Reincarnated as an Apocalyptic Catalyst
Chapter 70: Alarming Developments

Chapter 70: Alarming Developments

The moment the alarm blared through the vault, Ronan moved. Not with hesitation, not with a moment’s pause to consider alternatives—just pure, unfiltered brute force and instinct. His fingers flexed, digits clenching and energy sparking around his hands as he prepared to, I assume, blast the threat into silence.

"Ronan, stop," I hissed, grabbing his wrist before he could blast the source of the noise.

He looked at me, expression blank but eyes sharp with focus. "Disabling the alarm."

"With force?"

"It would have silenced the alarm. It was the most efficient way to put an end to our detection"

"Yeah, no. You blowing the thing up would just make things worse. And in case you forgot, you just ripped through a wraithborn like it was an inconvenient cobweb not that long ago. If we let them piece two and two together and get ’Oh shit, the ruins of this vault look a lot like that last incident’ you could bring down the entire academy on us, students, professors, and security alike."

Ronan stared at me. His simple mind working on overtime as he tried to figure out a response. And then, as I feared, he said the words that always precede regret.

"I have an idea."

I sighed, rubbed my temple, and debated my life choices. "Do I even want to know?"

"I will launch you through the vent shaft while simultaneously detonating a diversionary explosion to mask our exit."

"Uh-huh." I nodded sagely. "And then?"

"You will ideally survive."

"Ideally."

"Yes."

I inhaled deeply through my nose, held it, and then exhaled. "Okay, buddy, new plan."

Before he could protest, I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him close. The shadows curled around us, the world blurred, and in the next blink, we were outside the vault, the sound of alarms muffled behind thick walls. I didn’t wait for Ronan to process. Another step, another pull into the void, and we slipped across the hall just as security rounded the corridor.

[Shadow Dance Activated]

[Mana: 80/100]

The guards skidded to a stop, wands raised, confusion rippling through their ranks. They weren’t stupid. They knew someone had been there. But now? Now we were ghosts, whispers in the dark.

"Calculating displacement," Ronan muttered. "Unusual sensation."

"For fuck sake Ronan, you are not a robot. I don’t know what I did to make you this way, but YOU... ARE... NOT... A... ROBOT!" I quickly shut the hell up, as I was bringing a lot of attention to our position. "We just jumped between the shadows, it’s like magic. Welcome to the wonderful world of cheating physics. Just stand still and look pretty, so I can fix this," I said, already reaching for the next step. My reserves weren’t bottomless, but we had to get the hell out before they locked down the sector.

[Shadow Dance Activated]

[Mana: 60/100]

One more shadow dance took us down the hall. Another carried us into an adjacent storage area, where rows of crates stacked like forgotten treasures lined the room. I slumped against one, exhaling as the exertion caught up with me.

"Status?" Ronan asked, scanning me with those eerie blue optics of his. Eyes... He had eyes, not optics. Pretty soon I’ll actually start believing he is a robot.

"Peachy," I muttered. "Just give me a second."

He nodded, inquiring once more. "Escape plan?"

I peered around the corner, listening to the distant sounds of security spreading out, searching. I glanced at Ronan.

"We move carefully, find an exit, and most importantly—" I jabbed a finger at his chest. "No more brilliant ideas."

Ronan tilted his head slightly. Then, after a beat, he nodded. "Understood."

We didn’t have much time. The alarms were still wailing, echoing through the facility like a death knell, and it wouldn’t take long before someone smarter than the average grunt started piecing things together.

I forced myself upright, shaking off the lingering fatigue from the rapid chain of Shadow Dance. My reserves weren’t dead yet, but I couldn’t afford to be reckless.

"Alright," I muttered, pulling Ronan toward the back of the storage area. "We need a way out of here that doesn’t end with us in a prison cell, or worse."

Ronan’s eyes glanced around the area as he scanned the space, hopefully coming up with a legitimate plan this time, but I had little faith. "Several potential routes detected."

I slapped him in the face... To his credit, he didn’t lash out, he just touched his reddening cheek and looked confused.

"Ronan, this isn’t your fault, clearly some sci-fi bullshit memories combined with me teasing you to make you think so, or whatever the problem is. But the whole point of taking you with me and doing these sorts of things is to help you establish a normal human way of talking and interacting with people. We don’t have time for nonsense.

Ronan took a while to take this all in and his demeanor changed a little bit, he appeared more relaxed, far less rigid.

"We should still use the vents." He pointed to indicate his potential method of escape.

I exhaled, considering. "Good... Good... And what secondary options do we have?"

Ronan hesitated, before cautiously stating, "I don’t want you to hit me again."

Great, now I feel bad.

"I’m sorry Ronan, please continue with your Plan B.

Ronan turned, gesturing toward a section of the wall. At first glance, it looked solid, but his eyes had caught something mine hadn’t—tiny fractures in the structure, weak points in the integrity.

"With sufficient force, I can remove this obstacle. It may lead to an adjacent maintenance corridor," he explained. "However, it will make a lot of noise."

"It’s not like we have been the most graceful thieves," I replied with a sigh.

Ronan considered my state for a moment before nodding. "I understand. Proceeding with Plan A."

I held up a hand. "No, no—hold up. Just how much force are we talking?"

Ronan flexed his fingers. "Enough."

I had a very bad feeling about that. "Enough to break through the wall but not enough to, say, cave the entire damn room down on us?"

He blinked. "I don’t know. Let me think."

"That would be a great idea, Ronan."

Before he could, the sound of approaching footsteps killed whatever plan we were about to settle on. The guards were closing in.

"Shit. Okay, okay, Plan A it is." I shouted, pulling him toward the ventilation shaft he’d mentioned earlier. "I’m not in the mood to explain to the next squadron why my buddy just Kool-Aid Man’d his way through a restricted section of the Academy."

The shaft was narrow, barely big enough for Ronan’s broad frame, but we made it work. I went first, sliding in with practiced ease. Ronan followed, the metal groaning as he maneuvered his way through the cramped space.

The second his legs disappeared, the door to the storage room burst open. We both froze.

"Clear!" a voice called, followed by the shuffling of boots. "They’re close. Lock down the perimeter."

I held my breath, gripping the sides of the shaft. Any noise, any misstep, and we’d be dragged out like rats in a trap.

Ronan, for once, remained still.

The guards lingered for another agonizing minute before moving on. I let out a slow breath.

"Alright," I whispered. "Now we crawl."

Ronan shifted behind me. "You crawl. I will navigate accordingly."

"...That better not be code for ’I’m going to blast through the vents.’"

Ronan said nothing. Which was not comforting.

Gritting my teeth, I pushed forward, hoping that by the end of this, we’d still have all our limbs attached—and, more importantly, that Ronan didn’t decide to ’optimize’ our escape by blowing another hole in the damn place.

Crawling through air vents was exactly as uncomfortable as it looked in the movies, likely more so. Tight, dark, full of dust and the occasional loose bolt just waiting to jab into my ribs. At least Ronan wasn’t making it worse.

"Status?" Ronan’s voice came from behind me, still cold and clinical, but at least a little softer than usual. Maybe he was finally learning how to whisper.

"Crawling through a glorified metal coffin with a guy who thinks explosions are the answer to all life’s problems. Yeah, we’re doing great."

I reached a fork in the vents and hesitated. One way sloped downward, hopefully leading to an exit. The other veered upward—probably to the rooftops. Both were risks.

Ronan’s eyes darted about the area. "Left leads to maintenance access. Right leads to a potential rooftop escape."

"Define ’potential.’"

"It goes up, the roof is up, potential rooftop escape. I am not sure how much longer this will support our weight."

I glanced back at him, then at the vent. I was surprised it hadn’t collapsed already. "Yeah, no thanks. We go left."

I shimmied forward, trying not to make too much noise. The alarms outside had died down, but that didn’t mean we were in the clear. Security would be swarming every exit, and unless we wanted to be cornered, we had to move fast.

The vents opened into a small maintenance closet, just big enough to fit a couple of mop buckets and some janitorial supplies. I carefully kicked the grate loose and peeked out. The hallway outside was dimly lit, the polished floors reflecting the flickering glow of dying emergency lights. The coast looked clear.

I dropped down first, landing in a crouch. Ronan followed, significantly less graceful. He landed with a solid thunk, his impact rattling a shelf.

I winced. "Subtle."

He adjusted his stance. "I am fine."

"I didn’t ask, but good to know."

I pressed my ear to the door, listening. Footsteps. Close, but not too close. We had seconds before this place got swept.

"We need an exit," I whispered.

Ronan turned to the supply shelves, checking their contents. He plucked a canister of industrial-grade cleaner and turned it over in his hands.

"Ronan, unless you’re about to pull off some chemistry magic and turn that into an invisibility potion, we don’t have time to—"

He popped the cap, poured the contents onto the floor, and grabbed another bottle. Then another. A sharp, eye-watering stench filled the room.

Ah... "You’re making a chemical hazard," I muttered, rubbing my temple.

"Yes. The ventilation systems may activate to clear the area. We can use the distraction to bypass security."

I opened my mouth to argue, but damn it, he wasn’t wrong. Wait, what does he mean they may activate?

The sound of boots echoed in the hall. No more time to plan.

"Fine, but if I die from the fumes, I’m haunting your ass."

Ronan didn’t respond. Instead, he yanked the door open, kicked over a bucket of detergent, and let the chemical spill spread across the floor.

"This may result in a fire hazard." Ronan warned.

"You are a fire hazard." I retorted.

The second the guards rounded the corner, the ventilation system clicked to life. Fans roared as fresh air pumped in, triggering a minor evacuation alarm for hazardous conditions.

The guards hesitated. They weren’t wearing proper filtration masks, which meant they had two options—leave or sufficate.

I didn’t wait to see what they’d pick. I grabbed Ronan and darted down the opposite hall, slipping past the growing cloud of chemicals before it could catch up to us.

Behind us, a voice crackled over a comm unit.

"We have a contamination alert in sector six. Dispatching cleanup team."

I glanced at Ronan. "You know, for a guy whose first solution was ’punch it,’ that was surprisingly clever."

He nodded, ever so slightly. "Yes."

I rolled my eyes. "Let’s just get the hell out of here, but once we are safe, I kind of want to open you up and see if you really are a robot."

We slipped into a stairwell, heading down to what I hoped was an exit. At this rate, all I wanted was fresh air and a severe lack of alarms in my life.

But knowing our luck? That wasn’t happening anytime soon.