Location: Apartment 14-B, Sector 9
The rain usually soothed her. The rhythmic drumming against the thin windowpane was the only music Maya ever heard these days. But tonight, the rain sounded heavy. Angry.
Maya sat in her wheelchair by the window, a blanket pulled tight around her shoulders. Her chest ached—a dull, throbbing reminder of the Mana Blight eating away at her cells. She stared at the digital clock on the microwave.
3:14 AM.
Ren wasn't home.
He had brought home steak. He had smiled. But Maya had seen the look in his eyes when the Vipers came to the door days ago. It was the look of a cornered animal. And then he had left tonight, vanishing into the storm with a terrifying purpose.
Please come back, she prayed silently. Please don't be dead in a ditch.
The lights in the apartment flickered.
Maya frowned. Power outages were common in the slums, but this was different. The hum of the refrigerator died instantly. The streetlights outside her window winked out, plunging Block 14 into an unnatural, abyssal darkness.
Then she smelled it.
Not the smell of rain. The smell of accelerant. Chemical, sharp, and biting.
BOOM.
The explosion didn't come from her floor. It came from the lobby, fourteen stories down. The building shook, vibrating the wheels of her chair. A car alarm started blaring outside, a lonely wail in the night.
Maya gripped the armrests. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She spun her chair around, facing the front door.
She heard footsteps in the hallway.
They weren't the scuffling of rats or the stumbling of the neighborhood drunks. These were heavy, rhythmic, synchronized steps. Thud. Thud. Thud.
They stopped right outside Apartment 14-B.
"Breaching," a deep, muffled voice rumbled from the other side. It sounded synthetic, filtered through a helmet.
Maya scrambled—or tried to. She rolled her chair backward, knocking over a stack of books. "Ren?" she whispered, terrified.
The door didn't open. It disintegrated.
A massive, pneumatic sledgehammer smashed through the wood and the deadbolt as if they were wet cardboard. Splinters exploded inward, showering the hallway rug.
A figure stepped through the ruin of the doorframe. He was seven feet tall, encased in matte-black power armor that hissed with hydraulic pressure. A green viper was painted on his chest plate.
Brick.
Behind him, a smaller figure in a trench coat stepped over the debris. He snapped his fingers, and a ball of orange fire ignited in his palm, illuminating the terrifying scene.
Scorch.
"Found the package," Brick rumbled, his helmet speakers amplifying his deep bass voice. "She's in the chair. Easy transport."
Scorch giggled, the fire in his hand casting dancing shadows over his scarred face. "It smells like sickness in here. Can I burn it yet? Just a little?"
"Secure the target first," a woman's voice crackled over their comms—cold and commanding.
Maya backed her wheelchair into the kitchenette, grabbing a dull steak knife from the counter. Her hands were shaking so hard she almost dropped it.
"Stay back!" she cried, her voice thin and pathetic against the armored giants.
Brick looked at the knife. Then he turned his helmet toward Scorch.
"Cute," Brick said.
He took a step forward. The floorboards groaned under his weight.
*****
Location: Sector 9 Streets, 2 Miles Away
Ren was running.
He wasn't using [Flash Step]. Flash Step consumed mana, and he needed every drop for the fight ahead. He was relying on his new [Agility: 18] and the explosive power of his evolved legs.
He moved like a blur, leaping over parked cars, sprinting along the sides of buildings to bypass blocked intersections. His black, chitinous armor was slick with rain, shedding the water like oil.
Bzzzt.
The comms device he had stolen from Kain—which he had kept, crushing only the transmitter—crackled in his ear. It was picking up a localized tactical frequency.
"Brick, status?"
"Entry made. Target secured. She's got a knife. It's adorable."
Ren's heart stopped. The world narrowed down to a single point of white-hot rage.
Maya.
They were in his house. They were looking at his sister.
"RUN," Gluttony roared, sensing the spike in Ren's cortisol. "BURN THE FUEL. BREAK THE LIMITS."
Ren didn't care about mana conservation anymore.
[Flash Step]
ZHOOM.
He vanished, reappearing fifty feet forward.
[Flash Step]
[Flash Step]
[Flash Step]
He chained the teleports, burning through his mana reserves, turning himself into a streak of violet lightning tearing through the slums. The exhaustion clawed at him, but the image of Brick—that armored tank—touching Maya pushed him forward.
He turned the corner onto 42nd Street.
He saw Block 14.
The bottom floor was on fire. Green flames—chemical fire—were licking up the side of the building, cutting off the exits.
"No," Ren gasped.
He scanned the building. He saw his window on the 14th floor. It was dark, but he could see the silhouette of a massive figure standing in his living room, illuminated by the flicker of Scorch's fire.
Ren was on the street level. He needed to be 14 stories up. In five seconds.
He scanned the exterior. Fire escapes were rusted. The elevator was a death trap.
His eyes locked on the vertical brick face of the tenement.
"Gluttony," Ren thought. "Can I make the jump?"
[Calculated Vertical Limit: 12 meters.]
[Target Height: 45 meters.]
[Suggestion: You are an Abyssal Juggernaut. Create your own path.]
Ren didn't jump. He ran at the wall.
He activated [Bone Weaving].
Spikes erupted from his boots and his fingertips. He hit the vertical brick wall at forty miles per hour.
CRUNCH.
The bone spikes dug into the masonry. Ren didn't climb; he sprinted upward. He hauled himself up the vertical face of the building, tearing chunks of brick out with every step, defying gravity with sheer momentum and strength.
Gravity clawed at him. His muscles screamed. But he saw the window getting closer.
10th floor.
12th floor.
14th floor.
He saw Maya through the glass. She was cornered in the kitchen. The giant (Brick) was reaching for her.
Ren didn't slow down. He didn't look for a ledge.
He launched himself from the wall, tucking his body into a battering ram of black armor and bone.
*****
The giant metal hand reached out. It was the size of her head.
Maya slashed with the knife. It scraped harmlessly against the E-Rank power armor, making a pathetic skritch sound.
"Stop squirming," Brick grunted. "Boss wants you alive, not intact."
He grabbed her arm. His grip was like a vice. He lifted her out of the wheelchair effortlessly, her legs dangling uselessly.
"Ren!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. "REN!"
CRASH.
The living room window exploded.
It wasn't a rock. It wasn't a bird.
It was a nightmare wrapped in black armor.
Ren smashed through the glass, carrying the momentum of a fourteen-story sprint. He hit Brick like a missile.
The impact was seismic.
Brick, who weighed four hundred pounds in his armor, was lifted off his feet. Ren drove him backward, through the drywall of the hallway, through the bathroom door, and slammed him into the bathtub, shattering the porcelain.
Dust and debris filled the air.
Scorch spun around, fire flaring in his hands, his trench coat swirling. "Contact! Rear!"
Ren stood up from the wreckage of the bathroom. He stepped over the stunned giant.
He looked different. Taller. Stronger. Covered in black plates that looked like obsidian. But Maya knew those eyes. Those glowing, violet eyes.
Ren looked at Scorch. He looked at the fire in the man's hands.
[Threat Detected.]
[Protect the Pack.]
Ren didn't speak. He opened his mouth, and a sound came out that wasn't human. It was the roar of the dungeon, magnified by a throat built for violence.
"GET. OUT."
Ren lunged at the Pyromancer.