"I am choosing to be offended first."
Sun said it, but his voice carried a sharpness that made even Brin's laughter fade.
The broken floor yawned open in the center of the strategy room. Splintered timber hung jagged around the hole. Dust floated through lanternlight like ash.
One by one, the masked intruders climbed out.
Dark leather.
Mining harnesses.
Hooked blades.
Nets weighted with iron rings.
Men who made a profession of dragging living things where they did not wish to go.
The first pointed at Nyra.
"Capture the Moonfang."
The second pointed at Sun.
"Kill Spoon King."
The room became very still.
Nyra's silver eyes hardened instantly.
For a moment she did not look like a girl at all.
She looked like something that had been cornered too often and survived each time by becoming sharper.
Sun saw it.
And unexpectedly, it hurt.
He knew that look.
He had worn a human version of it in offices, in buses, in hospital corridors, in the silence after betrayal.
Different cages.
Same eyes.
Brin drew her sword with a metallic whisper.
"You idiots tunneled into the wrong room."
Samira sat at the table, calm enough to be insulting.
"You damaged imported flooring."
Varen sipped tea.
"I was beginning to miss interruption."
Sun blinked.
"How are all of you so adjusted to insanity?"
Nyra answered first.
"We were born here."
That landed harder than any joke.
The lead intruder lunged.
Sun moved before thought formed.
Wolf Step.
He blurred forward and drove his fist into the man's throat.
The attacker folded instantly, choking and clawing at air.
Sun caught the falling hook blade and turned with the motion.
Second man rushed in.
Sun slashed too wide.
The blade missed.
The man's net flew instead.
Iron weights wrapped around Sun's shoulders and dragged him backward.
He crashed into the wall hard enough to shake the map table.
"Got him!" shouted one intruder.
"Briefly," said Varen.
Sun snarled, yanked the net tighter with both hands, then pulled the man attached to it headfirst across the room.
Their foreheads met with a wet crack.
Both dropped.
Brin laughed loudly.
"That's inefficient. I approve."
Two more attackers charged Nyra together.
Wrong decision.
She flowed under the first strike like smoke, raked claws across the second man's wrist, stole his dagger mid-motion, then stabbed the first in the thigh before he understood ownership had changed.
The wounded man screamed.
Nyra hissed back in his face.
He screamed louder.
Sun stared.
"You're terrifying."
Without looking at him she said, "Thank you."
He wasn't sure if it was gratitude.
Another masked hunter leapt onto the table, reaching for the glowing black plate.
Samira didn't stand.
She simply took her wine bottle and smashed it across his temple.
Glass burst.
The man dropped unconscious across her ledgers.
She looked offended.
"Now the paperwork smells cheap."
Sun pointed mid-fight.
"I admire you."
"Standards first, admiration later."
Then the biggest hunter emerged from the tunnel.
Broad shoulders.
Scar across one eye.
Twin hooked axes.
No hesitation in his posture.
He looked at the fallen men around the room and did not care.
Then he looked at Sun.
Recognition.
"So," the man said quietly. "You're the mountain stray."
Sun wiped blood from his lip.
"And you're late."
The man smiled without warmth.
"I'm Rokar, tunnel captain of the Red Maw Syndicate."
Brin groaned.
"Oh good. Organized crime. We're upgrading."
Rokar pointed an axe at Nyra.
"She escaped us once."
Nyra's body went rigid.
Her breathing changed.
Small.
Fast.
Sun noticed.
Fear.
Real fear.
Not caution.
Memory.
The kind that lived in bone.
Rokar saw it too and smiled wider.
"You remember the cages."
Something snapped inside Sun.
Not bloodline.
Not rage alone.
A colder thing.
The sight of someone enjoying another person's pain.
He had seen it before.
In lies.
In office smirks.
In fake concern.
In cowards hiding behind systems.
Now it wore axes.
Sun's voice dropped.
"You should not have said that."
Rokar charged.
The room exploded.
Axes carved through chairs.
Sun barely slipped past the first swing.
The second clipped his ribs and sent pain flashing white through his side.
He gasped.
Rokar pressed hard—brutal, efficient, relentless.
Sun retreated step by step.
Wood shattered.
Walls cracked.
Every strike carried killing weight.
"You're weak!" Rokar barked.
"Then stop sweating," Sun spat back.
He used Wolf Step left.
Rokar predicted it.
Axe waiting.
Sun twisted mid-blur and still took the flat of the strike across his shoulder.
He flew into the far wall.
Something popped.
His arm went numb.
For one breath he was back on Earth.
Pinned.
Accused.
Helpless.
Too late to defend himself.
Too weak to stop anything.
Rokar advanced smiling.
"Stay down."
Sun's chest shook.
Not from fear.
From fury so old it had roots.
He rose anyway.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Eyes burning.
"No."
The runed sword in his hand began to hum.
Dark lines crawled across the blade.
System text flashed.
[Emotional Trigger Detected]
[Destruction Pulse Available – Minor Release]
[Warning: Unstable]
Sun grinned through blood.
"Perfect."
He stepped forward.
Not with Wolf Step.
With something heavier.
The room dimmed for an instant.
Then Sun swung.
A crescent of black force tore through the air and smashed into Rokar's crossed axes.
The explosion hurled the syndicate captain through the doorway and into the courtyard beyond.
Stone cracked.
Workers screamed.
Silence swallowed the room.
Sun stood frozen, breathing hard.
His arm trembled violently.
Blood ran from his nose.
Nyra stared at him.
Brin stared at the missing wall.
Samira slowly set down her cup.
Varen looked almost… proud.
Almost.
Then Sun's knees buckled.
Nyra caught him before he hit the floor.
He blinked up at her, dazed.
"You smell like metal."
She frowned.
"You smell like idiot."
"Fair."
Her grip tightened slightly.
Not gentle.
Not rough.
Careful.
Outside, Rokar dragged himself from rubble roaring in humiliation.
Brin grinned savagely.
"Good. Round two."
And beneath the broken floor, more footsteps were climbing up.
To be continued...