Kojo's gauntlets blazed gold as he crushed a man's skull.
The man had been named Joren. Crimson Jack. Twenty-three. Wanted to open a bakery after the war.
Now he was just meat wearing black eyes.
The Pity inside him didn't care about dreams. Didn't care about names. Just piloted the corpse forward.
Attacking. Killing.
Kojo tried not to think about it.
Failed.
"Left!" Rhea's voice cut through. She moved like water—precise, lethal, necessary. Her blade took a possessed
woman's head clean off.
The woman had been Iron Crescent. One of Rhea's own.
Blood sprayed. The body dropped.
Rhea didn't stop moving. Couldn't afford to.
They were surrounded.
Western district. What used to be a marketplace. Now just rubble and bodies and things that looked human
but weren't anymore.
Possessed gang members swarmed them. Crimson Jacks. Violet Tongues. Black Sparrows. People they'd
fought beside. Bled beside. Trusted.
Now puppets. Piloted by fragments of cosmic hunger.
Kemi fought beside them. Twin blades singing. Always three steps ahead. Reading the battlefield like sheet
music.
"Breach northeast! Jax, collapse that corridor! Mora, sound barrier on the western approach!"
Her voice carried over the chaos. Command. Authority. The backbone that kept Iron Crescent functioning
when everything fell apart.
Jax's mohawk was matted with blood as he fired resonance bursts. "On it!"
Mora's hands moved in complex patterns. Sound solidified. Created walls that bought them seconds. Lives.
Tzark and his three volcanic brothers formed a wall of heat. Four aliens moving as one. Molten fists punching
through possessed. Their skin glowed orange-bright. Angry. Grieving.
"They were our people!" one brother rumbled.
"They *were*," Tzark agreed. Voice heavy. "Not anymore."
Vess and his six-armed sister fought back-to-back. Eight arms. Eight weapons. Perfect coordination through
sign language too fast for most to follow. They'd been doing this their whole lives. Reading each other.
Surviving together.
Kaela and the other shapeshifters phased through the swarm. Shifting forms mid-strike. Guard uniforms.
Shadow forms. Officer faces. Confusing the possessed. Creating openings.
But it wasn't enough.
"How many?!" Kojo crushed another. His voice was raw. Not from exertion. From grief compressed into
violence.
"Too many!" Rhea blocked a strike. Countered. Killed. "We need to fall back—"
"To where?!" He gestured at the chaos. "They're everywhere!"
More possessed poured from alleyways. Jerky movements. Black eyes. Wrong.
Kojo's gauntlets—fused with his arms now, permanent golden metal—moved faster. He was stronger than
before. Divine-level. The God of War's blessing still coursing through him.
It wasn't enough.
Because he was fighting friends. And every kill broke something inside him that wouldn't heal.
A young woman lunged. He recognized her. Sparrow. Sixteen. Had just started learning to fight.
He caught her arm. Tried to restrain without killing.
She bit his shoulder. Drew blood through the metal.
He threw her off. She came again. Relentless.
Rhea's blade took her through the chest.
The girl collapsed. Black eyes fading to normal as the Pity fled.
For just a moment—dying—she was herself again.
"Commander...?" Confusion. Fear. "What's happening?"
Then gone.
Rhea stood over her. Face carved from stone. "I'm sorry."
More came.
Always more.
Kojo and Rhea fought back-to-back. A dance they'd perfected over years. She covered his openings. He
protected her flanks.
But they were slowing. Tiring.
"We can't keep this up," Rhea said. Voice steady. Always steady. Even when everything burned.
"I know."
"Kojo—"
"I *know*."
Then the Church forces arrived.
They came from the east. Armored soldiers. Resonance rifles. Moving in formation.
Led by a commander Kojo recognized. Church insignia on his chest. Mid-forties. Scarred face. The kind of
man who'd killed people and slept fine after.
Commander Valen.
He'd led raids on the Morrows. Burned homes. Arrested "heretics." Good at his job. Hated for it.
He stopped. Saw Kojo and Rhea surrounded.
Raised his rifle.
Then the possessed hit his flank.
Not gang members this time. Church soldiers. His own men. Turning on their squad with black eyes and jerky
movements.
Valen's formation broke.
Chaos.
His soldiers fired. At their own. Hesitating. Confused. "Stand down! What are you—"
The possessed didn't stand down.
They attacked.
Valen's men fought back. Desperate. Efficient. But struggling because these were their *brothers*.
Kojo watched. Realized.
"They're fighting the same thing we are."
Rhea followed his gaze. Saw Church soldiers killing possessed Church soldiers. Saw the same horror. The
same grief.
"The Pities don't discriminate," she said quietly.
"No. They don't."
For a moment, they just stood there. Enemies twenty feet apart. Both surrounded. Both losing.
Then Kojo made a choice.
He charged toward Valen.
"Kojo, what are you—" Rhea followed. Had to.
Kemi saw it. "Boss, wait—" But she was pinned down. Couldn't follow. Just watched as Kojo crossed the
battlefield.
Valen saw him coming. Raised his rifle. "Hold!"
Kojo didn't slow.
The gauntlets blazed. He crashed into the possessed between them. Cleared a path. Reached Valen.
Stood face-to-face with a man who'd burned his home.
Valen's rifle was aimed at his chest.
"You see what's attacking us?" Kojo's voice was low. Dangerous. "You see what your precious Church brought
into this city?"
"Stand down or I—"
"You'll what?" Kojo gestured at the chaos. "Shoot me? While those *things* kill your men? While your soldiers
turn into puppets and attack their own brothers?"
Valen's jaw tightened. His finger on the trigger.
But he didn't fire.
Because Kojo was right.
"Look around." Kojo's voice dropped. Not threatening anymore. Just... tired. "We're both fighting the same
enemy now. Your people. My people. All of us dying to the Cult's monsters. Are you really going to keep
following orders to kill *me* when *that*—" He pointed at a possessed soldier tearing into a civilian. "—is
what's actually destroying everything?"
Valen stared. His men were dying. The possessed were spreading. And this gang leader—this *criminal*—was
offering an out.
"Why should I trust you?"
"You shouldn't." Kojo met his eyes. "But your other option is dying here. Alone. While your men become
puppets. Is that what you want?"
Silence.
Then: "What are you proposing?"
"Truce. Temporary. We fight the Pities together. Protect whoever's left. Church. Gangs. Civilians. Doesn't
matter. Just people trying to survive."
"And after?"
"After, you can try to arrest me if you want. But first, we save the city."
Valen looked at his men. Saw them falling. Saw the possessed overwhelming his formation.
Looked back at Kojo.
Made his choice.
"Fall back to defensive positions!" His voice carried. Command authority. "Coordinate with—" He almost
choked on the words. "—the resistance forces. Combined fire. Target the infected. Protect the civilians."
His soldiers hesitated. Looked at each other. At the gang members they'd been fighting yesterday.
"That's an ORDER!"
They obeyed.
Slowly. Reluctantly.
But they obeyed.
The battle shifted.
Church soldiers and gang members fighting side-by-side. Not allies. Not friends. Just people who'd realized
the alternative was worse.
Kojo crushed possessed with his gauntlets. Valen's soldiers provided covering fire. Rhea coordinated flanking
maneuvers with Church sergeants who'd tried to kill her last week.
Kemi was everywhere. Directing. Organizing. "Jax, reinforce the northern line! Mora, we need sound
suppression on that cluster! Tzark, push forward—create space!"
The aliens moved as one coordinated force. Tzark and his brothers like a volcanic wall. Vess and his sister
like a bladed storm. Kaela and the shapeshifters like ghosts in smoke.
It was messy. Chaotic. Wrong in every way that mattered.
But it *worked*.
They pushed back the possessed. Created a perimeter. Pulled civilians into the safe zone—people who'd been
hiding in rubble, praying to gods who weren't listening.
An old woman stumbled forward. Bleeding. Terrified.
A Church soldier helped her to cover.
Jax gave her water.
Neither spoke. Just moved on to the next crisis.
Kojo saw it. Felt something twist in his chest.
This is what they could've been. If the Church hadn't oppressed. If the gangs hadn't retaliated. If everyone had
just remembered they were *people* first.
But it took an apocalypse to get here.
A possessed charged him. Face he recognized. Violet Tongue named Kessa. She'd made him laugh once.
Told jokes that weren't funny but made him smile anyway.
Now she was trying to tear his throat out.
He caught her. Held her at arm's length. She clawed. Bit. Relentless.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Snapped her neck.
Let the body fall.
Moved on.
The cost of survival was written in names he'd never forget.
Behind him, Valen fought with brutal efficiency. No hesitation. No mercy.
But Kojo saw it. The way his jaw tightened when he killed one of his own men. The way he closed their eyes
after.
Even monsters grieved.
"Northeast perimeter collapsing!" Someone shouted.
Kojo turned. Saw the breach. More possessed pouring through.
He charged. Rhea beside him. Valen's soldiers covering.
They hit the breach together.
Golden gauntlets. Resonance rifles. Rhea's blades. Church barriers. Gang explosives.
Everything they had. Thrown at the tide.
And it held.
Barely.
But it held.
Ilias ran through the burning city.
Torrin had gone north. Said he'd handle the eastern district. Told Ilias to find his brother.
"You'll need each other for what's coming."
Ilias hadn't argued.
He moved fast. Staff blazing. Cutting through possessed that got in his way. Not fighting. Just *moving*.
Searching.
Where was Kojo? Where was Rhea?
The city was chaos. Smoke. Fire. Screaming.
He followed the sound of heavy combat. Followed his instincts.
Followed the feeling of *family*.
Turned a corner.
Saw them.
Kojo. Rhea. Surrounded by Church soldiers and gang members fighting together. A perimeter of desperate
cooperation.
And in the center—his brother. Golden metal arms. Fighting like a god. Bleeding like a man.
"Kojo!"
His brother's head snapped around.
Their eyes met.
Relief. Shock. Joy. All compressed into one moment.
Ilias ran. Staff cutting through possessed between them.
Reached the perimeter. Church soldiers almost shot him. Kemi stopped them. "He's with us! Stand down!"
Ilias crashed into Kojo. Grabbed his shoulders. "You're alive."
"So are you." Kojo's voice was rough. Grateful. "Thought you were—I felt your power spike and then—"
"Long story. Tell you later." Ilias looked around. Saw the situation. "What is this?"
"Temporary truce." Kojo gestured at Valen. "Church commander. We're fighting the Pities together."
"The *Church*?"
"Desperate times." Rhea appeared beside them. Bloody. Tired. But standing. "Enemy of my enemy."
Ilias stared. Tried to process.
Then a possessed broke through. He destroyed it without thinking. Staff blazing with frequencies that
shouldn't mix.
The Church soldiers watched. Wary. Awed.
Tzark's volcanic skin pulsed orange. "The Blessed."
Vess's eight arms folded in respect.
Kaela shifted to gold—honor colors.
Valen approached. "You're the Blessed."
"I am."
"You're helping us?"
"I'm helping *people*." Ilias met his eyes. "Church. Gangs. Doesn't matter. Just people trying to survive. If you
have a problem with that—"
"I don't." Valen's expression was unreadable. "Today. Tomorrow might be different. But today, we need you."
Ilias nodded. Turned to Kojo. "Where's everyone else?"
"Scattered. Fighting across the city. Mira's running medical. Seraph went after her family. Reverb's on comms."
"We need to regroup."
"We will." Kojo gripped his shoulder. "But first, we hold this position. Protect these people. Then we find the
others."
"And after that?"
"After that?" Kojo's expression hardened. "We end the thing that created these monsters."
Ilias felt his staff hum. Agreement. Certainty.
"Together."
"Together."
Then Kemi's voice cut through. Sharp. Urgent. "Boss! We have a problem!"
Everyone turned.
She was at the perimeter's edge. Looking south. Where smoke rose thicker. Where the sounds of battle
were... changing.
Kojo moved to her side. "What is it?"
"Lower Morrows. The evacuation zones." Her voice was tight. Controlled. But Rhea heard what lay beneath.
Fear. "The defected families are there. Civilians. Children. And the possessed are pushing that direction."
"How many civilians?"
"Thousands." Kemi's jaw set. "And the families can't hold alone. Not against this."
Rhea understood immediately. "They need reinforcements."
"We can't split our forces," Valen said. "We're barely holding here."
"Then we don't split them." Kemi looked at Rhea. Then Kojo. Then Ilias. "We send someone who can move
fast. Organize the families. Get the civilians to safety before the swarm hits."
"You," Rhea said quietly. Not a question. Recognition.
Kemi nodded. "I know those districts. Know the families. Know the evacuation routes. I can get there.
Coordinate. Save who I can."
"Alone?" Kojo's voice was sharp.
"I'll take Jax and Mora. Small team. Fast. We slip through, rally the families, extract civilians." She met his
eyes. "Boss, you're needed here. You and Ilias—you're the heavy hitters. You hold the line. I do what I do best.
Logistics. Organization. Keeping people alive."
Rhea stepped forward. Voice low. Just between them. "Kemi. That's suicide."
"No." Kemi smiled slightly. Sad but certain. "That's my job. You taught me that. Protect people. Whatever it
costs."
"I didn't teach you to die for it."
"You taught me to *live* for it. There's a difference." She gripped Rhea's shoulder. "Boss, I've been with you
since we were kids. Watched you build this. Watched you become someone people follow. Not because
you're the scariest. Because you *care*."
She looked at the civilians huddled in the safe zone. Children. Elderly. People who'd done nothing except be
born in the wrong place.
"I can save them. But only if I go now."
Rhea stared at her. Her anchor. Her right hand. The person who'd kept her alive for years.
Finally nodded. "Come back."
"I'll try." Kemi smiled. "But if I don't—you've got this. You've got Kojo. You've got all of us. Iron Crescent doesn't
need me to survive."
"Yes it does."
"No." Kemi's voice was gentle. Firm. "It needs *you*. I'm just the one who makes sure everyone remembers
that."
She turned to Jax and Mora. Both nodded. Ready.
"Three-pronged approach through the southern tunnels," Kemi said. Professional. Tactical. "We rally the
families, organize extraction routes, hold until the civilians are clear. Then we collapse the tunnels behind us.
Buy time."
"That'll trap you," Ilias said.
"That's the idea." She met his eyes. "Can't let the possessed follow the civilians. Someone has to hold the
choke points."
"Then take more people—"
"No. Small team moves faster. And you need everyone here." She looked at Kojo. At Rhea. "Trust me. This is
what I do."
Kojo wanted to argue. Wanted to order her to stay.
But she was right.
"Go," he said. Voice rough. "Save who you can."
Kemi saluted. Not mockingly. Genuine respect.
Then she, Jax, and Mora vanished into the smoke.
Running toward a fight they might not survive.
To save people they'd never met.
Because that's what they did.
Rhea watched them go. Face unreadable.
Kojo put a hand on her shoulder. "She'll make it."
"She better." Rhea's voice was steel. "Because if she doesn't, I'm burning down whoever took her."
Around them, Church soldiers and gang members fought side-by-side. Saving civilians. Killing possessed.
Proving that people could choose cooperation over conflict.
If the cost was high enough.
If the enemy was terrifying enough.
If survival meant letting go of old hatreds for one day.
Ilias looked at his brother. His sister-in-law. The soldiers who'd burned his home now fighting to save it.
And wondered if this alliance would last past sunset.
Or if tomorrow they'd go back to killing each other.
For now, though?
For now, they fought together.
And that would have to be enough.