Brass Eagle’s footsteps echoed down the hallway. He tried to make them softer, but it still sounded like anyone in the building would hear him from a mile away. Maybe the Caretaker had planned it that way.

He wondered where Mug and the others were. Surely they wouldn’t have just stayed there, he knew them too well. He would’ve warned them about any possible “clone” attacks, but his headset had been broken in the fight, respectively rendering the others’ useless.

Brass Eagle suddenly detected a small noise, a faint echo from another hall. It was like soft panting. He strained his ears for the noise and crept towards the corner, edging along the wall. Now he really wished his footsteps weren’t so loud.

Bracing himself for anything, he turned the corner.