Although Ubel regained his lost arm, he could still feel the numbness setting in, the shock starting to take over, and his mind was now sharp. The surviving patrons and staff of the cantina were now rummaging the wreckage for more survivors and some were looting the dead attackers. Few also were making sure that these mercenaries that attacked them stayed dead as they shot each body many times. Ubel’s attention however was on something else. He discreetly watches over the twins to know how they relate to this shoot-out.
As the twins surveyed the carnage, they came across a gruesome sight—a woman who got dismembered earlier by a high-caliber shrapnel that first tore off his entire arm. Ubel assumed that she was probably one of their companions, now lying lifeless amid the wreckage. The impact was more damaging on her body than Ubel’s, her upper body was destroyed. The short-haired twin knelt beside her.
“She’s dead. I don’t think she had any implants that would let her live through this.”
Ubel however, sensed a bit of sarcasm from her statement, a bizarre reaction from the companion of the dead woman. He started to think that maybe… the corpse was not their colleague or ally.
"We need to go," her sister said softly, pulling her back. Partially confirming Ubel’s suspicion that the two didn’t care about the dead woman at all. "There’s nothing we can do about her now."
“Yeah, this would attract a lot of attention. I say we split and meet at BH3.”
“Agreed.” The two then quickly disappeared from the crowd of survivors that were now leaving the premises, helping their wounded and the dead. All of them were taking into consideration another attack on the ruined cantina and none of them wanted to be present during that.
And now that he was alone in the ruins, Ubel discreetly moved from body to body, scanning the attackers' neural implants. From the results, he confirmed that they were just hired guns, equipped with standard to high-grade implants and gear, nothing that stood out.
Then in one of the dead mercs’ memory banks, Ubel found what he was looking for—a data trace that revealed the source of the contract. Although the identity of their employer was not mentioned, this confirmed that someone had hired these mercenaries specifically to take the twins out. His earlier assumptions had been right: he was not the real target.
But his guts were telling him something else, especially when he found that none of the mercenaries were armed with high-caliber rifles that could have shot him.
His heart raced as he scanned deeper, pulling up the fragmented data left in the mercs’ neural systems. He found encrypted communication logs, and payments routed through various BLACNET channels, then it went blank.
As he was investigating and rummaging through the digital data that he had salvaged from the dead mercenaries, he received a noticeably blinking message. Curious about what it was, he opened it. The identity of the sender was hidden through BLACNET encryption and its content had only one word:
BOOM!
Before Ubel could fully process what the message meant, a deafening crack echoed through the cantina. Another sniper shot. He felt the impact before he even heard the sound. This time, the bullet ripped through his shoulder—the same side where he had lost his arm earlier that had just regenerated. Thus making him lose the same arm.
“What the fuck, man! This is the third time!” he exclaimed his frustrations and immediately took cover to dodge more high-caliber bullets.
Through gritted teeth, Ubel’s vision flickered. His scanners frantically analyzed the bullet fragments embedded in his flesh, confirming his worst fear. It was the same caliber, which meant that the one who attacked him was probably of different allegiance or employment.
But then, there was another revelation. He sensed a chilling cold in the area where he got shot. And also noticed that the bullet had some sort of freezing effect. He could have just ignored it if it was a normal bullet however, this bullet took out one of the greatest assets in his body.
Regeneration.
The sniper was targeting his regenerative abilities directly, methodically shutting him down bit by bit. He could almost hear her thoughts:
If I can’t kill him, I’ll stop him from healing.
“Very clever.” He grinned. The freezing round was a tool used by xeno hunters, meant for incapacitating alien creatures with extreme resilience or regenerative capabilities. It wasn’t meant for humans—as humans would freeze to death from the inside out if hit with one of these. But the sniper knew Ubel wasn’t just any human. And this hunter used the boy’s extreme rate of regeneration against him.
Ubel barely managed to take cover behind an overturned table, panting as the cold slowly spread through his limbs. He could feel the freezing round working its way up his arm, numbing the flesh and slowing then finally stopping his regenerative abilities. The icy sting was unnatural, piercing deeper than any pain he had felt before.
Smoke grenades hissed as they filled the room with a thick fog of grey. Thankfully, even through the smoke, his augmented senses detected the whir of the gears and metals moving with lethal precision. Then he saw it—dozens of droids emerging from the haze, its visual sensors locking onto his position.
“This is going to be fun.” He grinned as he realized that his situation had just become worse.
The red dot blinked, and before he could react, they fired a burst of energy rounds. He dived to the side, the shots narrowly missing, but as he hit the ground, his frozen arm slammed against the cold floor, sending a wave of sharp pain through his body.
“…I should have included the trait of feeling no pain in my character.” He winced from pain. Although he could regenerate in seconds, he still felt the pain of losing such a limb and bleeding. The only advantageous change in this new attack was that, due to the freezing effect of the bullet, it stopped the bleeding on his arm. Although he doesn’t know if he should take that as a fortunate thing in this situation.
Combat droids marched forward with eerie mechanical movement and agility, their glowing optics cutting through the dust and smoke-like lines of bright lights. Ubel tried to tap into their systems, his neuromancy flaring in desperation as he attempted to hack into their circuitry. But the moment he reached out, he was met with silence. These droids were closed-loop, designed specifically to resist external interference. He couldn’t disable them, couldn’t even slow them down. These weren’t the typical, run-of-the-mill combat droids you’d see guarding warehouses or patrolling streets—they were high-grade, military-spec machines, built for one purpose: to kill. And worse, obviously brought against his neuromancy.
But he had to do something. He once again unsheathes his pistol and squeezes the trigger, sending a volley of shots toward the advancing droids. Sparks flew as the bullets glanced off their sleek exteriors, doing little more than leaving superficial scratches. He barely had time to register the sound of the sniper’s rifle echoing through the chaos.
The impact was different this time as it struck what should have been his last hope in fighting back. His last moving arm was ripped apart from his shoulder, leaving him with no arms left. The stump stiffened almost immediately as the freezing round spread its icy tendrils through his torn muscles.
Ubel stared in disbelief as frost began creeping up his skin, freezing the tissue and locking it in place. With both arms lost and the frost already reached his shoulders and chest, Ubel knew he had only a few more moments before he would be completely immobilized. Even moving to a new cover would be dangerous—he could suffocate in breathing the freezing air. Other patrons in the establishment had already left for safety earlier. He was now alone and was truly cornered.
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But Ubel wasn’t without a few tricks of his own.
A small, almost imperceptible signal left his mind, sent directly to the hidden droids he had stationed discreetly around the area for this very purpose. With a silent command, his droids sprang to life. From the shadows and wreckage of the cantina, they emerged, launching themselves at the enemy droids. The clash of metal on metal echoed through the chaos, as Ubel’s droids tackled the elite enemy droids, targeting weak points in their joints and circuits. Sparks flew as they engaged in close-quarters combat, tearing at the enemy droids with surprising ferocity. One of Ubel’s droids grabbed an attacker by the neck, twisting with mechanical strength until the head snapped off with a crunch of wires and hydraulics.
As his droids tore through the enemy ranks, Ubel’s neural link fed him real-time combat data. His droids were outnumbered, but their stealth and precision were keeping them ahead in the fight.
But even as his droids fought back, Ubel could feel the freezing effect spreading further into his body. His vision began to blur as the temperature around him dropped. Then as he mentally commanded several of the droids to carry him to safety, several shots accurately took all of them down. The sniper hadn’t just been trying to kill him; she had been trying to corner him, to make sure he couldn’t escape her killzone.
Another round hit the floor near him, spreading icy mist in all directions near his cover. The temperature dropped even further, and Ubel knew he had to act fast before the sniper sealed his fate. The sniper was also trying to freeze the entire establishment, slowly turning it into a death zone. Each shot that hit, whether it struck him or not, spread frost across the ground, chilling the air to dangerous levels.
More enemy droids flooded into the cantina in increasing numbers that replaced their losses. Ubel knew he couldn’t hold them off forever, even with his droids in play. He needed to find a way out.
Combat droids clashed on both sides, turning the once-bustling hub into a chaotic battlefield of shrapnel, debris, and sparks. Ubel crawled again to another cover, this time behind a thick slab of concrete that got uprooted due to an explosion earlier. He was still feeling the heavy pulse of his regeneration trying to counteract the freezing effect, but the chill was spreading faster than his body could heal. The rot and necrosis were beginning to spread. Traja, the sniper, had adapted quickly, using precision shots and freezing rounds to disable not only Ubel but his combat droids as well.
One by one, his droids crumbled under the onslaught, the energy blasts from the enemy's side overwhelming his forces. His droids were high-end, but the sheer number of enemy droids, combined with Traja’s strategic shots, was too much. He watched helplessly as another of his droids was disabled, its circuits fried by freezing rounds.
He had one last card to play, something he hoped he wouldn’t need to resort to. As it would be very, very painful for him to use this. And he only tried to use it once after he took over Demonic Monkeys and tested it on the confines of Blitzkrieg. But, even as he was feeling under pressure with frustrations, his enjoyment over this situation still dominated his emotions and he let out a wide grin.
Suddenly, blasts of plasma and energy rounds began to rain down on the enemy droids from above, striking with precision and in rapid succession. The hostile droids staggered under the assault, one by one dropping to the ground with smoking holes in their armor. Ubel squinted through the haze of smoke and frost, trying to make sense of what was happening. He glanced up, bewildered, as he saw two familiar figures emerge from the shadows on the rooftops above, providing long-range fire.
The very same people whom he didn’t expect to be there.
Again.
"Looks like you still suck at close-quarter combat, Captain." Creed's voice popped out in the corner of his sight, the familiar face was unmistakable, tinged with that trademark mix of amusement as he unleashed another volley of fire from his energy rifle. “Need a hand?”
A second voice joined, this one sharper and more sarcastic.
“Some things never change. I’m surprised you’re still kicking.” Bastille, Godright’s first officer, chimed in, laughter evident in his tone. Their holos flickered, and the grinning faces of Creed and Bastille appeared on the screen. Confirming that they were the ones, perched on a rooftop, laying down suppressive fire with their long-range rifles.
Ubel's former crew had witnessed his earlier failures in boarding assaults. His terrible aim and lack of spatial awareness had been a source of constant ridicule.
“What the hell are you two doing here?” Ubel, still frozen in place from the sniper rounds, could barely manage a response. "Not that I'm complaining."
But then Traja’s sniper rounds came crashing down again, forcing Ubel to duck as more debris rained from the broken ceiling.
"We thought we’d lend a hand before you turned into an icicle." Creed teased, his grin widening. "And I thought you were always better with your mind than a gun. Guess I was wrong."
Ubel glanced at the battlefield, noticing the sniper rounds still tearing through the air, now focusing on Creed and Bastille. Creed fired off another burst of energy rounds, but the sniper responded with deadly accuracy. A freezing round struck one of the walls near Creed, sending shards of ice splintering in all directions. They were pinned down but holding their position, providing cover fire for Ubel.
“We’ve sent a team to find the sniper’s position.” Bastille barked over the Holo as he ducked for cover. “Speaking of which, where are they?”
"Status report, team." Creed's voice came through the comms again, this time more serious.
“She’s in the buildings at Quarter 43-B4-L1, probably 800 meters to 1 km away from here!” Ubel said in his Holo. This was what he had calculated from the direction of the bullets that the sniper had fired as well as the possible location where the shooter had made his or her vantage point over the cantina. Creed nodded and passed on this information to his scouts who were operating a few drones to confirm the presence of the shooter in this location.
As Ubel was still trying to process the situation, he heard the heavy thudding of boots behind him. Before he could react, two armored figures in full combat suits—the distinctive designs of the Demonic Monkeys—charged in, breaking through the wall. One of the armored figures rushed toward Ubel, scooping him up under its arm with surprising ease. He recognized the suits immediately, reinforced for close-quarters combat in shipboard assaults. There was no mistaking who they were.
"You're a real idiot, you know that?" the voice of the one who carried him was filled with disdain, but there was a hint of concern behind the harshness.
The two armored suits sprinted through the battlefield with incredible speed, dodging incoming fire and taking the boy to relative safety. They slid into cover behind another collapsed wall, and Ubel finally got a good look at his rescuer. He didn’t need to see the face to recognize the voice that crackled through the suit's speaker.
Once they reached a secure position behind a still-solid building, the armored figure dropped Ubel none-too-gently. He hit the ground with a thud, wincing as he landed. The second armored figure deactivated their helmet, revealing Ursa’s cold, piercing eyes as she glared down at him.
"You’re lucky we were nearby, retard," Ursa growled, her voice dripping with irritation. "What the hell were you thinking, getting caught in a kill zone like this?"
Eris, followed suit, removing her helmet and shaking her long orange hair in mock disbelief.
"I told you." She said with a smirk, "Your godlike neuromancy isn’t invincible. This is exactly what I warned you about."
Ubel wanted to retort, but he was too exhausted to argue. He knew they were right—he had overestimated himself again, and now he was paying the price.
Ursa knelt beside him, inspecting the damage from the freezing rounds with a frown.
"Nice to see you too. And I didn’t fall into a trap. It’s a bit more complicated than that." Ubel groaned as they prodded at his injured arm.
"Oh really?" Ursa snorted.
"Looks like Elpano’s crew wasn’t enough for you. You just had to go and get yourself into another mess." Eris chimed in with a mocking grin. "And what do you know, they used the same tactic. Almost like you never learn."
“Well, because it’s fun.” Ubel shrugged. Before Ursa could snap back, Creed’s voice broke through on their comms again.
"Ursa, Eris—We just confirmed the location of the sniper thanks to Ubel. I’m passing over the coordinates. Move in and neutralize, but I will leave the decision of whether to execute or capture. But watch yourselves—this sniper is no amateur. I will be sending others to reinforce you, but it will take them some time, so Mei and Marus will be backing you up."
The two exchanged a glance, then nodded in unison. They were already shifting into combat mode, their expressions hardening.
"On it," Ursa responded, her voice tight with focus.
"You stay here," Eris ordered, pointing at Ubel. "Tepra, Mucker, and Zinc will patch you up. Try not to die before we get back. You owe us another dinner and drinks"
With that, the two suited up their helmets and activated their suits’ thrusters, jumping from rooftop to rooftop with agile grace, disappearing into the smoky urban buildings. They moved with incredible speed and precision as they leaped from rooftop to rooftop, avoiding the sniper’s line of sight.
Ursa and Eris moved like predators through the cityscape, their movements silent and lethal. They advance, relying on Creed’s constant updates to adjust their approach.
"There," Ursa whispered through the comms. "Northeast building."
Eris responded with a curt nod, her eyes scanning the horizon as they advanced. They had the element of surprise now, and the sniper wouldn’t see them coming.
As they advanced at great speed towards the sniper’s location, Ursa whispered to Eris.
"What do you think? Kill or capture?"
"Depends on how cooperative she is. Let’s see how she likes being the one hunted for a change." Eris smirked beneath her helmet.