People were scattering in all directions, trying to escape the pandemonium. Through the thickening smoke, I could barely make out shapes, but the roars of engines were unmistakable.
The gang wasn't just attacking; they were hunting, throwing nets and bolas at the scattered and vulnerable as several armored trucks pulled into view.
I darted behind a rusty abandoned kiosk, trying to catch my breath and assess the situation. Rai-chan's HUD flickered a warning before my eyes, but I was too focused on the real world to pay it much attention.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted them – two bikers splitting off from the main group, heading directly towards me. Their bikes howled like enraged beasts, each rev sending a shiver down my spine. Panic surged as I realized I was in their direct path, an easy target in the open.
I was about to run to try and lose them in the narrow alleyways, but a sharp, distinct crack echoed through the air before I could move. The lead biker jerked violently, losing control of his bike. It skidded, throwing him off before crashing into a nearby trash bin with a loud clatter.
The second biker caught off guard, slowed down, looking around frantically for the source of the shot. That's when I saw her – a black woman, probably in her 60s or 70s, standing firmly by a walker. In her hand was a smoking, comically large revolver for her frame, taken right from her purse. She had an unyielding look in her eyes, one that spoke of hard-earned resilience and the will to protect her community.
"Y'all really think you can just pull up?" she shouted angrily. "Listen here now, this ain't your playground! We ain't standin' for this!"
The second biker hesitated, clearly not expecting this kind of resistance. His moment of indecision was all the opening the woman needed. She fired again, and the biker tumbled to the ground as his bike careened out of control.
As the brave woman reloaded her revolver, I moved away from the kiosk, my mind racing with options. This was no time to be a hero, but I couldn't just stand by and watch.
"Rai-chan," I whispered, "I need something, anything that can help."
There was a moment of silence before she replied, "Scanning the environment. I am detecting a network of security cameras nearby. I can tap into them for a tactical overview. This will take an estimated twenty-seven units."
"Do it," I said, ducking behind another makeshift barricade as more chaos unfolded around me.
"Commencing Hijack."
I felt a draining sensation in my solar plexus as the HUD lit up, and a web of interconnected dots and lines overlaid my vision. A large display of screens appeared in midair before me, and I could see the gang members' movements. They were herding people, corralling them towards the armored trucks. I grimaced at the sight. It wasn't just an attack; they were capturing people, dragging them off like cattle.
The sheer brutality of it all made my blood boil. But anger wouldn't help anyone here. I needed to think, to act. I wasn't carrying a weapon, and standing at five feet five inches well below a healthy weight, I wasn't good for much in a head-on fight without the element of surprise.
I was roughly seven minutes away from my home, a distance that, under normal circumstances, would have been a brisk walk. Now, the alley that would lead me toward it was on fire, and there were gangsters on both sides of the road.
I had no choice but to head north, through the marketplace – away from the direction of my home, but it was the only viable option left. But the flames were beginning to envelop the structures around me, making the air thick with smoke and heat. The marketplace now felt like a labyrinth of terror - a massive contrast from the vibrant hub of colors and smells I'd started seeing it as.
The marketplace was disorienting, filled with overturned stalls and abandoned goods. I stumbled over a fallen sign, catching myself just in time. The sound of my own heart thundered in my ears, louder than the chaos around me.
"Situational update, Rai-chan?" I gasped out, ducking behind a deserted fruit stand.
"Analyzing... There is a 78% probability that the gang members will intercept any movement towards the south or west. Your current trajectory is the most viable, but caution is advised," she advised, her voice in my head calming me amidst the bedlam. "Be cautious — there is no direction free from hostiles."
Taking a deep breath, I braced myself and darted from behind the stand. The ground was slick with spilled produce, making each step a treacherous gamble. My ribs still burned with pain. While I hadn't quite broken them at the incident in North End, they were still bruised and tender to the touch.
I could hear the sounds of the gang members nearby – shouting, the revving of engines, the occasional gunshot. It was like being hunted, an unnerving realization that made my skin crawl.
Suddenly, a shadow loomed ahead of me. I skidded to a stop, heart leaping into my throat. It was a gang member; his back turned to me as he scanned the chaos. I crouched down, trying to blend in with the debris around me.
Rai-chan's HUD flickered, highlighting a narrow gap between two stalls. It was a tight squeeze, but it was my only chance. I took a deep breath and edged towards the gap, moving as silently as possible as I crept forward.
The gang member turned, sensing my movement, as I looked up from behind a wooden crate. Time seemed to freeze for a moment, my entire being focused on that terrifying moment. Then, as quickly as it happened, he looked away, distracted by a shout from one of his comrades.
I didn't waste a second. Slipping through the gap, I stared ahead at another narrow alleyway. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure it could be heard from a mile away as I half-stumbled and crawled between the stalls.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching rapidly. Panic surged as I pressed myself against a stall wall, trying to become invisible in the shadows. Looking up, I saw two gang members, their eyes scanning the narrow space aggressively. I held my breath and prayed to every god I knew, hoping that they wouldn't spot me.
Of course, I wouldn't be that lucky.
One of them, a burly figure with a scar running down his cheek, grinned as he spotted me. "Ha! I knew I wasn't imagining things. There was someone here!" he barked, pointing directly at me.
My heart sank; I was trapped.
I felt a sharp sense of dread rush over me. I had no weapon, no way to defend myself. They were closing in fast, flashing malicious grins.
Just as I braced myself for the worst, a figure darted out from behind a stall on the far side of the marketplace. The figure moved with ferocity and precision, diving in a low sprint. For a split second, the smoke-filled air and the dim light made it impossible to identify my savior. He swung what looked like a crowbar with remarkable speed and accuracy, catching the gang member in front of me off guard. The metal connected with a dull thud, sending the thug reeling backward and stumbling.
I scrambled in his direction, shouting as I reared back for a soccer kick and aimed it directly at his groin. The gang member groaned, doubling over in pain as my foot connected solidly. It was a desperate move, but it bought us a precious moment. The mysterious figure flowed into my attack, pressing the advantage with another swing at his head, sending him crashing to the ground.
An ominous 'click' caused me to snap my attention behind me where I'd come. I only had a fraction of a second to realize the second gang member had drawn a knife before my savior charged forward in a blur.
The crowbar and the knife clashed, causing a sharp ring to echo through the alley. My heart raced, the scene unfolding like a nightmare. I could barely see through the smoke, but the noises were harrowing — the grunt of effort, the clink of metal, a pained gasp and hiss.
Suddenly, the figure staggered backward, clutching his arm, where a dark stain spread rapidly through his denim jacket. The gang member with the knife advanced, sensing victory.
"Like hell!" I shouted, my voice hoarse with fear and desperation as I scrambled for a can on the floor and hurled it, hitting him square between his eyes.
In that moment of distraction, the figure lunged forward with surprising agility in a two-handed swing, his crowbar connecting with the side of the gang member's head. The thug crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud.
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As the smoke cleared slightly, the identity of my rescuer became apparent. It was Alex, his usual stoic expression twisted in a grimace of pain and exertion. "Alex!" I cried out, relief and worry mingling in my voice.
He nodded curtly, his eyes scanning the area vigilantly. "We can't stay here," he said tersely, his voice strained.
"But your arm," I protested, glancing at the wound.
Alex shook his head, dismissing my concern. "It's fine. We need to move, now."
I respected Alex a lot, and although we didn't spend too much time together, he'd been more than good to me, and I was glad he was in the area. His short black hair was a disheveled mess, strands sticking out at odd angles, coated with sweat and grime. The sleeve of his denim jacket was torn at the sleeve, smeared with soot, and now stained with the fresh, dark blotch of blood from the knife wound on his arm. His face, normally calm and unreadable, was flushed from exertion, streaked with sweat and dirt, and contorted with pain, though he tried to hide it.
We moved with urgency, weaving through the chaos and destruction. Despite his injury, Alex kept a strong pace. I followed closely, my mind still reeling from the scenes of horror I'd witnessed. The air was thick with smoke and the stench of burning debris, making every breath a struggle.
A sudden piercing scream cut through the chaos, drawing our attention to a cluster of stalls that had been smashed by a pair of armored vans that had barreled through the marketplace. A group of four gang members had rounded up a group of seven children, terror etched on their faces as they were being herded toward one of the trucks. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of fear and anger coursing through me as I watched the scene unfolding before me.
I hesitated, my heart racing as I watched the scene unfold. The gang members were moving fast, grabbing the children and forcing them into the back of the van. I could see the terror in their eyes and hear their screams echoing through the smoke-filled air.
Shouts filled the air as two men charged at the gang members,weapons drawn. I recognized one of them as the stout man who'd tried to scam Mina yesterday. He was bellowing threats and curses as he swung a machete wildly. The other man, burly and with a wild look in his eyes, was charging forward at the gangsters with a piece of rebar in his hand.
Alex didn't hesitate, either. He charged forward with an intense focus, his grip tightening around the crowbar. The children were huddled together in fear, tears streaming down their faces as they were shoved roughly into the back of the van. I followed a few steps behind, my fear replaced by a wave of righteous anger. These gang members had no right to terrorize innocent children or anyone else.
The stout merchant swung his machete, his face twisted in rage as he charged at the gang members. Unfortunately, one of the gang members, a built man with stringy hair, met him head on punched him right in the jaw with a check left hook. The stout man fell to the ground, rolling to regain his balance. The burly man didn't fare any better, his rebar clattering to the ground as he took a knife to the armpit. Blood splattered on the pavement as he fell to his knees, clutching his wound.
Alex charged forward, his crowbar arcing down with brutal precision as he caught the gang member in the side of the head. The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious. The van's engine roared as the remaining gang members rushed to get inside and escape. Alex moved with impressive speed, his movements almost graceful despite the chaos around us.
"Rai-chan," I thought, reaching out to the symbiote as I trailed behind him. "Is there anything we can do?"
He leaped onto the van's side, gripping the door handle as the van lurched forward. I could see the tension in his body as he strained to hold on, his injured arm slipping slightly as he fought to keep his grip.
Her voice echoed in my head, cold and analytical. "An analysis indicates the model contains vulnerabilities that can be exploited to interfere with ignition and control to momentarily activate braking systems. Shall I proceed?" she asked.
"Do it!" I whispered harshly.
Rai-chan's presence in my mind intensified as she worked her magic. The HUD displayed lines of code and schematics, her digital influence reaching the van's systems.
The van's engine sputtered and died within moments, its lights flickering erratically. The gang members caught off guard, scrambled around, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Alex seized the opportunity, pulling open the van's door and yanking out the driver.
The driver hit the ground with a heavy thud, but there was no time to celebrate. Two more gang members piled out of the other van, their faces contorted with rage and surprise. Alex, his arm bleeding profusely, swung out, catching a man who tried to take him from behind on his kneecap.
Against my better judgment, I jumped into the fray screaming, my fists clenched, adrenaline pumping through my veins as I entered the fray and followed up on Alex's target with a jumping sidekick. The second gang member lunged at me with a jagged piece of metal, and I ducked, barely dodging the blade. I drove up with my legs and countered with a swift punch to his groin. The impact sent him staggering back, but another was already upon me from behind.
Alex, despite his injury, was a force to be reckoned with. He moved with a grim determination, his crowbar a blur as it connected with another attacker who broke off from the original four. The gang member's head snapped back, a spray of blood in the air, as he crumpled to the ground.
But they kept coming. Another gang member swung a chain, the metal links whistling. Alex deflected it with his crowbar, but the chain wrapped around his arm, pulling him off balance. The gang member pounced, driving Alex to his knees.
Time seemed to slow down as I saw another gang member with a jet-black mohawk raise a knife, aiming for Alex's exposed back. I dropped down into a drop shoulder throw, flinging the man who had put me into a sloppy headlock forward. I rushed forward and tackled the charging gangster to the ground with all of my meager body weight, knocking the knife from his hand. We rolled on the ground, trading blows, each hit fueled by desperation and fear.
I dimly noticed Alex, struggling against the chain, managed to free his arm. He swung his crowbar with a raw, primal scream, the metal connecting with another attacker's skull with a sickening crack. But the effort was too much. His face contorted with pain, and he staggered, his injured arm failing him.
The realization that we were losing hit me harder than the resounding punches from the man on top of me. The gang members were too many, too ruthless. The four of us here were outmatched and outgunned. I fought with every ounce of my strength, but it wasn't enough.
I struggled beneath my opponent's weight, trying to push him off. But he was too strong; his fists rained down on me, each blow a burst of pain. I numbly realized that he was wearing brass knuckles as I timed his punch and bucked my hips, slipping out from between his legs. I kicked my hips up, rolling him out as I sprung to my heels and immediately jumped on his back, sinking in a choke out of instinct.
I snapped my head up and quickly realized Alex was being overwhelmed. Three gang members swarmed him, their fists and boots bringing a relentless tide of violence as he tried desperately to back up and make space. He fought back with a fierce determination, but he was fading fast, his movements growing slower, more labored. I could only yelp in surprise as the man I was on flung me like a rag doll, sending me crashing on the pavement.
The van, its engine reviving, began to move again. I watched in horror as the van sped away, taking the children with it.
The gang members left us there, beaten and broken. I crawled to Alex's side, my own body screaming in pain. He was lying motionless, his breathing shallow, blood pooling around him.
"Alex," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. "Alex, hey, stay with me."
His eyes fluttered open, focusing on me with difficulty. "Ikki," he murmured, his voice a faint whisper. "Those kids..."
Tears welled in my eyes. All our efforts were for nothing. I could only curse my helplessness as I looked up to the sky with rage and despair burning in my heart. The stout stall merchant and the burly man, who had tried to help us, were lying on the ground not far from us, unconscious and bloody.
I saw more gangsters approaching, their eyes filled with malice, ready to finish what they started. My body ached with every movement, my hands trembling with both fear and exhaustion. We were cornered, vulnerable, and utterly defeated. Alex was barely conscious and could no longer stand much less fight.
I struggled to my knees. I couldn't give up — they were going to capture or kill us, or worse. I felt my heart pound in my chest as one of the gang members approached with a bundle of rope in hand. Alex's hand, slick with blood, reached out weakly, grasping for something, anything. But there was nothing. Only the acrid smoke and the relentless march of our captors.
Just then, the air around us seemed to crackle strangely. The gangsters stopped in their tracks, their faces wearing surprised expressions.
I felt my hair stand on end as a surge of energy coursed through my chest, which me a second wind. Just enough to stand back up.
A bright golden light streaked like a shooting star, descending rapidly toward me. The gang members paused, their malicious grins and sneers fading into confusion and fear as a figure rapidly approached us in the air.
It was a young girl draped in robes of deep emerald that flowed around her like the canopy of an ancient jungle. Intricate golden patterns adorned her attire, reminding me of stars dancing across the night sky. Her hair was a cascade of jade and gold that hovered around her like a celestial river, streaked with strands of silver that glinted like starlight.
The light of the flames caught in her locks, creating a halo effect that seemed to radiate a soft, otherworldly glow. Her feathered wings matched the emerald robes, giving the impression of a bird out of legend that was majestic and untamed. The wings flexed with a life of their own, every movement sending ripples of light cascading through the air. Around her wrists and ankles were alternating bands of polished obsidian, jade, and gold, gleaming darkly against her light brown skin.
She brandished something I'd best describe as a Chinese sword with a blade made of obsidian, which emitted a faint green aura. She landed gracefully in our midst, the ground beneath her barely disturbed by her presence. Her stance was poised, ready for action, yet a calmness about her belied the storm of her arrival.
A flamboyant headdress that seemed to come straight out of an Eastern fantasy novel crowned her head; it was covered in red cotinga feathers with a core of gold and jade shaped into a phoenix crown, shimmering with the same starlike quality as her robes. Her eyes were heterochromatic, one a brilliant emerald green and the other a deep, fiery gold, shimmering with an ethereal light that seemed to pierce through the chaos of the gang's attack.
For a moment, the entire road down the marketplace fell still, with only the hiss and roar of the flames from the nearby stalls breaking the silence. The gang members, who were so full of bravado seconds ago, now looked like a deer caught in the headlights. They seemed unsure whether to attack, flee, or simply stand frozen by the regal figure before them.
Her gaze swept over them, unwavering, a silent challenge that none of them dared to accept.
"I am Magical Girl Xitelalikui," she proclaimed. “Courtesy name: Stellaris Vortexia.”
Her voice resonated with an otherworldly echo that carried it down the streets, and her emerald robes billowed with golden constellations that seemed to move with a life of their own.
With a fluid, almost otherworldly grace, she stepped forward. She held her obsidian sword with effortless poise, reflecting the sunlight and casting a mesmerizing green light.
"Evil shall find no refuge under the gaze of the sun and stars," she proclaimed, before puffing her chest out and sweeping her gaze over the crowd surrounding us.
"For let it be known to all. This city... is now protected."