The transport module of the fugitive mercenaries smoothly exits the atmosphere, leaving a trail of light behind. Beyond the viewport stretches the inky abyss, and at its center floats Earth—quiet, blue, and fragile, like a delicate gemstone suspended in the void.

  "Course to the Sky City," Alex orders quietly, switching the controls to autopilot.

  Ahead, the station slowly approaches, majestic and silent, like a Titan's ring hanging in space. The gravitational ring sparkles with lights, encircling the central spire where the main airlock is located. This is a city for those who can afford to forget gravity and conscience—a secluded, closed-off world where anything is possible, but nothing is ever simple.

  Julia keeps her gaze fixed on Earth. Through the thin wisps of clouds, the buildings of cities are visible, like silent sentinels stretching upward, as if trying to reach the station itself, hanging beyond time and ground. The skyscrapers, striving toward the heavens, remain silent witnesses of earthly ambition.

  "Beautiful..." she says, a faint trace of sadness in her voice, as if she is drifting too far from what was once familiar. Or maybe too close.

  But the next moment her expression sharpens. She grips the seat tightly, her body tensing.

  "Alex... We're being followed."

  He doesn’t even turn his head. His voice remains calm, almost confident.

  "Beacon. Not the first time they’ve chased us," he confirms, sliding his finger across the holographic panel. In the upper corner of the projection, an image pops up: a dark silhouette of a pursuing craft flickering against the stars.

  "What now?" Her voice sharpens, all her tension focused into the question.

  Alex shrugs slightly, never looking away from the screen.

  "The lab. We'll wipe our traces. We have shelter there."

  The station unfolds before them in all its grandeur. The module glides into its embrace, and for a moment, everything is plunged into twilight. Only the guide lights stretch along the walls like fireflies rushing into the void.

  Inside, the station appears even more fantastical: airy bridges, glass domes, the shimmer of neon signs. Even within the module, the air feels thick and almost tangible—as if the station itself breathes luxury and arrogance, emphasizing its exclusivity and grandeur. Here, no one remembers Earth, and every glance is filled with the void that can only be filled with money and power.

  Alex, still at the controls, activates the disguise. His face subtly changes, his features softening, becoming less recognizable. For a moment, he becomes someone else entirely. A fake identity loads into the memory bank: new documents, new names, new stories. Everything must be perfect, leaving no trace of error.

  Julia stands nearby and simply nods. She's used to these swift transformations. Everything around them is just masks. She wears one too.

  "Done. Just stay close," Alex says with a curt nod and accelerates.

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  They pass through the security checks seamlessly. The officers barely lift their heads, absorbed in their routines. Everything goes flawlessly.

  The module weaves through the traffic flows, heading toward the lower sector of the station. It slips into a tunnel hidden behind a holographic display and, at the turn, glides into its dark depths.

  The platform descends onto a small pad. Beneath them, a hatch opens, and the transport softly begins to lower into a shaft, where cold blue light bathes the metal and concrete. The lift platform stops. Silence.

  The machine locks down. They exit.

  Their footsteps echo dully on the cold metal floor. The technical corridor is narrow and low, with flickering lights and rusty pipes where condensation drips faintly. Somewhere in the distance, the hum of old ventilation grates, as if the station itself is aging before their eyes.

  "Almost there," Alex throws over his shoulder without turning.

  He presses his hand to a disguised panel. A door slides aside, revealing the entrance to the laboratory.

  "Lock the door," he says. Without asking, Julia hits the panel.

  A dull click—the locks engage.

  The laboratory. Dim light, the scent of ozone and plastic. Glass panels flicker with displays, devices hum and pulse in the darkness. In the center— a capsule, glowing with a cold light, like a sarcophagus from a science fiction tale.

  "Lie down," Alex says. His voice is soft but tinged with exhaustion. "We'll start with you."

  Without a word, Julia climbs into the capsule. The lid closes smoothly. A holographic grid instantly forms around her body.

  "Scanning. Bugs detected. Initiating deactivation," a neutral female voice reports, echoing in her ears.

  Julia closes her eyes, feeling currents and waves moving across her skin, as if invisible fingers are brushing over her body. The vibrations gently penetrate every cell.

  "Procedure complete. You may exit."

  Julia opens her eyes. The lid of the capsule retracts smoothly. She slides off the platform, a little breathless but alive. Alex is already nearby, preparing the next set of equipment.

  "Now me," he says, lying down in the capsule.

  Silence falls over the laboratory. Only the pulse of the instruments breaks it. Alex’s eyelids grow heavy, and he closes his eyes.

  Suddenly, right in the midst of the stillness, an alarm wails.

  "Alex..." Julia turns, her heart pounding faster.

  He leaps from the capsule, his eyes narrowing as he scans the monitor. Silhouettes. Three figures at the door. One of them connects a device to the entrance lock.

  "They found us," Alex mutters, tension hardening his face. "That was faster than I expected."

  "Are we trapped?" Julia asks, panic creeping into her voice.

  "No. Not with you," he says, flashing a fleeting smile. He presses his palm to a smooth wall. It slides open, revealing a narrow, dark passage, like the throat of some waiting beast.

  "Quick. Jump," his voice turns firm.

  Julia grabs the container with the kitten, takes a step, and disappears into the passage. She glances back at the last second—Alex is right behind her. The hatch seals with a soft click, vanishing as if it never existed.

  At that very moment, the laboratory door explodes. Shards scatter in every direction. Agents storm into the room, weapons at the ready, their eyes cold and empty like their targets.

  "Clear. They're gone," one of the agents reports, his voice devoid of emotion.

  "They wiped the trackers," another says, glancing at the empty capsule with a trace of regret. "Smart."

  A voice over the communicator—cold, irritated, with a note of menace:

  "Find them. Or I will find you."

  The agents exchange glances, understanding the cost of failure. One signals—move out.

  They vanish into the corridors of the station like shadows, disappearing into its labyrinths, leaving behind only the scent of ozone and emptiness.