Astral Knight

Breaking into Novagen wasn't exactly the Mission: Impossible-level heist Dylan had imagined. There were no laser grids, no pressure-sensitive floors, not even a particularly intimidating guard dog. Just a chain-link fence with a suspiciously loose section and a couple of cameras that Marcus swore were "definitely fake."

"See?" Marcus whispered, crouching behind a bush like a discount action hero. "Told you this would be easy."

"Easy?" Dylan hissed, trying to keep his voice down while also not passing out from the effort of crawling. "We're trespassing on private property. That's, like, a felony."

"Only if we get caught," Marcus said, grinning like an idiot. "And we're not gonna get caught because I'm a genius."

"A genius who can't fix his own car," Dylan muttered, but he followed anyway.

They darted across the lawn, their shadows stretching long under the floodlights. Marcus pointed out the cameras, his voice low but annoyingly confident. "That one's fake. That one's real but broken. And that one's definitely just a birdhouse."

"A birdhouse?" Dylan squinted at the suspiciously camera-shaped object. "What kind of birds are they spying on?"

"Shut up and move," Marcus said, shoving him forward.

They slipped into one of the smaller buildings, the door creaking ominously as they pushed it open. Inside, it was dark and smelled like antiseptic and regret. Marcus immediately started ranting, his voice bouncing off the walls.

"Dude, this is so cool. I've always wanted to do this. Like, break into some top-secret facility, find some classified files, maybe steal a prototype or two. I'm basically a spy now."

"You're basically an idiot," Dylan said, rolling his eyes. "And if you don't lower your voice, we're gonna get caught, and then you're gonna be a jailbird."

Marcus ignored him, too busy fantasizing about his imaginary spy career. "I'd look good in a tux, right? Like James Bond, but cooler."

"James Bond doesn't drive a Jeep that overheats every five miles."

"Okay, first of all, rude. Second, my Jeep has character. Third, you're just jealous because you can't pull off a tux."

Dylan snorted. "Yeah, that's definitely it."

They crept through the building, their footsteps echoing in the empty halls. Marcus kept up a steady stream of commentary, his voice barely above a whisper but still somehow too loud.

"This place is insane. Look at this lab equipment. It's like something out of a sci-fi movie."

"It's a medical research facility," Dylan said dryly. "Not the Death Star."

"Same vibe, though. Like, what do you think they're working on in here? Super-soldier serum? Alien DNA? A cure for baldness?"

"Probably a cure for stupidity, but it's clearly not working."

Marcus laughed, but it was cut short by the sound of footsteps. They froze, their banter dying in their throats. A flashlight beam swept across the hallway, and they ducked behind a lab bench, their hearts pounding.

"Told you we'd get caught," Dylan whispered, his voice tight with panic.

"Shut up," Marcus hissed back. "He didn't see us."

The guard paused, his footsteps slowing as he approached their hiding spot. Dylan's lungs burned, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He fumbled for his inhaler, his hands shaking so badly he could barely get it to his mouth.

The guard's flashlight beam swept over the lab bench, and Dylan held his breath, his hands clamped over his mouth like he was in a horror movie. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, and he silently cursed Marcus, Novagen, and the entire state of Tennessee.

After what felt like an eternity, the guard moved on, his footsteps fading into the distance. Dylan let out a shaky breath, his inhaler finally working its magic.

"That was close," Marcus whispered, his voice barely audible.

"No kidding," Dylan snapped, his voice low but furious. "I'm gonna kill you for this."

"Relax, dude. We're fine."

"We're not fine! I almost died back there!"

"You're being dramatic."

"I'm being *realistic*," Dylan shot back. "Now can we please get out of here before—"

The sound of a door slamming cut him off. They froze, their eyes wide.

"Uh… was that the exit?" Dylan asked, his voice trembling.

Marcus winced. "Maybe?"

"You're dead to me."

They crept back to the door, only to find it locked. Dylan glared at Marcus, his expression a mix of fury and despair.

"Great. Just great. Now what?"

Marcus shrugged, trying to look casual but failing miserably. "We find another way out?"

"Oh, sure. Because that's gonna be so easy in a top-secret facility."

"Stop being so negative. This is an adventure, remember?"

"This is a nightmare," Dylan muttered, but he followed Marcus deeper into the building anyway.

They stumbled into what looked like a storage room, the shelves lined with boxes and equipment. Dylan leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath while Marcus poked around, his curiosity apparently outweighing his sense of self-preservation.

"Check this out," Marcus said, holding up a vial of some glowing liquid. "Think it's radioactive?"

"Put that down before you kill us both," Dylan snapped.

Marcus grinned but set the vial back on the shelf. "You're no fun."

"Fun? Fun is not getting arrested or irradiated. Fun is being at home, in bed, not breaking into a place that probably has, like, a million security protocols."

"You worry too much."

"And you don't worry enough," Dylan shot back.

They bickered for a few more minutes, their voices low but heated. Eventually, Dylan gave up and started searching the room for a way out. He was halfway through cursing Marcus's existence when he stumbled on something that made him stop cold.

"Uh… Marcus?"

"What now?"

"You might wanna see this."

Marcus hurried over, his eyes widening as he saw what Dylan had found. It was a file, tucked away in a corner of the room, its contents spilling out onto the floor. The words "Confidential" and "Project Phoenix" were stamped across the front in bold red letters.

"No way," Marcus whispered, his voice filled with awe.

Dylan picked up the file, his hands trembling. "What the hell is Project Phoenix?"

"Only one way to find out," Marcus said, his grin returning.

The air in the lab was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin crawl and your heart race. Dylan and Marcus crouched behind a lab bench, their shadows stretching long under the fluorescent lights. The mysterious file in Dylan's hand, its red "Confidential" stamp glaring like a warning sign.

"C'mon bro we ain't gonna do this right now." He pauses to focus on Dylan's face that was unchanging faxe clinching onto the file like he would do if offered a new lung.

" Dyl, what's all the fun in breaking in and entering when you can't even peep into a file." Marcus in a very light but urging tone.

"Confidential file, yeah like when somebody's trying to peep into your bucket list or diary cos i know you keep one." He laced back at Marcus with that familiar teenage precision which made the latter stammer like a grumbling toddler.

"No, I....I do not keep such childish things, who..who..at our age keeps those things." Marcus reaction didn't even have a description funny, guilty or even stupid which is ironic to how smart the guy is.

"You know what, just give me that file right now." Marcus tries to collect it by force leading to some loud struggling teenage voices. It didn't take long for it to attract the attention of two guards walking leisurely on patrol.

"Did you hear that?" One of the guards muttered with concern.

"Seriously, it must be from all the screams you have heard here for the past one month." The other guards dismissed mockingly. They are about to go when the file drops drom Dylan's hand.

"Thud!!"

"Oh shit, the guards they're coming." Dylan whispered in anxiety, once again their banter died of like the sound of the rain when the sun is out.

"Who's there." The guards barged in walking like those one we see in the movies.

"Wow this is about to get interesting mmm." Marcus whisper was cut short by Dylan's cold and fragile hands.

This made the guards feel even more grumpy and creepy. "Come out now, your hands on the floor." The voice hollered like the sound of a shotgun blast, putting uneasiness in Dylan's mind.