Jason walked several hundred meters from the house, keeping his movements controlled and deliberate. The quiet suburban streets felt exposed despite their emptiness. Every rustle of leaves, every shadow cast by abandoned vehicles made his hand twitch toward his weapon.
"Nia, run perimeter scan," he said quietly.
"No immediate threats detected within 100-meter radius," Nia responded.
Jason nodded, then reached into his pack for the drone. The compact unit fit in his palm, but once unfolded, its four rotors extended to create a surprisingly capable surveillance platform.
"Let's get a better view of what we're dealing with," he muttered, powering up the device.
The drone ascended silently, climbing to sixty meters before stabilizing. Jason watched the live feed on his control screen, directing the drone in expanding circular patterns.
"Movement detected," Nia announced. "South-southeast, approximately 800 meters."
Jason adjusted the drone's position and zoomed in. The high-resolution camera revealed a group of five individuals moving methodically through the neighborhood. Four women and one man, all armed and moving with disciplined precision.
"Shit," Jason whispered.
He studied their formation—tight, organized, with clear roles. The point person checked corners while others covered windows and doorways. They weren't random survivors; this was a trained unit.
"Analysis suggests military or law enforcement background," Nia confirmed. "Their current trajectory will intersect with the Morgan residence in approximately 2 hours."
One woman gestured commands that the others followed without hesitation. The leader, clearly.
"Goddamnit," Jason hissed, frustration boiling over. "Just when I thought we might catch a break."
He directed the drone to continue surveillance while he plotted the quickest route back to the house.
"They appear to be searching systematically," Nia observed. "Each house is cleared before moving to the next."
"Looking for supplies or survivors?"
"Both, most likely. Their equipment suggests long-term field operations."
Jason recalled the drone and sprinted back toward the house, keeping to cover whenever possible. His mind raced through options, none of them good.
Jason rushed up to the front door and knocked sharply, his voice urgent but controlled. "Haruka! It's me—open up, now!"
A moment later, the sound of the deadbolt sliding open echoed through the hallway. Haruka appeared, slightly breathless, her eyes wide with alarm. The soft light from inside cast shadows across her worried face.
"Jason? What's—"
He stepped inside quickly, not waiting for her to finish. "We've got a problem," he said, his voice tight with urgency. He scanned the entryway, mentally calculating escape routes.
Misaki emerged from the kitchen, her expression already hardening, one hand moving instinctively toward the knife at her belt. Her posture shifted subtly into a defensive stance. "What kind of problem?"
"Armed group heading this way. Five people, military training, heavily armed." Jason moved to the window, peering through the blinds. His fingers tensed against the plastic slats. "We've got maybe two hours before they reach us. They're moving house to house in a grid pattern."
"Could they be friendly?" Haruka asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer. She twisted her hands together, glancing toward the stairs where Aiko rested.
Jason shook his head. "Can't risk it. They're clearing houses one by one. Too organized, too methodical. Even if they're not hostile, people that disciplined have an agenda." He let the blinds snap shut. "And agendas get people killed these days."
Misaki's eyes narrowed. "So what do we do? Hide? Fight?" Her fingers drummed against the knife handle, betraying her nervous energy.
"Neither," Jason replied. "We leave. Now."
A tense silence filled the room as the implications sank in. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, each second bringing the threat closer.
"I can project their most likely search pattern," Nia spoke to Jason. "Based on current trajectories, we can identify optimal evacuation routes. They appear to be maintaining radio discipline, which suggests professional training."
Haruka stared at the window, momentarily distracted before refocusing. "But Aiko—she's still sick. The fever only broke this morning."
"I'll carry her," Jason said. "But we need to move fast. Grab only essentials—medicine, water, some food. Nothing we can't carry quickly." He moved toward the kitchen, checking sight lines through the back windows. "Five minutes, no more."
Misaki nodded sharply. "I'll get the medical supplies and water." She disappeared upstairs, her footsteps barely audible on the carpeted steps.
Haruka hesitated only briefly before springing into action, grabbing a small backpack and filling it with essential items—a change of clothes for Aiko, some preserved food, a flashlight. Her movements were efficient despite her obvious worry.
Jason moved upstairs to check on Aiko. The girl was sleeping, her breathing easier than before but still labored. He gently placed a hand on her forehead—warm, but not dangerously so. Her dark hair was damp with sweat, clinging to her pale skin.
"We're going to move you somewhere safer," he whispered, though she couldn't hear him. He carefully tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Misaki appeared in the doorway, her pack already filled. "Is she okay to move?" Her voice was softer now, concern breaking through her usual stoicism.
"We don't have a choice," Jason replied. "But yes, I think so. The antibiotics are working." He straightened the rumpled sheets. "Better than yesterday, at least."
He wrapped Aiko in a light blanket and lifted her carefully. She stirred slightly but didn't wake, her head resting against his shoulder. Her slight frame felt fragile in his arms, a painful reminder of everything at stake.
Downstairs, Haruka waited by the door, her face a mask of controlled fear. "Where are we going?" She clutched the backpack straps tightly, knuckles white with tension.
Jason didn't answer immediately. He tilted his head slightly, pretending to evaluate their options—though in truth, Nia's voice was already in his mind, calm and precise against his racing thoughts.
"I've identified three potential safe houses," Nia said calmly. "The optimal location is a two-story residence 600 meters northwest. It provides multiple exit points, good visibility, and is outside the projected search pattern of the approaching group. The building appears structurally sound based on satellite imagery."
Jason gave a short nod to no one in particular, then turned to Haruka and Misaki.
"There's a two-story house about 600 meters northwest," he said, his tone brisk but confident. "Good visibility, easy exits. We'll take alleys and backyards to avoid attention. Stay low, stay quiet, and stick close." He adjusted Aiko in his arms.
With Aiko secure in his arms, Jason led them out the back door. Misaki took point with him while Haruka followed close behind, constantly checking their rear. They moved like shadows through the silent neighborhood—ducking between houses, pausing at corners, listening for any sound that didn't belong. The morning sun cast long shadows that provided some cover as they darted between buildings.
"We need to move faster," Jason whispered, feeling the minutes ticking away. His enhanced senses tracked every sound—a distant bird call, the rustle of wind through abandoned gardens, the soft footfalls of his companions.
They quickened their pace, the weight of Aiko growing heavier in Jason's arms, though he showed no sign of strain. His enhanced physiology handled the burden easily, but his mind was heavy with worry. Another delay, another complication. The Ascension lab seemed to drift further away with each passing hour, like a mirage that receded the closer he got. The mission parameters kept shifting, growing more complex with each new variable.
After fifteen tense minutes of evasion, they reached the house Nia had identified. It stood silent and intact—a two-story colonial with unbroken windows and a solid front door.
"Wait here," Jason said, carefully transferring Aiko to Haruka's arms. "I'll clear it."
He entered with weapon drawn, moving room by room with practiced efficiency. The house was empty—dusty furniture, family photos on walls, a half-empty glass of water on a side table. More ghosts of the world before.
"Clear," he called softly from the front door.
They settled Aiko in an upstairs bedroom with good ventilation. Haruka dampened a cloth and placed it on her daughter's forehead while Misaki secured doors and windows.
Jason stood in the doorway, watching the tender care Haruka showed her daughter. Something twisted in his chest—a feeling both warm and painful. These people were now his responsibility, whether he'd planned for it or not.
"I need to go," he said finally. "My mission can't wait any longer."
Haruka looked up, her eyes filled with understanding and something else—something that made his pulse quicken slightly.
"We'll be okay," she said. "You've done enough already."
Misaki appeared behind him. Her earlier suspicion had softened somewhat. "The house is secure. Better position than the last one, actually. Good sightlines."
Jason nodded. "Keep watches in shifts. Don't use lights at night. Stay away from windows."
"We know how to survive," Misaki said, but without the edge her voice had carried earlier. "We've made it this far."
Jason gathered his gear, checking weapons and supplies one final time. At the front door, he paused, turning back to find Haruka standing there.
No words passed between them, just a look of silent communication. She gave him a small nod—acknowledgment, trust, perhaps even something deeper.
"Two days," he said. "I'll be back in two days at most."
Then he was gone, stepping once more into the silent city. The weight on his shoulders felt different now—not just the physical burden of his pack and weapons, but the invisible weight of promises made. People who needed him to return.
As he moved through the empty streets toward his original objective, Jason couldn't help but wonder how many more detours lay ahead, and how many more lives would become entangled with his before his mission was complete.
"Your heart rate is elevated," Nia observed privately. "Concerned about the Morgans?"
"Just focused on the mission," Jason replied, though they both knew it wasn't entirely true.