Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

Dylan froze in place, certain images flashing through his mind. His cheeks flushed with an unnatural tint as he awkwardly pushed

her away.

Clearing his throat, he realized he wasn't alone; a few pairs of eyes were fixed on him amidst the surrounding clamor.

"What's the deal now?"

Walter, seeing the girl's charming looks and impressive moves - not to mention her forwardness - felt a twinge of envy.

"Dylan, buddy, you've got sluck. You take a nap and wake up to find we're about to wrap this up."

Dylan rubbed his temples, about to speak, when the girl's hand slowly snaked around his back, locking him in place.

He stiffened, sidestepping away, but she mirrored his every move. His head pounded with a dull ache. Ignoring her for the

moment, he turned to lan.

"What's our play now?"

lan's gaze drifted to Sarah, who had been daydreaming since she first saw Dylan. She snapped back to reality.

"The chaos is probably Philip's doing. He must've figured out we infiltrated the place. This whole stunt is likely just to flush you out.

We can't get that badge off him now; he's gone into hiding, probably bunkered down in the control room - the most fortified part of

the entire compound. If he doesn't open the door willingly, there's no way to breach it from the outside. He's watching the whole

show from there, hoping those test subjects will take us out. And if they don't, he's got the whole pharmacy at his disposal."

blown with Philip. A guy like Philip,

about the infiltration.

Philip would be mad enough

lan was about to ask something,

"Gotcha."

curled into an excited smile as

images of lan and his group were broadcasted on the largest

the high-ups to monitor the central hall, now showed real-tsurveillance of lan

The cameras here were all hidden; there

he had known their

again

and I'll call off the test subjects. If you want to

it."

in, chuckling foolishly, "Philip, this seems

used to play, where only a

then, the ground trembled beneath

take on all these researchers. Even a battle of attrition would break us. Let's

the explosives."

explosives could trigger a quake. We

have to take a chance. If we don't, we're

in the base, and with their faces plastered on the big

and attack

hand, there was no telling what the desperate crowd might use. The best plan was to

scatter the explosives, and set them off. If an earthquake did hit, the doors would be

attackers converged on them from all directions, but Walter

Walter was sent flying with a punch. It was Number 8, who, like