Hitting sixteen on a dealer’s ten.

How long has it been since Quill had a gun shoved behind his head? That familiar metal, cold and jagged, which struck him with a taste of impending death. It was the sensation of being called on nothing but a high card. Of hitting sixteen on a dealer’s ten.

He wasn’t surprised by his predicament, only at who held the gun. He had made every calculation, accounted for every variable, and yet this outcome eluded him at each prediction. Most would’ve been disappointed, but Quill, King of the Crowns, was not someone who devoted his expectations only to numbers and probability. He was a gambler, not a statistician.

“Move,” said Zek. He grabbed him by the back of his shirt and shoved him down the hallway.

“This reminds me of our old turf skirmishes,” Quill grunted. “Gets me all nostalgic.”

“Keep moving.”

“Remember? Me in Zenith, you with the Boops. The more things change, huh? You know, us OGs should meet up again sometime. There aren't many of us left now that Khan’s gone.”

“Who’s fault is that?”

When they entered the CEO’s office, Vein was still pressed against the door of the vault, jittering with its dial. Without lifting his ear, he said, “I was worried it was the guards and that we’ve been found out. I suppose this is worse.”

“Definitely worse,” Quill agreed.

“Nice seeing you again, kid,” Zek greeted. He sounded almost affable, as if meeting a friend at a bar. If he was trying to lure Vein into a sense of comfort, the firearm against Quill’s skull definitely wasn’t helping. “Let’s try and make this quick. Won’t be long until the cops realise the bomb you guys set off was a dud.”

“I assume you realise what this means,” said Vein. “Hijacking another Crown’s gig. That’s a declaration of war of the highest order.”

“How long before you crack the vault? Don’t make me ask again.”

Vein glanced down at Quill. As verbose as he was, this time, his eyes spoke for him. Give me the order and I’ll fight.

He reached for the launcher on his back.

“Dumbass.” Quill shook his head. “You were supposed to be the smart one.”

“Listen to your boss,” said Zek. “After the fox, taking you will be a breeze.”

Vein stopped. “Ten minutes,” he lied.

Zek threw Quill to the floor, and the air rang shrill. It was so simple in its execution. No extravagance, no distractions. One simple motion, consecutive to the next. It wasn’t until he felt the ground turn wet that Quill realised he was shot. His chest began to sting, then it began to burn. Within seconds, he was struggling to breathe. Zek’s brutal efficiency was almost beautiful.

“Quill!”

“It takes fifteen minutes for him to bleed out. Without first aid, it takes more than ten for you to reach the ground floor.” The Warlord repositioned his pistol at Vein. “Crack the vault.”

Vein’s eyes bounced between Quill, Zek, and the vault, quivering and panicked. He moved a hand towards the King.

“You can’t help him now. You’re losing time.”

He scrunched his hand and withdrew it. Without another word, he turned back to the vault and angled his ear at its wall. Vein muttered to himself as his fingers flashed the dial back and forth.

“Six…no, fourteen. The five hundred counts are off kilter.”

It took a little under two minutes for the vault’s door to swing open. If there was another fault in Vulpes’ plan besides Zek, it was that nobody had any idea what was going to be inside. MP said gold. Chase said files. They found only a plain suitcase.

Zek lowered his weapon and grabbed it. He put a finger to his ear. “I have the payload. We’re leaving.”

Zek turned away, ready to go.

“Wait!”

He peeked back.

Quill clenched his chest, hands red. It felt like there were searing-hot nails puncturing his flesh. He made his signature grin. It took all his strength to do just that.

He could barely breathe, so he made his last words count. “You’ll regret not killing me here.”

Zek smiled, walking off. “I know.”

The moment they were alone, Quill slammed his head back onto the floorboard. “Fuck!”

“Are you okay?” Vein ran up beside him and opened up his med-kit. “You’re going into shock. The bullet’s in deep. We can’t take it out here. I have to…”

Vein stopped. Quill’s fingers were tight around his wrist.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I lost again. I fucking lost again. I’m sorry.”

Vein didn’t say anything, continuing to bandage Quill up. When he eventually came to, he would have forgotten what he said in that injured daze, and Vein would never bring it up. Like a fallen tree in an empty forest, that fragile moment was lost to the world.

❖

“What’s taking so long?!” Lev yelled. He put his armoured hand over the CIO’s shoulder. “I’m begging you, sir, don’t fuck us over. It won’t end well for either of us.”

Despite the blaring siren and Cerafex on his back, the man was still calm, huddled over the computer without a hint of panic. “This is as fast as I can go. The system isn’t designed for rapid download. These things are usually scheduled days ahead of time.”

The alarm flashed on and off, drenching the server room in sprouts of crimson, and then complete darkness the next. From those moments of vision, the room was tiny, and the rows of server racks only made it more cramped. Each server had a blinking green light, though their colour was drowned amongst the crimson.

Lev checked in on his comms. “We’re having some difficulties here. It’s taking longer than expected.”

Chase’s voice replied. There was absolute chaos in the background, with crackling electricity and screeching metal. “Oh boo-hoo, we’re getting fucking murdered down here! Do your damn job!”

He trailed off with a rush of static.

“Quill, Vein, what about you two?” asked Lev.

Vein’s voice was ragged. It was the most panicked Lev had ever heard him. “Call off the heist. This is code red. We need to leave immediately.”

“Leave immediately? What happened?”

“We lost on our side. We can’t finish the job like this.”

“I’m not leaving without the files.”

“You have a right to what you give your life for,” said Vein. “But there’s our lives intertwined with this too.”

“Then leave me behind. I’ll get out after the files are transferred.”

Chase’s comms sprung back to life. “Hey asshole, stop trying to look cool! You think it’s fucking easy getting out of here with another man down?! You have a responsibility to this gang now so pull your fucking weight!”

“The only person I have a responsibility to is Sehyun!”

“Why don’t you take a fucking look around and say that again?!”

“Both of you, quiet!” Vein shouted. “We don’t have time for this. The rest of Zek’s gang could be coming any moment!“

Lady Fate often had a crude sense of humour, and Lev could hear her sharp cackling when the elevator dinged. Its doors spread open, and a woman stepped through.

There she was, bronze skin and crimson lips. She was piercingly beautiful, in a way that was immortal, and neither her stocky musculature nor poorly-healed burns could detract from it. Had she been carved from marble, it would still only explain half of her elegance.

When she entered the room, the light struck her skin in a way that made her burns glow like embers.

Mora, Lev remembered. Another of the Seven Crowns. The woman Quill asked to distribute their Madrid. If there had been any doubt who betrayed their heist, her presence was the answer.

“Yoo-hoo!” Her voice had a cadence like music. “Still the weakest link, aren’t you, Arc?”

Lev glanced at Arc. The wolf was no stranger to anger, but he had never seen such fury colour her face. It made all her previous outbursts seem like mild annoyance by comparison.

“I told Zek to put me up with someone good. Quill or MP. But no, looks like I’m stuck with you again.” Mora stuck out her tongue. “Yuck. At least I get the Black Lion as a bonus.”

“You two have history?” Lev asked Arc.

Arc signed something. He didn’t understand the motions but he could infer the meaning. Bitch.

“Hey, are we doing this or not? Not that you can do shit without the rest of Vulpes.”

And then Arc was gone, leaving only cold air behind. She glided across the room in the time it took Lev’s words to leave his mouth.

“Don’t!”

Arc angled her body mid-leap. As she hit the ground, she spun, bringing her arm all the way around in a perfect crescent. Her knife sheathed with ice, and crashed into Mora.

Mora raised her axe. Their weapons met.

Lev stumbed back. Plumes of steam jetted outwards from the women’s clash. It began like scalding water, searing his uncovered arms and neck. Then, it was a bitter chill, sharp and stabbing. It flashed between the two extremes without pause; blazing hell one moment and frigid Winter the next.

“Arc!” he shouted. The air burnt his throat, then chilled it. “Shit, Arc!”

She pulled back, only to swipe again. Mora returned in kind. Neither showed a hint of hesitation.

Amongst all the noise, Lev heard clattering behind him. His head snapped back. He glimpsed the backside of the CIO, vanishing into the stairwell.

“Fuck!” He looked at Arc. There was a growing red patch on her stomach, where the security guard had shot. Her makeshift ice tourniquet was falling apart, and it reflected in her fight. Mora’s axe managed to carve Arc’s side; it was a move she should’ve been able to dodge.

She’s going to lose. That lone thought echoed in his head. He turned to the stairwell again. The CIO was getting further and further away each second.

She’s going to lose.

The only person I have a responsibility to is Sehyun.

Lev clenched his teeth, and dashed down the stairs.