Chase felt like he was in a movie scene. It was the type of scene where the protagonists walked in slow motion across the screen as they headed into battle.

Except, if they died, it didn't really matter; it was a movie. If he died, that was it for him. No respawn. No nothing. He'd be down for the count. That couldn't happen. He had a job to do; he was tasked with leading the squad—which had been allocated a few extra agents. Whether he liked it or not, he was responsible for their lives and the success of this mission.

He felt the pressure sitting up his shoulders. It weighed him down like the titan Atlas, burdened with holding up the sky for eternity.

His fingers tapped against the arm rest of his seat as the jet soared through the gray sky. The sword strapped to his back felt heavy than usual. He stared out the window, the rain hitting the glass like bullets.

Behind him, he could hear Theo muttering to himself. He spoke so fast that Chase couldn't even understand him. ''This is crazy. Like seriously crazy. Did I mention how crazy this is?''

''Theo,'' Emily said from across the aisle.

''Yeah?''

''Shut up.''

Nodding, the brown-haired speedster gulped and followed orders. He resorted to fiddling with his inhaler, which he brought with him on the mission. There was no telling when he'd suffer an asthma attack.

''Yo,'' Oscar called out from the back of the jet. ''How long is this flight to Alaska gonna be? I gotta pee.''

Stella rolled her eyes. ''We told you to go before we left.''

''Well I didn't have to go then.''

Chase cracked a smile, but it disappeared just as fast as it came. His mind was bogged down by the anxiety sitting on top of his heart.

''We're about two hours out,'' the pilot, an agent who went by Blackbird, answered. Along with Cutter, Precision, and Demolition—their heavy artillery specialist—were among the other agents partaking in the mission to Adak Island.

There were ten of them in total on the jet. Director Shaw allowed three other ten-man squads too go out on the mission. The surprise attack on The Acropolis left their numbers depleted. They were going to have to make do with what they had.

The three other teams were tasked with providing cover and fighting off the Kismet soldiers while Chase's company searched for Kane and the Asclepius machine.

It was their job to end this. Once and for all.

Time crawled by slower than a snail moving along a trail of molasses. Chase tried his best to stay calm, to keep his head clear, but that was proving harder than normal. His bright eyes kept traveling to the window even though he couldn't see anything. The clouds were opaque, dense with freezing precipitation.

The rain pouring from the skies crystalized into icy teardrops. A dull, repetitive tapping sound filled the aircraft. He scowled. While their mission suits helped with extreme temperatures, he wasn't fancying fighting in them.

He went over the plan again.

They would land the jet, do a thermal scan over the area, and proceed with caution. The idea was to infiltrate Kismet's base stealthily and to sabotage the Asclepius machine before it was too late. He was sure the massive device was in the ravine, which made things significantly harder than anticipated. Sneaking into something like that without falling to one's death was no simple feat.

They would have to move fast. Smart. And, most importantly, silently. If they got caught before finding the machine, the mission would be immediately compromised. All their preparation, all the lives they lost over the past few days, would've been in vain.

Chase nodded curtly, his jaw taut.

We've got this.

A cluster of silver and black flashed out the corner of his eye. Sitting in the once empty seat beside him was Theo. His hands were shaking. His manic, copper-colored eyes were wider than a frightened deer's.

''You alright, Holland?''

He nodded, displaying a weak smile. ''Yep. Never better. Do I look nervous? I'm not nervous. Who said I was nervous? Are you nervous?'' He whipped his head around while biting his nails.

Chase wasn't sure if he should've laughed or comforted the guy. Considering the circumstances, he went with the latter. He placed a strong hand on his friend's shoulder, steadying him.

''We're going to be fine.''

''How do you know that?'' His lip trembled.

To be honest, he didn't. The chance of them dying was high. He just thought it was the right thing to say at the moment. He was wrong. Theo deserved to hear the truth.

''You're right,'' Chase said. ''I don't know. But what I do know is if we work hard, and as a team, we will make it through this. It's going to be hard, trust me. But we've gotta have faith.''

Faith was something his mother preached about often. She was a devout church-goer; always took her bible with her to the hospital during her day shifts. The woman could recite any verse asked of her. He admired that about her. He hoped he'd be able to call upon her willpower for the upcoming fight.

Beside him, Theo took a few deep breaths. ''Faith...faith. I can do that.'' He smiled. ''Thanks, dude. I really needed that.''

''That's what I'm here for.''

The two of them clasped hands.

The jet jumped, the wings shuddering against the thick air. Chase glanced out the window again. Still nothing. P.A.I's artificial voice rang out through the speakers, urging everyone to remain strapped to their seats.

''Uh, what is going on?'' Oscar asked. He was rubbing his arms, his palms glowing slightly as he activated his ability.

''Just a little bit of turbulence,'' Blackbird replied from the cockpit. ''Today wasn't the best of days to go flying.''

No kidding, Chase thought. According to their pilot, they were only about fifteen minutes outside of Adak Island. They were no doubt soaring over the frozen Alaskan waters. Winter hit this part of the world hard; coupled with the destructive amount of snow, sludge, and ice, the state was plunged into darkness for most of the year.

He couldn't fathom living there. Though, he had a feeling Emily would, though. If any state suited her, it would've been Alaska.

Chase gripped his armrest. It crushed underneath his grip. Oops. He had to get that under control. He was lucky Director Shaw didn't charge him for all the things he'd broken since getting his powers. Had he done that, the boy would've been in a lot of debt.

The sky outside was darker and he could practically see the ice in the air. Cold air seeped through crevices in the jet, slithering up his skin. Shuddering, he urged his body to warm itself up.

The jet rocked again. This time, a series of beeps and alarms went off at the front.

''That is not turbulence,'' Andre said.

''No kidding,'' Emily said. She got out of her seat and waddled over to the pilot's den. ''What's going on?''

''Get back to your seat.''

A scraping sound burrowed into his ear. Eyebrows raised, he turned his attention to the window again. Ice was crawling against the glass, creating a kaleidoscope effect. His brow furrowed.

That wasn't normal weather, no matter how cold it was.

No. Someone was causing it. And he knew exactly who.

''Guys, I think we have a problem—''

The jet shuddered and rocked, leaning to the side. Had it not been for his seatbelt, he would've been thrown to the wall. The restraints dug into his skin as the aircraft fought to stay elevated. Sirens blared as a strobing, red light pulsed around them like an erratic heartbeat.

''Engines have failed. Considerable damage to thrusters,'' P.A.I announced.

Blackbird cursed and started flipping through controls.

''What just happened?'' someone asked.

''Engines froze,'' the pilot answered. ''That's impossible, though. This aircraft was built to withstand extreme heat and cold.''

Chase and Oscar locked eyes at the same time. The fire wielder must have realized it as well. They stared at each other, eyes wide and mouth's shut.

That was when something crashed into the jet. A strange combination of intolerable heat and blistering cold whipped at his face. He raised his arms, covering himself as his blond hair was sent in every which direction.

A smoldering hole was present in the side of the aircraft. Air rushed through the opening, along with beads of ice and water. Luckily, everyone was still accounted for. Emily, who hadn't been in her seat, was glued to the ground.

''Critical damage. Shields at fifty percent.''

Another explosive projectile crashed into the aircraft, resulting in another gaping hole. The back of the jet was up in flames. Smoke swirled around them, wrapping around their throats. Eyes stinging, Chase coughed like he'd been smoking for decades.

''Hold onto to something!'' Blackbird tugged on the gear stick, desperately trying to prevent them from nosediving. Her attempts were in vain. She had no control over the jet. They were tanking fast, bulleting straight for the unknown.

''Aircraft shield at ten percent. Systems critically damaged.''

''Thanks for the update!'' Oscar yelled over the alarms.

Chase grit his teeth, the G-force pressing him to his seat. It felt like a strong set of arms were pushing down on his chest, caving it in. He tried reaching up for the handheld on the ceiling, but he couldn't even manage that. It was like he was stuck in a vat of syrup. A scream left his diaphragm as his stomach threatened to empty itself.

Somehow, Blackbird got the jet to flatten out. The only problem was that they were still falling out the sky. Everyone hovered a few inches above their seats, releasing screams louder than banshees.

''We're all gonna die!" Theo cried.

''I'm bringing her down!'' Blackbird's voice fought for dominance over the whistling air. It nipped at Chase's skin, biting and clawing. His ears and nose reddened while his eyes watered. In the cockpit, he could hear their pilot fiddling with the controls. Seconds later, they shut off, the lights disappearing like the life from a corpse's eyes.

''Systems down. Power rerouting...'' P.A.I paused. ''Power failed to reroute.''

Chase focused on the words of their pilot. Down? That didn't sound good. Even with his durable skin and enhanced regeneration, he wasn't sure he'd survive a full-blown jet crash. And if he couldn't, the others wouldn't live.

''I'm gonna steer her the best I can!'' Blackbird shouted.

Craning his neck, Chase was finally able to see out the window.

They were significantly lower than they once were. White mountains were approaching, and fast. Snow covered everything and anything in sight. He spotted rows of shabby houses, muted colors decorated the tiled roofs. Gravity was tugging the jet forward by the nose. Blackbird was doing her best to steer them level, but it was clear they were crashing face first.

Their only bet for survival was to impact an area with a heavy amount of snow and to decrease their speed. That didn't look like it was going to happen, though.

Another explosion sounded. This one was outside of the jet. Fire erupted on Oscar's side of the aircraft, as the wing was torn clean off after meeting the top of a peak. The boy held his hands out, trying to reign in the flames. He'd been doing that for the other explosions with little success.

''Everyone hold on!''

Chase's eyes widened as they collided with something. The walls and floor quaked. Thick metal panels were ripped off from the walls, exposing the entire left side of the jet. The jet turned on its side, pressing him into the cold wall.

The jet skidded through the snowy landscape. An eternity later, they finally came to a slow, agonizing stop. The now wingless vehicle leaned at an angle, the flames inside and outside swelling like a celebratory bonfire. Debris stuck from the ground, tiny flames dotting the icy land.

Chase blinked a few times, his vision slowly coming back to him. He hadn't even been aware that he'd been unconscious.

Pinpricks shot from Chase's left shoulder to his collarbone. He wasn't bleeding and none of his bones were broken, as far as he knew, but his entire body was warm with pain. Fingers shaking, he tried unclasping his seatbelt. It was stuck. He ripped it away with ease and fell out his chair and onto the wall—which was serving as the floor for now.

The front windshield of the jet had been shattered. Glass—and blood—was everywhere. Swallowing hard, he squeezed his eyes shut. This couldn't be happening. They'd just been shot out the sky and their pilot was probably dead, taking their squad down to nine members.

The other three Atlas aircrafts had been well ahead of them. If they hadn't been taken down as well, they were already at the abandoned military base. There also was no way they could contact them; the jet's power was shot.

Chase's head felt like someone was squeezing it. He tried not to breathe in the smoke polluting the air, but his lungs were screaming for him to taken in some type of oxygen. Wincing, he looked around at the others.

Theo was awake. But it was the first time he didn't look like a caffeine-addict. His eyes were wide, and he was hyperventilating in his seat. Blood trickled down from his nose. Chase crawled over to him and released him from his seatbelt.

''You alright?''

He nodded slowly, his irises dull and glazed over.

On the other side of the jet, Andre was helping free the others. He'd absorbed the material of the jet onto his skin, protecting him from the heat and cold. Once Emily was out her seat, she scrambled for her bow and arrows. She had a hand pressed to the back of her head.

Chase's heart dropped when he saw Stella. A gash had opened above her eyebrow, streaking down her perfect face. She was half-awake, unintelligible groans leaving her mouth.

''Stella,'' he croaked. His throat tightened, tears welling in his eyes. Andre tore her seatbelt away and cradled the girl in his arms.

''I got her,'' he grunted.

Chase nodded at him.

''We're under attack,'' Emily said. She made her way over to one of the holes in the wall. The others—besides Oscar, who was unconscious in his seat—joined her. She was telling the truth.

They were surrounded by black, armored trucks with the fear-inducing crimson logo painted on the side. Mercenaries hopped out the vehicles, machine guns in hand and breathing apparatuses covering their wretched faces. A woman emerged from one of the trucks, her white hair billowing in the cold, ash-filled air. A smile stretched across her bluish lips.

Frost.

Chase caught the sight of Cutter and Precision, who'd been corralled by a few of the soldiers and placed in handcuffs. Their faces were blemished with cuts from the crash.

Behind them, Oscar began to wake up. He groaned.

''What's going on?''

''It's Kismet,'' Chase answered. ''We've need to leave.''

He tried searching for another way out of the jet that didn't involve facing the mercenaries but there wasn't one. The trucks had surrounded the entire perimeter. They were cornered, boxed in like a frightened prey.

Frost strutted up to the jet. Emily notched an arrow and aimed at her head but was immediately shut down by a few laser sights dotting her chest. Begrudgingly, she lowered her weapon and sneered.

''Leave?'' The woman laughed. She placed her pale hands on her hips. Chase stiffened. His hand itched for his sword. Andre gave him a look that yelled don't. Clenching his jaw, he stopped. Andre was right. If they attacked, they'd all be killed in a matter of seconds.

They'd have to accept defeat. For now.

''Why would you want to leave?'' Frost asked. ''We just got here.''