And beneath the broken floor, more footsteps were climbing up.
The sound was wrong.
Too many.
Boots striking wood, stone, ladder rungs, tunnel braces.
Men who believed numbers were courage.
Sun forced himself upright from Nyra's grip. His knees still shook from the Destruction Pulse. Blood had dried warm beneath his nose. His right arm throbbed with each heartbeat.
Nyra kept one hand on his elbow for half a second longer than necessary.
Then let go immediately as if caught doing something dangerous.
"You can stand?" she asked.
"No," Sun said honestly. "But pride is helping."
She gave the smallest snort.
That felt like victory.
Outside in the courtyard, Rokar hauled himself from shattered stone.
Dust coated his beard.
One eye swollen.
Axes still in hand.
Which offended Sun on principle.
"That throw should have improved you more," Sun muttered.
Rokar spat blood and roared:
"KILL EVERYONE!"
The warehouse erupted.
Workers ran for cover.
Guards rushed to positions.
Lanterns swung wildly overhead.
Brin launched herself through the broken wall before anyone could answer.
"Finally!"
She hit Rokar like unpaid debt.
Steel rang.
Axe met sword.
Both laughed like people with unusual hobbies.
Inside the strategy room, masked men poured from the tunnel hole three at a time.
Samira looked at the splintered floor, then at Varen.
"This room was expensive."
"Memories are free," he replied.
"That is not reimbursement."
Sun drew a breath and lifted his sword again.
His body protested in multiple languages.
The first intruder came fast with a hooked blade.
Sun sidestepped and cut low.
The man dropped screaming, clutching a leg no longer committed to employment.
Second attacker lunged with a spear.
Nyra moved first.
She sprang onto the table, ran across ledgers and broken cups, then kicked off into the man's chest. He flew backward into two allies like badly organized furniture.
Sun stared.
"You enjoy walls and gravity less than most."
"Walls are suggestions," she replied.
Third attacker hesitated.
Sun smiled.
"Excellent instinct."
The man wisely ran back toward the tunnel.
More came anyway.
This time with shields.
Crude iron-rimmed boards, tight formation.
Sun grimaced.
"Oh no. Teamwork."
They advanced shoulder to shoulder.
Hooks behind shields.
Measured steps.
Professional pressure.
Samira calmly walked behind Sun and handed him a pouch.
"What is this?"
"Pepper dust."
"You carry everything."
"I invest in preparedness."
Sun grinned.
Then hurled the pouch.
It burst over the front line.
Men screamed instantly.
Eyes burning.
Formation shattered into coughing chaos.
Nyra leapt into them like vengeance with claws.
Sun laughed despite the pain.
"That was beautiful."
Samira sat down again.
"I know."
Then the tunnel went quiet.
Too quiet.
Varen's eyes narrowed.
"Back."
Everyone moved instinctively.
A giant iron cylinder shot upward from the hole, trailing sparks and chain.
It struck the ceiling and exploded outward into spinning blades.
A trap weapon.
The room became a storm of metal.
Sun grabbed Nyra by the waist and threw both of them behind the overturned table.
Blades shredded chairs, maps, curtains, walls.
Samira ducked behind Varen without shame.
Brin, still outside, yelled happily, "Do that again!"
When silence returned, the strategy room resembled an argument between architecture and hatred.
Smoke drifted.
The iron cylinder clanged to the floor.
Then a figure climbed out behind it.
Slim.
Well-dressed.
No mask.
Gloves spotless.
Hair tied neatly.
Smiling politely.
Sun hated him instantly.
The newcomer bowed.
"My apologies for the noise."
He looked around at the wounded men, wrecked room, broken furniture.
Then sighed.
"Rokar always sends labor where finesse is needed."
Samira's expression sharpened.
"Kel."
The man smiled at her.
"Lady Dax. Still profitable."
He turned to Sun.
"And this must be the mountain inconvenience."
Sun pointed with his sword.
"And this must be the face I'll forget while hitting."
Kel chuckled.
"Sharp tongue. Limited lifespan."
Nyra had gone rigid.
Different from fear this time.
Hatred.
Raw and immediate.
She whispered one word.
"Cutter."
Kel's smile widened slightly.
"Ah. She remembers."
Sun looked from one to the other.
"What did he do?"
Nyra's claws dug into her own palms.
"He took names."
The room chilled.
Sun frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Kel answered lightly.
"When we process captives, identities complicate obedience. Names are sentimental anchors."
He tapped his temple.
"So we remove them."
Sun felt something cold move through his chest.
On Earth, systems had numbers.
Here, systems erased names.
Same cruelty.
Different tools.
Kel noticed the change in Sun's eyes.
"Ah. Moral outrage. Rural but charming."
Sun's grip tightened until his knuckles whitened.
"What was hers?"
Kel shrugged.
"I don't recall."
Nyra lunged with a scream.
Kel moved like silk in wind.
Too fast.
A thin blade flashed.
Nyra spun midair and landed, but blood ran from a cut across her shoulder.
Sun was already moving.
Pain forgotten.
Wolf Step.
Blur.
Kel parried once, twice, three times with elegant economy.
Each clash sent sparks across the wrecked room.
He smiled throughout.
"I see talent."
Sun attacked harder.
"I see teeth."
Kel slipped aside and cut Sun's side shallowly.
"Emotion wastes motion."
Sun answered with a headbutt.
Kel had not expected that.
Nose cracked.
Blood at last.
The polite man stumbled back in genuine shock.
Brin shouted from the courtyard:
"HIT HIM AGAIN!"
Sun grinned savagely.
"Now we're introduced."
Kel touched his bleeding nose slowly.
Then laughed.
Real laughter now.
No manners.
No polish.
"Oh, I like you."
He drew a second blade.
Twin knives black as oil.
Varen finally stepped forward.
"No."
Kel's smile faded.
He recognized danger.
For the first time since arriving, he took one step back.
Then another.
Then tossed a small sphere into the floor.
Smoke exploded through the room.
Sun charged into it.
Too late.
By the time air cleared, Kel was gone down the tunnel.
Only his voice floated upward:
"Keep the girl for now. I'll collect the boy later."
Sun coughed in the smoke and slammed his fist into the wall.
Crack.
Pain grounded him.
Nyra touched his wrist gently.
"He ran."
"I know."
"You scared him."
That helped more than it should have.
Outside, Brin dragged unconscious Rokar back through the broken wall by one boot.
"I won."
Rokar groaned.
"No you didn't," Brin said, then kicked him once for clarity.
Samira stood amid ruin and looked around.
"My warehouse has become a battlefield, a tunnel entrance, and an emotional support center."
She pointed at Sun.
"You are expensive."
Sun sank onto a broken chair.
"I'm starting to hear that a lot."
Then from the courtyard gate came frantic pounding.
A guard shouted from outside:
"Open! Open now! City Heralds are here!"
Samira closed her eyes.
"Oh no."
Sun frowned.
"What's worse than syndicate killers?"
She looked at him flatly.
"Public attention."
To be continued...