His massive axe raised before him, Morton marched forward wearing a vicious snarl. His furious face looked even more ominous to Rory as the smoke rising from the jagged edges of his armor swirled about him.

Rory’s uncertainty and lack of confidence was screaming in his mind. He had no idea how to fight, and he certainly was no match for a Soul Warrior like Morton. Hell, he’d barely been able to beat a beastial snake half his level. The identical blades of the axe looked enormous in Rory’s eyes as he backed away, his gut screaming at him that he was about to die.

The furious man before him strode forward and his axe rose higher and over his shoulder. Continuing his backpedal, Rory reacted by instinct just as the man got in the range of the bladed monstrosity. The axe whipped forward and Rory raised his arms, holding his chakram flat against them. The collision sent shockwaves through Rory’s arms as sparks flew and he found himself pushed backward. Clumsily stumbling a few steps back, Rory tripped over the crushed corpse of one of Morton’s gunmen and fell on his rear.

Laughing, Morton raised his axe over his head. “I knew you were all talk, kid. Maybe your boss will get the message when I send him your head.”

The axe fell.

Rory watched as a one of the remaining lights in the ceiling flickered and sparked, a brightened flash glinting off the edge of the blade as it approached. He wondered, in what he thought might the last moments of his life, whether his Da would have been proud or angry at him. Would he have be glad that Rory tried his hardest for his mum, or angry that had failed in the end anyway.

I was almost there, Da. So close. I worked so hard for so long, and I almost made it. Maybe six months will be enough for mum to get better. But if not… What happens then? She’ll be out on the street again. And then she’ll be killed and I’ll have failed you both…

Detached from the events around him, Rory’s mind raced at that thought. He’d failed them, and this time it would be end. His mum would die. And a single word exited in mind and mouth as he raised his white chakram and the axe skidded along it to deflect from the center of this chest.

“No.”

The axe’s edge bit into his arm, scraping along it, removing the skin along his bicept. Rory yelled in pain and anger and determination as he raised his leg and kicked out at Morton. He had little leverage from his prone position, but the large man still stumbled back, his axe scraping along the flexcrete floor with a screech.

Morton looked down at him in surprise. “Well, you put quite a few vessels into your body, didn’t you.”

Rory said nothing as he tried to rise to his feet, kicking away from the body he had tripped over. But before he could even make it to his knees, Morton charged again. The axe swept in from Rory’s left, intending to break through his ribcage and embed into his lungs and heart.

Once again Rory reacted by flatting his chakram against his forearms and accepting the blow. The sound of metal ringing on metal rang as the axe struck, but it was deflected downward, once again striking Rory. It bit into the bent leg was using to attempt to rise. Both the momentum of the blow to his arms and the pain in his leg, caused Rory to fall once again.

He rolled to the side as the axe fell straight down again, the axe missing him my inches as it bit into the floor with a clang and crunch. Small pieces of flexcrete peppered Rory’s face and neck, the stinging letting him know they had caused a few small cuts.

He ignored them, just as he forced himself to ignore the wounds on his leg and arm. He rolled again, seeing the glint of the axe once again falling. Once again the axe smashed into the warehouse’s pockmarked floor, and once again Rory was struck by debris. The axe raise again, and once again Rory rolled as it fell.

But this time his roll ended early as his shoulder struck a wall.

“No more room,” Morton laughed.

Then pain exploded in Rory’s middle as Morton took the opportunity to kick him. Air was driven from his lungs as he clutched at his stomach. Raising his armored leg, Morton stomped down on Rory’s shoulder and arm as he was curled into himself on the floor. More kicks and stomps followed, Moron laughing and swearing the entire time.

Then it stopped and Rory lifted his head slowly, daring to take a look. Morton stood above him, rebuttoning and straightening his deep blue suit.

“Carlisle, get your cowardly ass over here!” Morton yelled. Rory heard footsteps swifly approaching and the man appeared. “Get him sitting up.”

“Yes, sir,” Carlisle said as he stepped toward Rory, a victorious grin on his face.

Rory groaned as was roughly pulled to a sitting position and then shoved back against the M-steel wall. Carlisle backed up a step, then pulled his leg back and kicked Rory in the arm. The force of the blow was negligible, his normal human strength barely enough to cause pain against Rory’s myst-infused body. But the pressure against his already sliced and beaten arm, caused Rory to moan anyway.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Morton ordered and Carlisle took a step back, chuckling. “Take this as a lesson, kid. Tricks and cleverness only get you so far. Strength rules in the end. Not that you’ll be able to use the advice.” Then he raised his axe with both hands directly over his head. “But I’ll let your boss know that you entertained me a bit anyway. Of course, that’ll be before I kill him and that old bitch. And then I’ll take her cute little granddaughter and have what I wanted in the first place.”

Rory looked up and saw the man stretch and pull his arms back, reading a massive downward blow to split him in half. That was when his uninjured left arm snapped forward, his black chakram appearing and then disappearing in a flash and blur.

For a second, Morton froze and Carlisle’s laughing halted. Then Rory watched as Carlisle slowly turned his head toward his boss, only to find a scaled black circle half embedded into his stomach. Morton stumbled, his fingers letting go of the hold on his battleaxe, which fell from his hands only to dissipate into myst before striking the floor behind him.

Rory moaned again as he crawled to his feet, leaning his good shoulder against the wall. Carlisle, frozen since Rory threw his weapon, screamed, and turned around to run. Rory took a step forward and recalled his weapon. Then he threw it low at Carlisle, slicing into his ankle. The man screamed in pain and stumbled to the ground.

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Turning from him, Rory looked toward Morton. The man was injecting himself in the stomach with something. Rory sighed. “I’m so jealous you can use those,” he mumbled as he limped toward the man. Rory rolled his shoulders, finding this injured one not too bad. Stiff, but fully functional. He resummoned his weapons and three one and then the other at Morton. The white struck the hand that was holding the now empty injector.

Morton howled in pain as his hand detached and fell from his wrist. The black chakram, meanwhile, struck his stomach again, crossing the old, wound which was visibly healing.

This time it was Morton who was curled into a ball on the floor with Rory standing over him. Rory dematerialized both weapons, then slowly made his way to his discarded chair. He reached it, the sounds being Carlisle’s whimpers, Moron’s groans, and the sounds of Rory’s feet.

Grabbing the chair, Rory loudly dragged it back toward the downed Moron, the sound of its scraping echoing throughout the room. Having reached his destination, he stripped off his shirt, and dropped his pants. Then he sat with a groan of relief.

“It didn’t have to be this way,” Rory said as he pulled a canister of Elphina’s poultice from his vault and, using his good hand, slathered it all over his bleeding leg. “You could have just given Carlisle to me.”

A moaned “Fuck you!” was all the response he got.

Rory winced at the temporary sting and then sighed in relief as the numbing effect of the poultice started to take effect. He started rubbing it on his arm and then the rest of his injuries including all over his neck and torso.

“This stuff is great,” he said with an exhale. He withrew a bandage and started wrapping it around his leg. “I was going to offer you a deal, but if you’re not interested…”

Morton uncurled and glared, be croaked, “What kind of deal?”

“The kind where you give me all your money and I let you go.”

Morton laughed once and then coughed, blood spewing from his mouth. “Over my dead body,” he wheezed.

Rory looked at him, not moving. Moron smiled, his bloody teeth showing.

“Okay.” Rory said with a nod right before his right arm shot forward and down, a white circle launching forward and slamming four inches into Morton’s forehead. Rory watched as Myst exited the body and sank into his weapons, causing them to flare brightly.

“Guess you were right. Good lesson,” Rory said to the lifeless body as he withdrew a small box from his vault, placed it on his lap, and opened it.

Inside was a device that looked a bit like a laze pistol, but much more angular. He carefully unwound the bandages from his leg wound. He winced at the slice, clearly too deep to heal on its own, even with Elphina’s concoction helping. He lifted the boxed pistol-like item out with his right hand and reached across to place the square barrel onto the very edge of the wound. He pulled the trigger and there was a buzzing sound, following by his feeling a pulling on his wound which made him wince, despite the poultice’s numbing. A light on the back of the device flashed green and a guiding light showed lower. Rory adjusted it a bit to be on the lit target and pulled the trigger again. He repeated the same process until he got to the end of the wound. Putting the device back in its box, Rory examined the slice. The edges of it were being held together by something Rory couldn’t see, and it had stopped bleeding. He slathered a bit more poultice on it, rewrapped it, and flexed his leg.

Not bad. It’s no healing infusion, but it beats the alternative.

Rory got to his feet slowly, moving his body.

Definitely sore, but not bad all this considered. Then he looked at the still whimpering Carlisle. Now I have other things to deal with.

He leaned over and sent Morton’s body into his vault. He then walked towards the other man. “Carlisle! Shut up and listen.”

He kept whimpering.

“Look, I’ll help with the leg, just do what I say,” Rory said, exasperated.

Finally Carlisle turned his head toward Rory. Seeing him approach, he whined nonsensically and tried to rise, only to collapse back onto the ground as soon as he put weight on his bleeding ankle.

“Don’t be a baby, Carlisle. It’s barely a cut.”

Rory slowly kneeled next to the prone man. He pulled his bloody pant leg up and removed his shoe and then sock. Examining the slice, Rory couldn’t help but feel proud of himself. It had not been a perfect throw, but it was bloody close considering he had just taken quite the beating.

Once again taking the poultice out, Rory rubbed some on the ankle wound.

“Okay, Carlisle. I’m offering you the same deal I did Morton. Give me all your money and I let you go.”

Unlike Morton, Carlisle clearly cared more for his life than his money. He nodded furtively. “Yes, yes. I agree. Take it.”

“Great. Now unlock your ring so I can use it. And make the projection public so I can see what you’re doing.” Then he summoned his chakram and twirled it in front of Carlisle’s face. “Any funny business and I chop off body parts while you’re still alive.”

Carlisle nodded furiously again and Rory saw him project an image of the interface unlocking his ring and doing nothing else.

“Good, hand it over,” Rory ordered after he was done.

The man gave Rory the ring with a shaking hand. He put it on his other hand and accessed it. It wasn’t a very fancy ring and had a rather small vault, which Rory emptied onto an area of floor clear of still-sizzling acid. It had about twenty-thousand pounds in hard currency, along with clothes, some food and drink, and four tablets. Taking everything but the clothes which would not fit him into his own vault, he accessed Carlisle’s banking information. He was surprised to find that the man had really not been doing as well as Rory had presumed.

“Only three million?” Rory asked the prone man, aggravated. “Aren’t you supposed to be skimming and making big money on the side? You’re a gangster, right? Where are you hiding it?”

Carlisle looked away. Rory grabbed his arm, pulled it straight and raised his chakram over it. “Safe!” the man cried. “It’s in cash in the bloody safe!”

“Great! Where?”

“Under my office.”

Rory pulled some new clothes from his vault and stood to put them on. That done, he grabbed Carlisle by the good ankle, and dragged him back out into and down the hallway and into the office with his name on it. Rory shoved aside a hideous red rug and saw a false floor. Tons of people and stores hid things away under floors and in walls in the slums so this concept was not foreign to Rory. Granted, it wasn’t under fancy protection, which he assumed this would be. Rory said nothing, just glaring at Carlisle who immediately told him how to use the ring to open the floor.

Placing his hand with Carlisle’s ring where instructed, Rory watched as a four-foot square section sunk in and slid to the side showing a M-steel safe almost that big. The man, not needing orders this time, reached forward and typed in a code into the projected interface. He then told Rory to tap it with the ring, which he did, causing the vault’s force barrier to fall. The door clicked and clanked and few times, but nothing else happened. Rory ordered Carlisle to open it, paranoid about traps.

The gangster looked at Rory and then opened the safe. As soon as the door opened, Carlisle lunged inside. And died a moment later when his head rolled a few feet away.

Rory recalled his weapons and went to the safe, looking inside. On the very top was a laze rifle.

“What a bloody idiot.”

The first thing Rory did was clear out the old code with the help of the ring. Then he closed the door and touched the safe with his own ring. It vanished into his vault with a problem.

Exhaling in relief, he left the office. Using Carlisle’s ring, Rory locked the building from everyone except himself, changed the projector out front to say, “Closed for renovation,” and found a business contact list that he used to send text commo to all employees in Carlisle’s name. It told them that the business was closed due to safety concerns and that nobody should come in for work until further notice. Not able to think of anything else he could do, he left through the back warehouse exit which he relocked behind him.

Running as fast as he could to a distant transbus, Rory used hard coins to took it to another stop where he swapped to a different transbus that took him to another stop. At that stop, he got off and went into an alley where he changed his clothes again. Then he got back on the next transbus and repeated that a few more times before he finally went to the mine.

All he could do now was wait to see what happened.