Chapter 238: 238 | Interesting Night for a Walk, Monroe
I shouldered the backpack. The weight settled across my spine like destiny.
We slipped out into the corridor. Belle’s door clicked shut behind us with a soft finality that sounded way too much like a coffin closing.
Misato led us toward the stairwell instead of the elevator. Smart. Fewer cameras in the stairs. Our footsteps echoed in the concrete shaft as we descended, and I kept waiting for voices, shouts, the sound of guards storming up to meet us.
Nothing.
Just our breathing and the distant hum of the building’s ventilation system.
We hit the ground floor and Misato cracked the door, peering out into the lobby. "Two students at the vending machines. We wait."
So we waited. Pressed against the wall in the stairwell, breathing quietly while my heart tried to hammer its way out of my ribs.
The students took forever. Debating snack choices like their lives depended on it. Finally they grabbed their shit and left.
"Now."
We crossed the lobby fast. Not running. Running drew attention. Just moving with purpose like we belonged there.
Outside, the California night wrapped around us. Cooler now. The campus had gone quiet except for distant voices from the quad where students still hung around despite the hour.
Misato checked her phone. "Twelve seventeen. We’ve got until one before the next security sweep hits the north end."
"That’s forty-three minutes to get there, replace the crystal, and get out."
"Cutting it close."
"Story of my life."
We moved north along the darkest paths, avoiding the main walkways where lights blazed. Misato knew every blind spot, every gap in camera coverage, every shadow deep enough to hide two people moving fast.
The girl had clearly done this before.
"You’re good at this," I said quietly.
"Blair sneaks out twice a week. Someone has to cover her tracks."
"She knows you do that?"
"She pretends not to. I pretend I don’t. It works."
We reached the tree line separating Zone Four from the restricted area. The fence loomed ahead, chain-link topped with razor wire and warning signs that glowed faint red in the darkness.
The hole Belle had cut was still there. Obvious as hell if anyone actually looked.
Misato dropped to her knees and crawled through. I followed with the backpack, trying not to think about how the crystal felt heavier now. Like it knew we were returning it.
Like it was disappointed in us.
The restricted section stretched ahead. Trees grew thicker here, older, their branches forming a canopy that blocked most of the moonlight. The path wound between them toward the vault building, a squat concrete structure that looked more like a bunker than storage.
My Treasure Sense flared. The crystal hummed in the backpack, responding to proximity to its home.
We were halfway there when Misato grabbed my arm and yanked me behind a tree.
Two guards walked past. Twenty meters away. Flashlights sweeping through the undergrowth in lazy arcs.
We pressed flat against the trunk. I held my breath.
The guards kept talking. Something about the morning shift and whether the cafeteria would have decent coffee. Their voices faded as they moved east.
"Close," Misato whispered.
"Too close."
"It gets worse from here. They’ve doubled patrols."
Great.
We waited another thirty seconds before moving again. The vault building came into view through the trees. Lights blazed around its perimeter now, way more than before. Guards stood at each corner.
Misato cursed quietly. "They’re on high alert."
"Can we still get in?"
"Maybe. If we’re really lucky and really quiet."
I checked the time. 12:41 AM.
Nineteen minutes before the sweep.
"There." Misato pointed to the north entrance. The same one Belle had used. "Guard rotation happens at 12:55. When they switch, there’s a gap. Four minutes instead of six now, but it’ll have to work."
"Four minutes to disable wards, open the vault, replace the crystal, and get out?"
"Unless you’ve got a better plan."
I looked at the guards. Looked at the lights. Looked at the backpack holding one hundred thousand credits worth of glowing evidence.
"Let’s do it."
We circled wide, staying low and moving through the deepest shadows. My new clothes actually helped. Black jeans, dark compression shirt. Way better than the baggy shit I’d been wearing when I first arrived.
Aurora’s shopping spree was paying dividends in unexpected ways.
We reached a cluster of bushes about thirty meters from the north entrance. Crouched. Waited.
The guards changed shift at exactly 12:55. Three walking away. Three approaching from the east path. The gap opened between them like a door.
"Go."
We sprinted.
Thirty meters felt like three hundred. Every footfall sounded like thunder in my ears. The backpack bounced against my spine, the crystal inside humming with that weird pulse that made my teeth ache.
We hit the entrance and I pulled out my palm, gathering Wave Motion energy.
The first ward shimmered into view. Blue and angry.
I pulsed it. Once. The barrier flickered but held.
"Faster," Misato hissed. "We’ve got ninety seconds."
I pulsed again. Harder. The ward rippled like water disturbed by a stone.
Third pulse. The barrier shattered silently, dissolving into mist.
Second ward. Red and jagged.
This one took three pulses and most of my remaining stamina. My bar dropped to thirty percent. My hands started shaking from the sustained output.
The ward collapsed.
Third ward. The layered nightmare.
Misato pulled out Belle’s disruptor from somewhere. How she’d gotten it I had no idea and didn’t want to know.
"On three," she said. "You pulse. I crack the frequency."
"One."
I gathered what little energy I had left.
"Two."
The golden light built between my fingers, barely a flicker compared to what I could normally manage.
"Three."
I fired. She twisted. The ward screamed, a sound like nails on glass multiplied by a thousand, and collapsed inward.
The vault door stood before us. Already open.
Someone had beaten us here.
Misato and I looked at each other.
"Abort?" I asked.
"Too late." She pushed the door wider. "We’re committed."
The vault interior was exactly as I remembered. Shelves. Artifacts. The pedestal at the center.
Empty.
The containment field was down. The crystal’s home sat dark and vacant.
My brain stuttered. "Where—"
"Looking for this?"
I spun.
Dominic Vale stood in the doorway. Silver hair catching the vault’s emergency lighting. Heterochromatic eyes glowing behind those stupid designer sunglasses he wore even at night.
In his hand, spinning lazily, was a second Platinum crystal. Identical to the one in my backpack.
"Interesting night for a walk, Monroe."
