I chose Luck and was given Infinite Luck

Chapter 47: The Last Run



The Last Run

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1. Countdown to Annihilation (Tom's POV)

"Sixty seconds," Orion warned, his voice low but urgent.

Tom's heart hammered against his ribs. The alarms blared relentlessly now, casting the room in waves of flashing crimson light. The sound of grinding gears echoed from every direction as the walls themselves seemed to close in.

We don't have time.

The pod was dead. The figure inside—Director Elias Korrin—was finally free. But the Council wasn't going to let them escape so easily.

A mechanical voice boomed over the loudspeakers, colder than before.

"Containment breach detected. Purge protocols initiated."

The first wave hit like a hammer.

From the walls, automated defense drones burst forth—sleek, spider-like machines with serrated limbs and energy cannons mounted on their backs.

"Incoming!" Tom shouted.

Stacy didn't wait for instructions. Her blade flashed in the dim light, slicing through the first drone's sensor array in a single, fluid strike. Sparks rained down, but the machines kept coming.

We're not getting out of this unless we break their momentum.

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2. Stacy's Dance of Blades (Stacy's POV)

Stacy moved like a shadow, her body a blur of precision and fury. The memory of the Hunter's Arena wasn't just a dream anymore—it was training.

The drones attacked with ruthless efficiency, their limbs stabbing and slashing like metallic vipers. But Stacy's blade met every strike with cold determination.

A drone lunged at her left flank. She spun low, severing its primary leg joints in one swift arc. Another tried to fire from behind—too slow.

Not this time.

She launched herself upward, flipping mid-air and driving her blade through its exposed core. The machine crumpled beneath her weight, sparks and oil pooling on the floor.

"Keep moving!" Tom's voice cut through the chaos.

No time to admire the work.

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3. Orion's Counterstrike (Orion's POV)

While Tom and Stacy held the front, Orion's fingers flew across the nearest control panel.

"Manual override. Rerouting energy flows. Disabling external defense nodes..."

The screen flared red.

[ACCESS DENIED: REMOTE CONTROL ENGAGED]

Orion's jaw tightened.

"Of course," he muttered. "You want to play hardball?"

He reached into the panel's wiring and pulled a thin black cord, bypassing the software entirely. Sparks flew as he ripped the power conduits from the wall, cutting off energy to the drones' charging stations.

The machines faltered for a split second.

Long enough.

Orion didn't hesitate—he jammed a feedback loop directly into the system's neural hub. A ripple of static coursed through the room, short-circuiting the nearest wave of drones.

"That'll buy us thirty seconds."

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4. Diane's Shield (Diane's POV)

While the others fought with brute force and precision, Diane's role was different.

She focused on protection—anticipation.

The walls pulsed, energy flowing through ancient circuits as security protocols turned the environment against them.

Focus. The Council wants us trapped.

As a section of the ceiling began to collapse, she reacted without thinking, thrusting both hands outward.

A shimmering barrier—pure, raw energy—formed around the team just as the debris smashed down.

"Keep moving!" she shouted through gritted teeth. The strain of holding the barrier against the falling rubble was crushing, but she wouldn't let them be buried alive.

"Diane!" Tom's voice cut through the panic. "We're almost through!"

With a final surge of will, she released the shield—the debris fell behind them, sealing off the collapsing section.

No going back now.

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5. The Maze Closes In (Group POV)

The group burst through a side door, finding themselves in a labyrinth of twisting metal corridors—a nightmare of mechanical death traps and automated turrets.

Tom led the way, his eyes scanning every crevice, every hidden hatch where another ambush could spring from.

"Orion, any idea where we're going?"

Orion pulled up the facility's schematics on his wrist-mounted interface, his brow furrowed. "Service tunnels lead to the lower decks. If we can reach the main power relay, I can blow the entire facility's grid."

"Perfect," Stacy muttered, wiping oil from her blade. "Let's fry their circuits and run."

A fresh wave of drones descended from the ceiling—this time, larger, sleeker, armed with high-energy plasma rifles.

Tom turned sharply, fists clenched. "We hold the line. Diane, you guard Orion while he gets us out of here. Stacy—with me."

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6. Tom's Last Stand (Tom's POV)

The drones surged forward like a wave of knives. Tom met them head-on, fists striking with brutal precision.

The roulette wheel in his mind spun violently, probability bending around him with every move. Each strike became a calculation—the odds of success narrowed to a razor's edge.

A drone's blade grazed his arm. Bad luck—no, redirected.

He pivoted, letting momentum turn the failed block into a counterpunch, shattering the drone's central processor.

One down, six to go.

The odds were bad.

Perfect.

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7. The Power Core (Orion's POV)

Orion's hands moved with terrifying speed as they reached the lower levels. Every second counted—the energy signature of the facility was shifting, reacting to their every move.

"Diane, cover me!"

A turret unfolded from the wall, but Diane's energy shield caught the first volley of plasma fire.

Orion didn't even flinch.

"Overriding power regulators... rerouting core circuits... purging security protocols..."

The console pulsed red.

[WARNING: CORE MELTDOWN IMMINENT]

Orion smiled grimly. "Time's up."

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8. Escape Through Fire (Group POV – Final Scene)

The entire facility trembled as the meltdown sequence initiated. Flames roared from ruptured pipes, the air filled with the acrid stench of burning circuits.

Tom, Stacy, Diane, and Orion sprinted toward the emergency shuttle bay, alarms shrieking like dying machines.

The door ahead was sealed shut.

"Diane!" Tom shouted.

She raised her hands, energy crackling around her fingers—the door exploded outward in a shower of molten metal.

They dove inside just as the station's main reactor blew—the shockwave hurled the shuttle free of the collapsing structure.

The facility imploded behind them, a dying star of metal and fire in the void.

But they were alive.

And the Council had lost this round.

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