One explosion, then three, six... A chain reaction as one of Ginta's bombs ignited stored chemicals. He could feel the building shudder, and tasted acrid smoke filtering through the ducts. His hideout shook and groaned, but he'd placed his bombs carefully towards the building's periphery. Still, he hadn't expected them to be triggered so soon. He had to get out now.

The knife in his hand was sunk halfway into his thigh: blood and pus streamed out around the blade, but the arrowhead was still firmly lodged. He took a deep breath, and twisted.

A fresh explosion shook the building, closer by. Without meaning to, Ginta jammed the kunai all the way in to the hilt. The blades of the airshaft fans caromed into their housings, sending sparks into the darkness. The air conditioner heaved and shuddered to a halt, as its power lines were severed. Emergency sirens sounded in the dark, real ones this time.

He yanked the kunai free, just as another rumbling explosion sent flames leaping into the left-most airshaft. The heatwave that blasted him singed his hair and choked his lungs. By the flickering orange light, he could see blood pooled on the metal. The flames retreated, plunging him into blackness again.

No telling which bomb would go next. He dove for the vent on the right, slipping past the stilled fan, and tried to remember how the hell to get out of here. The building swayed, metal pinged and popped as it heated. As supports gave way. The ductwork jolted to the left and sharply down, and Ginta fell with it, through a collapsing ceiling, into an inferno.