The tunnels cracked open behind them, whole sections of the ceiling collapsing, sparks shooting from broken generators. The lights flickered like strobe flashes. Metal shrieked. At one point, a whole train car dropped from the ceiling like a meteor and skidded across the lower tracks, taking out another platoon.

This time, speed mattered, instinct mattered, but luck mattered the most.

And speed was the only thing Xavier had plenty of.

Heroic forces pushed him forward through a broken maintenance shaft that rattled with every step they took. The whole shaft shook like a dying animal, the steel beams creaking overhead, dust falling into their faces. They climbed the side ladder, emerged onto one of the upper rail bridges, and immediately had to jump aside as a half-collapsed passenger train slid past them before crashing into a support pillar.

AstraNova grabbed Xavier's wrist again. "Don't stop. Keep moving. The moment we hesitate— we die."

He didn't argue.

But the station wasn't done trying to kill them.

A new presence hit the battlefield.

It didn't arrive with explosions. No dramatic entrance. Just a silhouette at the far end of the rail bridge, standing in the scattered glow of broken rail lights.

One man wearing black armor.

No squad around him. No support. Just the Evil faction colors glowing faintly on his collar.

But the moment he stepped forward, Heroic players started screaming.

"WHO THE—"

"He wiped our whole left flank!"

"He killed forty people in thirty seconds—"

"THAT'S HIM— THAT'S THE ONE—"

"THE ROGUE— HE'S BACK—"

The rogue player moved without hesitation, firing with one hand, his shots so damn precise that every bolt hit a head or a joint or a power core. He shot like he'd played this game for decades. He cut through Heroic players like they were nothing.

The MVPs tried to stop him.

One of the shield-tanks charged him first. The rogue player slid under the swing, shot the tank's ankle joint twice, and the tank fell forward. The rogue put a round through the visor and kept moving before the body even hit the ground.

Another MVP—HeartCore—blocked the bridge with his full shield deployed.

The rogue player didn't slow.

He vaulted straight over him, hit the ground behind, and stabbed HeartCore through the power pack, causing the shield to explode backward and take out three Heroic players with it.

AstraNova faced him next.

She moved fast, blades ready, body angled low. He didn't back away or hesitate.

Their clash shook the whole bridge.

She swung at him, he ducked; he swung at her, she deflected. Sparks shot off their weapons. He kicked her back so hard she slid ten meters before digging her heels in.

She wiped the blood off her chin, stared at him, and lunged again.

He caught her wrist mid-strike, twisted it and shoved her aside. Then, he shot her shield-pack, making it explode in a burst of blue light that knocked her into the rail support beams.

Her squad screamed her name. But she didn't get up.

Evil and Heroic players both stopped fighting to stare.

Even they were terrified of him.

The rogue player didn't say a word. He just walked through the chaos like he was walking home.

Heroic forces still alive grabbed Xavier again, desperately shielding him while the rogue kept advancing. Someone yelled for backup. Someone else yelled to fall back. AstraNova tried to stand and got shot in the knee and dropped again.

They ran.

The fanboy from before rejoined them. Somehow he'd made it through all three phases alive, though he was limping hard, blood running down the side of his head. He still threw himself in front of Xavier without hesitation.

"THIS WAY—" he shouted.

"GO— I GOT YOU—"

The rogue appeared behind them.

The fanboy turned and faced him, raising his rifle even though he could barely hold it straight.

"Y—you're not touching him," he said. His voice shook. "You hear me? Not one step—"

The rogue shot him through the chest before he finished.

The fanboy's eyes widened as he dropped his gun, and dropped to his knees. He turned his head toward Xavier and smiled faintly, the same stupid smile he'd worn since the first time he promised he'd protect him.

"Worth it… sir…"

He fell forward and disappeared.

Xavier didn't even have time to react. The tunnel behind them collapsed, forcing the remaining Heroic players to push him toward the newly marked evac point. The map shook again as more structures cracked, metal screeching like the whole metro had decided to tear itself apart at once.

And then Xavier was alone.

He hadn't noticed the moment his guards fell away.

One blink and the world narrowed to a single, long rail corridor. Broken lights. Sparks. Loose cables swinging from the ceiling. And the evac gate flickering at the far end, one last unstable shimmer of gold.

He ran.

For the first time, he actually ran.

The smoke burned his eyes. He had cuts across his arms from the falling debris. His clothes were torn in a few places. Nothing serious, nothing that slowed him down, but enough to sting with every movement.

He climbed a collapsed walkway, jumped over burning panels, ducked under a sparking pipe that burst just as he passed it—

And finally reached the last clearing before the gate.

Someone was already standing there.

The rogue.

He wasn't fighting anymore.

His gun hung loosely in one hand, his body relaxed, head slightly lowered like he'd been waiting for Xavier for a while.

He looked at Xavier, and just studied him the same way Xavier studied the battlefield.

Xavier didn't break eye contact. He walked toward him until there were only a few meters between them.

The timer in the corner flashed.

[10 seconds.]

"Who are you? You are clearly skilled, so why are you only appearing now and not in the other two phases?" Xavier asked with a curious look on his face.

The rogue lifted his gun and pointed it at Xavier's head.

For a moment, it looked like he was about to finish everything.