Sector 10 was the graveyard of the city.
It was a sprawling landscape of rusted metal and industrial waste where the skeletons of old mechs and decommissioned airships lay in heaps. The rain here was acidic and tasted of sulfur. It hissed as it hit the piles of scrap.
Ren walked through the maze of twisted steel. His armored boots crunched on the gravel. Maya was asleep on his back. Her breathing was shallow but steady.
He checked the coordinates Silas had sent. They pointed to the center of a massive hydraulic press that looked like it hadn't moved in fifty years.
"We're here," Ren whispered.
He didn't see a door. He only saw rust and oil.
Suddenly, the ground beneath the hydraulic press vibrated. A section of the concrete floor, disguised by a layer of carefully placed debris, slid open with a heavy grinding sound. It revealed a dark ramp leading down into the earth.
Ren stepped onto the ramp. The concrete slab slid shut above them, sealing out the rain and the city.
Lights flickered on. They were harsh, yellow industrial halogens.
Ren walked down the corridor. The walls here weren't made of cheap tenement brick. They were reinforced steel plates riveted together. The air smelled of recycled oxygen and gun oil.
At the end of the hall, a heavy blast door stood open.
Silas was waiting inside.
The old mechanic looked different. He wasn't wearing his usual grease-stained jumpsuit. He wore a faded tactical vest over a grey shirt. A heavy pulse-rifle rested on the table next to him.
"You look terrible," Silas grunted. He didn't smile.
"Good to see you too," Ren said. He gently lowered Maya onto a cot that had been set up in the corner.
Silas limped over. His mechanical leg whirred louder than usual. He scanned Maya with his cybernetic eye.
"Her vitals are low. The stress accelerated the Mana Blight," Silas said. He pulled a blanket over her. "She needs rest and better meds than I have. But she is safe here. The walls are lined with three inches of lead. Not even a S-Rank Diviner could find us down here."
Ren slumped against the wall. The exhaustion finally hit him. He slid down until he hit the floor.
"What is this place?" Ren asked. He looked around the room. It was filled with crates of ammo, spare mechanical parts, and a massive holographic table in the center.
"Forward Operating Base Echo," Silas said. He walked to a coffee machine and poured a cup of black sludge. "During the Guild Wars, before the Silver Wings bought the city, this was a resistance bunker. I was the engineer who built it."
Ren looked at the old man. "Resistance? You fought the Guilds?"
"I fought everyone," Silas said, taking a sip. "The Guilds. The Corporations. The Monsters. It didn't matter. We lost anyway."
Silas walked to the holographic table and pressed a button. A map of Sector 9 flickered to life. Red dots marked Viper territory. Blue dots marked Police checkpoints.
"I retired," Silas continued. "I opened a shop. I fixed toasters. I told myself I was done with war. Then a kid walked into my shop with a bag of goblin ears and a death wish."
Silas looked at Ren. His mechanical eye spun, focusing on the black armor fused to Ren's skin.
"You aren't just a Scavenger anymore, Ren. You are a biological weapon. And the Vipers? They are just the beginning. The Hunter Association has you flagged as a Vigilante. Captain Vance of the Silver Wings is likely sniffing around your apartment right now."
Ren clenched his fist. The black chitin creaked. "Let them come. I'll eat them too."
"That is exactly the problem," Silas snapped. He slammed his mug onto the table. "You are losing control. You purged the poison, but I can see the hunger in your eyes. If you turn into a monster, I will put a bullet in your brain myself. Do you understand?"
Ren looked at Maya sleeping on the cot. He remembered the taste of the rat blood. He remembered how close he had come to snapping.
"I understand," Ren said quietly. "I need to control it."
"Then you need to level up," Silas said. He tapped the map. "You have the raw power of a C-Rank, but you have the discipline of a feral dog. You need combat experience that doesn't involve protecting your sister."
Silas zoomed in on a section of the map in Sector 12. It showed a massive, overgrown ruin.
[Dungeon: The Concrete Jungle]
[Rank: C]
[Type: Open Field]
"This is an overgrown city block inside a dimensional pocket," Silas explained. "It is full of Gargoyles and Stone Golems. They are hard. Durable. Eating them might boost your defense stats even further."
"And the credits?" Ren asked.
"Gargoyle hearts sell for 5,000 credits a piece on the black market," Silas said. "We need money for food, ammo, and Maya's medicine. You go in. You hunt. You get stronger. I stay here and watch over Maya."
Ren stood up. He felt the hunger stirring again, but this time, it felt like a tool. A weapon he could aim.
"I'll go," Ren said. "But Silas? If anything happens to her..."
"Nothing will happen," Silas interrupted. He picked up the pulse rifle and racked the slide. "I held this bunker against a siege of Orcs for three days in '99. A few stray gangsters won't get past the door."
Ren nodded. He walked to the cot and brushed a strand of hair from Maya's forehead.
"I'll be back," he whispered.
He turned and walked toward the exit. He had a war to win, but first, he had to feed the beast.
****/
Location: The Ruins of Block 14, Sector 9.
The rain had stopped, but the smell of wet ash hung heavy in the air.
Police drones buzzed around the blackened skeleton of the tenement building. They scanned the debris, cataloging the bodies of the Viper thugs Ren had trampled on his way out.
Captain Vance stood in what used to be the living room of Apartment 14-B.
Vance was a tall man with slicked-back blonde hair and a pristine white uniform. On his chest, he wore the silver pin of the Silver Wings Guild. He was an A-Rank Swordsman, the official protector of this sector.
He looked down at the hole in the floor. Then he looked at the shattered wall where the railgun slug had punched through.
"Analysis," Vance said calmly.
His lieutenant, a woman holding a tablet, stepped forward. "Sir. We found traces of E-Rank Power Armor alloy fused into the wall across the street. Someone threw a 400-pound armored suit through a window."
"Strength enhancement," Vance mused. "High level. And the fire?"
"Magical origin. Traces of Scorch, a known Viper hitman. We found his remains. Or what was left of them. His skull was crushed."
Vance walked to the edge of the room. He knelt and picked up a shard of black material from the floor. It wasn't metal. It was organic. A piece of chitin that had chipped off Ren's armor during the fight.
Vance held it up to the light.
"It's not a suit," Vance whispered. "It's biological."
"A monster, sir?" the lieutenant asked. "A Dungeon Break?"
"No," Vance stood up, crushing the shard in his gloved hand. "Monsters don't rescue girls in wheelchairs. Witnesses saw a figure carrying a civilian out of the fire."
Vance walked to the window. He looked out over the slums. He saw the graffiti that was already starting to appear on the walls below. Crude paintings of a violet eye.
"This is a Vigilante," Vance said. "A Rogue Awakened. He thinks he can dispense justice in my city."
"What are your orders, Captain?"
Vance brushed a speck of ash from his white sleeve.
"Put a bounty on him. 100,000 Credits. Dead or Alive. And contact the Black Iron Mercenaries. I want to know who they sent to clean up this mess."
Vance's eyes narrowed.
"There is no room for wild dogs in my city. Find him. And put him down."