Back when we were on the Amazing Newbie Squad, Trip had been a mediocre shot, with only barely passable proficiency. He’d come a long way since then, and the two of us had practiced this sort of thing hundreds of times. Now he was smooth, moving down the entryway of the nightclub crouched and quick, gun butt tucked into his shoulder, eyes flicking back and forth, ready to react instantly to any threat.

Something had gone down in here. A few lounge chairs had been flipped over. A table was broken. A picture frame had been torn off the wall. Trip came to a stop and held up one hand. He took a knee to inspect something. It was a bloody combat boot. Trip flipped it over with the long sound suppressor screwed onto the end of his gun. There was still a foot inside of it. A trail of blood droplets led away from the boot. We moved on with increased urgency.

I looked behind the bar. Clear. Trip stuck his flashlight inside the coat check. Clear. I couldn’t find a damned light switch anywhere. Trip looked at me and pointed two fingers ahead. I nodded. He moved silently onward.

There was a large opening where the lounge fed into a far bigger room. I had to blink as my vision adjusted. Black lights. Everything in the room that was white took on a glow. Since we were dressed in browns, greens, and grays, the only thing that stood out on us was our teeth and eyes. In the new light, I could see a white mist curling around the floor. The blood trail disappeared into it. There was a fogger running inside. Trip reached the edge, risked a quick peek, then pulled back. He signaled for me to come up and take a look.

The dance floor was huge. The interior was dome-shaped, tapering to a point at the top. There was a whole second level of catwalk, with a smaller dance area and more bars and lounges. The floor was a milky soup of glycerin fog. The illumination shifted and changed as the lights moved around above us on automated tracks. There was a hiss that made me jump, but it was coming from a nearby speaker. Music began to play, some obnoxious repetitive techno bass mix. It was deafening.

Something had just turned all these things on. That something was in here with us.

Trip thumped me in the arm to get my attention and pointed at something on the second-floor catwalk opposite of our position. There was a black figure silhouetted in the lights. I aimed my EOTech at it but held my fire because I couldn’t identify what it was. The lights shifted around on their tracks and then we could see.

“That’s Green!” Trip exclaimed.