Grief 7.8b

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

Analyze. Analyze.

> Quantum Lvl 40

> Bash Brother

> HP: 750/750

> Trait: Vector-Field Cohesion

>

> 6'2" and decked out in tactical cape wear, this merc looks every bit the part of the soldier he used to be. His suit's got more padding than an overpriced sofa, and those utility pockets? Probably just for show. Triggered with his brother during a workplace disaster, he specializes in popping up force fields that are ironclad up close but might as well be made of mist if he's too far away. Sharing power with his brother Woody means he's only as strong as Woody's last sunbath.

> Woody Lvl 41

> Bash Brother

> HP: 250/250

> Trait: Photoluminary Detonation Matrix

>

> Woody looks like he's stepped out of a beach volleyball game, sporting white capris and a blue sport coat that screams "casual Friday" but he's quick on his feet and can make light work of his foes, literally. He tosses around energy blasts that have a nasty habit of exploding when you least expect it. While he can't zap living things directly, he can also blow up anything around you while darting around nearly as fast as his blasts.

Hardkour's fists clenched instinctively as he stepped forward, that familiar heat building beneath his skin like a kettle about to boil. The parking lot had become an arena, abandoned cars casting long shadows under flickering street lights, the air thick with concrete dust and the acrid smell of scorched asphalt. His enhanced senses picked up every detail – the subtle shift of Quantum's weight, the low hum of energy gathering around Woody's hands.

Quantum stood like a fortress in blue and white, radiating the kind of controlled power that spoke of years of training. His brother was his opposite in every way – Woody practically bounced on his heels, yellow energy dancing between his fingers like a cat's cradle made of lightning. The casual display made Hardkour's jaw clench tighter, his patience wearing thinner with each passing second.

He didn't give them time to monologue. Drawing in a sharp breath that tasted of ozone and burned rubber, Hardkour exploded forward. His boots hit the pavement in rapid succession as he closed the distance, body automatically settling into the foundational stance his power had drilled into muscle memory. Keep it tight, keep it simple – just like training. He zeroed in on Woody first, hands up in a boxer's guard, looking for that perfect opening.

Woody's grin only widened as Hardkour approached, his fingers twirling an orb of crackling energy with casual disregard. "C'mon, kid, you gotta try harder than that!" The man's laughter grated against Hardkour's ears as he suddenly snapped his wrist forward, launching the energy sphere with deadly precision.

The orb cut through the air like a miniature sun, trailing golden light that cast strange shadows across the lot. Hardkour's instincts screamed as he pivoted hard, concrete crumbling under his heel. He felt the heat of the blast pass his shoulder close enough to singe, the air crackling with displaced energy. The explosion behind him sent a pressure wave that nearly knocked him off balance, but he recovered in a fluid motion, already tracking Woody's movements.

- 35

The scruffy merc was already forming another orb, tossing it between his hands with the casual air of a street performer. Each pass left afterimages in the air, like a deadly light show. Hardkour's muscles coiled as he analyzed the pattern, waiting for the perfect moment. It reminded him of Sundancer's powers, only smaller and faster. He slipped into a modified fighting stance, power humming through his limbs as he burst forward again.

This time, his fist found its mark. Knuckles drove into Woody's solar plexus with a satisfying impact that reverberated up Hardkour's arm. The blow knocked the energy wielder back several steps, his latest orb dissolving into sparks as his concentration shattered.

But instead of doubling over in pain, Woody actually laughed – a genuine belly laugh that made Hardkour's blood pressure spike. The merc clutched his stomach, still chuckling like they were sharing some private joke. "Got some sting, don't ya?"

A shimmering wall of azure energy materialized between Hardkour and his target, the barrier springing up faster than thought. His momentum carried him straight into it, the impact sending vibrations through his bones as electricity sparked involuntarily from his hands, dancing across the translucent surface like lightning on glass. The forcefield hummed with contained power, giving off a faint ozone smell that mixed with the lingering scent of scorched asphalt.

-88

"Speed doesn't count for much if you can't get through," Quantum remarked, his tone carrying all the enthusiasm of a DMV clerk checking licenses. The man's crossed arms and rigid posture radiated smugness even through the tactical suit. The streetlights caught the edges of his armor, turning him into a living sculpture of blue and white whose image was stained on the bright sapphire plane in front of him.

Rage surged through Hardkour's veins, hot and electric. Power crackled along his arms as he chambered a punch, letting the energy build until his fist glowed with white-hot potential. The air around him ionized, making his hair stand on end beneath his mask. The blow crashed against the barrier with a thunderclap of discharged power, sending concentric ripples of force across its surface like waves in a pool.

For just a moment, Quantum's perfect posture faltered. A slight tremor in the barrier, barely perceptible but *there* – like spiderweb cracks in bulletproof glass.

Hardkour pressed his advantage, driving another electrically-charged strike into the same spot.

The impact jarred up his arm, but he caught Quantum's minute flinch, saw the way the man's shoulders tensed with effort. Each hit sent cascading waves of energy through the forcefield, creating interference patterns that lit up the parking lot like a twisted light show. The barrier held, but it was straining, like a dam developing hairline cracks under mounting pressure.

Movement flashed in his peripheral vision – a black-clad figure streaking across the lot with frightening speed. Sparky, still running hot from his earlier fights, launched himself at Quantum's shield with the kind of reckless abandon that made Hardkour's heart skip. His friend's golden eyes gleamed in the darkness, reflecting the electric discharge still dancing across the barrier's surface.

"Apex, get back!" The warning tore from his throat, but it was already too late. The words hadn't even finished echoing off the surrounding buildings before everything went sideways.

The barrier vanished like it had never existed.

Quantum's hand shot out, snagging Sparky's collar mid-leap with practiced ease. The merc pivoted, using Sparky's own momentum to send him flying. The sound of his friend hitting the pavement and skidding across broken concrete sent fresh anger coursing through Hardkour's system. Each scrape and bounce felt like sandpaper on his nerves.

Quantum barely spared a glance at Sparky's prone form before turning back, radiating disdain through his mask. The streetlight caught the edge of his visor, turning it into a mirror that reflected Hardkour's own crackling energy back at him. "You kids really don't get it, do you?"

Instead of answering, Hardkour reached deep, pulling electricity through his body until it hummed in his bones. The power manifested as crackling coronas around his fists, casting sharp shadows across the lot. His hands tingled with contained energy, like holding onto live wires. The air around him became charged, making nearby pieces of debris shift and crackle with static electricity.

He exploded forward, closing distance in a heartbeat. When Quantum raised another barrier, Hardkour was ready. He twisted around the edge of the forcefield, keeping his movements economical, precise. Months of combat and enhanced muscle memory guided each step as he slipped past the merc's defenses. His electrically-charged fist drove straight into Quantum's chest plate with a satisfying crack of discharged power, the impact sending arcs of electricity crawling across the other merc's armor.

The mercenary grunted but didn't fold.

Hardkour followed through with two more strikes, each impact releasing a burst of electrical energy that lit up the night like camera flashes.

But something was wrong.

Instead of dropping, Quantum's stance widened, grew more stable. Each hit seemed to feed into him somehow, and Hardkour felt his own power being drawn out, pulled away even as his blows connected. The electricity that should have been shocking his opponent was being absorbed, redirected, transformed. What the fuck?

"You done yet?" Quantum's voice carried that special kind of condescension unique to adults who thought they knew better. The smirk was audible even through his mask, and it made Hardkour's blood sing with rage. Streetlight glinted off his pristine armor, unmarred despite the intensity of their exchange.

A flash of movement was his only warning before Woody materialized on his flank, moving with the casual grace of a veteran showman. The energy orb left his fingers like a fastball, its golden trail cutting through the darkness like a comet. Hardkour twisted away, but the explosion caught him anyway, its concussive force sending him staggering across broken concrete. The world tilted sideways for a moment, his enhanced senses overwhelmed by the combination of searing light and thunderous sound. The taste of copper filled his mouth as his teeth clicked together from the impact.

-177

"Man, you're giving us a workout, kid," Woody called out, adjusting his visor with an almost theatrical flourish. His tone carried genuine appreciation, like a coach impressed by a rookie's first game. Energy danced between his fingers as he spoke, casting his face in an ever-shifting pattern of light and shadow. "Usually, we don't play this nice with villains."

The word 'villains' hit harder than any of their attacks.

Quantum's forcefield pulsed with renewed strength as Woody circled, launching orbs in a precise pattern that forced Hardkour to constantly adjust his position. The blasts weren't random – they were herding him, controlling the battlefield with practiced efficiency. Every dodge brought him closer to Quantum's reach, every sidestep put him in Woody's line of fire. The air crackled with contained energy, making Hardkour's skin tingle even through his costume.

Gritting his teeth hard enough to make his jaw ache, Hardkour charged in. He weaved through Woody's barrage, each near-miss raising the hair on his arms and leaving afterimages burned in his vision. Dropping low, he slid under Quantum's guard, driving his fist into the mercenary's side with enough force to crack concrete. The impact reverberated up his arm, but Quantum merely shifted his weight, absorbing the blow like it was nothing more than a love tap. The merc's forcefield flickered briefly, absorbing and redirecting the energy in a display that lit up the entire parking lot.

Before Hardkour could press his advantage, Woody was there, his kick coming in high and fast. The blow caught Hardkour's shoulder, not even hurting him but knocking him off balance just enough for Quantum to counter. The merc's armored fist descended like a hammer, and Hardkour barely got his guard up in time. The block sent shockwaves through his arms, forcing him back several steps as his boots scraped against broken asphalt, leaving gouges in the concrete.

-84

"Still holding up?" Woody's taunt came with another orb, this one detonating behind Hardkour with devastating precision. The pressure wave felt like getting hit by a car, driving the air from his lungs as he fought to maintain his footing. Heat washed over him in a wave, singeing the edges of his costume.

"Better than you think," Hardkour gritted out, voice barely above a growl.

The brothers circled him, their movements precise, almost choreographed. Woody darted through the darkness, golden energy trailing from his hands like comet tails, while Quantum's forcefields shimmered in geometric patterns that caught and reflected the streetlights. The air itself seemed to pulse with contained power, making Hardkour's teeth vibrate with each resonant blast.

Another energy orb screamed through the air, forcing Hardkour to duck and roll. The movement brought him straight into Quantum's range, the mercenary's armored fist cutting through the space where Hardkour's head had been a split second before. The rush of displaced air ruffled his hair through the mask, carrying the sharp ozone smell of Woody's energy attacks.

Electricity sparked weakly around Hardkour's knuckles as he readied himself for another exchange.

Woody's next orb came in hot, larger than before, crackling with unstable energy that cast wild shadows across the lot. Hardkour's body moved on instinct, twisting away from the blast radius. The detonation sent a wave of superheated air washing over him, kicking up clouds of concrete dust. He pushed through it, channeling the momentum into a sharp jab at Quantum's exposed side. His fist connected with satisfying force, the young vigilante holding back the electricity under his skin and grinning widely as the man let out an actual grunt of pain.

"Okay, we done here?" Woody called out, his casual tone belied by the precise way he positioned himself, another orb already forming between his fingers. This one was compact, dense with contained power, moving faster than the others.

Hardkour dropped low, feeling the heat pass over him as he rolled clear of Quantum's follow-up strike. Every near-miss, every blocked hit was starting to wear on him – not physically, but still…

Pushing up from his roll, Hardkour launched a right hook at Woody's smug face. The cape slipped the punch like he'd seen it coming a mile away, that infuriating grin never wavering. "This kid fights kinda fair for a villain," Woody remarked to his brother, eyes never leaving Hardkour. "Thought he had fire? What's with the taser-fists?"

The question made Hardkour's jaw clench. Fire. His trump card, the power that could turn this parking lot into ground zero. But with Sparky still down somewhere in the chaos? The risk wasn't worth it. His friend had taken enough hits tonight.

"Maybe he's out of lighter-fluid." Quantum's voice rumbled with quiet amusement, like he was sharing an inside joke. His mask tilted slightly, studying Hardkour with clinical interest. "Or maybe he's just holding back."

Frustration burned in Hardkour's chest, but he kept his eyes locked on Quantum's mask, searching for any tell of their next move. "Trust me," he bit out, forcing confidence into his voice, "I've got plenty left." The words tasted like a challenge, defiance rising up to replace his earlier uncertainty. If they wanted to see what he could really do, fine. He'd show them.

His body dropped into a fighting stance automatically, movements becoming sharper, more focused as he centered himself. No more playing around. He jabbed at Quantum, then twisted, throwing an elbow aimed at Woody's ribs.

Woody twisted aside, his movements casual, almost lazy, as if he had all the time in the world. Greg's teeth ground together in frustration, but he didn't have the time to dwell on it. Greg's fists sparked to life, electricity surging through his veins like a second pulse.

The empty parking lot had turned into a dangerous, chaotic light show—Woody's golden orbs streaked through the air, leaving phosphene trails in Greg's vision, while Quantum's blue shields bathed the asphalt in an eerie glow. Long shadows stretched and flickered across the ground, shifting with every explosion.

Greg drove his fist into one of Quantum's shields, the electrically charged strike scraping against the barrier with a sharp crack.

Quantum staggered back, another forcefield snapping into place just in time to block the third follow-up strike. Yet again, Greg's knuckles connected with the new barrier, the charge bursting through with an ear-splitting crack.

So that was the trick! Quantum seemed unfazed by the electrick punches, but his barriers?

Not so much.

Quantum's shields were strong, but Greg's electricity carved through them like a buzzsaw, each punch blowing apart the shimmering defenses. The tension in the air grew heavier with every strike, the ground beneath them trembling with each clash. Static crackled across the pavement, and Greg's hair bristled beneath his mask.

> Beginner Combat Lv Up!

> Lv 34

>

> Electro (Minor) Lv Up!

> Lv 8

"Not bad," Woody called out, rolling his shoulders with theatrical flair. Another energy sphere materialized between his fingers, more condensed than the others. The sphere pulsed and shifted in his palm like a miniature sun. "But you're gonna have to try harder than that!"

He hurled it with a flick of his fingers.

Hardkour ducked low, the blast screaming past his ear and detonating behind him in a burst of heat and force. The shockwave rocked the parking lot, scattering debris and forcing Greg to roll forward into a crouch. A quick glance showed his shoulder singed, the costume blackened and torn where the blast had grazed him. The acrid stench of burnt fabric filled his nose, but he shoved it aside. Stay focused. Stay moving.

His body fell into a rhythm—measured footwork, controlled breaths, staying close enough to force them into mistakes. Woody was fast, but ranged attacks were riskier in close quarters.

Quantum, though, was adapting. The next time Hardkour shattered one of his barriers, Quantum stepped forward, letting the remaining charge arc across his body. Electricity crackled over his blue-and-white suit, drawn into controlled pulses. Greg's chest tightened.

"Ah, figured it out, huh?" Quantum's voice was calm, even amused. He dismissed his shields with a gesture, letting his hands drop to his sides. "Go ahead. Hit me again. I dare you."

Greg's fists clenched tighter, sparks dancing along his knuckles. Don't take the bait. He pivoted, aiming a reinforced punch at Quantum's side, careful to suppress the electricity remaining in his swing. The blow connected with a satisfying thud, the force knocking the mercenary back a step.

But Quantum only chuckled, rolling his shoulder as if brushing off the hit. "What's wrong? Your punches getting soft?"

Hardkour threw another blow, this time at Quantum's chest. The merc dodged slightly, forcing Greg to adjust his angle mid-swing. The move disrupted his concentration just enough for a faint electric charge to spark back to life on his fist. His knuckles connected, and the electricity jumped instantly to Quantum's body.

The crackle of stolen power filled the air as Quantum's armor absorbed the charge, blue arcs flaring across his chest. Greg cursed under his breath, stepping back sharply.

Quantum grinned beneath his mask. "Thanks for the boost, kid."

"Yeah, you're welcome. Just keep standing there like a punching bag, see how long that lasts," Greg shot back, his voice sharp as he circled to reposition. His fists sparked to life again, glowing brighter, the charge wild and volatile. He focused, forcing himself to calm the energy. No more mistakes. Keep the electricity for the shields. Normal hits for him.

Woody flanked from the side, tossing another golden orb that arced low. Hardkour sidestepped it, the explosion rattling the ground behind him. Woody flashed a grin, darting to the top of a wrecked car for a better angle.

"Gotta keep up, Hardkour!" Woody called, his tone sing-song and infuriatingly cocky.

Hardkou lunged toward Quantum, fists blazing. Another shield snapped up between them, but his electrically charged punch tore through it, sending a crackling shockwave outwards. He followed with a second strike, smashing the remnants of the field, and drove his knee toward Quantum's ribs.

Quantum reacted too slowly this time, the knee slamming into his side with a solid thud. He grunted, staggering back, but Greg's satisfaction was short-lived as another barrier shimmered into place.

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Greg's jaw tightened as Quantum regained his balance, the blue glow of his armor now brighter than before. Every misstep is just giving him more juice. Can't use fire because there's not enough force behind it to actually get past the barrier — not without going crazy with it and Sparky's still around… somewhere…

"Not bad," Quantum said, the mocking edge in his tone cutting through the tension. "But you're still not hitting hard enough."

"Don't worry," Greg shot back, electricity flaring at his fists again. "I'm just warming up."

"Honestly…" Quantum's voice dripped with mockery, the hint of a smirk visible beneath his mask. Stolen electricity crackled across his armor in controlled arcs. "I doubt it."

His counterattack came like a freight train, the displaced air alone enough to make Hardkour's ears pop as he barely twisted clear. The punch left a small crater where it connected with the ground, sending spider-web cracks through the concrete.

There was no time to respond.

Woody had already repositioned, moving with that annoying, stop-motion, zippy speed, golden orbs of energy arcing from his fingers like angry fireflies. They shot through the air in a precise pattern, detonating in bursts that forced Greg to constantly adjust his footing. Each explosion sent out concussive waves that rippled through the vacant lot, leaving Greg no choice but to keep moving. Every near-miss raised the hair on his arms, each golden flash searing itself into his retinas.

It wasn't random, not by a long shot. These two have definitely done this before. Woody's attacks weren't designed to land directly—they were like chess moves, pushing Greg into Quantum's range. Every detonation carved the battlefield into smaller and smaller spaces, herding him toward the human fortress.

Then came the hammer blow. A larger orb hovered behind Greg for a split second before detonating with a crack that felt like the world splitting open. The shockwave slammed into him like a freight train, hurling him forward with dizzying force. He couldn't stop himself from careening straight into Quantum's waiting grip.

The mercenary's hands closed around Greg's collar like a vice, his strength casual but overwhelming. Greg barely had time to react before Quantum lifted him like a rag doll and slammed him into the ground. The impact hit like a sledgehammer, vibrations ricocheting through Greg's skull as his head bounced off the asphalt. Stars exploded behind his eyes, the edges of his vision flickering like static on a broken screen.

-297

-108

It took pure, stubborn will to keep himself conscious.

"Usually, we don't play this nice with villains," Woody remarked conversationally, adjusting his visor with casual disregard. His smirk held an edge of genuine amusement, like this was all some entertaining diversion. Golden energy continued to dance between his fingers, casting strange shadows across his face. "But you? You're lucky we're in a good mood."

Hardkour pushed himself up, spitting blood onto the cracked pavement. His skull throbbed in time with his heartbeat, but he forced his voice to stay steady. Each breath tasted like copper and concrete dust. "Oh yeah? Guess I should be flattered, huh?" Electric energy coursed down his arms as he straightened, centering himself.

"More like grateful," Quantum replied, his tone carrying that particular brand of condescension reserved for unruly children. His shield flickered to life as he stepped forward, the barrier humming with stolen power. Light from nearby streetlamps bent around the forcefield, creating prismatic distortions in the air. "Not every day a kid gets a free pass."

"I'm not just a kid," Greg muttered, his voice low but steady. His eyes flicked between the brothers, analyzing their movements, their habits. Quantum was predictable, always anchoring himself with those shields, relying on his absorption to shrug off hits. Woody, though—he was a problem. Constantly moving, using his brother's position as an anchor point for his attacks.

Break that synergy, disrupt their rhythm and...

Hardkour surged forward without hesitation, his movements a blur of speed. Woody's swing came fast, glowing gold with energy, but Greg slipped under it, his body twisting with practiced precision. His momentum carried him straight into Quantum, his fist driving into the mercenary's shielded ribs…

Only for the shield to vanish.

Electricity arced from Hardkour's knuckles on impact, crackling along Quantum's armor, and disappearing into the mercenary's suit with barely a flicker. Quantum didn't even flinch, his infuriating stoicism intact.

Greg didn't have time to process the frustration before Woody closed the gap again, moving like liquid. His kick came up in a blur of blue-tinged energy, aimed high and fast. Hardkour raised his arms just in time, the impact rattling his bones as he absorbed the hit. He stepped back, resetting his footing as Woody circled like a predator, golden energy swirling at his fingertips.

"That all you got?" Woody taunted, his grin widening. "C'mon, kid, you're embarrassing yourself."

> Electrokinesis (Minor) Lv Up!

> Lv 9

Quantum's fist drove into Greg's raised arm, the force of the blow traveling up his bones like a shockwave. It was the kind of hit that made your whole skeleton feel like it was vibrating. Greg slid back across the cracked asphalt, his boots skidding, but Surface Adhesion kept him grounded. His teeth clenched behind his mask as he reset his stance, every nerve in his arm screaming in protest.

Quantum's forcefield pulsed faintly, a low hum that rose and fell with the rhythm of their fight, like some alien heartbeat. Each time Hardkour slipped past one of their attacks, the next was already there, perfectly timed, interlocking like a machine. It wasn't just two people fighting; it was a system, and Greg was caught in the gears.

"C'mon, kid," Woody called, bouncing lightly on his feet as if the fight were just warming up. A fresh orb crackled to life in his hand, sparking and buzzing with barely contained energy. "Show us what you got left!"

Greg's fists tightened, sparks crackling along his knuckles. His chest burned with exhaustion, his body a patchwork of bruises and aches. But the anger, the fire that had been building since the fight began, refused to be smothered. They think I'm just another cape. Another dumb kid with a mask and a bad attitude.

Fine.

He'd show them who they were really dealing with.

With a burst of speed, Hardkour charged forward, his body blurring into motion. Quantum's shield snapped into place, shimmering blue and impenetrable, but Greg dipped low and slipped past it with practiced precision. Sparks trailed his fists as he drove a flurry of punches at Woody, targeting his ribs and sides. The first strikes landed on empty air as Woody darted back, his movement liquid and infuriating.

Then, finally, contact.

Greg's last punch grazed Woody's side, sending the man staggering slightly. His visor flashed with a faint crack, and for the first time, Woody's grin faltered.

> Electrokinesis (Minor) Lv Up!

> Lv 10

> Beginner Combat Lv Lv Up!

> Lv 35

"Alright, alright, not bad, kid," Woody said, slowly adjusting his cracked shades with a mocking chuckle. "But you're gonna have to do better than that."

Greg barely caught the blur of motion before Quantum closed in, moving with the inevitability of a freight train. The mercenary was relentless, a fortress wrapped in shimmering energy. A new shield snapped into existence inches from Greg's face, its surface rippling like disturbed water.

The prismatic light scattered across the broken pavement, momentarily dazzling him.

Greg slipped left on pure instinct, his body flowing into a defensive stance as his fist shot out, targeting Quantum's side. The punch connected, but Quantum simply tanked it.

Before Greg could react, Quantum countered.

The large man's fist came in like a battering ram, slamming into Greg's chest with devastating force. The impact sent him spinning, his body bouncing across the broken asphalt like a thrown ragdoll. His vision blurred as his head smacked against the ground, his mouth filling with the sharp, metallic tang of blood.

-282

-135

-72

-45

-8

> Resistance: Blunt Lv Up!

> Lv 75

Oh, nice. He spat blood onto the ground and squared his shoulders. Been a while.

"You done yet?" Woody asked, his voice light, almost teasing, as he conjured another golden orb. "Or you still got some fight in you?"

Something hot and defiant burned in Hardkour's chest, refusing to stay down.

"You wanted more?" Blood dripped from his split lip as he grinned, the expression more feral than friendly. The metallic taste in his mouth only fueled the growing rage. "Fine. I'll give you everything I've got."

His fists shook at his sides as he pushed thoughts of Sparky from his mind, focusing entirely on the two mercenaries before him. Woody's insufferable smirk, Quantum's robotic composure – both fueled the heat building in his core like a furnace about to blow. His fingers twitched with the urge to unleash it, to let the flames consume everything. The air around him began to shimmer with barely contained power, the temperature rising noticeably even several feet away.

His last thread of patience snapped like a rubber band pulled too tight.

"Oh, you guys wanna kill me?" The words tore from his throat, echoing across the empty lot with raw fury. The nearby street lights flickered and dimmed as the air temperature spiked around him. "Fine. Fine. Well, you FIRST!"

Fire exploded from his palm, white-hot and hungry. The flames wrapped around his arm like a living thing, turning the night into day. The fireball streaked through the air, its trajectory leaving a trail of superheated atmosphere that distorted everything behind it like a highway mirage.

Woody's perpetual smirk vanished as he dove aside, the explosion sending him stumbling. The blast wave shattered nearby windows, showering the ground with glittering fragments.

Quantum's hasty barrier bent inward from the force, blue energy straining against orange flames as cracks of stress appeared in its surface.

"I can't have some peace and quiet?!" Another fireball formed in Hardkour's hand, twice the size of the first. The heat was intense enough to make the air shimmer around him as he hurled it forward, the asphalt beneath his feet beginning to soften and bubble. It detonated against Quantum's shield with the force of a small bomb, the concussive wave strong enough to set off nearby car alarms and send loose debris flying in all directions. "You just couldn't leave me alone?"

Woody backpedaled, his visor cracked and askew as Hardkour unleashed a barrage of flames. Each projectile lit up the lot like a miniature sun, casting multiple shadows that danced across broken concrete. The explosions kicked up a storm of dust and debris, filling the air with the acrid smell of burning asphalt and melted metal. Their semi-synchronized movements faltered for the first time, their practiced coordination disrupted by sheer ferocity.

"You want my head?" Rage made his voice shake, made his vision tunnel until all he could see were his targets through the heat haze. His hands glowed like forge-hot iron as more flames gathered around them. "Come and take it! I've got more where that came from!"

"...You've got more heads?"

"AAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!" Fire erupted from his hands in a continuous stream, turning the parking lot into ground zero of a personal inferno.

The smoke and heat distorted everything, but Hardkour barely noticed the strain in his muscles or the way his costume was starting to singe. The world had narrowed to just him and his targets, everything else falling away in the face of his fury. He was locked in, focused on ending this, on burning them both into nothing if that's what it took.

> Pyrokinesis (Adept) Lv Up!

> Lv 31

A hand clamped down hard on his shoulder, the sudden contact sending a jolt through Hardkour's combat-ready nerves. "HARDKOUR!" The familiar voice cut through his rage-induced tunnel vision like a bucket of ice water.

Greg spun around, fist raised and still crackling with barely contained power, only to lock eyes with Sparky – no, Apex right now – his friend's golden eyes wide with an urgency that made Hardkour's stomach drop. "What?" he snapped, blood still rushing in his ears like a freight train, drowning out everything but the thundering pulse of his own fury.

Sparky took a cautious step back, hands raised in a placating gesture that only served to irritate Hardkour more. His friend's costume was still smoking slightly from earlier explosions, the yellow lines barely visible under a layer of concrete dust. "G... bro, stop."

The simple command made Hardkour blink, the flames around his fists flickering uncertainly as confusion pierced through his anger like a needle through a balloon. "Wha—no! You don't get it!" His head whipped around to glare at the two mercenaries. They stood amid the wreckage he'd created, their pristine costumes now gray with dust and marked with scorch patterns. Despite their disheveled appearance, both maintained combat-ready stances. "These are mercenaries, dude. They're out for my head! They've been trying to kill me all week!"

Sparky's expression shifted from concern to shock, his golden eyes widening as the implications sank in. "Wait, what?"

Hardkour's jaw clenched so tight he could hear his teeth creaking, rage surging back as he locked onto his targets again. Fresh flames licked up his arms, casting dancing shadows across the devastated parking lot. "Yeah," he snarled, voice dropping to something dangerous and raw, "and I'm gonna put 'em down first."

"Wait!" Sparky launched himself between Hardkour and the mercenaries, arms spread wide in a desperate blocking maneuver. His eyes darted rapidly between them, reading the tension in the air like a live wire about to spark.

The interruption made Hardkour's blood boil. His teeth ground together as he fought the urge to simply bowl his friend over. "I swear to god—"

"Just... just wait." Sparky's voice carried an edge of desperation as he turned to face the mercenary duo. His stance shifted, becoming more authoritative despite his battered appearance. "You two!"

Woody, still fiddling with his cracked visor, gave a casual nod that seemed calculated to appear effortless. "Yeah?"

Quantum managed a terse acknowledgment, though Hardkour noticed with savage satisfaction that the hero was favoring one arm, the limb hanging at an angle that suggested significant damage. "What?"

Sparky crossed his arms, his golden eyes narrowing with suspicion. "You're hunting villains, right?"

A snort escaped Woody as that insufferable smirk crept back onto his face. "No duh, kid."

Sparky jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward Hardkour. "Then why are you after him?"

Hardkour felt a smirk tugging at his own lips, appreciation for his friend's logic momentarily overshadowing his rage. "Yeah, I'm not a villain!"

Quantum's response came flat and immediate, delivered with all the emotion of reading a grocery list. "You're on record with the PRT, wanted under suspicion for roughly a dozen homicides."

The accusation made Hardkour's jaw drop. "Of gang members!" The words came out half-incredulous, half-outraged. His hands still smoldered, small flames dancing between his fingers. "Terrorists!"

Woody raised an eyebrow above his damaged visor, his shrug deliberately casual. "Cool motive. Still murder."

Hardkour muttered wordlessly under his breath, barely suppressing the urge to throw another fireball just for emphasis.

He took a measured step forward, heat still radiating from his hands in waves that distorted the air. "Okay, but why are all of you guys trying to hunt me down like this? Vigilante justice or something? 'Cause some of these guys after me are straight-up killers." The parking lot around them was a wasteland of scorched concrete and melted asphalt, testament to just how close Greg had come to actually ending them too.

Sparky nodded beside him, arms crossed as he fixed the mercenaries with that particular stare of his that made most people deeply uncomfortable. "Yeah, what's the deal?"

Quantum's sigh carried the weight of someone who'd rather be anywhere else in the world. Even through his mask, his exhaustion was palpable. "Because there's a Two Hundred and Fifty Thousand dollar bounty on his head. Dead or alive. If dead, posted online for the full price. If alive, dropped at the local PRT for half the bounty."

The words hit Hardkour like a physical blow, shock cutting through his remaining anger like arctic wind through summer clothes. His mouth fell open behind his mask as the implications sank in. "The PRT put a bounty out on me?"

A hysterical laugh threatened to bubble up in his throat. Only 250k? Feel like I'm worth more than that, but sure.

Woody scratched his stubbled chin, visor gleaming under the flickering street lights as he glanced skyward. "Nah... I mean, could be, but I doubt it. Just requested you be dropped off there. If you're still alive. Honestly, it's weird that you're worth more dead. It's usually the other way." His casual tone belied the way he kept shifting his weight, ready to move at the slightest provocation.

Hardkour's mind raced through the possibilities, each one darker than the last. Fresh anger coursed through his veins as residual flames danced across his knuckles. His voice dropped to something cold and dangerous as he locked eyes with both mercenaries. "How about I cut you both a deal? I won't roast you alive or cut you in half, and you leave me the fuck alone."

The threat landed hard. Woody's eyes flashed yellow behind his cracked shades as he took an involuntary step back, while Quantum tensed up despite his clearly injured arm, like a wounded animal preparing for one last fight.

Sparky jumped between them again, hands raised like a referee calling time in a particularly volatile boxing match. His eyes darted between Hardkour and the mercenaries, reflecting golden in the darkness. "He meaaaans—" His voice carried that particular drawl he used when trying to prevent violence, a tight smile visible even through his mask. "That everybody stops fighting, and we can all go rest up and maybe decide if we want to throw down later, right?"

Hardkour's fingers itched with the urge to summon Nozorashi, to end this decisively. The familiar weight of the weapon in his Inventory felt like it was calling to him. He rounded on Sparky, ready to argue his point, to explain why leaving enemies alive was always a mistake.

But Sparky met his gaze with a look that could melt steel. "Riiiiiiight?"

Something in his friend's tone made Hardkour's protests die in his throat. He clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes with theatrical annoyance. "...Yeah."

Woody's relief was almost tangible as he raised a hand in agreement. "Sounds good to me."

Quantum muttered something inaudible but gave a stiff nod that looked painful. "Fine."

The mercenaries backed away with the careful movements of people trying not to spook a dangerous animal, before turning to sprint into the shadows at the edge of the lot. Hardkour tracked their movement until they vanished, embers still dancing around his clenched fist as combat-grade adrenaline continued to surge through his system. "Fuckin' dickhead mercs," he growled, his body screaming at him to give chase, to finish what they'd started.

A pointed glare from Sparky caught his attention, his friend's eyebrow raised in that particular way that meant a lecture was incoming.

"What?" Hardkour demanded, unable to keep the defensive sneer from his voice.

Sparky rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful, arms crossed over his chest. "Learn some de-escalation techniques, bro."

Hardkour's expression twisted, shifting into something in between both disbelief and outrage behind his mask. "Whaaa?"

His friend just sighed, shaking his head with the weariness of someone who'd seen this coming a mile away. "Might save your life one day."

> Quest Failed!

> Capture or Casualty