, and time was running out.
He took a few steps back and tilted his head upward.
Above him, rooftops stretched across the skyline. He could see movement. Shadows shifted against the rooftop edges. The agents were already in position.
If the agents dropped in now, David knew he would be trapped.
"Fuck me sideways. Shit," he muttered under his breath, jaw clenched.
To Be Continued...