Sia POV

I slid my hand along the cold, sterile floor, fingers brushing against the handle of a nearby BPO agent’s sidearm. With a swift motion, I grabbed it, cocked the hammer, and fired. Five bullets tore through the throats of the agents surrounding me, each collapsing with a soft gurgle as their blood sprayed the floor. Blue blood, like mine. The realization barely registered—I was too wired, too full of adrenaline and cocaine. Survival was the only thing on my mind. 

I snatched up their weapons—assault rifles, pistols, a spare knife—and ran for the exit. My muscles burned, my lungs ached, but I kept pushing. The shrill alarm ripped...