The portal was shrinking.

Seraph could see it from the collapsing prison block. The timer in her head was saying they had maybe ninety seconds before it closed completely.

Ninety seconds while carrying two unconscious bodies and being chased by six of Sterling's killers.

"Move faster!" she shouted at Kira and Torres, who were struggling with Thorne's dead weight.

Behind them, the Beta-Class Weavers were catching up with them. Each one summoned their Progeny as they ran.

A blade of solid shadow shot past Seraph's head, missing her by inches. She didn't dare look back. She couldn't slow down. Draven was getting heavier in her arms.

"Stay with me," she said to him. "You don't get to die after pulling off something that stupid."

His only response was a pained groan.

CRACK.

One of the walls exploded as the force from the dimension became too much for it to handle. The facility was destroying itself from the inside out. That quantum lock had been the keystone holding everything together. Without it, the pocket dimension was collapsing.

"Sixty seconds!" Torres shouted, checking his chronometer while somehow still running.

A damaged part of floor suddenly broke under Kira's feet. She stumbled, nearly dropping Thorne. Torres caught him just in time, but the delay cost them precious distance.

The Weavers closed in.

Seraph made a decision. She couldn't fight while carrying Draven. But she also couldn't let those things catch up to her team.

"Torres, Kira, take him!" She pushed Draven toward them. "Get through that portal. Don't stop. Don't look back."

"Captain, you can't..."

"That's an order!"

She turned to face them, pulling her gun in a smooth motion. The lead Weaver raised her hand. Her Progeny, something serpentine and deadly, coiled around her arm.

Seraph fired three times. They were shots that would have dropped any normal person.

The bullets stopped in midair. Frozen by some invisible force. Then they dropped to the ground.

"Of course you have shields," Seraph said in a low voice.

But the shots had accomplished their real purpose. The Weavers slowed. They formed a tactical line, treating her as an actual threat instead of just prey to chase down.

That hesitation bought her team few seconds.

It would have to be enough.

"Is that all you've got?" Seraph yelled to provoke them, backing toward the portal. "Sterling's perfect weapons, and you can't even catch a middle-aged woman?"

The Weavers didn't respond. They just adjusted their formation and moved towards her.

"Thirty seconds!" Torres shouted from behind her.

Seraph turned and ran.

She ran faster than she had ever run in her life. It felt as if all her training and missions had been getting her ready for this moment. The portal was so close now. Just another twenty yards.

Fifteen.

Ten.

A shadow blade hit her shoulder. She felt the pain but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop.

Five yards.

Torres and Kira were already through, dragging Thorne and Draven with them. The portal was shrinking faster now.

Three yards.

Seraph dove.

She felt the edge of the dimensional barrier brush against her boots as she went through.

Then she was on the warehouse floor, gasping and bleeding, but still alive.

SNAP.

The portal sealed itself. Behind it, the Iso-Cube continued its collapse, trapped forever in its dying pocket dimension.

"Everyone okay?" Seraph forced herself to sit up, checking her team.

Torres was pale but uninjured. Kira had a cut on her forehead but was already applying pressure. Thorne lay unconscious but breathing. And Draven...

Draven looked terrible.

His skin was grey. The golden aura that usually surrounded him was gone, leaving him looking strangely naked.

"Get a medic," Seraph ordered. "Now!"

Kira ran for the door.

Seraph crawled over to Draven, pressing her hands against his chest. His heartbeat was so weak she could barely feel it.

"Don't you dare," she said quietly. "Don't you dare give up after surviving that."

His eyes opened a bit. "Did we get him?"

"Yeah. We got Thorne. Mission accomplished."

"Good." he said with a small smile on his face. "Told you... I could break... the unbreakable..."

"You're an idiot."

"Best kind... to be..."

His eyes closed again. This time, they didn't open back.

The medic team arrived five minutes later. They lifted Draven onto a stretcher, hooked him up to machines and started pumping him with healing potions and stimulants. The lead medic, a tough looking woman named Santos, didn't look hopeful about his condition.

"His nervous system is fried," she reported. "Whatever he did, it overloaded the cells in his body. I've never seen damage like this. Not even from lightning strikes or fire magic."

"Can you save him?" Seraph asked.

"I can keep him alive. Maybe. But beyond that?" Santos shook her head. "We need someone who specializes in this kind of trauma. Someone with experience in impossible medical cases."

Seraph thought of the Academy's medical wing. Of the healers who had kept Jonah alive through many near-death experiences. But the Academy was under siege, resources were limited.

They were on their own.

"Do what you can," she said. "And get Thorne secured. The moment he wakes up, I want to know."

"If he wakes up," Santos corrected. "Sterling's extraction process did a a lot of damage to his brain. He might stay unconscious. Or worse."

"Then we deal with worse." Seraph stood up, ignoring the pain in her shoulder. "But right now, we got two things Sterling wanted. Two assets he considered important enough to lock in his most secure prison. That's a win."

"Some win," Torres said quietly. He was sitting against a wall. "We went in with seven people. Five didn't come back."

The realization hit Seraph hard. Marcus. Chen. And three others whose names she could barely remember.

Was that a win? Or just another loss dressed up in tactical language?

She didn't know anymore.

"Get some rest," she told Torres and Kira. "You both earned it. I will debrief you in twelve hours."

They nodded and left.

Alone in the warehouse, Seraph pulled out her communicator and composed a message for the Headmaster. Mission accomplished. Targets acquired. Casualties high. Request immediate medical support and secure containment.

She hit send and sat down on a crate.

They had broken into the unbreakable prison. They had stolen Sterling's prizes. They had survived when they shouldn't have.

But the cost was written in blood and broken bodies.

And somewhere, in a medical bay, Draven fought a battle no shield could help him win.

Seraph closed her eyes and let herself feel it. The exhaustion. The pain. The grief for the people who didn't make it out.

Then she stood up and went to check on her people.

Because that's what commanders did. They take responsibility for the hard situations. They made the impossible choices. They survived when survival felt like the worst punishment of all.

And they prepared for the next impossible mission.

Because there was always a next one.

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