Back at the VALORANT Protocol Building, chaos reigned. What had once been a secure stronghold was now a battlefield. Amid the turmoil, Kellogg and Menendez moved with cold precision, strategically using Synths and Menendez's own soldiers as shields as they navigated the wreckage. Their goal was clear: reach the elevator at all costs.

Inside the control room, a VALORANT soldier monitored the security feeds, his expression grim as he relayed urgent news to Brimstone over comms.

"Sir, we've got a major breach at the elevator shaft!"

Brimstone gritted his teeth, quickly assessing the situation. This was worse than he had anticipated.

"Damnit!" Brimstone barked, his voice laced with frustration. "Neon, intercept them now! Don't let them reach that elevator!"

Neon, her determination unwavering, immediately activated her speed ability, becoming a blur of blue light as she raced toward the elevator. But before she could reach her target, dark tendrils erupted from the ground, wrapping around her and yanking her back. She hit the floor hard, the breath knocked out of her. As she struggled to get up, Alex Mercer appeared, his tendrils retracting with a slow, menacing slither. He exchanged a brief nod of acknowledgment with Kellogg, who gestured his thanks for the cover.

Brimstone, watching Neon struggle from a distance, felt a surge of anger boil inside him. "Get away from her!" he roared.

Charging forward, Brimstone unleashed a relentless barrage of bullets from his Ares heavy machine gun. But Mercer didn't flinch. With a flick of his wrist, Mercer conjured one of his protective shields, effortlessly deflecting the bullets. His gaze never left Neon, his focus cold and unrelenting.

"Get back, you freak!" Brimstone shouted, firing another burst in desperation.

For a moment, Brimstone's assault forced Mercer to take a step back. But it wasn't enough. With Brimstone momentarily repelled by the tendrils, Alex Mercer turns his attention back to Neon, looming over her who was still on the ground with a sinister intent. He taunts Neon with a chilling threat. His voice dripped with malice as his arms morphed into hammer-like fists.

"End of the line, kid," Mercer sneered, raising his massive arms for the finishing blow.

Neon, though battered, glared up at him, defiant even in the face of death. She wasn't going down without a fight.

But just as Mercer was about to strike, another set of tendrils lashed out from the shadows, knocking him off balance. Mercer stumbled, regaining his footing quickly, but when he turned to face the new threat, his eyes widened in recognition.

Standing before him was James Heller, a dark, twisted reflection of his own power.

"Heller?" Mercer spat, his voice tinged with surprise and anger. "How the hell are you still breathing? I thought I finished you."

Heller's expression was cold, his voice laced with contempt. "Well, ain't that a bitch. You see, while you were busy gloating in your delusional world, I was focused on one thing—ending your sorry ass. It made me stronger. And now I'm gonna enjoy ripping you apart again."

With a growl, Heller's hands morphed into deadly claws, sharp and glinting in the dim light.

"I created you, Heller," Mercer snarled, his arms transforming into a massive blade. "You're just a shadow of my power."

Heller smirked. "You think you made me strong? Bullshit. I made myself strong by taking you down. And this time, I'm not just stopping you. I'm erasing you again, you piece of shit."

With no more words between them, the two launched into a brutal battle. Their blows were heavy, each strike fueled by their deep-seated hatred for one another. Flesh and metal collided in a deadly dance, the sound of their combat reverberating through the corridors of the building. Tendrils, claws, and blades tore through the air as they fought, each knowing the other's capabilities and weaknesses intimately.

Meanwhile, deep within the VALORANT Protocol Building, the battle raged on. The interior of the building was vast and high-tech, glowing softly with the light of radianite containers stacked against the walls. Amid the flickering lights, Kellogg, Menendez, and their forces surged into the storage room. The urgency in the air was palpable as they searched for the critical item that Rogue Cortana had demanded.

Kellogg surveyed the room, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. The sheer complexity of the area wasn't lost on him, and he knew they needed to act fast. He signaled to Menendez, his voice calm but firm.

"We need to move quickly. The defenders won't stay distracted for long."

Menendez nodded, barking orders to his men. They spread out, combing through the room with precision, their goal clear: retrieve the radianite at all costs. The sound of footsteps and the hum of technology filled the space, a stark contrast to the chaos raging just outside.

But their intrusion hadn't gone unnoticed. From the shadows, defenders of the building began to mobilize, preparing for a fight that would decide the fate of the multiverse.

Reyna and Omen stood at the forefront, a squad of VALORANT officers assembled behind them, ready for the imminent confrontation. Reyna's commanding posture and authoritative tone reflected her heritage, her Latina roots shining through as the tension escalated. The soundtrack built in intensity, echoing the gravity of the moment.

Kellogg's voice broke the silence, laced with arrogance. "Well, well, well. Looks like we've got ourselves a Mexican standoff." He smirked dismissively, sharing a glance with Raul Menendez.

Reyna's eyes narrowed, her voice sharp with warning. "This is your final chance. Leave now, or face severe consequences."

Kellogg chuckled, clearly unfazed by her threat. He looked back at his men with a grin. "Diplomacy is overrated. Let's get what we came for, boys."

Without hesitation, Kellogg's group opened fire, triggering an intense response from the VALORANT officers. Gunfire erupted, and the room descended into chaos. Omen's shadowy form flickered in and out of sight as he utilized his Shrouded Step, teleporting to key positions, creating confusion among the attackers. Reyna, her eyes glowing a fierce red as she tapped into her Empress form, charged forward, prepared to meet the onslaught head-on.

"Stay sharp," Omen's calm voice resonated over the comms amidst the chaos. "I'm covering your six."

Reyna nodded, her focus unshaken. "Thanks, Omen. They picked the wrong fight."

The battle was a whirlwind of movement and sound. Omen's shadows danced across the battlefield, sowing confusion with his Paranoia, disorienting Kellogg's men as they struggled to locate him. Reyna, a blur of lethal precision, cut through the enemy ranks with her deadly weapons and abilities, her form flickering in and out of view as she used Dismiss to avoid attacks.

Suddenly, Reyna rounded a corner and came face to face with Raul Menendez. His eyes burned with intensity as he lunged at her with a combat knife. She dodged, but not quickly enough—his blade sliced across her arm, drawing blood. The force of his lunge knocked her weapon from her hand, sending it skittering across the floor.

The music shifted to a darker, more personal tone, underscoring the gravity of the encounter.

Reyna sneered, holding her ground despite the pain. "Who do you think you are, storming into our place like this?"

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Menendez's voice was cold, his expression unreadable. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Raul Menendez. You're in my way, and you'll regret stopping me."

Despite the tension between them, there was an unspoken connection—a clash not just of personalities, but of cultures and histories. Reyna's posture shifted, readying herself for the fight. "You've got guts, stepping into my world. But here, we fight with heart. Something you've clearly forgotten."

Menendez's eyes narrowed, his tone dripping with disdain. "Heart? I have enough heart to do what must be done. Can you say the same?"

They circled each other like predators, their movements a deadly dance of strength versus agility. Menendez moved with the precision of guerrilla warfare, his strikes methodical and powerful. Reyna countered with swift, elusive maneuvers, her VALORANT training evident in every step.

"You're strong," Reyna said through gritted teeth, dodging another strike. "But here, strength isn't everything."

Menendez smirked. "In this game, it's kill or be killed. And I always choose the former."

The fight intensified, their blows coming faster and harder as they both vied for control. Omen, shrouded in shadows, moved across the battlefield, providing critical support without drawing attention away from the fierce duel. His Dark Cover created brief moments of disarray among Kellogg's forces, allowing Reyna to reposition and strike with precision.

"Stay alert," Omen's voice came through the comms again, calm but focused. "I'm keeping them off balance."

Reyna and Menendez continued their relentless duel, each determined to overpower the other. Meanwhile, Omen remained strategic, his figure flickering in and out of sight as he used Shrouded Step to disorient Menendez's men. The battle was fierce, but Omen's presence turned the tide, allowing the VALORANT officers to hold the line against the attackers.

As Omen navigated through the shadows, his attention sharpened. He realized they were being flanked. "They're flanking us!" he called out over the comms, his voice betraying no panic.

With no time to spare, Omen activated Shrouded Step, vanishing into the shadows just as gunfire erupted. He reappeared behind a column, hidden from view. The music dipped into a suspenseful lull, heightening the tension as Omen assessed the new threat.

Menendez's men, speaking in rapid Spanish, spread out, searching for him. Their voices were tense, reflecting their desperation to eliminate the unseen threat.

"Check that corner," one of them ordered in Spanish. "He has to be here."

"Keep your eyes open," another hissed. "He's tricky."

From his hidden position, Omen lined up his shots with precision. With a flick of his wrist, he cast Shadow's Embrace, enveloping his enemies in darkness. The confusion was immediate, their movements stilted and uncertain. Omen took his shot, dropping several of Menendez's men with well-placed shots from his Guardian.

The remaining men scattered, their formation broken. Omen moved swiftly, vanishing into the shadows once again. The music echoed the cat-and-mouse game unfolding between Omen and his pursuers, blending suspenseful strings with pulsing beats.

For a moment, the battlefield was still. Omen took a breath, momentarily relieved after skillfully dispatching several of Menendez's men. But the reprieve was short-lived. The sharp crack of gunfire shattered the brief calm as Kellogg and his Synth forces opened fire, their rounds zipping perilously close to Omen's concealed position.

With reflexes honed by countless battles, Omen reacted instantly. He vanished once again, teleporting to another hidden spot within the shadowy corners of the storage facility. The fight was far from over, and the shadows were his to command.

The storage facility echoed with the sounds of battle. Kellogg's voice, menacing and relentless, reverberated through the comms, his tone dripping with cold mockery.

"You can run all you like, but it's futile. Give it up, and maybe I'll make it quick."

Hidden behind a large piece of machinery, Omen whispered calmly into his comms, his voice low but composed.

"I've been spotted. Reinforcements needed. I'm moving to cover."

With fluid, practiced movements, Omen slipped into the shadows, becoming a constant, shifting force in the chaos of the battle. His steps were soundless, his presence nearly impossible to detect.

Meanwhile, Kellogg continued his hunt, his voice as cold as steel.

"I've dealt with tougher than you. You're only delaying the inevitable."

From the shadows, Omen responded, his words filled with quiet defiance.

"Perhaps I am. But every moment you waste here, my team grows closer to their goal."

Kellogg's laughter echoed ominously through the facility.

"Optimistic to the end, aren't you? Let's see how long that resolve holds."

Omen's glowing eyes flickered in the darkness, his expression showing a calculated concern. Outside his temporary refuge, Kellogg moved methodically, efficiently, his presence an ever-growing threat as he closed in on Omen's position.

Realizing his options were dwindling, Omen whispered to himself, his voice a mix of resolve and resignation.

"Time to play this smart."

The tension tightened as Kellogg's steps grew closer. The music's tempo rose, matching the quickening pulse of the moment. Omen, sensing the time was right, activated his ultimate ability, From the Shadows, vanishing from sight and reappearing elsewhere in the building, evading Kellogg's grasp.

Elsewhere, the intense melee between Reyna and Menendez reached its peak. Their battle was fierce, each strike calculated, each movement honed to perfection. But just as their fight reached its crescendo, the sudden eruption of gunfire from Menendez's men shattered the rhythm.

Bullets whizzed past Reyna, barely missing her, but enough to disrupt her momentum. Menendez, fury twisting his features, whirled on his troops.

"Hold your fire! ¡Idiotas! She's mine to kill!"*

The gunfire ceased immediately, and his men stepped back, chastened and confused. Reyna seized the moment of chaos, dashing toward her fallen Vandal. She scooped it up and quickly spun, unleashing a torrent of bullets at Menendez and his disoriented men.

Caught off guard, Menendez dove for cover, his eyes blazing with rage as Reyna methodically cut down his men, one after another. But as her focus narrowed on her targets, she momentarily forgot about Menendez himself.

In one swift motion, Menendez slipped behind her, his movement deadly and precise. He lunged, delivering a crushing punch to Reyna's face. Reyna stumbled, collapsing to the ground.

As she struggled to collect herself, Menendez picked up her Vandal, leveling it at her with a sinister grin.

"Impressive, but not good enough. Time for you to suffer, as I have suffered."

Though her cheek throbbed from the blow, Reyna's eyes burned with defiance. She glanced at the fallen bodies of Menendez's men around her, then whispered fiercely to herself, her resolve hardening.

"You'll need more than that to finish me. Try hitting a shadow, Raul."

In a surge of energy, Reyna activated her Dismiss ability. Her form shimmered and began to fade from view, her voice echoing hauntingly as she vanished from sight.

Menendez spun around wildly, frustration clear on his face as he tried to pinpoint her location. His snarls of anger echoed in the tense silence as the hunt resumed, the tension thickening once more.

Meanwhile, James Heller and Alex Mercer crashed through the levels of the building, the impact of their fight sending debris flying through the air. They landed in the middle of the cafeteria, surrounded by frightened civilians.

Amid the destruction, Heller rose from the wreckage, glaring at Mercer. The background music swelled, matching the growing tension between the two.

"Seems like this version of you isn't any stronger than the others," Heller taunted, pointing his blade toward Mercer.

Mercer smirked. "I'm evolving, Heller. You can taunt all you want, but I'm seeing the bigger picture, the one you're too blind to understand. We're beyond humanity now; we're something greater."

Heller scoffed. "Greater? My ass."

Mercer's eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "Look around you. These people? They're sheep. We're the shepherds. Why pollute them when you can save them?"

Heller's fury flared. "Enough of your shit! I'm ending this now, Mercer!"

Mercer chuckled darkly. "Heller, we're playing on a multiversal scale. I've been the apex predator in countless realities. This is just natural selection in action."

Heller clenched his fists, his voice shaking with anger. "Natural? There's nothing natural about you. You're a monster, Mercer. And I'm not letting you warp reality with your delusions."

Mercer smiled faintly, his gaze locking with Heller's. "Still defiant to the end. You're just like your other version. Despite everything, you fail to see the bigger picture. Every move I make is calculated, Heller. What about you? Still pretending to be the hero?"

Their eyes met, each one assessing the other, ready for the next move. But as Mercer glanced around the cafeteria, he spotted the terrified civilians huddling nearby. His smirk grew darker.

"In countless realities, I've beaten you, destroyed you without even breaking a sweat. I'm surprised you've survived this long."

With a sudden strike, Mercer lashed out with his Whipfist, smashing through the cafeteria wall. The impact sent debris crashing down, trapping several civilians under the rubble.

Heller reacted instinctively to the chaos, torn between pursuing Mercer and helping the civilians.

"Make the choice, Heller," Mercer taunted as he turned to leave. "Chase me, or play the hero and save them. Either way, you lose. You've always been too sentimental, too weak."

Mercer disappeared into the chaos, leaving Heller standing in the wreckage, rage boiling inside him. For a moment, Heller considered chasing Mercer, ending it once and for all. But then he heard it—the cries of the trapped civilians, their voices desperate, pleading for help.

Their cries pierced through his anger, pulling him back to the present. Heller stopped, torn between his vengeance and the people in need.

He grimaced, his frustration bubbling to the surface. He had given up on being a hero long ago, after he lost his family. What was the point of saving the innocent now? But their cries... they struck a chord deep within him that he couldn't ignore.

"Fuck this."

The words slipped out, filled with bitterness. He turned his back on Mercer's retreating figure, heading toward the pile of debris instead. His movements were heavy, reluctant, but resolute.

"Stop squirming! I'll get you out! Just hold on!"

Despite everything, despite the darkness within him, James Heller made the choice to save them