Next Up

Track 21

BeZo crumpled to the floor, the once-gleaming throne he had manifested disintegrating into a cascade of golden light, its ashes dancing like ethereal fireflies.

His head hung at an unnatural angle, almost one hundred and eighty degrees from its normal position. Uncontrollable twitches flickered across his eyelids, and a guttural gurgling sound escaped from his contorted neck. With each desperate attempt to breathe, his chest rose and fell, blood pumping out of the stab wounds in sync with the rhythm of his failing breaths.

Conor's eyes moved from him to the guards above. For what felt like minutes, no one moved, both groups waiting for the other to do something first.

Kholwa bent down; her hand shook as she picked up her bloody dagger. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, taking a deep breath as her hand ran along its hilt.

She opened them, feeling someone's hand take it from under her fingertips.

Zheanni held it in front of her face. Her eyes ran down the damaged blade. "Don't worry," she smiled. "Later today, we can go get you another one."

Kholwa looked from her eyes down to her torso, staring at the small hole in Zheanni's shirt from where BeZo had attempted to impale her, though he was never able to penetrate her skin. "Sure."

Zheanni strolled down the stairs. On the second-floor balcony, Conor shoved aside a dead guard with his foot, clearing a way to one of the offices.

Below, Kholwa flipped through many files, looking through drawers and cabinets behind the teller's desk. "There," she smiled.

The metal detector beeped loudly as the trio walked down the hallway. Kholwa glanced down, the marble almost like a mirror; their shoes leaving bloody streaks across its glossy surface.

Navigating through the office corridor and descending a set of pristine white stairs, they reached the basement. Conor effortlessly kicked open the metal security door leading to the area with security lockers and CCTV rooms, startling the four guards within. Meanwhile, Kholwa and Zheanni continued their advance into the heart of the bank's underground. Zheanni placed both hands on the thick metal bars that separated them from the two vault doors. A grimace crossed her face, and she gritted her teeth as the metal bent under her grasp.

Behind them, Conor followed through the dimly lit vault hallway, the relentless clangor of alarm bells bouncing off the cold concrete walls.

He looked back and forth from one door to the other. On his right was a short, thick metal door with a keypad. On the right was a shiny and circular, stereotypical bank vault door.

"Well?" Zheanni gestured to both doors.

The short steel door crumpled and was ripped off its hinges. Stepping into the room, they surveyed the scene, eyes widening at the sight of duffle bags brimming with cash and gold bars, representing a myriad of countries. Metal shelves lining the walls bore the weight of countless pounds in currency and gold.

Zheanni bent down and opened a couple of zipped bags on the floor, rummaging through them, letting the bands of money run through her fingers. "This whole room gotta be over a hundred million. If they keep all this in here, I wonder what kinda shit they got in the big vault," she said wistfully, pocketing a rare-looking gold coin that looked old enough to be fought over by pirates.

"Are we gonna carry these, or..." Kholwa trailed off.

Conor's eyes glazed over the room, "First things first," he said, physically pulling himself away from the room and walking over to the other door.