Adventure of Apollo 2

The elevator chime cuts through the smoke. Doors part at the far end of the lobby, and a corporate security team pours out in a tight stack, rifles up, eyes snapping to the bodies on the floor and then to Apollo by the server room.

They fan into cover between the marble planters and reception desk, turning the lobby into a kill box in half a second. One woman in a dark suit steps ahead of the others, palms open but her carbine still trained low.

Apollo stands over the frozen wipe device and the fallen keycard, the jammed server door leaking smoke at his shoulder. The security team keeps their distance, reading the scene fast.

Behind her, two guards split their aim between Apollo and the unconscious operators, waiting for one bad move. The lobby hums with tension, glass, gunmetal, and smoke.

Apollo snaps the grenade underhand toward the security stack, then drops hard behind the planter edge as his other hand goes to the magazine well.

The frag skitters once across marble, disappearing into the gap between the captain and the guards as they flinch and shift their aim.

Apollo comes up low behind cover, fresh mag seated, rifle back in his shoulder while smoke rolls off the jammed server door beside him.

The explosion punches the lobby with a white crack and a slap of dust. Lights flicker, glass rattles, and the security line breaks apart in a shower of marble chips.

When the flash fades, the captain is still up, crouched deeper behind the planter, while the other guards have scattered wider, rifles hunting through the smoke. The frozen wipe device lies untouched near Apollo's boots, blinking on the floor.

Apollo leans out and rakes the lobby with controlled bursts. One guard drops behind reception, another jerks hard and collapses beside the planter, and the third staggers back into the smoke.

The captain snaps her rifle up too late, then flinches as rounds chew the marble edge in front of her. She ducks, shouting for a hold that the shattered line cannot answer.

Spent brass ticks across the floor by Apollo's boots. The wipe device still blinks there, ignored in the gunfire.

Her voice cracks the team loose, but it also clears the lane. Apollo has the lobby front, the planter, and the broken sightline to the elevators.

Smoke rolls thicker through the flickering lights, and the server room door keeps hissing its thin trail of smoke beside him.

The captain and one surviving guard retreat deeper into cover, while the other bodies stop moving. Apollo's position holds, but the next volley is already being set.

Apollo breaks from cover and goes straight for the server room. The jammed door gives under his shoulder and boots, and the smoke spilling out changes from a warning into a path.

Inside, the freeze hits him first, cold air and dead screens. He crosses to the rack, finds the target cabinet already exposed, and yanks the drive tray free.

A backup indicator hidden on the array is still lit. Apollo snatches the module, and a second device tucked behind the panel comes loose with it, labeled for offsite replication.

Her voice carries from the lobby, but the angle is gone now. Apollo has the room, the drive, and the backup copy, while the server door stays half-open at his back.

Apollo drops the smoke canister low and kicks it into the lobby gap. White haze bursts across the broken cover, swallowing the captain’s line of sight in seconds.

He slips out of the server room with the drive tucked tight, shoulders brushing the jammed door as he clears the threshold without a sound.

The lobby becomes a blur of strobing alarms, smoke, and shattered glass. Apollo moves along the wall toward the windows, using the chaos as cover.

Her shout comes ragged through the haze, but the angle is lost. Apollo reaches the window line as the room behind him fills and fades.

Ahead, the glass and frame loom in the smoke, and somewhere behind him boots start to scramble for a new line of fire.