Universal Location: Aqualora
Coordinates: Mizu City
Directive: Run
Fear. Purpose. Future. That's all Serath could think about as he ran through the tightly packed streets of Mizu City, putting as much distance as possible between himself and Arkan's grotesque hideout. Everything the masked one had said—the whispered truths and the brutal prophecies—had clawed at his mental defenses, yet the Valorian Warlord had to stay sharp. He was a beacon of the Valorian Dynasty, the Warlord of Valor, and he could not afford the luxury of psychological collapse.
He continued to run, his armored boots—currently employing the silent, shock-absorbing Parkour Suit calibration—gliding over the damp, polished stone. He turned down corners beneath tiered pagodas painted in stark obsidian and crimson, ducking through throngs of citizens conducting their daily transactions. The air hummed with the ambient energy drawn from the great membrane above. He was trapped in a bottle, and the lid was the magnificent, yet oppressive, Transmutation Dome. He needed height; he needed to survey the terrain and find the weakness in this beautiful cage.
A sudden, sharp internal calculation finished. He targeted the nearest high structure—a five-story tower capped with terracotta tiles.
"Warhawk. Initiate Launch Protocol."
The Valorian suit responded instantly. With a blinding flash of compressed thrust, the Jetpack Initiation System (JIS) roared, propelling Serath upward. He rose past levels adorned with softly glowing lanterns and intricate carvings, vaulting himself onto the vibrant red rooftop, scattering a flock of iridescent city birds.
He immediately dropped into a low crouch, his Astro-Gyro Sensor stabilising his landing amidst the curved tiles. From this vantage, the city spread out beneath him—a masterpiece of tradition and futurism built upon the ocean floor of Aqualora. The immense Crimson Gate, pulsing with Nexirial energy at the city's heart, dominated the view, while the circular tracks of the Skyrail of the Spirits arced silently across the void above.
Distance. Distance is life.
Serath was already calculating the most efficient path toward the city's perimeter, the direction he suspected held the deep-sea conduits leading out of the dome. He had barely secured his bearings when the distinct, high-pitched whine of a targeted energy signature ripped through the air.
He knew that sound. It was the precursor to a painful, kinetic impact.
Kravic Bane. The Hunter, stood three hundred meters away on the roof of a colossal administrative tower, a natural apex predator observing its wounded prey. His silhouette was massive, carved out by the ethereal blue glow of the Transmutation Dome above. Bane raised the muzzle of his long-barreled kinetic rifle, the weapon humming with stored momentum.
The Hollow One. The target was fast, but predictable. The Brotherhood had placed a high value on this Valorian, and Bane intended to collect.
The kinetic round, traveling at hyper-velocity, struck the spot where Serath had been a millisecond before, detonating a shower of red ceramic tiles.
Serath, already vaulting across the first gap, felt the concussive force whip against his backplate. "Switching to Dancer Mode," he grunted into the suit's internal comms. The suit's weight distribution shifted, prioritising agility and fine motor control, turning his armored frame into a flowing shadow.
He began the horizontal marathon—a desperate sprint across the undulating sea of red roofs.
The cityscape provided a challenging, albeit beautiful, obstacle course. Serath used the sloping tiles, leaping from structure to structure, utilising the suit's Hyperspertial Sub-controller to judge minute atmospheric shifts and adjust his jumps perfectly. Each contact with a roof was brief, powerful, and immediately followed by the next flight.
Bane's pursuit began in earnest. The Hunter didn't need the elaborate mobility systems of the Valorian suit. He moved with the brutal efficiency of muscle and augmented bone, clearing smaller gaps with massive strides and using grappling hooks to ascend the few towers Serath couldn't jump to.
Thwack!
Another kinetic round grazed the reinforced Reactive Plate Hardening on Serath's shoulder pauldron. The impact was violent, sending a jolt of pain through his arm and knocking him momentarily off balance. He landed hard on a low pagoda roof, skidding dangerously close to the edge.
He's too static. Must break his line of sight.
Serath activated Tilt Mode (Magnetic) within his boots, allowing him to adhere momentarily to a sheer wall during a drop, altering his trajectory and forcing Bane to recalculate. He dashed along the edge of the Skyrail track district, using the pillars for cover, the sound of Bane's heavy footsteps closing the distance.
His mind was a maelstrom of psychological conflict. Was Arkan right? Were the Valorians merely useful dogs for a dying imperium? Serath shook the thought away, focusing only on the immediate, terrifying reality: Bane was a master hunter, and Serath was the game.
He needed a moment. A chance to widen the gap.
As he leaped across a massive central atrium that separated the low-level commercial districts from the high administrative sector, Bane took aim. This was the longest, most exposed jump Serath had made yet.
Knowing a kinetic round would hit him mid-air, Serath activated a seldom-used defensive countermeasure. "Shield Protocol: Sonar Distribution!"
A sudden, ultra-high-frequency pulse exploded from the suit's backpack emitters. It wasn't designed to stop a projectile, but to overload focused sensory input.
Three hundred meters away, Kravic Bane reeled back. The concentrated, directionally targeted sonar blast hammered against his augmented hearing systems, momentarily scrambling his balance and blurring his vision. He dropped his rifle, clutching his temples with a guttural roar of frustration.
The momentary stun was all Serath needed. He landed, sprinted two blocks, and finally saw it—the exit.
Ahead, near the extreme western curvature of the Transmutation Dome, was a massive industrial docking bay. This area handled cargo transfers from the outside deep-ocean facilities—a nexus of complex pipelines that led directly beneath the dome's boundary and into the cold, crushing depths of Aqualora.
That is my escape route, he thought. Bane cannot follow me into the deep water.
Serath pushed the suit to its limits, activating his Phantom Calibration to redistribute energy flow and enhance his speed to staggering levels. The red roofs blurred into a single streak of crimson beneath the luminous blue ceiling.
Bane was recovering, his hunter instincts overriding the pain. He saw Serath's vector—the escape vector. He could not allow the Warlord to reach the water.
Kravic scooped up his rifle and fired a punishing burst, not caring about precision, only area denial. The rounds hammered into the rooftop structure Serath was about to traverse.
Serath felt the kinetic wash hit his legs. Though the Perforated Padding absorbed much of the shock, the targeting system must have been damaged. The suit's right knee joint seized, buckling slightly.
He stumbled, the psychological pain of Arkan's words momentarily mixing with the very real, physical pain of the fall. Run! He commanded himself.
"Drones! Deploy attack package!"
Two small, heavily armed Auxiliary Attack Drones ejected from the Valorian suit's dorsal compartment. They zipped backward, buzzing aggressively as they targeted the approaching Hunter.
Bane didn't even slow down. He kicked a tile off the roof, spun the kinetic rifle with practiced ease, and fired two precise, high-impact rounds. The drones, designed primarily for distraction and light defense, dissolved into metallic shrapnel mid-air before they could even launch their suppression fire.
Kravic Bane was a hunter, not a skirmisher. He knew Serath was running on borrowed time.
The gap was closing. Serath was now sprinting toward the massive metallic lip of the docking bay entrance—the final gate. He was thirty meters from safety.
Kravic Bane made a final, powerful leap, crossing the last major residential street and landing squarely on the platform twenty meters ahead of Serath.
He was blocked.
Bane dropped his heavy rifle, knowing the confined space of the airlock entrance was unsuited for long-range weaponry. He drew a pair of archaic, heavy power blades that hissed with contained energy. The air around him crackled with predatory focus.
"Valorian," Bane's voice was a gravelly snarl, amplified by his helmet. "You've run far enough. The Guild requires your surrender."
Serath skidded to a stop, his own psychological conflict giving way to the cold, necessary clarity of survival. He activated the Electromagnetic Plating, causing a low hum of defensive energy to envelop his armor.
"The Hollow One doesn't surrender," Serath countered, his deep voice carrying the weight of the Valorian Dynasty, even in extremity. He drew his twin energy gauntlets. "But I will secure my escape."
The 1-on-1 clash was brutal and immediate. It was the elegant, refined ferocity of a Warlord against the brute, practiced lethality of a career Hunter.
Bane charged, his power blades slicing downward in a heavy, predictable arc. Serath intercepted the blows with a blinding speed only possible through the suit's enhanced controls. He used his gauntlets to punch, not just with kinetics, but with focused bursts of heat and electromagnetic energy from his Toxistium-charging Bank.
Bane's armor absorbed the hits, though the plates glowed cherry-red where Serath connected. Kravic was too powerful, his mass too great, forcing Serath onto the defensive. Serath leaped backward, deploying his Holo Protocol shield. A shimmering, translucent energy barrier flickered into existence just as Bane rushed forward.
The Hunter slammed into the shield, the impact rattling Serath's teeth, but the shield held. Serath used the moment of contact to counter, unleashing a concentrated blast from his gauntlets at Bane's midsection.
The Hunter staggered back, momentarily stunned by the concentrated force.
Now or never.
Serath knew he couldn't beat Bane in a drawn-out melee; the Hunter was simply too tenacious and specialised. He turned toward the massive, sealed airlock hatch that promised escape.
"Final Protocol. Initiate Hazardous Protection. Divert all power to propulsion cores."
Bane was already recovering, his eyes narrowing, realising Serath's intent. He let out a furious roar and lunged, aiming a punishing kick that connected solidly with Serath's leg. The Valorian crumpled, but he was already hitting the final activation sequence for the gate.
A deep klaxon sounded through the docking bay. The massive lock mechanisms began to turn, grinding with ancient hydraulics.
Bane dropped his blades and tackled Serath, pinning him just as the heavy, circular hatch began to retract into the wall. "You will not leave Mizu City!"
"I already have," Serath gasped, leveraging the full power of his Reactive Force Grid shield to shove Bane off him.
As the gate opened, revealing the dark, pressurised, churning water of Aqualora beyond the dome's protection, Serath didn't hesitate. He plunged directly into the watery void.
The moment he was past the threshold, the suit fully engaged its escape protocols. The exterior armor plates tightened, sealing every joint as the internal environmental systems compensated for the sudden, crushing pressure and temperature plummet. The Elemental Hardening kicked in, reinforcing the structure against corrosion.
"Underwater Mode Activated," the suit confirmed digitally, its internal pressure normalising.
Serath looked up, through the turbulence. He saw Kravic Bane standing in the airlock doorway, framed against the soft red and blue light of Mizu City, the Hunter's face a mask of thwarted fury.
"Launch Protocol engaged," Serath muttered, his voice echoing in his helmet.
A powerful propulsion blast erupted from his boots and back, utilising the last of his dedicated JIS fuel in a massive, single thrust. He was a missile now, plunging into the blue abyss.
The pressure mounted, but the Valorian suit was built to withstand the void. Serath Valorian, the Hollow One, propelled himself away from the lights, away from Arkan's lies, and away from the reach of the Brotherhood.
He was safe. For now. The deep ocean swallowed him whole.