Kaelen locked up Zeke’s shop and slid into his sleek black Audi, with Elara taking the passenger seat, her dark eyes scanning the streets, while Loren settled in the back, her focus sharp as always. The night was humid, the city lights casting a dull glow over the streets of Ravetham as the engine hummed to life. Kaelen checked his phone before tossing it back into the cupholder, a message from Jason flashing across the screen.

The Abyssal Vault. Shadow Lane and Eclipse Boulevard. Be quick.

Punching the coordinates into the GPS, Kaelen shifted into drive. The faint whir of the engine and the glowing dash filled the silence. As they pulled away from the curb, Elara, without hesitation, began changing into her Cowl outfit. The suit seemed to shift and meld with her body, every movement fluid and purposeful, as if she had done this a thousand times before. Kaelen kept his focus on the road, though he noticed her casual confidence from the corner of his eye.

Once fully dressed, Elara pulled out her phone and turned on the news. The anchor’s monotonous voice droned through the car’s speakers. “In other bizarre reports, Warptor, self-proclaimed savior of the galaxy, now claims that the alien Delphinus was responsible for the extinction of the dinosaurs over 200 million years ago…”

Elara chuckled, shaking her head, but Loren, seated behind, leaned forward slightly. “Delphinus might actually be capable of that. You ever see that thing fight?” She glanced out the window. “I wouldn’t put it past an alien to commit a genocide-level event.”

Kaelen’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. He had heard enough about Delphinus, that psychopathic dolphin wearing the mask of a hero. He didn’t trust the creature. Not one bit.

The drive was smooth, the streets eerily quiet, as if Ravetham itself was holding its breath. Soon, the sleek, towering structure of The Abyssal Vault came into view, its obsidian glass walls reflecting the city’s neon lights. The casino dominated the upscale district, an edifice of wealth and corruption run by the notorious goblin tycoon, Bankhands.

Kaelen drove toward the back of the parking lot, slipping into a secluded spot. He turned off the engine and glanced into the rearview mirror just as Loren handed him his Wolf helmet. Sliding it on, he felt the familiar surge of power as his armor activated. The symbiote-like material rippled over his body, encasing him in a second skin of protective black with the faintest shimmer of silver.

Kaelen dialed his brother.

Jason’s voice crackled over the line, the noise of slot machines and laughter filling the background. “We’re inside,” Jason confirmed. “Don Cappo’s got us at the high rollers table, keeping the VIPs entertained. Everything’s running smooth. The plan’s in motion.”

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Kaelen glanced at the entrance of the casino, where well-dressed patrons moved in and out, oblivious to what was about to unfold beneath their noses. “We’ll be going in through the back,” Kaelen said, eyes scanning the area. “Keep the guards busy upstairs while we hit the vault for the docs and cores.”

Jason chuckled. “Just don’t trip any alarms, little bro. I’m not dealing with casino security on top of swindling these rich idiots.”

Kaelen hung up, his attention shifting to Elara—now Strike—and Loren, who was fully transformed into Maenad.

“Let’s move,” Kaelen said, his voice steady.

Circling the casino’s perimeter, they moved silently, sticking to the shadows like ghosts. The rear entrance loomed ahead, exactly as Jason had promised—unguarded. Don Cappo’s distraction was working perfectly.

“I’ll take care of the cameras,” Strike murmured, her eyes already on the surveillance system mounted near the employee entrance. She pulled out a small device, her fingers deftly working across its surface. Within seconds, the camera light flickered, then shifted from red to green. “We’re on a loop. Five minutes. Let’s go.”

Kaelen nodded, pushing the door open with slow precision. The cool, sterile air of the service hallway greeted them, a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos upstairs. They moved in silence through the narrow corridor, their footsteps muffled on the tile floor. Rows of employee lockers lined the walls, and ahead, a stairwell descended into the casino’s bowels.

At the bottom of the stairs, they emerged into a dimly lit hallway that ended in a heavy, fortified steel door. Strike moved ahead, her focus razor-sharp as she examined the keypad. “This won’t take long,” she muttered, pulling out her hacking tool.

Kaelen’s attention, however, was drawn to the two guards further down the hall. Both were armed, their postures relaxed, unaware of the danger lurking just feet away. He glanced at Maenad, giving a subtle nod.

Loren’s movement was seamless. In an instant, she vanished into the shadows, her movements fluid and deadly. The first guard barely had time to blink before she was behind him, her wand touching the back of his neck as she whispered an incantation. His body seized, eyes rolling back as he crumpled to the floor. The second guard fared no better, collapsing under the weight of another spell. Maenad was back at Kaelen’s side within seconds, her expression unreadable.

“Got it,” Strike whispered, the vault door hissing open as a cool blast of air escaped from within.

The vault was a treasure trove—an organized chaos of shelves lined with glowing monster cores, stacks of cash, and cabinets filled with sealed documents. Kaelen moved swiftly, his telekinesis popping the locks with ease. He rifled through the documents, quickly identifying those he needed—blackmail on politicians, CEOs, crime lords. It was all here.

Strike worked beside him, her bag rapidly filling with glowing cores. “We’ve got three minutes before the loop resets,” she reminded him, her voice low but urgent.

Kaelen nodded, stuffing the last of the documents into his satchel. Just as they turned to leave, Maenad’s voice crackled over the comms. “Incoming. Stairwell. We’ve got company.”

Kaelen cursed under his breath. “Change of plans,” he said quietly. “Service tunnels. Now.”

Maenad led the way, guiding them through a narrow, musty passage. The air was thick and stale, the tunnel long disused. But it was their best shot at escaping unnoticed.

Minutes later, they emerged into a dark alley behind the casino, the neon lights barely touching the gloom where they stood.

“We did it,” Strike said, exhaling sharply.

Kaelen allowed himself a small grin beneath his helmet. They had done it. The Abyssal Vault had no idea what hit it.