Chapter 76: Do what we do best

Vivian stood atop the tank like a conquering saint, boots planted against scorched metal, the compound’s floodlights cutting her silhouette into something almost mythic. Below her, soldiers stood rigid with rifles raised, their formation tight but fragile—ants staring up at a boot suspended overhead.

One of her gunmen climbed up and pressed a microphone into her hand.

Vivian rolled it once in her palm, then tapped it lightly.

Thunk.

“Mic check,” she said pleasantly. Another tap. “Mic check, mic check—one, two, three.”

Confusion rippled through the line of soldiers. A few brows furrowed. One or two muzzles dipped before discipline snapped them back into place.

“Keep your aim on that woman,” Callahan barked, his voice rough with grit and command.

Vivian smiled wider.

“Well,” she said, her voice carrying cleanly over the yard, warm and theatrical, “hello there. I do apologize for the… rather dramatic entrance.” She gestured lazily infront her, toward the smoking hole torn through the compound wall. “I know first impressions matter, but unfortunately, subtlety doesn’t get anyone’s attention anymore.”

A beat.

She paced along the tank’s edge, slow and deliberate, eyes gliding over the soldiers below like she was browsing merchandise.

“I’ll keep this simple,” she continued. “I’m not here for all of you. In fact, I’d prefer it if most of you walked away from this unharmed.” A soft chuckle. “Really. I’m merciful like that.”

Her tone shifted—just a degree colder.

“I’m here for someone you already know is hiding in there. Just one person. We take what we came for, we leave, and tonight becomes nothing more than an unpleasant memory.”

She stopped pacing.

“But,” she added lightly, “if you decide to be difficult…”

Her fingers tightened around the microphone.

“…then we’ll do what we do best.”

The tank’s engine growled beneath her, as if on cue. Somewhere behind the wall, something exploded—controlled, deliberate. A reminder.

“We’ll turn this compound into rubble,” Vivian said calmly. “And trust me—” her eyes hardened, sharp as broken glass, “—you people won’t win.”

Her gaze locked onto one man in particular.

Callahan.

Bearded. Broad. Unmoving. His rifle never wavered, trained dead-center on her chest.

Vivian tilted her head, studying him like an interesting problem.

“So,” she said, lips curling. “What do you say, big fella? You gonna save your people the trouble?”

Callahan’s jaw tightened. The yard felt suddenly airless.

“…Who is it,” he asked, voice measured, “that you want from this compound?”

Vivian didn’t answer right away.

She smiled.

“A kid,” she said finally. “Name’s Adrian Carter.”

For the first time, Callahan froze.

His eyes widened—just slightly. Just enough.

He didn’t lower his weapon. Didn’t move. But Vivian saw it. She always did.

Her smile sharpened into something predatory.

“…You know him,” she said softly.

“Don’t you?”

Even inside the compound, my feet wouldn’t stop moving.

They carried me forward on instinct alone, each step sharp, purposeful, my expression hardening with every breath. The alarms outside, the distant thunder of engines, the tension crawling through the walls—it all pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating.

I wasn’t going to let anyone else bleed because of me.

Not again.

A hand clamped around my wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Lila.

I didn’t look at her right away. My jaw tightened, a shadow sliding over my face.

“Let go, Lila,” I said flatly. “I’m serious.”

She snapped back instantly, grip tightening. “You must be out of your damn mind if you think I’m letting you walk out there.”

Heat flared in my chest, fast and violent. I turned on her, voice rising before I could stop it.

“This is exactly why I—”

“She’s right, Adrian.”

Carl’s voice cut clean through the noise.

I looked at him, frowning, the anger stalling just enough to hurt.

“At least let us regroup with the others,” he said, steady as ever. “Make a real decision instead of charging out there headfirst.”

I stared at him, my thoughts spiraling, crashing into each other too fast to sort.

Then I closed my eyes.

Exhaled.

A long, defeated sigh.

Dr. Tekashi’s office felt smaller than I remembered.

Too quiet. Too controlled.

Peter and Jane had already been moved to another sector—far away from here. Isabella… I didn’t know where she’d gone. The thought twisted something in my chest, but I pushed it down. There wasn’t room for it now.

Hale leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, expression distant and calculating.

Aubrey stood a few steps away, rubbing at her eyes like she was trying to wipe the exhaustion out of them. Terri fidgeted with something small in her hands, twisting it over and over like it was the only thing keeping her anchored.

Cherie stood by the window.

She never looked away from the chaos outside, her reflection dark in the glass.

Carl broke the silence.

“This isn’t the first time the Crucible’s surrounded us,” he said slowly. “We’ve pulled through worse. Hell—we’ve done more with less.”

A beat.

He looked at me.

“So, Adrian. What’s the plan?”

“There is no plan,” I said immediately, my voice low and final.

Every head snapped toward me.

“I go,” I continued. “The Crucible gets what they want. They leave this place alone. And you all survive on whatever this compound can offer—for as long as it lasts.”

Lila exploded.

“That is not happening,” she snapped, fury bleeding into every word.

Almost instantly, voices piled on top of hers—arguments overlapping, fear and anger and desperation crashing together. With each one, something inside me hardened further, locking into place.

This was the only way.

Adira’s voice cut through them all.

“Enough.”

The room went still—if only for a moment.

Lila paced behind her, breathing fast, muttering under her breath, hands tangled in her hair. No one looked at her. Or maybe we were all pretending not to.

“Let’s think,” Adira said calmly. She turned to me. “Carl told me about Hyde Park. The warehouse. How you turned the tables on the Crucible with almost nothing.”

A pause.

“You have a… rare mind, Adrian.”

I felt something loosen in my chest—just slightly.

“And I was wrong about you,” she added.

Carl gave her a small, knowing smile.

But then—

“Is there any chance,” Adira continued, “that something like that could happen again?”

“It can’t,” I said evenly.

The room felt colder.

“We don’t have the infected,” I went on. “We don’t have surprise. And I’m betting they expect us to make a move. They’ll be ready for whatever we try.”

The air went stale.

Heavy.

Before I could add anything else, Cherie spoke, her voice sharp and grounded.

“They’re getting impatient,” she said, eyes still on the window. “If we’re doing something, it has to be now.”

I exhaled slowly through my nose.

Turned.

Started for the door.

A hand grabbed me.

I spun—

Not Lila.

Aubrey.

Her grip was firm. Unyielding.

“If you’re going,” she said calmly, “then you’re not doing this alone.”

I looked around the room.

Hale’s jaw was set. Terri had stopped fidgeting, eyes steady. Cherie finally turned from the window, something fierce and resolved in her gaze. Carl met my eyes, unwavering.

Expressions carved from steel.

The kind that followed you anywhere.

Even to hell.

I swallowed.

“…Fine,” I said.

And for the first time since the Crucible arrived, I didn’t feel completely alone.

“Tick. Tock.”

Vivian’s voice carried easily over the compound—light, playful, wrong. She lifted her wrist, tapping at an imaginary watch, then looked back down at Callahan with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“…Well,” she said pleasantly, “guess I’m just gonna have to bring this whole place down.”

Callahan’s eyes widened.

He opened his mouth—

But before a single word could escape him, the sea of soldiers below Vivian began to part.

Like water split by something inevitable.

My heart thudded as I stepped forward.

I felt them close in around me—Aubrey at my side, Hale just behind, the others forming a tight wall of bodies and resolve. Lila walked silently, her expression dark, unreadable, something tightly leashed simmering beneath her skin.

She was just going to have to understand.

I swallowed.

I only hoped—desperately—that someone would find a way to help her even without me.

When we reached the front, the open space between us and the tank felt enormous. Exposed.

Vivian’s smile widened the moment she saw us.

“Well, would you look at that,” she drawled. “The infamous little band of shitbags, traitors, and roaches that just… refuse… to die.”

Her gaze slid lazily across the group before settling on Cherie.

Cherie didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.

Cold. Unwavering.

“Oh?” Vivian tilted her head. “And look what the cat dragged in. I see you fit in quite well with your new family.”

A pause.

She smiled again—sharper this time.

“That’s fine. I don’t need you anymore.” Her eyes gleamed. “I found myself a new pet.”

My stomach dropped.

She gestured casually to her side.

And there she was.

Hailey.

My breath caught hard in my chest.

A gun was strapped tightly to her torso. The confident hair she once had gone. She didn’t even look at me—her gaze distant, hollow. Blood trickled slowly from her nose, drying dark against her skin.

My fists clenched until my nails bit into my palms.

What the hell did she do to her?

Vivian’s voice cut back in, breezy as ever.

“Oh—but you can have these back, though.”

She flicked her fingers.

One of her soldiers stepped forward and tossed something through the air. Cherie caught it on instinct—her studded bat and her bedazzled letterman jacket.

They were slick.

Still wet.

Blood.

Cherie grimaced, jaw tightening, but she didn’t look away.

Vivian stretched her arms overhead like she was bored.

“Anyway,” she sighed, “this little band’s gotta break up. Shame, really.”

Her gaze locked onto me.

Predatory. Intent.

“Come to mama, sweet thing.”

My feet moved before my mind could catch up.

One step.

Then—

Cold metal kissed my throat.

My breath hitched as a body slammed into my back, arms wrapping tight around me. The knife pressed closer, just enough to promise everything.

The world froze.

Gasps rippled through the group.

Vivian’s smile vanished, irritation flashing sharp across her face.

“I’ll kill him where he stands,” Lila hissed, her voice trembling with something far beyond fear. “Everything you’ve done—everything you planned—will be for nothing.”

Vivian folded her arms slowly.

Aubrey’s face went pale.

“Take me with you,” Lila demanded.

Vivian arched a brow.

“I’LL KILL HIM,” Lila screamed, the knife biting closer, my pulse roaring in my ears. “I swear I will.”

Her eyes were wild now—veins spiderwebbing red, tears and fury bleeding together.

“And then,” she went on, breath hot against my ear, intimate and terrifying, “I’ll kill myself. So you don’t even get the luxury of doing it.”

My chest barely moved. Every breath felt like it might be my last.

“That’s if,” she whispered, “you don’t take me with you.”

One of Vivian’s soldiers stepped forward instinctively.

Vivian lifted a single hand.

They stopped.

She sighed, long and theatrical, like this was all such a nuisance.

“Well,” she said lightly, lips curling back into a smile, “if that’s what you want…”

Her eyes gleamed.

“Have it your way… but don’t think this won’t be fun.”

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