Failure Frame Light Novels & Stories

Even from a distance, I could see the red strobe of emergency lights flickering across the windows. Paolo’s phone buzzed again. He answered, listened, then met my eyes. “Main power just failed again. Backup’s running, but cameras are down.” “Then someone’s inside.” “Or the system glitched.” I didn’t reply. We both knew which answer was more likely. The car stopped at the outer gate. Two of my men were already there, scanning codes into the panel. When they saw me step out, they straightened instantly. “Status?” I demanded.

“Are the emergency lights supposed to come on?” “They should.” But they didn’t. Damian moved toward the wall where the control panel sat. The beam of his phone followed him. “Backup generator probably failed,” he said. Evelyn crossed her arms against the sudden chill. “How long will it take to restart?” “Hard to say.” The storm outside intensified slightly, rain beginning to tap softly against the building’s windows. For a moment, neither spoke. The only light in the room came from Damian’s phone. It cast long shadows across the rows of cabinets.

Emergency red lighting clicked on, bathing everything in a dim, bloody glow. My heart slammed against my ribs. “No, no, no—” I whispered. Small spaces have always terrified me. I dropped my bag. My breathing turned shallow and fast. Adam pulled out his phone and pressed the emergency button. A crackly voice answered. “Mr. Kane? We see the fault. Repair team is already on the way. Should be thirty to forty-five minutes max.” “Make it faster,” Adam said, his voice calm and commanding. I couldn’t wait forty-five minutes. I stumbled forward in the red gloom and threw myself against him before I could think.

Another nasty scratch crossed his nose. “Shit, Bran! Your face!” He flashed a reassuring smile. “I’m okay, love. The glasses took the blunt of it and spared my eyes.” His hand came down from my shoulder to wrap around my fingers. “Come. Let’s go upstairs, wash our faces and call Amy.” “Didn’t you say we need to check the other stars?” “The tri-field meters are fried and we only have one KII left, so we’ll let them do it.” “Oh, okay,” I muttered.

A suffocating, gut-wrenching certainty that something had just gone terribly wrong. And then— The lights flickered.

The corridor was dimly lit, but despite the scarce illumination, he could see clearly what had transpired. The white walls were splattered with red and the floors was streaked with blood as if some bastard dragged the dead across to some place unknown. Bullet holes could also be seen on the wall. Lukas walked ahead, passing by the emergency green light above. The next emergency light was deactivated in this part of the hallway probably because of defect or old age, bathing the surroundings in the dark. The next light could be seen ahead, illuminating that section in the same way as the previous one they just recently walked past.

Aiden watched from the counter. Damien caught his eye. “You can dance too, you know.” Aiden hesitated. Then shook his head. “I’ll watch.” “That’s okay,” Damien said easily. “Watching counts.” Aiden relaxed at that. After breakfast, the rain deepened. The power flickered once—then went out completely. Aria gasped. “The lights!” Damien checked his phone. “Looks like the whole block.” May felt a flicker of instinctive worry—then let it go.

“Now.” People scrambled. Weapons grabbed. Radios checked even if they barely worked. Damien fell into step beside me. “You think it’s real?” “I think he’s not bluffing,” I said. We were halfway to the exit when the backup lights flickered overhead. Once. Twice. Then the entire building went dark again. From somewhere deep in the estate grounds, a dull explosion rolled through the air — not massive, but close enough to shake dust from the ceiling. Lina stopped beside me. Neither of us spoke. Because we both knew. This wasn’t another distraction. This time—

Closer. “Power outage,” Gabriel said calmly. “Stay where you are.” I let out a shaky breath. “I hate this.” “I know,” he replied, like it wasn’t new information. I glanced around, squinting uselessly. “Do you have a flashlight?” He shook his head, then paused. “Phone’s in the car.” “Mine too,” I said. Silence again. Closer now. “This section isn’t safe without light,” he said after a beat. “There’s loose wiring, uneven ground. I’ll grab something—emergency lamp or even just my phone. Don’t move, okay?”