Kali burst out of the stairwell and into the parking lot, boots pounding against the concrete, breath tight in his lungs. He could already hear the hiss of hydraulics and the bark of distorted commands echoing from the surrounding streets. The AFD were closing in fast.
He spotted the car, an old grey Centura tucked between a row of scooters and a dead drone van. Not armored, not fast by military standards, but it would do. He yanked the door open and dropped into the driver's seat just as the first klaxon blared overhead.
The interior reeked of synthetic leather and cold sweat. He slapped the ignition. The biometric interface stuttered for half a second, confused by the override splice he'd loaded earlier, then buzzed awake. Dashboard lights flickered on in a flash of sickly green and red. The hum of the engine roared to life beneath him like a caged animal.
No time.
Kali slammed his foot down.
The Centura lunged forward with a screech, tires shrieking against the pavement. He whipped the wheel hard, fishtailing out of the lot and onto the main road just as the building behind him was flooded with light from incoming tactical drones. The front gates were closing, heavy steel jaws grinding together with mechanical finality, but not fast enough.
He threaded the car through the narrowing gap, the side mirrors clipping sparks off the concrete walls. Behind him, voices shouted, garbled by radio static and synthetic filters.
"Target is mobile. All units engage. Lock the quadrant down—now!"
Kali didn't look back.
He sped into the open street, and for a heartbeat, it felt like he might've made it out. Then the blockade emerged. Two AFD armored trucks were pivoting into position at the cross street, their angular bodies almost too wide for the lanes. Another patrol car was screeching to a halt, forming a crude barrier. Kali didn't hesitate. He surged forward, angling the car to thread the needle.
He saw their faces, just for a second, through their helmets. Wide-eyed. Unready.
The Centura blasted between them, the side panels scraping metal with a shower of sparks as he slid through the gap. One officer dove out of the way. Another opened fire, but too late, the bullets pinged off the rear chassis, cracking the taillights.
The car rocked, suspension groaning, but Kali held the wheel steady.
Then came the wail of pursuit.
In the rearview, blue-white sirens ignited like predators' eyes in the night, chasing him with cold precision. Tires screamed behind him. Drones took flight above, blinking crimson against the darkening sky.
He pushed the engine harder. The scent of burning rubber filled the cabin. The city blurred past in a smear of neon and shadow. Street signs. Advertising holos. Half-lit buildings. All rushing by in a tunnel of light and motion.
A sharp turn loomed ahead, too sharp at this speed.
He downshifted hard, the gear grinding beneath his foot, then yanked the wheel into a controlled drift. The Centura skidded sideways, clipping a row of trash bins and sending debris scattering like shrapnel. The AFD trucks overshot the turn, unable to match the maneuver.
He cut down an alley. It was narrow, grimy, slick with rainwater from earlier in the evening. The walls closed in tight, the car barely squeezing through. Sparks flew as metal scraped brick. Somewhere above, a civilian screamed. A window shattered.
Kali didn't slow down.
The alleyway spat him back onto a side road, tires skidding across loose gravel and oil-slick pavement. He spun the wheel and regained control just in time to see the convoy coming up fast behind him, AFD pursuit drones overhead and two interceptor bikes weaving through traffic like silver bullets.
A sharp, percussive burst cracked the air, short, controlled pulses from an AFD rider's automatic rifle. The rear windshield exploded in a flash of safety glass, shards scattering across the dashboard like hail. Kali ducked instinctively, the wheel jerking in his hands.
"Shit—"
Another burst. Bullets stitched a line across the trunk and tore through the passenger-side headrest. The car filled with the chemical sting of scorched plastic and gunpowder. He gritted his teeth and slammed the wheel right, narrowly avoiding a pillar as he ducked into an old skybus underpass.
The sound changed here, it echoed, thunderous, magnified.
The motorcycles followed him into the tunnel, engines howling. Their mounted lights painted the walls in strobing red and blue, shadows twitching like specters. The roar of gunfire became deafening, every shot bouncing off the enclosed space like a war drum. Sparks flew as bullets struck the ceiling and ricocheted into the dark.
Kali yanked a flashpod from the console, a custom rig, jerry-rigged to blind optics. He pressed the charge, cracked the window with an elbow, and lobbed it out the side.
A split-second pause. BOOM!
A white-hot burst of magnesium light erupted in the tunnel, blinding in its intensity. Kali shielded his eyes and felt, rather than saw, the first interceptor wipe out, its rider skidding into the wall with a metal scream. Sparks burst like fireworks as the vehicle folded into itself.
The second rider pulled back, slowed. Hesitating.
Kali didn't wait for them to regroup. He punched the accelerator and roared out of the tunnel like a bullet, catching air over a dip in the road. The car hit pavement hard, shocks crying out, and fishtailed before stabilizing again.
Above him, the drones had re-locked onto his position. He heard their servos whining, then the whip-crack of precision rounds fired from high-altitude snipers. One struck the hood, leaving a fist-sized dent in the frame. Another sliced through the driver-side mirror, sending it spinning into the street.
He veered off the main road into an older district, pre-quake infrastructure, tight corners, low overhangs. Here, drones struggled to track, and air support would hesitate. He was running out of time and road, but not yet out of options.
A third gunshot snapped through the air, this one from ahead.
Kali swerved as a roadblock came into view, troopers scrambling into position behind armored shields, raising weapons in a synchronized volley.
"Fuck it." He aimed for a gap just wide enough between two vehicles and floored it.
The Centura surged forward, battered, smoking, but still running. A hail of bullets tore across the hood and windshield, blinding him for a half-second in a cloud of glass and sparks.
But he made it through.
Behind him, the chaos only escalated, shouts, sirens, twisted metal, and confusion.
His blood pumped, excitement coursing through him. While he missed his old life as an astrophysicist, but the cold truth was that danger had a taste. Bitter, metallic, and sharp. And he was addicted to it now.
The car tore down the arterial road, weaving through the skeletal remains of a once-bustling district. The sirens had grown distant. For the first time in minutes, Kali felt like he was in the clear, slipping beneath their radar, threading the needle of the city's chaos.
Then the sky caught fire.
A pulse of light, searing and unnatural, flashed above, blinding even through the tinted windshield. Reflexively, Kali squinted and glanced at the side mirror. That's when he saw it.
The Jacob's Ladder.
The orbital tether, once a shimmering line connecting Medri to the heavens, was ablaze. Fire crawled up its spine like a wrathful serpent. An instant later, the sound came. A deep, cosmic boom, not like thunder, but something vaster. The kind of sound that came from things falling out of the sky.
The tether groaned, a mechanical scream of unimaginable tension giving way. Then, with an audible crack like a snapped god-chain, it began to fall. Gasps echoed from balconies. Traffic stopped. For a moment, the whole city looked up.
The lower segment of the elevator, kilometers long, broke atmosphere in a cascade of fragmented debris. Pieces glinted in the sky as they burned through the air, trailing fire like the vengeance of forgotten stars. It wasn't just collapse, it was descent. Cataclysmic and biblical. Just like Pompeii, the heavens falling on mankind.
Kali's breath caught in his throat as he watched the tether spiral earthward like a divine spear. It struck the heart of Medri with a force that turned buildings to dust. A shockwave of flame and glass erupted outward. Skyscrapers bent like reeds before a storm. Entire blocks disappeared beneath a rising cloud of blackened smoke.
The bridge beneath Kali lurched violently.
The Centura's tires lost contact with the road as the ground beneath him twisted. For one suspended second, the car hung midair, then reality snapped back. The Centura slammed down, nose-first, rebounded off the tarmac, and flipped.
Metal screamed. The world rotated in violent tumbles as glass shattered and sparks flew. The final impact came with a bone-jarring crunch as the vehicle slammed into the bridge's guard rail and rolled onto its back. Kali was thrown against the restraints, his ribs screaming, vision swimming with pain.
Then silence. Only the low groan of bent metal. The distant, monstrous roar of the burning skyline. And the hiss of something leaking.
Kali hung upside down, blood dripping from a cut above his brow. The heat was rising. Sirens were returning. But all he could do was stare, dazed, at the inverted inferno in the distance.
The sky had fallen.