The single-horn's corpse hit the platform with a wet thud, the hole in its chest still smoking from Noah's void bullet. But before anyone could even process the kill, alarms began shrieking through the facility like the sound of reality breaking apart.
Noah didn't celebrate. Didn't even smile. He was already scanning the upper levels of the facility, watching as massive shadows moved behind industrial lighting. His mind was cataloguing threats, calculating angles, processing the tactical nightmare they'd just walked into.
"Shit," he said quietly, and that single word carried more weight than most people's entire speeches.
Three single-horns dropped through access shafts with impacts that sent shockwaves through the entire structure. Metal groaned. Support beams buckled. And one of the creatures, the largest of the three, fixed its predatory gaze directly on Noah.
