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vendettaspathfanfic · 6 months ago

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Chapter Seven

(Chapter Index)

(Previous)

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Toxic was overcome with an exhilaration unlike anything she had ever experienced before. For the past few days, she and the rest of the Destructix had been meticulously organizing and strategizing for the upcoming bank robbery. Her brother had assured her that the heist would not only yield substantial rewards for the gang, but also bring them closer to their ultimate goal of claiming the castle as their own.

Furthermore, she had already tasted the thrill of danger when she found herself being pursued by the police, and had even taken the life of Boomer Walrus. Like Scourge, she found herself drawn to the adrenaline rush that came with living beyond the boundaries of the law, and it was a temptation she simply couldn't resist.

And now, the sun had long dipped below the polluted horizon and the bank had closed its doors to the public. Everyone except for Scourge and Fiona gathered in the dimly lit front lobby of their musty hideout, waiting as the latter was making some last-minute modifications to a newly acquired, illicitly-gained SUV that would be serving as their getaway vehicle.

"When do we go?" Toxic asked impatiently, the frustration transparent in her tone as she slouched her shoulders forward in an exaggerated, childlike display of boredom.

"As your brother mentioned," Predator responded brusquely, "we'll leave once Fiona finishes with the car."

"And where's Scourge?" Lightning interjected, displaying his impatience, albeit in a more composed manner compared to their youngest companion.

"He's checking on Miles," Predator replied, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face as he observed Lightning's restlessness. "The wait will be worth it."

Reluctantly, Lightning released a soft sigh and nodded, conceding with a muttered acknowledgment of "you're right," his gaze drifting downward and away from Predator.

"That's hardly a revelation," Predator remarked confidently, his arms folded across his chest as he stared ahead.

"Shut up," Lightning retorted with a growl, attempting to maintain a facade of annoyance even as his mouth twitched in a battle against a burgeoning grin.

"We'll be ready soon, Toxic little girl!" Flying exclaimed, bounding off the remnants of the front desk in the lobby where he had been perched. He landed with a solid thud in a crouched position before Toxic, meeting her at eye level. "And then we'll have a grand ole time-rhyme-mime!"

A proud smile spread across Toxic's face as she declared, "I'm gonna shoot someone again," placing her clenched fists on her hips.

"Well, they've got bots instead of guards, so you'll just be shooting them if necessary," Lightning chimed in, leaning casually against the wall as he recounted a detail from his earlier reconnaissance mission at the bank to assess the security system.

"Unless the cops show up-cup-pup!" Flying interjected, wagging his finger playfully while his grin widened at the prospect of taking the lives of law enforcement.

Toxic nibbled on her healing lower lip, revealing a gap-toothed grin. "I wanna shoot them too," she mused before approaching Simon, who carried their arsenal of weapons in an ammo belt slung across his torso. She looked up at him and gently tugged on his pant leg, prompting him to shift his gaze toward her.

"What is it?" Simon asked.

"Can I have my gun?" she asked, extending her arm towards his towering figure, her hand outstretched in anticipation.

"Not yet. I'll give it to you when it’s time," Simon replied, his gaze returning to the front as he patiently awaited the gang's leaders.

"Can I just practice more though?" Toxic persisted, maintaining her stance as she tried to negotiate for access to her designated pistol.

"Nope. We have to be conservative with ammo at the moment," Simon insisted, crossing his arms firmly as he kept his gaze fixed ahead.

"That's balls," Toxic grumbled, dropping her arm and crossing it tightly with the other.

"Okay," Simon acknowledged with a nonchalant hum, his shoulders giving a subtle twitch in a barely noticeable shrug.

Scourge soon made his entrance into the dimly lit lobby, his silhouette accentuated by the warm glow emanating from the lantern he carried. With a smirk and, he lowly chuckled “whining bitch,” as he placed the lantern on a weathered end table, joining the ensemble of lights that provided just enough illumination for the gang to make out each other's faces in the dark, dank setting.

"How's our guest, green boss?" queried Flying with a curious tilt of his head.

"He's been trapped in that room going on three days now, and trust me, we're far from rolling out the red carpet for him. He's faring just as you'd picture," Scourge growled with annoyance while he fidgeted with the jacket that seemed to hang loosely on his lithe form.

"I see-hee-hee!" Flying snickered with sinister glee, his hands coming together in anticipation as he imagined the undoubtedly run-down condition of their captive, Miles.

"Fiona's wrapping up her work. I'll go see how she's doing," declared Scourge, striding towards the shadowy alley nestled next to the orphanage. It was a secluded spot where they currently kept their vehicles out of sight. As he arrived, he noticed Fiona, intent on her task under the SUV's hood, her face hidden from view by its bulk.

"How's it going, Fi?" he called out, a grin spreading across his face as he took in the sight of her, somehow still striking even with streaks of filth marking her from the day's labor.

"Just tying up the last few loose ends," she answered without looking up, her hands deftly making the final tweaks to the engine. With a satisfied nod, she packed away her tools and lowered the hood with a solid thud. "We should give it a test drive. Care to do the honors?"

"Yeah, I'm up for it," Scourge replied nonchalantly, his shoulders lifting in an easy shrug.

"Perfect. Just a quick ride down to the end of the street and back should do. I can tell you're all itching to go soon," she said, a touch of empathy in her voice as she prepared to gauge the readiness of their escape vehicle.

"Don't you know it," Scourge chuckled, the sound low and soft, as he accepted the keys she offered him and slid into the driver's seat. With a turn of the key, the engine roared to life, and he took off for the brief trial run. The vehicle performed flawlessly, and with a satisfied nod, he returned to park it right in front of the building, stepping out to greet Fiona who walked up to him with a victorious air.

"Smooth as butter," she proclaimed, her arms lifted triumphantly.

"That’s my girl," Scourge praised, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her into a close embrace, their bodies pressed together in a moment of affection.

"Well," Fiona began, her fingers delicately holding Scourge's chin, elevating his gaze to hers, "it looks like we're ready to roll."

With a broad smile, Scourge reveled not only in the thrill of the impending heist but also in the woman before him – Fiona, the undeniable queenpin of their outfit and, more significantly, his own heart. Drawn in by the moment, their lips met in a soft collision that momentarily swept away thoughts of their upcoming illicit endeavor.

The Destructix, however, did not forget about anything. The expectant gang emerged from the building,

Their intimate interlude was shattered by a piercing, high-pitched "HEY!" that sliced through the air, accompanied by the sharp clap of hands.

"I will break you, you little shi-" Scourge snarled, his moment with Fiona abruptly interrupted, glaring at his sister in disdain.

"Are we ready to get moving?" Toxic interrupted, her impatience evident in her crossed arms and the rhythmic tapping of her foot.

"Mhm," Fiona replied, rolling her eyes at Toxic's insolence. She then turned her attention to the task at hand, announcing, "Everybody, gear up," as she popped open the trunk and began to distribute the nondescript black hoodies and balaclavas to the group.

"How long is the drive again?" Lightning asked, pulling the hoodie over his head.

"We should make it in about thirty minutes," Fiona answered, as she too donned the garment. "Simon, do you have all the equipment ready?"

“Yes ma’am.” Simion replied with an obedient nod, carefully placing a large, loaded duffle bag into the trunk.

Fiona responded with an enthusiastic agreement, enthusiastically thrusting both of her thumbs skyward as she declared, “Cool. Everyone in.”

Upon her cue, her and the rest of the Destructix clambered into the spacious interior of the SUV, a sense of tense excitement hanging in the air. Fiona ignited the engine and embarked on their route towards the bank.

“Alright, one more time let’s hear the plan.” Scourge commanded with authority, his blue eyes scanning the motley crew of accomplices from the vehicle's passenger seat.

With precision, Lightning began to recite his role in the upcoming heist, “I disarm an external security camera by the vent which I’ll crawl through and search for the security room. Once there, I’ll take the flash drive Fiona got and plug it into the main computer. The virus within it will shut the system down completely.”

“Right, then what?” Scourge prodded, his voice laced with anticipation for the next steps.

“I’ll break open the door then guard the car.” Simon chimed in succinctly, underscoring his commitment to the task at hand.

“Can Simon come with us?” Toxic interjected, her eyes wide and hopeful as she cast a beseeching look in Simon’s direction.

“Shut up,” Scourge spat out sharply, his patience wearing thin with his sister’s shenanigans.

“But I-“ Toxic began to protest, her lips parting in objection, only to be met with crossed arms and a resolved stance.

“The answer’s no,” Simon articulated firmly, as the little blue hedgehog sitting beside him grumbled under her breath, her arms folding defiantly while her expression soured by the sting of rejection.

“Go on,” Fiona encouraged, her tone now edged with impatience.

“I run in and find the vault,” Scourge succinctly stated his part of the plan, his confidence unwavering.

“Right,” Fiona acknowledged, her hands deftly maneuvering the steering wheel as she executed a sharp turn.

“We go where Scourge tells us the vault is and start loading the bags.” Predator elaborated, nodding toward the trunk where a stack of empty duffel bags awaited their bounty.

“Then after we’re rich-stitch-bitch, we haul the fuck out before the piggly-wigglies come after us!” Flying exclaimed with his typical raucous enthusiasm, his fist punching the air triumphantly.

“Damn right boys,” Fiona concurred, her lips curling into a predatory smirk of anticipation. The vehicle accelerated, leaving behind the city limits sign that marked their departure from Moebotropilis, as they steered closer to their plunder.

“My mouth hurts…” Toxic complained with a pained expression, her fingers unconsciously gravitating towards the scab forming on her healing lip.

“Then why are you picking at it?” Predator grumbled with a touch of exasperation, shooting a disapproving glance at Toxic.

“Stop picking at it, Toxic. It won't heal if you do,” Fiona scolded firmly, her gaze piercing through the rearview mirror to meet Toxic's eyes.

“I’m not picking at it…” Toxic protested weakly, her fingers betraying her as they continued their ministrations.

“I see you doing it. Knock it off,” Fiona admonished, her voice carrying a note of frustration as she shifted her focus momentarily to berate a sluggish driver ahead, “move it, dumbass!”

“Put your mask on, Toxic,” Simon interjected, hoping this would redirect Toxic's attention away from her lip.

“Okay,” Toxic responded eagerly, a spark of excitement evident in her eyes as she grasped the small balaclava and attempted to pull it over her head. However, her initial enthusiasm was met with a minor setback as she struggled to align the mask correctly, inadvertently covering her eyes instead of the intended eye holes.

“Hang on,” Simon sighed heavily, reaching over to adjust the mask to its proper position on Toxic's head.

“Does it look cool?” Toxic inquired with anticipation, her wide eyes shining with a mix of innocence and eagerness as her tail wagged in anticipation.

“Sure,” Simon replied casually, offering a nonchalant shrug in response to her query.

“Good,” Toxic chimed in happily, a giggle bubbling forth as she embraced the thrill of her first heist.

As the journey progressed with an intermittent backdrop of silence occasionally punctuated by Toxic annoying Simon with various random questions, Lightning seized the opportunity to engage in a moment of meditation. The impending task ahead demanded unwavering focus and precision, necessitating a mental and physical clarity unencumbered by distractions. With a deliberate motion, he gently closed his eyes, honed in on the rhythm of his breath, and methodically purged his mind of extraneous thoughts.

Unbeknownst to Lightning, Predator's gaze had shifted towards him, silently studying his tranquil countenance with a mix of admiration and respect. The aura of serenity enveloping Lightning belied the intense focus he maintained, his unmoving form resembling that of a poised statue, save for the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled with measured calmness.

In this moment of profound tranquility and disciplined resolve, Predator found a poignant reminder of Lightning's indispensable role within the ranks of the Destructix. The brief period during which Lightning had temporarily departed to rejoin the Raiju Clan had underscored not only the loss of a formidable ally in combat but also the absence of a cherished friend whose presence was deeply ingrained in the fabric of their collective identity.

"Thank god he came back…" Predator mused inwardly, the sentiment reverberating within him so profoundly that he resisted the urge to vocalize it.

To Predator, the Destructix remained incomplete in Lightning's absence, a sentiment that echoed the void within his own being that yearned to be filled by the camaraderie and companionship they had shared. Lightning was more than a comrade; he was Predator's first true friend, a bond that transcended the confines of their criminal endeavors and resonated on a personal level.

Abruptly jolted back to reality, Predator's reverie was shattered by Flying's boisterous intervention, as he seized Lightning's shoulder and vigorously shook him while emitting an incomprehensible stream of excited chatter, disrupting the moment with a frenetic energy that clashed with the prevailing stillness.

"Fuck, Flying!" Lightning hissed through gritted teeth, his body taut with barely restrained fury as he glared at him.

Flying, on the other hand, seemed to revel in the tension, a mischievous sparkle dancing in his eyes. He let out a playful giggle, the sound almost musical in its lightness. "We’re here, kitty kitty!" he taunted, his voice lilting as he turned his attention towards Predator with a sly grin. With an exaggerated waggle of his eyebrows, he mockingly inquired, "Could you tell we were here, tweety bird? You seemed a lil distracted!"

The color rose rapidly to Predator's cheeks, a deep blush betraying his embarrassment. He was caught with his eyes stuck on Lightning. It was an unusual lapse for him, one that seemed all the more peculiar because he hadn't intended to stare; his mind had simply wandered down a labyrinth of thought.

"Yes I could…” Predator murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he tried to recover his composure. He hastily cleared his throat, finding himself momentarily unable to meet the eyes of his companions. An old nervous habit was resurfacing, one he had diligently worked to quell, and he silently chastised himself for allowing it to creep back in.

Scourge cut through the banter with a voice that brooked no argument. “Everyone put the masks on,” he directed, his tone firm and authoritative. There was no hesitation as the team promptly complied, each member pulling on their balaclavas to conceal their identities in the dark fabric.

Fiona, maneuvered the vehicle into a narrow alleyway several structures away from the bank. The engine hummed to a subdued halt. Turning in her seat, she fixed Lightning with a look that was both stern and encouraging. “You’re on, my man,” she said, giving him an affirming nod.

Responding with a terse nod of his own, Lightning's fingers found the button that activated the car's overhead window, pressing it to open up his pathway. He unclasped his seatbelt with a click and fluidly climbed through the opening. Standing atop the vehicle, he surveyed his surroundings before making his move. With the finesse of a true ninja, he leaped onto a nearby fire escape, his movements swift and silent as he ascended the metal stairs to gain access to the rooftops.

Once he reached the appropriate vantage point, he paced back, calculating distance, then burst into a sprint that carried him toward the edge of the rooftop. With a powerful leap, he bridged the gap to the neighboring building, repeating this athletic feat from one structure to the next in a breathtaking display of parkour until he arrived at the bank's roof.

There, Lightning prowled across the rooftop like a shadow until he reached his target that he had noted when he surveyed the bank earlier: the security camera with a clear view of the vent he needed to infiltrate. With a deftness that spoke of years of practice, he reached out and with a swift twist of his wrist, he dislodged the camera from its perch, letting it clatter to his feet where he proceeded to crush it beneath his boot, extinguishing its ability.

With the camera disabled, Lightning yet again transformed into an embodiment of stealth and precision. He inched over the ledge, his body angled in an almost impossible inversion as he maintained his balance with the expertise of a master climber. Upon unzipping a pocket of his hoodie, he pulled out a small screwdriver, its metal glinting faintly in the dim light as he set about removing the bolts securing the vent. One by one, the screws fell away, the metal grate clattering to the ground below. Lightning's movements were a choreographed dance of finesse and strength, as he contorted his body to slip into the vent's maw.

Inside, he weaved through the ducts with a patience born of necessity, seeking the nerve center of their target. After a meticulous journey, he discovered a room bristling with technology — computers, monitors, and servers — the perfect jackpot.

But caution was paramount; security cameras lurked like vigilant sentinels. Tuning into the environment, Lightning detected the faint hum of machinery from a camera nearby, likely positioned to monitor the vent. With a swift and calculated motion, he positioned his feet against the grate and unleashed a powerful kick. The grate sailed away as Lightning burst from the vent, his feet colliding with the camera in a precise strike, its recording light flickering out as he landed deftly on the ground.

Drawing from his extensive experience in past criminal exploits, Lightning navigated the familiar terrain of the room with confident precision. Approaching the mainframe computer, he deftly inserted the flash drive containing the virus, a potent tool acquired by Fiona from a black market, into the USB port. As the malicious code took root within the system, the room's atmosphere crackled with digital tension.

Observing the monitors flicker and glitch in response to the virus's intrusion, Lightning's ears flattened at the jarring cacophony of alarms distorted by the cyber assault. Without missing a beat, he reached for his phone and dialed Scourge.

“Howzit lookin’?” Scourge's voice cut through the chaos, his tone a blend of anticipation and authority, as he answered the call after a single ring.

“It’s working. Any second now...” Lightning's response was measured and focused, his gaze fixed on the unfolding chaos as the virus's effects intensified, causing the servers and monitors to succumb to the digital onslaught. With a self-assured smirk, he announced, “You’re up, boss.”

“See you in a minute,” Scourge's voice resonated with unwavering confidence as he terminated the call, stepping out of the car to retrieve an empty duffel bag from the trunk, preparing for the next phase of their operation.

Exiting the vehicle in tandem, Simon approached Scourge.

"In case the vault hasn't been unlocked, you’ll need some sticky bombs," Simon remarked, retrieving a small duffel bag containing the explosive devices and passing it to him with careful deliberation.

“Right on, man,” Scourge acknowledged with a faint grin, shouldering the bag of volatile tools in readiness for their utilization.

“You know how to use ‘em?”

“Yeah, gotta run,” Scourge responded with a playful salute, his focus shifting to the imminent task at hand. With his signature speed, he hastened towards the bank's entrance, the weight of their mission propelling him forward like a bullet. With a swift motion, he forced open the door, splintering the lock in the process, and plunged into the dimly lit interior, embarking on a determined search for the location of the vault, where their ultimate prize awaited.

Thanks to the combination of his remarkable speed and the lack of security measures in the bank, combing the grounds of the bank wasn’t nearly as difficult or time consuming as it would be under normal circumstances for the average person. In less than a minute, he stumbled upon a stairwell hiding behind an unmarked door in the heart of the bank. Leaping over the rail, he fell to the bottom and landed firmly on his feet, he found a long hallway that led to his destination.

Upon reaching the formidable entrance of the bank's vault, he found himself wrestling with the knob. His efforts proved fruitless as the door stood steadfast, mocking his attempt with its immobility. Unperturbed, he meticulously positioned a pair of sticky bombs on the surface of the massive steel barrier and hastily retreated to the stairwell's summit. From the duffel bag, he fished out the detonator, and despite the seriousness of the heist, a mischievous grin broke across his face, impossible to suppress.

He couldn't help but muse over the irony; the bank had undoubtedly poured an immense amount of time and fortune into their elaborate security measures, yet here they were, his band of rebels, dismantling the intricate system with such ease in hardly any time at all. It was almost pitiful, he thought. Actually, it was downright ludicrous. His laughter spilled forth, a wild symphony of triumph and mockery, echoing throughout, an audible testament that the world was, indeed, at his whim.

"Godspeed, Moebius!" Scourge's voice thundered amidst his cachinnation, the words charged with exhilaration as he pressed the detonator's button, instinctively covering his ears in anticipation of the blast. The resulting roar of the explosion reverberated up and down the stairwell, and he waited patiently as the tumultuous sounds gradually diminished into silence.

Once the echoes faded, Scourge confidently extracted his phone, the screen glowing to life as he connected with Lightning. The phone barely had time to ring before the lynx’s voice came through, crisp and alert. Scourge's instructions were brief and to the point, guiding his accomplice towards the now-breeched vault. With the call ended, he surged back outside to where the rest of the Destructix were already in motion, their figures spilling out of the SUV. They rummaged through the trunk, efficiently drawing out several empty duffel bags, their interiors hungry for the spoils of their venture.

Amidst the organized chaos, Simon distributed guns amongst the crew then took a moment to address Toxic. He crouched down, reducing the distance between them, and offered her the compact firearm that had been selected with her in mind. His voice was gentle yet firm, "Remember what to do with this?" he inquired, handing the weapon to her.

Toxic's response was tentative, her voice betraying the effort she was making to recall his earlier instructions, "Don’t uhm… point it at anyone I’m not gonna shoot and only shoot who they tell me to shoot?" She locked eyes with him, seeking affirmation.

"That’s right. And don’t go anywhere they don’t tell you to go," Simon replied, his nod conveying his approval. He watched as a spark of eager anticipation danced in Toxic's eyes, her small frame barely containing the thrill of their illicit escapade.

"I won’t," she promised earnestly, her excitement manifesting in a series of small, jubilant jumps.

"Good," Simon responded, the shadow of a smile threatening to break through his stoic demeanor. He then lifted his gaze, addressing the collective as he imparted his final piece of guidance, "I’ll call you guys if I hear sirens."

"Right on, Simon," Fiona chimed in, her thumb raised in solidarity.

Without further ado, Scourge issued the command to advance, "This way!" His stride was deliberate, a perfect balance of speed and caution as he led his crew back into the bank's interior, descending towards the vault where Lightning awaited their arrival, ready to lay claim to their prize.

The Destructix charged into the vault with an exhilaration akin to children rushing towards an ice cream truck on a hot summer day.

“Dig in, guys!” Scourge's voice reverberated through the enclosed space, brimming with ebullience, as he flung a duffel bag towards Lightning before eagerly stuffing his own with stacks of pristine hundred Moebium bills.

Fiona joined in the revelry, her whoops of joy punctuating the air as she deftly packed her duffel bag with a precision that bordered on artistry, ensuring every available inch was crammed with the coveted currency.

“Make sure you get these ones, kid,” Predator's voice cut through the commotion, guiding Toxic towards the higher denomination Moebium bills that she dutifully stashed away in her backpack.

In a synchronized rhythm, they continued their plunder, the vault echoing with the rustle of cash and the palpable thrill of anticipation. With each bill added to their bags, their imaginations sparked with visions of the luxuries and enhancements that awaited them. From fine dining to Scourge modifying his newly stolen sports car, and even the prospect of additional cybernetic upgrades for the whole gang beyond Lightning's imminent enhancements for the upcoming siege, the possibilities seemed endless in the glow of their success.

However, amidst the euphoria of their heist, Predator's keen gaze caught a subtle shift in Lightning's demeanor. The seasoned ninja’s ears pivoted, attuned to a sound only he could detect, his expression etched with a steely focus that signaled potential danger lurking in the shadows.

“What is it?” Predator inquired, recognizing the telltale intensity in Lightning's countenance, pausing in his cash-stuffing endeavor, the bills frozen in his grasp.

“That hum…” Lightning's voice was low, his ears swiveling as he zeroed in on a distinct electrical vibration growing in intensity behind him. Without hesitation, he turned his head towards the source, his eyes locking onto a menacing turret descending ominously from the vault's ceiling.

“Hit the deck!” Lightning’s urgent command pierced the chaos, a stark warning that sent everyone scrambling to the floor. In a swift motion, Flying vaulted over, landing protectively atop a bewildered Toxic, shielding her from the lethal hail of bullets that erupted across the room, the deadly projectiles grazing perilously close but missing their marks by mere inches.

Scourge's gaze locked onto the menacing turret, its malevolent intent clear in its automated movements. As the turret momentarily shifted its focus away from him, seizing the opportune moment, he sprang into action, leaping to his feet with a fluid grace honed through countless escapades. With a primal war cry, he executed his signature homing attack, hurtling towards the turret with unbridled fury, his strike shattering the mechanical menace into a cascade of twisted metal. Standing amidst the wreckage, he clenched his fist in frustration, bellowing, “The system’s coming back on! I thought we toasted it!?”

“It was supposed to take down the backup files! Fucker at the black market screwed us over!” Fiona's voice rang out, a potent cocktail of disbelief and fury coursing through her veins, her mind racing to process the unexpected betrayal.

“We have to go! Now!” Predator's voice cut through the tension, his tone decisive as he swiftly rose to his feet, sealing his bulging bag with practiced efficiency. The urgency of the situation hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder that their daring heist had veered perilously off course, leaving them with no choice but to retreat before the full might of the bank's defenses descended upon them.

As they fled from the compromised vault, their footsteps echoing down the dimly lit corridor, the weight of the stolen cash dragging at their arms, a sudden swarm of sleek white armed drones swooped towards them, their menacing presence casting a shadow over the fleeing band of outlaws.

“Feed ‘em lead, guys!” Scourge's command sliced through the tension, igniting a flurry of gunfire as his comrades unleashed a torrent of bullets upon the armored mechanical adversaries.

“Ain’t this fun-run-gun, little girl!?” Flying's exuberant voice boomed above the cacophony, his shots finding their mark with precision, shattering a drone's camera and halting its aggressive advance. Seizing the opportunity, he lifted the lower half of his mask, stretched out his signature elastic tongue, and ensnared the disabled drone before flinging it unceremoniously to the ground, inflicting heavy damage upon its mechanical form.

“Ew, you licked it!” Toxic's voice rang out in a mixture of disgust and amusement, her own shot landing the final blow on the incapacitated machine.

“And it tasted goooood!” Flying's laughter reverberated through the corridor, a wild blend of adrenaline-fueled exhilaration and irreverent humor in the face of danger.

“Keep your mask down, man!” Fiona’s urgent demand pierced through the deafening symphony of gunfire.

Scourge, ever the showboat, decided that the use of a gun was a waste of time as he flung the bulging duffel bag he carried skyward. With a grace that belied the chaos surrounding him, he blurred into motion, moving in the blink of an eye. In a breathtaking display of agility and finesse, he leapt into action, executing a powerful kick that sent one of the drones hurtling towards its two remaining companions. They collided in a spectacular chain reaction, crashing into each other with a resounding clatter before careening into the unforgiving walls like a cascade of metallic dominos.

Proud of the chaos he had unleashed, Scourge continued his lightning-fast maneuvers, a blur of motion as he seamlessly returned to his starting point, snatching the falling duffel bag from the air with unerring precision before it could touch the ground.

With a smug smirk stretching unseen beneath his mask, he maintained a brisk but steady pace, allowing the others to easily follow him. His voice rang out, laced with a taunting edge as he beckoned his crew with a playful shout, "haul ass, slowpokes! Eyes up!"

Fiona's heartbeat quickened in tandem with the rhythm of their ascent up the stairwell when she felt the unmistakable vibration of her cell phone against her thigh. It was as if she had a sixth sense; she knew it was Simon on the other end before she even drew the device from her pocket. With a swift swipe, she accepted the call, and Simon's voice came through, confirming her premonitions.

The police were en route and getting closer by the second.

"No shit," Fiona bellowed back into the receiver, her voice almost lost amidst the cacophony of the bank's alarm system. Her eyes darted around, vigilant for any additional hazards. "The virus didn't fully take the system down like we thought! Guy who sold me the drive fucked us over and now we’re dealing with turrets and drones!”

There was a moment's pause before Simon's voice returned, now laced with frustration. His grip tightened on his phone, his strength inadvertently causing the screen to crack slightly, "Damn…" he muttered, the sound of his frustration palpable, "I’m out front ready to drive when you get out."

"See you in a mi—" Fiona's response was cut short as a sudden, explosive noise caused her to miss a step. Another ceiling turret had been obliterated by Scourge, its remnants clattering down the stairs.

Toxic, caught off guard by the chaos, let out a startled yelp. Her footing lost, she teetered dangerously backward until Fiona's reflexes kicked in. With a firm grip, Fiona caught her by the shirt, halting her fall.

"Watch your damn step!" Fiona admonished with an air of irritation. She then sighed, resigning herself to a solution, "Or, ugh, climb on back, we can’t have you slow us down!" Bending down, she allowed Toxic to clamber onto her back, securing a tight hold.

Simon's voice crackled with urgency through the phone, "What happened? Are you guys ok?"

"Relatively speakin’, yeah!" Fiona shouted back, her tone a cocktail of adrenaline and urgency, "Look, can't talk—there's a lot of shit going on!" With that, she ended the call abruptly, the severity of their predicament justifying the sudden interruption.

The remaining distance through the bank was a blur of gunfire and mechanical wreckage as they dispatched swarm after swarm of drones and turrets. Finally, the Destructix burst through the front doors, spilling out into the moonlight. They sprinted towards their getaway vehicle, tossing the duffel bags laden with cash into the trunk before tumbling into the SUV.

"Everyone in?" Simon's voice carried a mix of composure and haste, the wail of sirens now ominously close.

"FUCKING DRIVE, SIMON!" Scourge's voice erupted, his fist pounding against the dash with a force that echoed his impatience.

Simon needed no further urging. His foot slammed down on the gas pedal, and the car lurched forward, tires screeching as they tore away from the scene of their crime.

Exhilaration pulsed through Toxic as she threw her fists into the air, her voice ringing with triumph, "we did it!"

Fiona, ever the realist, tempered the celebration with a cautious glance over her shoulder. Her eyes widened and a string of curses spilled out as she spotted the relentless pursuit of law enforcement, "almost," she snapped back, noting the sea of flashing lights gaining on them.

"Piggly wigglies have come out to play!" Flying declared with a manic gleam in his eyes, thirsting for the violent confrontation.

Without missing a beat, Fiona barked at Scourge, "Get that scanner on—now!" Scourge, understanding the urgency and following Fiona’s instructions, immediately flipped the switch and dialed up the volume. The scanner crackled to life, and the gang leaned in as they focused on the dispatcher's voice detailing their vehicle's description and last known heading.

The unmistakable blare of the police's ultimatum boomed through their own intercom, "NCPD! Pull over or we will open fire!"

Scourge couldn't suppress a sardonic chuckle, muttering under his breath, "Is that any way to talk to the king and his men?" He then turned to the rest of the gang, his grin sharp and wild, "Get your iron ready, guys!"

Flying didn't need to be told twice. With agile movements, he vaulted over the seats, landing with a thud in the trunk. He rummaged quickly, resurfacing with a cache of assault rifles. He passed the weapons to Lightning, Predator, Fiona, and Scourge with an efficiency born of experience.

With determination, Scourge positioned himself at the window, the cool metal of the rifle in his grasp. He braced, took aim, and as the car swerved to avoid incoming fire, he squeezed the trigger. The sound of bullets ricocheting off metal filled the air as Fiona and the others followed, unleashing a hailstorm of gunfire towards the police vehicles that were in hot pursuit.

“I wanna shoot too!” Toxic’s voice rang out with a mix of eagerness and frustration as she watched the ongoing chaos from the sidelines.

“You’re gonna love this, kiddo!” Flying couldn’t contain his exhilaration, his voice booming over the cacophony of gunfire and sirens, shaking with wild laughter. In a swift, fluid motion, he lifted the lower half of his mask to reveal a wide, mischievous grin. With precision, his extendable tongue shot out, securely latching onto Toxic and pulling her to his side. Ensuring her safety, he held her steady as she leaned out of the speeding car window, her own weapon in hand. Together, they fired relentlessly at the pursuing police cars. By a stroke of luck, or perhaps skill, one of Toxic’s bullets found its mark, shattering a windshield and striking the driver. The ensuing chaos was immediate - the police cars swerved, collided, and ultimately crashed into a spectacular pile-up.

“Attagirl!” Flying’s praise was enthusiastic, though somewhat muffled as his tongue still maintained a protective grip on Toxic, ensuring she remained safe within the confines of their escape vehicle.

“Shh!” The urgency in Fiona’s hiss cut through the adrenaline-fueled air. Her focus was entirely on the scanner on the radio, the static-filled voice emanating from it capturing her full attention. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Predator’s voice was tinged with curiosity as he ducked inside the vehicle, his head tilting in an attempt to discern the message being transmitted.

“We’re completely blocked in,” Lightning’s tone was matter-of-fact, echoing Predator’s movements by also leaning into the interior of the car.

“We can’t carry all this stuff on foot... What’s the plan, bosses?” Simon’s queried, maneuvering the wheel, eyes scanning the road with steely focus.

The tension spiked as the unmistakable sound of helicopter blades cutting through the air reached their ears, followed by the invasive glare of a spotlight suddenly trained on them.

“Hmm…” Predator’s hum was pensive, the gears turning in his mind as a sly smirk began to play at the corners of his mouth, “a helicopter crashing into a police blockade could be very… distracting.”

“Sounds like there’s a blockade straight ahead in about a quarter mile,” Simon interjected, offering critical intel while his gaze never wavered from the road ahead.

Flying’s energy seemed to surge at the revelation, and with a swift, graceful movement, he released his grip on Toxic. He gently placed her in the safety of the seat next to him as he adjusted his mask back into place, concealing his features once again.

“Sounds like a party-arty-farty! Could I pretty please come?” His voice was laced with a playful wheedle as he clasped his hands together and batted his eyelashes in exaggerated anticipation.

"Fine," Predator conceded, a flicker of determination in his eyes as he prepared for the daring maneuver ahead. Without hesitation, he propelled himself out of the window, soaring around the car in a swift loop. The frog's outstretched hands snatched his ankles in a seamless motion, propelling him like a speeding bullet towards the helicopter.

"Alright!" Predator's voice boomed over the roar of the wind, his instructions clear and decisive. "I'll take the right side, you'll take the left. Glide in on my word!"

With precision honed from countless escapades, Predator zeroed in on the left side of the helicopter. As the moment aligned perfectly, he bellowed, "NOW!" The signal unleashed a synchronized assault as Flying swooped into the helicopter, swiftly incapacitating one pilot, while Predator swiftly dealt with the other.

The limp bodies of the pilots were unceremoniously tossed from the aircraft as Predator assumed command, his gaze fixed on the impending blockade and the oncoming SUV. "Jump out now!" his command cut through the chaos, urgency tinged in his voice. As the helicopter dove towards the obstruction, Flying wasted no time, gliding out to safety just in time. Predator followed suit, propelling himself upward like a bullet, his gaze locked on the impending collision below. From his aerial vantage point, he watched as the helicopter collided with the police cars, the explosion engulfing them in a ball of fire and chaos.

Below, the police were thrown into disarray, their attention captivated by the explosion which created a gap in their formation as vehicles were tossed aside. Seizing the moment, everyone in the SUV ducked down, and Simon floored the accelerator, steering the vehicle through the flames. They slipped into the shadows, vanishing from the distracted gaze of law enforcement.

Predator and Flying, now airborne, kept a vigilant watch over the van's trajectory as it wove its way through the ensuing pandemonium below. Like specters in the night, they shot through the air, their bodies silhouetted against the backdrop of flames and smoke, as they made their descent towards the now distant vehicle.

The two remained vigilant from their aerial perspective, their keen eyes tracking the van's trajectory as it weaved through the chaos. With the grace of seasoned acrobats, they soared through the smoke-filled sky, their bodies silhouetted against the fiery backdrop, preparing to rejoin their team. With a synchronized thud, they landed on the roof of the car and maneuvered themselves, finding ingress through an open window to rejoin their comrades within the confines of the vehicle.

With their hearts pounding in anxious anticipation, the team held their breath as the scanner's confirmation echoed in the tense air, revealing that the suspects had slipped away, vanishing into the chaos that surrounded them. Despite the seemingly daunting odds stacked against them, the Destructix had emerged victorious yet again.

(Hey yall sorry this took so damn long life became crazy for a min but thank u so much for waiting! Also there was gonna be more to this chapter but it would have been absurdly long but on the upside chapter 8 is already in the works! Next chapter has a lil….surprise 🫶🤍🩵)

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