The night sky stretched wide, velvet-black and humming with life. Below, the city pulsed with neon lights, speeding cars, the buzz of nightlife layered over urban silence. But high above it all, Specter cut through the air like a blade.
Wind tore past his ears as he glided between towers, his custom glider extending from the folds of his suit like the wings of a silent predator. Every muscle in his body was dialed in. Calm. Focused. Alive. The world blurred beneath him, a sea of lights and shadows, but he was locked in.
He angled down toward a flat, dark rooftop nestled between two high-rise buildings. No markings. No obvious security. Just a blank slate waiting to be cracked open.
His boots skimmed the air before he bent his knees and landed in a crouch. The glider folded back seamlessly, snapping into place against his back. The impact made no sound.
Dax stood.
A beat passed.
He smiled under his mask.
Showtime.
In his ear, Milo's voice cut through the calm:
"Alright, Specter. You're at the target building. Now stick to the plan this time, okay? Enter through the west vent. You'll bypass the main hallway and hit the stairwell, security won't have a clue. And remember, the server room's on sub-level two. In and out."
Dax turned slowly, already moving toward the east side of the roof.
"That's cute, Milo… really," he said with a casual shrug, eyes already scanning for another route. "But trust me."
"Dax don't mess this one up. You always do this! Just once, follow the plan-"
But Dax wasn't listening. He reached into a pouch and pulled out a small spherical device, tossed it against a locked rooftop access panel, and took a few steps back.
A muffled pulse. Then the lock fizzled.
Dax spun the door open and slipped inside, already grinning.
"Relax, Milo. I've got this."