In the darkness lies coarse grains and pebbles embedded into the dirt surfaces, an appearance so natural and yet one absent of nature’s inherent beauty, for the material can only amplify the construct it composes, and that construct is the foundational definition of its allure.

Divots and craters expose a wilting foundation, shedding of the walls, degradation of a long neglect that tells of a slow deterioration. For corrosion was not a problem, as rather than the body losing its shine it instead loses itself in its entirety in a dragging decay, a crumble.

Above the earth and below the imprisoned in the Earth a white hand latches onto the surface, its wrinkly withered fingers clawing into the dirt, just slightly digging into the composite. Upon grasping the surface, it tightens its oppression, dragging pebbles and soils in, scraping with embedded trails breaking in the face.

A few moments later all the sudden the white hand relinquishes its tenacity, fully loosening its grip and lifting off the surface before dragging forward, deeper into the darkness, on ahead to grab again.

That hand reaches ahead, its wrist hung low, nearly grazing the dulled leather cuff of the sleeve that cloaks the entire arm in a natural darkness only brightened by the soft silver streak up the side just like the ones along the torso of the rest of the artifact.

Above the large leather collar which is accompanied by the black hood from behind, the juxtaposingly white face looms in the shadows, its few hairs of similar tones draped by its side, but standing apart are the sharp radiating azure eyes penetrating through the gloom.

Encased inside the tight shaft of dirt faces, the man pursues forward in a cautious crawl, not making a sound as he further treks deeper into the network, the exit not even visible from behind as a testament of the depth reached.

Behind the man crawls another being, who is similarly suited in black with even a slightly similar attire as it too features lapels, although the lapels of a professional blazer which beneath partly exposes a white shirt whereas the man wore another black piece below his own outerwear.

The being crawls forward too with metallic gold clawed fingers despite the rest of their hand and face being of a human tone. That tone, while visibly aged, is much riper and vivacious, with thick rich amber hair albeit at a shorter length over the head, bangs resting above the acute golden eyes, also remaining silent as can be.

In the duct the two crawl, however their forward motion however is of their own unique relativity, for the surface they crawl on is not a floor but rather a wall, as their crawl is rather a vertical climb.

Through the eyes of the lead, the end of the vertical shaft can be seen so close, only a few feet away. Just one white hand reaches forward, and as it grasps onto the wall and embeds itself into the dirt surface the next hand surpasses it whilst carrying the entire body forth in a repetitive yet necessarily slow motion.

Soon it reaches the peak, to which the man first plants both hands by the edge, not exactly over but directly under. He then meticulously peers over the edge, prepared for hostility, but only finding a horizontal shaft that continues ahead, connected to the vertical by a sharp rotation.

The shaft is also noticeably wider, but what is most intriguing is that far ahead in the shaft along the floor are multiple wide apertures over the whole surface all separated by chaotically variable lengths which bleed soft light into the vents, but not only light as it also bleeds in the sound of voice. The voices at first are muffled and incomprehensible, but their presence is telling enough.

With the coast otherwise clear, the lead pulls himself up and mantles over the ledge onto the flat duct. He then continues to crawl, now truly on flat ground, towards the light as the voices gradually become more distinct with uniquely pitched voices that distinguish multiple speakers of a familiar commanding man.

The wider ground did make for easier mobility, although especially with such near proximity to others, speed was inadvisable. Instead, chary movements were maintained, which still sufficed reaching the first gap.

Upon reaching the first rift of the duct, focus is brought down naturally through the opening, where a vast interior is exposed beyond a multilayered network of dirt beams and rafters crossing over one another in a rather desperate attempt to hold the building together.

Past those beams is the core of the facility, although divided by arrays of diversely sized racks which erratically store items some packaged in crates and others hanging around aimlessly. Still the aisles between the racks are wide and expansive, the most commodious straight down the clear center, and in the center of that central path is the paramount subject of the whole facility: the matte black pod stationed, every door open including the driver’s which reveals the female cyborg inside dressed in the sleeveless hoodie. Beside the pod is the man in the flashy leather bomber jacket, wearing the metal choker device as he strolls back and forth with his hands in his pocket, chuckling before speaking with words now perfectly clear to be: “Like to see you try.”

Within the vent, the Tempest studies with keen blue eyes, and beside him crawls up the Artificer, who is able to reside right next to him due to the greater width. She then too peers over the edge with interest, her eyebrow raising as she analyzes the interior.

While her expression is one of awe, the man beside her remains emotionally blank, instead in a strict tactical state of mind.

Further beyond the matte pod, all the way to the other end of the warehouse there are several doors with red energy barriers active, barriers that are opaque from its immense strength. They are spread across the warehouse, however one in particular is perfectly in line with the central aisle.

Closer to that end of the aisle, albeit spaced out freely amongst that half are the two other individuals, one of them being the man in the militaristic dark suit sported with the gus hat who leans more towards the center seemingly interacting with the man in the bomber. The other is further back by the red door by the aisle, dressed in the red and white varsity jacket which they have their hands pocketed in, their head bobbing from side to side which tosses their glamorous and distinct white hair as they observe the conversation in intrigue.

While the Artificer continues to gawk in marvel at the vast complexities of this small gang’s hideout, the Tempest nods to himself before suddenly throwing himself through the hole, a precipitous act that immediately snatches the Artificer’s attention with great fear and a dropped jaw.

Yet what firstly registered as an abrupt strike was debunked as the Tempest instead silently lands on one of the beams high up near the shaft, which from below is clearly marked as a box-shaped beam in of itself running along the flat ceiling, although a substantially wider beam compared to the rafters, gaps running down the entire shaft.

Furthermore, jutted across the ceiling are multifarious ventilation shafts all with unique rift placement, although it’s a result of disarray rather than intentional diversity.

Far more fastidious as very much warranted, the Tempest with bent legs gradually sneaks forth down the beam, perched high up in what is technically an exposed area, for there is no absolute layer between him and those below. Yet daringly he pursues on, his hands by his side, his head first down before he then turns his body to face backwards to the hole he emerged from.

Specifically the gaze is aimed at the Artificer, who catches the glance, and comprehending the priority of the mission’s success her gaze becomes stricter and more determined.

She nods her head before then methodically slipping through the rift too, although her legs morph gold and extend downwards first to latch onto the beam before pulling the rest of her body down with it, her body stretching and squashing inhumanly as her proportions revert, although her legs still golden with clawed toes that clench to the narrow beam.

Low with bent knees too, she gradually begins crawling towards her ally, who waits for her a few feet ahead while below the voice of the other man with a scruffier vocal retorts, “See me. Got no powers but these hands godly! Real!”

After confirming one ally’s positioning, the Tempest tightens his glare and turns forward once again, facing ahead down the warehouse.

Specifically, he faces past the woman to the red closed door on the other end of the central aisle, peering not just at it but through it while conducting his own silent task.

Out in the alleyway between the colossal cubic warehouses that cover the complex within the cavern, not inside the facility but neighboring its exterior dirt walls scurry both the Alchemist and the Vanguard side by side, sneakily leaping around the premise with peculiar movements made in a rather nugatory attempt at remaining unknown.

Along the wall are a few red doors passed every so often, all active, multiple of them although diversely distanced, disorderly. Each of the doors emit their own soft hums, audible residues of the mechanisms outdated for the majority of other civilized worlds, yet one of the most advanced artifacts this world clings to.

During the two’s stealthy slink, one of the doors they approach miraculously deactivates, the hum silencing and the doorway clearing out as the energy fades in an instant.

Immediately the two halt right by the doorway’s edge, the Alchemist the closest to the edge as he places his back right against it, guarding his ally who stands beside him anxious.

The Alchemist swiftly reaches into his overcoat and slips out his handgun, the small screen below the hammer emitting a gentle light over the wall that the weapon is held near as it’s held in a primed stance right beside the gunner’s head. Gripping the weapon with one hand and the other steadily remaining by his side, the Alchemist taps his foot silently thrice.

Upon the third, he then spins towards the doorway, aiming his weapon forth into the facility, prepared for the worst.

What is met instead with the Alchemist–who maintains a stern face– is a cramped room with a size similar to a walk-in closet, no more.

He steps deeper into the room, silently marching in while spontaneously turning to shift his aim at the various walls, although all that can be found are shelves oddly hoarding a considerable quantity of cans, stacked and filling the majority of the space, none of them given identifying features beyond their rusty metal bodies. None of them can even be told apart, although some of their bodies are bent and dented.

After studying the bizarre surplus of the tins, the Alchemist makes one final turn to the face of the room right before him from the start, to which both him and the Vanguard take notice of a single active red door before them in between more shelves containing the same compact coverage of cans.

The Vanguard strolls to her ally’s side to observe the red door as a muffled yet anxiously loud high-pitched voice jests, “Hah! Would surprise if could rob a corpse yourself. Not landing no cruck with me.”

Immediately the Alchemist aims his weapon at the door, and off of the Vanguard’s back pink electrical arcs spark in preparation.

Inside the primary room of the facility, past Bari’s shoulder, Haige throws his arms childishly, feuding “Hey shut yo speak! Gonna be sliggin heads. Hands gonna be registered weapons themself. Wait till we outta here,” while past the matte pod where Laiysa operates, Mavrik chuckles to himself whilst lounging leisurely.

On the other side of the pod, Mavrik shakes his head with a smirk, clearly enjoying the company of his comrades. He then glances at the driver’s seat of the stolen vehicle, where Laiysa sits leaning forward, her right hand placed over the dashboard firmly, the hand’s skin-like shell oddly retracted like a fin to reveal rusty gray components underneath.

Watching his friend work, Mavrik nonchalantly asks, “Ey Lai. How it go? No sprint.”

Initially zoned into the operation with her head nearly pressed against the dashboard, Laiysa immediately leans backwards upon the question, her hand still against the dashboard to keep her connected to the system, but her face and primary focus now fixed to the captain with an inquisitive expression.

She then graces a gentle smile before softly answering, “Not long no. Minutes most. Almost cracked. Probably should check all packed.”

A warm smile stretches across Mavrik’s face as he stands below the rafters high up where the silhouette looms ominously, and Mavrik nods his head before raising it back over the pod to relay, “Ey we nearly done! Check all packed. Gonna fulfill your dream Haige. Just about there!”

Across the pod, now standing closer to Bari and having been chatting with her quietly, Haige reorients his attention to the captain with a bright enthusiastic smile, and he nods his head before exclaiming ardent, “Packed and loaded! Can feel the surface air already! Almost not believing it happening! Feels like I dreaming!”

With a genuine beaming smile Mavrik watches back and nods reciprocally, visibly enchanted by his friend’s excitement for a new life right at their fingertips, a future for them to look forward to finally in their grasp.

He adds fervently, “Wonder the next morning we gonna wake up to. All I know is it gonna be one to remember! Today our life here ends. Tomorrow our new lives begin! Years of work but we just about accomplished our dream!”

Oddly then his smile softens as his face shifts from one of zealous to one of sentimentality. He gently lowers his head and places his right hand over his chest, over his heart, resting it against the mature leather hide of his jacket which wrinkles against the pressure, lively and reactive to the touch.

In a much more delicate tone nearly to a whisper, Mavrik nostalgically reflects, “We finally did it Boss. Just like you said we could….”

Initially engaged in the final sprints of the rewiring process with her head on the dashboard again, Laiysa takes note of the shift in tone, leaning back again and glancing over to Mavrik with a soft concern. Her hand remains synced with the pod’s board, but diverging from her task she opts instead to produce a heartfelt smile.

With a tender voice that speaks a verbal embrace, she assures profoundly: “He proud of you. Know he is.”

Still entrenched in the sentimentality of the moment, Mavrik raises his head up and lets his hand slip back down to his side before returning a kind smile back, grateful for his friend’s sweet words. He silently nods his head in respect as the silhouette flashes blue.

Back and forth over Mavrik’s shoulder, inside the pod Laiysa’s smile widens ever so slightly to the captain’s consolation, for she too had the eyes of pride shimmering stars.

She moves her head to return back to the pod to complete the final actions of the procedure, although in the turn of her head her focus wavers upwards, her interestedly tightened gaze just over the captain.

That tender face all the sudden shatters into horror with blown eyes, and in a fluster she cries desperately, “MAVRIK RU-,”

Just before Mavrik’s eyes, a bright blue ray beams down from above straight into Laiysa’s right arm, immediately yanking her out of the driver’s seat with such brutality that it rips her off the dashboard, her right hand held out straight for Mavrik, her upper shell still retracted.

Eyes in terror to the abrupt fracture, a magenta light flashes beneath Mavrik’s feet before thrusting him backwards in a leap away from the pod, just the exact instant before a being crashes straight into the ground where he once stood with the ferocity of an asteroid, the fractured rocks tossed in the air from below the silver feet of the Tempest whose azure eyes gleam and whose white locks wave violently between Mavrik and Laiysa.

Hunched over like some monstrous golem, the Tempest turns its head towards the captain, who just barely dashed from the pummel.

Through Mavrik’s eyes stands the Tempest, who glares at him with the wrath of a demon, his irises flaring blue like the cable originating from his closed fist which past the wavy wire is attached to Laiysa’s thrown body.

Staring straight back with trepidation written over his face, dread burning in his eyes and his jaw dropped, Mavrik watches in horror as just in the final moments of the liberation they had been intervened so intensely.

That same stare persists as Mavrik lands back on the ground several feet away from where the Tempest now stands, his feet skidding back about another foot more before he comes to a stop, panting and wheezing in an attempt to recollect himself to act accordingly.

After clearing the foremost flood in his mind, he then aims both of his hands at the Tempest, his eyes glaring ragefully as he shouts agitatedly, “Dammit! You again! Just about to fling! What you think you doing in my home?!”

His hands clawed veins popping from his shriveled skin yet his arms visibly jittering nervously, Mavrik holds his aim as in the far side of the warehouse both Haige and Bari notice the dilemma, immediately taking action too as Haige summons his pistol through his bracelet and takes aim while Bari assumes a defensive stance with gritted teeth primed to act.

Right behind the Tempest, Laiysa groggily stands up to her feet, disoriented from the yank especially from the detachment from the system. She places her hand on her head and shakes it to focus, and while still not entirely straight she does aim her right hand at the Tempest too, her hand’s shell slipping back onto her as from her forearm the cannon ejects, the barrel already aimed at the sole target.

Stanced to fight yet still with shaking arms, Mavrik grits his teeth before then condemning, “Think you gon break in an hurt my friends? Gotta get outta here but first I gotta set you straight for that!”

Aimed straight at the one target nonchalantly standing as the center of the aim of both Haige in the back and Laiysa point blank, Mavrik declares: “You a skullow thinkin you gon round two us. Nobody stopping us here. This our ground. We got you all points. Just try to move!”

Seemingly in compliance, the Tempest turns his whole body to face the captain, and he dispels the cable off Laiysa’s arm. Standing straight, he just glares back at Mavrik menacingly, for his expression does not tell of passivity.

At the back of the facility Bari and Haige maintain their tenacity on the intruder as the door right behind them suddenly deactivates, to which Haige miraculously discerns by the extinction of the hum, swiftly turning around as the two figures rush in.

Facing away from the first intruder as beside him Bari glances back in perplexion to her comrade’s misalignment, Haige’s eyes expand in dread as he refocuses his aim at the door and simultaneously places his free hand on Bari’s shoulder, impelling her to the side whilst shouting, “Bari move! More of them!” before then breaking into a sprint with her while laying suppressive fire of orange bolts at the direction of the Alchemist and Vanguard who charges in, firing a yellow radiating bolt which just barely misses the two.

Terrified at the sight of the sudden collapse, Mavrik freezes up watching his two comrades in the back flee from fire, his hands still aimed at the Tempest who is also focused on by Laiysa, who stands her ground with parted legs.

What returns the captain’s focus back before him is then the divebomb of a woman in a blazer whose single right leg is entirely golden with intricate designs of ridges in such way that appears plated, and that leg swings straight into the side of Laiysa’s head, suddenly driving her body straight into the nearby racks with a violent boom.

At last landing on the ground is the Artificer, whose leg reverts humanly back under the leggings covering the other leg. Her amber bangs wave as her golden eyes target the oppositional cyborg, and she then charges forward as both of her forearms morph gold.

At the center of the entropy only now aimed at by one individual stands the Tempest, who had throughout maintained his glare on the captain, not having at all been bothered by all those targeting him just prior.

His locks wave from the winds of the Artificer, dancing in front of his face before settling down, properly revealing his azure fiery scowl.

Watching before him as horrors beyond his own worst fears come to life, a tragedy unfathomable no matter the anxiety he had for what would be a tremendous success, Mavrik just stands frozen in place, the only one still directed at the initial intruder, his arms still shaking.

Frantically Mavrik glances around, first to the far end where the Alchemist and Vanguard charge towards the center through the main aisle, the Alchemist firing shots between openings within the racks while receiving fire from the other side, although the invaders effectively evade the shots and rapidly approach the pod, the engine of which is still left locked.

Then he glances to the other side into one of the aisles where Laiysa is thrown against the rack, causing packages and boxes to fly out and cause greater heap while the Artificer leaps up with both of her arms now conal grated cannons primed for fire, her body now being the closer to the pod as guard while the one who was first inside the vehicle itself is being further shunned away.

Ultimately, he then returns his gaze forward to the Tempest standing before him, between him and the pod, returning to his property with a deathly stare functioning more than enough as a declaration of battle.

Now the closest member of the gang to the pod, also the only yet to be begun engagement, it all centers on Mavrik, the pressure and the significance. His comrades were fighting for their lives, and now it’s all left to him.

With gritted teeth he irritatedly tsks, maintaining his stance and proclaiming with heavy words: “I will get my friends out of this world. I will free them from this hell.”

He then lowers his arms back to his side and broadens his shoulders, balling his hands into tight fists as he glares viscously, determinedly.

Suddenly the lights around his metal collar flash red, proceeding the injective hiss straight into his neck. His teeth clench even tighter and he growls from beneath as his eyes flicker red, his entire body momentarily jittering.

The lights on the collar return to green, and his body loosens after the pain subsides. He returns his glare back to the Tempest, his glare even more strict as he blazons:

“I will save them. Whatever it takes!”

At once Mavrik raises his open right hand at the Tempest, which projects a flurry of rays purple albeit in a strangely more bluish tone more akin to a deep lilac that also pulses inwards from the dissipated edge to the hand, which grabs to the Tempest yet also interestedly rather than repelling him as his abilities exhibited prior, instead the Tempest’s body is hauled towards him as he brings his arm back.

His hand then closes into a fist, and the rays decay outwardly, no longer regenerating themselves from the edge but rather closing back to the hand. In replacement however sprawl rays, this time magenta just as earlier in the heist, which curves outwards past the fist and wraps around the forearm like a gauntlet of wires.

He then throws the fist straight at the Tempest in an uppercut, and without even making contact with the rays themselves a potent force exerts on the Tempest’s body, propelling him up in the air as Mavrik follows through with his first strike.

While at first the unforeseen exhibition of the dual abilities has thrown the Tempest off his feet, before even landing back down he recenters his focus with two cables projected from his hips down to his target along with two long holographic blue blades extracting from his arms.

Together he’s reeled back down to the ground with the swing of his blades in a scissor motion of an intensity represented by the aggressive hum of the projections.

Right as the Tempest strikes the ground, magenta lights flash below Mavrik’s feet before propelling him in the air, helping him evade in the nick of time as once again another crater is made in the rocky floor by the landing.

Not even a second after the miss however the Tempest faces the Mavrik now drifting backwards in the air, and immediately he projects another two cables from his hips which pull him off the ground straight to the gang’s captain, to which said captain then holds his right arm to the side and projects another cluster of magenta rays which strafes his body to the side for another timely evasion.

The captain then quickly turns to face the aisle to his side before thrusting himself down it with more magenta bounces, leading to a pursuit as the Tempest follows without pause.

Down on the ground the Alchemist and Vanguard reach the pod as instructed, the Alchemist immediately taking point by holding aim in the direction of his contender while the Vanguard stands behind him, not as enthusiastic about engaging in lethal combat.

However, it only takes a few seconds for Haige to appear from behind a nearby aisle, firing straight for the two invaders who scatter to dodge the gunshots. Behind him rushes in Bari, quick to accompany her comrade against the assailants.

Exposed in the open with bolts firing at him, the Alchemist fires consecutive shots of diverse colors, yellows and purples, aimlessly trying to ward off the pursuers who have completely unobstructed sights to them, putting him in a dire situation.

Beside him and visibly frightened frit, the Vanguard throws her arms forward, following with a surge of pink electrical arcs emerging from her body all directed in the general area ahead her yet spreading out amongst her cone of view.

From behind the corner of the nearby aisle, Haige pops out and pops a few shots before slipping back behind the rack, using them as cover to protect himself from the exchange of radiating bolts fired from the opposition.

However, the crates sitting on the racks which compose the cover used are approached by the pink arcs which snap onto them before then hoisting them off the shelves in a hasty pace, thereby stripping Haige and Bari of their initial cover and causing them to panically strafe for another point.

In a chaotic cluster a horde of crates and packages are thrown towards the Vanguard and Alchemist, who even leap back to avoid a collision, although beyond the initial chaos the resultant is a heap of crates scattered amongst the center of the warehouse, creating barricades and thus cover for the both of them.

Instantly catching onto the tactical action taken out of primal fear yet executed masterfully, the Alchemist dashes behind the nearest pile of crates along with the Vanguard both of whom kneel down under it, allowing them to easily evade the triple burst of orange shots that fly right above him.

Now able to breathe for an extra moment, the Alchemist glances back to the matte pod right behind them, which luckily remains pristine, untouched. Such a vital artifact seated right in the center of the battle was undesirable, although it was also understood that it could not so easily be moved at the moment, as first the thieves would need to be defeated.

He then returns his gaze ahead where the Vanguard holds hers with a nervous expression, her irises now shining with arcs within, her abilities active and very much an asset although wielded rather clumsily.

The Alchemist taps a few times on his handgun’s screen before then standing up and firing another flurry of shots, these teal, hoping one can land.

Past the aisle further down where more crates obstruct exposure, Haige and Bari remain hidden from the cluster of teal bolts which soar right past them.

Haige tsks before exclaiming discontentedly, “Not a hit! Got an Ex! Who they?!”

Beside him, Bari sighs and shakes her head before then proposing, “Get me eyes on them. Can handle it.”

After firing another round with his pistol, Haige returns to cover before then throwing a perplexed gaze at Bari and asking, “How to do? They hiding back there. Not a shot and you want them open?”

Bari raises her head up to Haige with a smirk, and she playfully taunts, “Too hard? Thought you said you hands godly.”

While in the center of the disastrous battle, the short burst of banter seems to actually calm Haige a bit, causing him to also smile more collectively before nodding his head and asserting, “That they is! Follow behind!”

He then spins his pistol theatrically before rolling around the corner.

Out in the open, exposed without cover, Haige charges forth while rapidly firing shots out of his pistol with a fanatical grin on his face, bolstered with confidence.

Far ahead the Alchemist takes notice of the hail mary, which raises his eyebrow to the seemingly mindless act begging for death.

Taking the easy shot, the Alchemist stands up out of cover to take aim, which he does, primed to fire right on the fully exposed target who charges right in front of the shorter woman who just then sidesteps into view.

At that moment, the Vanguard’s eyes bolt wide open in terror to the revelation just as emerald electrical arcs begin emerging from the Alchemist’s chest and down towards the combatants.

Immediately the Vanguard leaps out of cover, also now vulnerable to attack, but desperately needing to take action before her ally would fall. She lunges her hand forwards as pink bolts erupt from her entire arm, bursting straight forwards in hasty speeds.

Those pink arcs travel instantaneously to their target before diverging out to wrap around the other shorter woman on the other side, coiling around her body which then freezes still with an alarmed expression complemented by a dropped jaw, completely shocked to the hidden power.

Just at that moment all of the emerald arcs just a few feet from Bari vanished into thin air, the process suspended and terminated just before she could claim the strength of the attacker.

Concurrently the two gunslingers perceive the act, the Alchemist realizing what nearly happened to himself and Haige noticing the frozen state of his friend.

In retaliation with an aggressive glare Haige aims straight at the one apparent cause of the state, and fires a constant hail of orange straight for the Vanguard, who is immediately tacked by the Alchemist in reaction, saving her but also simultaneously relinquishing the pink arcs thus freeing Bari who immediately staggers forwards before her gunslinging ally pulls her down under the nearest pile of crates to also use as cover.

Further from the center of the warehouse, Mavrik journeys in air, tubes of magenta rays emerging from his feet and pulsating down thus propelling him further in the air like boosts, pulsating every few seconds to deliver another push. With this form of movement he’s able to swiftly maneuver around the facility down a straight path as he searches with hasty head turns, checking every aisle he passes.

Most of the pairs of aisles passed are empty, of course with crates and items on the racks and the haywire at the middle of it all, but the true interest is nowhere to be seen.

That is until passing one of the aisles which leads to another without a clear path, but rather one with two figures standing down the far end.

Those figures are of the Artificer and Laiysa who are engaged in combat against one another, the Artificer on the offensive end as she slashes with hands transformed into long blades while reinforced by a garrison of tentacles that grab and retract, each of them armed with claws which open and close seemingly autonomously.

On the receiving end Laiysa continuously backs up, evading every slash and clashing against some of them with her arms which now both have extended mantis blades, which while does provide a shield they are still noticeably slimmer than the opposition’s who lays down a flurry to further push the hacker away.

Witnessing his comrade in need, Mavrik glares with vengeance and aims his hand to the corner of the right rack, projecting a lilac burst of rays which attract him down into the aisle like a wire, wrapping him around while maintaining his momentum in such way that after discarding the attractive rays he’s able to begin charging down the aisle with speed that only builds.

Pushed forth with quick magenta bursts, Mavrik shuts his right fist which is then reinforced by magenta rays that emerge from his arm and wrap around his hand like a gauntlet once again. He pulls his arm back, ready to lay the strike on the unsuspecting invader and free his friend of the oppressive barrage.

In the middle of the slashing, the Artificer takes note of the louding magnetic hum bursts, and she turns her head with intrigue, an eyebrow raised as her tentacles remain attacking at Laiysa to keep her in the fight.

Yet upon determining the source of the hum, the Artificer’s eyes expand with fear, knowing that now she was no longer the one in control.

One more burst away, Mavrik leaps at the Artificer with his fist ready to deliver a powerful strike, and to strengthen said strike he releases a battle cry fueled with determined passion to escape these intruders.

Zooming through the warehouse at speeds of a jet yet the precision of a cycle, making tight turns with blue cables that flicker and pull for just a moment enough to allow for slippage through minor openings on the racks, gaps between crates, it bolts through the facility at lightning speeds up and down to take advantage of every gap, the shortest path through meticulous means.

In the air Mavrik throws his fist forwards straight for the Artificer’s face right as through the low racks beside him the Tempest bolts into the aisle and projects two cables straight upwards used to thrust his legs up straight into Mavrik’s stomach whilst upside down.

Instantaneously Mavrik’s glare of retribution comes a gaze of agony, spitting out all the air within him.

Behind the Artificer who stares helplessly at the incoming assault with her tentacles still out, the Tempest who's completely flipped in the air drives the soles of his shoes straight into the captain.

Speechless, Laiysa stares at her friend with horror with a dropped jaw, her friend in the reflection of her metallic eyeball, whose body coils around the legs that struck him like lightning.

Proceeding a blinding blue flash of light from the exerted energy, the captain bolts straight upwards in a blue comet, crashing straight into the ceiling with a boom with such extreme force that a short shower of dirt sprinkles back down over the facility.

Off the ground the Tempest spins to reorient himself upright, two cables each emitting from his hand, suspending him above the ground. He glances up at the rafters where he dispelled the attacker before then turning back to face down where the two cyborgs stand, their battle paused as both just stare in disbelief at the abrupt sequence.

Focused particularly on the Artificer, the Tempest advises in a commanding yet equally consultative tone, “Keep all points on guard, it’s easy to get lost here. Remember the plan. Do you need any help, Dana?”

On the ground the Artificer blinks twice and shakes her head, snapping back into the moment to assure, “I should be fine, but I’ll call you if I need any Med- Rohan! Just uh yeah I’m fine!”

She then waves her hand nervously after the near mixup, almost having slipped after being used to using her friend’s true name.

The Tempest shakes his head to the clean save, and he raises his head up before concluding although in an echoey voice within the mind– without the movement of his voice–, “I’ll be listening,” before his body is then propelled straight up by the cables which throw him like a bungee jumper.

Down below the Artificer returns her focus back to her combatant after the short exchange, her blade hands reverting back to a humanly shape.

Back in the heat of battle, the Artificer observes as Laiysa takes a step back and raises her fists, the mantis blades retracting back into her arms before her knuckles then jut out just slightly, for she assumes a stance of a boxer.

Following the advice, the Artificer brings her arms over her chest in a cross before then thrashing them behind her whilst discharging all of her golden fingers somewhat uncomfortably.

Yet each of those detached golden fingers in their flight suddenly autonomously unravel themselves by long stretches of golden wire which launch outwards before then crawling in such way that they each begin to coil denser and denser into the shape of a human torso whilst on the shoulders and pelvis extend helixes of wireframe that develop all the way to the hands and feet as well as a neck that grows out a head.

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In only seconds all ten of the fingers develop into wireframes that become reinforced with repetitive strokes until they form solid shells, a hard body that then moves independently, landing on the ground and standing up straight.

All of the specters stand behind the Artificer, who stares straight at Laiysa as from each of the wounds in her hands miniature golden helixes extend out and coil into replacement fingers, regrowing her lost parts until they’re completely solid once more.

Hands fully regrown, they then close into fists still golden, and are raised up in preparation to engage in another round.

In awe and equal terror Laiysa grits her teeth and puts her foot back again, lowering her body. Knowing the enemy to be one who continuously revealed new tricks, she doesn’t wait any longer as she charges ahead with a shout, throwing her reinforced knuckled fist at the being who just grew ten other bodies before her eyes.

Meanwhile up in the rafters, the captain of the gang lays down with his back on one of the beams, coughing from the hard strike.

Without any further break, beside him soars the Tempest, who then arcs down into landing on one of the nearby beams, standing straight as his locks settle down, his eyes radiating azure like a monster.

Able to feel the Tempest’s presence without sight, Mavrik relieves one more cough before then climbing back on his feet, groaning as he slips his hand over his stomach to recover faster, albeit knowing there’d likely be more pain to come.

High up by the ceiling of the facility turned warzone, the two leaders stand on the beams above their comrades who battle and roar. Gunshots screech and metal clangs, all below the two who face one another, the man in the bright blue and the other in the fatigued black. One in the spirited bomber and another in the apathetic biker.

They stare at one another over the battlefield, surfing the tides that dictate their fate, their next morning.

In between all the beams both hanging flat like the ones they stand on but also those tilted to connect said beams to the ceiling at angles which attach by the shafts, the two remain silent in this pivotal moment as the hand drops down from the stomach, a minimal recovery made but a spirit revived.

Past the Tempest’s shoulder, Mavrik takes in a deep breath and pushes it out before muttering, “Break in my home. Right bout we gonna go. Think we gonna let you take it from us. Think we gonna let you take our dreams like that.”

One more breath in as he slowly raises his hands up, he proclaims: “You gonna wave the red flag. Think we not gonna chase. Thought wrong. Gonna get them outta here. Nothing gonna change that!”

Just then another injective hiss emits from his collar as he leans forward, the green lights flaring red like his eyes, his teeth clenched to suppress the pained growling as an unexpectedly great and dense cluster of lilac rays burst out of his chest which at the head spiral out and wrap organically in the shape of a clawed hand open to grab.

In a split moment a blue burst propels the Tempest in a hasty strafe that just barely saves him from the ray hand which then closes where he was in a strange animation as the target lands on another nearby beam, immediately turning to the rays with perturbation, not expecting such a quick and overwhelming strike.

In movements untamed the blue ray retracts straight back into Mavrik’s chest as he releases a pained cough before finally managing to straighten his posture to meet his startled opponent dead in the eye.

The red lights back to green as his eyes return to their natural tone, Mavrik clenches both of his fists which grow out another coil of magenta rays into another gauntlet, which is visibly denser and larger than the last, although still not as much as that claw.

Without being given more time for analysis, the Tempest is approached by an aggressive leap by Mavrik propelled by another magenta burst from the feet, to which the Tempest thrusts backwards in a blue burst which spins him around enough for him to reach his hand out and project a blue cable that reels him away from the pursuing captain.

Down the rafters and back into the chaotic battlefield, the two captains chase in the air, one of them traces blue wires and trails whilst the other emits magenta flashes and lilac rays.

At the head of the chase the Tempest soars down an aisle, his arm extended out but his body facing the other way where Mavrik follows close behind, able to keep up better.

Knowing pure speed is no longer a cheap advantage, the Tempest takes on more meticulous methods, launching a blue cable normal to his shoulder which pulls in a hard turn that throws his body into a spin straight through a narrow opening in the racks beside him, able to easily get to the next aisle.

For a moment the quick move saves him, but not before a bright magenta flash which proceeds a flurry of the crates stored on the racks being flung outwards, creating a wide opening albeit one made messily by Mavrik who then aims both hands down the new gap, projecting two lilac rays and pulls his arms back, catapulting him forth through the rack as new magenta rays form more gloves that is then thrown at the Tempest, who in a blue flash is spun backwards to face his opponent before raising his hand and projecting a blue wall which absorbs the double-fisted pummel, although strangely enough the blue walls ripple intensely like vibrations before then dispersing on their own, an abnormal effect triggered by a unique trait of the attacker.

Even now interpreting the inconvenient exploitation, the Tempest uses the moment of followthrough to barrel roll and burst down the aisle, making a quick escape which Mavrik immediately follows with more magenta boosts and lilac swings.

The two race to the center of the facility, dashing straight past the center where the gunshots flare as the Tempest reaches the opposite aisle before cunningly strafing through another opening in the racks to separate himself from Mavrik, who in a fit of rage suspends himself with a normalizing burst that gives him the center of focus to then throw a reinforced punch straight into the rack whilst letting out a bellow.

With even greater passion packed into the punch, even more crates are flung out of their racks, tossed aimlessly and even crashing into others of neighboring racks, starting a domino effect of mayhem.

Those plummeting crates crash straight into the ground by the clumps of other crates that are used as cover to conceal Haige and Bari, the latter of whom raises her head up to the hail and shrieks in a rant: “Hey! Watch yo poh! Got enough down here as is!”

She then huffs and shakes her head as Haige stands back up before unleashing a burst of orange bolts, which travel across the center of the facility, reaching their destination that being other bundles of packages as well as distant racks, and upon the impacts from behind one of those mounds stands up the Alchemist, who urgently exclaims “Kokei, run” before charging forward, gun ablazing with bright pink shots firing out of his weapon, laying suppressive fire to help him move as well as the Vanguard who follows from behind with pink arcs sparking off her nervous body.

Upon reaching another heap, the Alchemist dives down under the cover before swiftly deploying another burst to cover the Vanguard who hides beside him.

After the Vanguard makes her point, the Alchemist pauses the fire, but before he returns back under cover on the other side stands Bari, whose open right hand is held straight for him, a hand which attracts a group of green arcs of energy that grow out of the Alchemist’s body.

Quick to retaliate, the Vanguard telepathically calls out, “Wait Ekitai look out!”, stands up and aims her own hand around Bari, unleashing her own cluster of pink arcs, although rather than aimed directly at the wielder instead it’s aimed straight for the green stream.

Upon contact of the pink and green arcs, they snap aggressively almost like snakes, bolts tussling with each other in their own wrestling. Ultimately however the pink arcs push against before then coiling around the green arcs, which causes the siphoning arcs to flicker before vanishing, their own drainage drained and thus allowing the pink arcs to followingly disperse.

On the other end Bari staggers backwards with a squeal, her process again interrupted to which Haige grabs her and pulls her down under cover.

Up above the shootout the blue comet soars amongst the one mixed bleeds of purple, the two comets interweaving in clashes faster than what can be registered, which they continue down the other end into another set of aisles.

From the samely directional jousting, flashes of magenta propel more crates and boxes off of their respective racks, some of the racks even just slightly rocking from the forces.

More crates drop down from high above into the neighboring aisles, one of which the two cyborgs clash, Laiysa throwing punches at the Artificer who blocks each of them with golden arms, although with a consistent flurry the hacker manages to slowly creep towards the center.

That is however until she is forced to leap backwards to dodge a falling crate, which crashes into the earth, spilling rocks disorderly

More crates follow in the shower, some crushing the specters who were reinforcing the Artificer’s rear. Other specters as well as the host herself take notice of the collapse as more and more specters are crushed and destroyed. One of them glances up before then shoving the Artificer backwards with full force just before another group of crates drops straight where she just was, crushing that specter along with the rest, swelling dust from the dirt into the air as a brown haze, one that surrounds Artificer who survived the storm.

However, through the dispersing fog a bright scarlet light shines, a scarlet light emitting from the barrel of Laiysa’s arm cannon, aiming straight at the Artificer with clear range at the unsuspecting quarry whilst on the other end of the aisle the blue and purple streaks soar by.

In that split moment of passing the aisle, the Tempest turns his head over to the altercation, his shimmering eyes expand in concern.

Only a few feet from the red fist of Mavrik who’s right behind him, the Tempest unleashes a flurry of blue cables normal to his trajectory, straight for the aisle, resulting in a sharp turn that bolts his body down the aisle aided by a consistent blue residual trail of boosts, boosts that propel him all the way to the armed cyborg who upon hearing the distant whooshes turns her head just before her face is suddenly grabbed by the pale hand before the Tempest slams her straight into the ground at terminal velocity and surpassing her to the Artificer whom he grabs by the waist for the duration of the burst.

All the way down the aisle is where the Tempest comes to a stop, letting go of the Artificer now standing straight, having saved her at the nick of time and now focused back on the assailants with the turn of his body.

Back the other side where Laiysa lays on her back, down lands Mavrik who staggers forwards before kneeling down beside her. He studies her for a few seconds with his hand on her neck –horror in his eyes– before she releases a tired groan and raises her head, proving consciousness, to which her captain nods his head and stands back up to his feet.

He then starts to march forwards with heavy steps and a ferocious glare, and with a bold voice he condemns, “Keep hurting my friends. Keep getting in our way. Really asking for it now. Gonna straight scramble you. Not letting you touch them again!”

In his march the collar flashes red among the hissing of the injection, to which he immediately bends forwards and grabs the sides of his head, his eyes flaring again as he bellows through clenched teeth. On the other end of the aisle Artificer turns to face the gang captain concurrently as from behind the captain Laiysa rolls to her stomach with a petrified gaze. Then, a dense barrage of lilac rays burst out of his shoulder with an open clawed hand at the other end, and altogether the Artificer shoves the Tempest with her right hand as Laiysa reaches her hand out and exclaims: “Wait! Mavr-!,” before to him she suddenly vanishes as does the claw ray.

In fact, the entire battlefield silences abruptly, not a single shout, not a single gunshot, not a sound in the warehouse. Nothing. Strange, yet serene silence. For even down the other end of the aisle neither of the two intruders stood, rather they were gone entirely, ceased without a trace, without a whimper.

Perplexed by the sudden mute, Mavrik releases the grip on his head and leans upright. He gazes around at the empty aisle, the empty warehouse, his eyebrow raised without a word able to come from his mouth, just pure disoriented awe.

Yet in an echo, a familiar voice calls out to him. The words at first are incomprehensible, yet familiar to himself. With every passing echo they grow louder, and louder, clearer and more discernible as a word. As a name.

“Mavrik!” exclaims Laiysa, who all the sudden now stands right beside Mavrik, who blinks twice and shakes his head in bewilderment, his red irises dampening gradually back to his natural tone, the lights on his collar once again green with the back of his collar exhibiting another full supply of the teal enhancer.

Mavrik glances at Laiysa with the same disorientation whilst she harps, “Mavrik! You good! What happened??”

Perplexed, Mavrik tilts his head and curiously inquires, “What you mean?” in a visible daze, his eyes still blinking.

Laiysa points forward at the direction of the seemingly vanished opposition, which Mavrik trails with confuzzlement. He follows the point all the way down to the other end of the aisle, where the Tempest staggers backwards after the shove, facing straight at the Artificer who had taken his place, leaning forwards with her right arm held out in followthrough.

What was the most horrific of sights however was the Artificer’s right arm, which in a revolting display was entirely squeezed in, nearly as thin as a cable for her arm was seemingly crushed from nowhere, squeezed from all around. As though someone had grabbed it so tightly it was crushed like a can in its hands, the arm just extends limply, effectively destroyed.

Terrorized just the same as all the other three, Mavrik stares blankly at disbelief at the horrible compression, his jaw dropped.

Unable to even understand what is now before him, he softly asks, “Who did that? What did that?”

Beside the captain, Laiysa chillingly answers: “You,” to which he immediately glances with a gaze even more unnerved.

On the other side, the Tempest stabilizes himself before then asking out loud, “Are you fine?” to the ally who’s entire arm had been rendered into a string.

Despite the brutality done on her, the Artificer nods her head and assures, “Nothing too bad,” before almost terrifyingly her crushed arm just slips out of its socket, mutilated without a touch, collapsing to the floor and leaving an open wound.

To Laiysa’s astonishment, golden strands emerge out of the socket in dense packs, helixes that crawl in an almost liquid state, like slime, slithering in coils to form the wireframe of an arm. Not soon after the wireframe is then filled up from the inside to the shell, completely regenerating the arm seconds after loss with mechanisms that seemed far from simple robotics.

Acknowledging the swift recovery, the Tempest nods his head and proposes softly, “We should stick together, we’re not getting anywhere with them.”

Then with his mouth shut, he telepathically calls, “Ekitai, Kokei, how is your front?”

In the center of the facility, orange gunshots fly overhead as under a surplus of debris from the fallen crates the Alchemist and Vanguard stay low to the ground.

The Alchemist glances over to the side before responding through the channel, “Stuck at a standstill with these people. It’s not easy when there’s giant boxes falling out of the sky.”

Through the channel, the Tempest inquires: “Is the pod damaged?”

The Vanguard raises her eyebrow to the decision of focus whereas the Alchemist obliges in turning his head to the very middle of the warehouse where the pod resides, indeed intact without damage, in the eye of the storm: in the center of the mayhem yet unharmed, to which the Alchemist nods his head.

On the receiving end, the Tempest collects the report: “No, not a scratch. Although I can’t really tell because it’s black. But I think it’s fine. Probably fine.”

Now more concerned, the Tempest’s eyes contract to a glare as he mentally reprimands, “Probably?!?!”

“Look dus, it looks drivable. You better take care of it when we’re out of here though. I’m trying to close the distance with these people but they got a pretty good slinger on their side. God damn I really wish I had one of those crazy suits like yours right about now,” clarifies the Alchemist’s voice from the channel, to which the Tempest sighs and raises his head back up.

He then takes a few steps forward by the Artificer’s side, his locks waving in a brief breeze, his eyes still remaining keen with a glint over his irises.

Between the Tempest and Artificer stands Mavrik and Laiysa, both of them also having regained their focus after the strange conundrum, both of them glaring back.

On one side of the aisle stands the Tempest and Artificer, the pale man in the black leather biker and the mature woman in the black blazer.

On the other side of the aisle stands Mavrik and Laiysa, the gray man in the blue leather bomber and the adult woman in the dark hoodie.

Concurrently the Tempest storms ahead with a propulsive blue residual trail alongside the Artificer whose legs have been morphed golden which allows her to stride at greater distances while on the other end rush Mavrik being projected forth by magenta rays from his back beside Laiysa whose cybernetic legs naturally give her an advantage of speed.

All four of the fighters converge at the center of the aisle, the Tempest immediately taking aim with his hand shaped into the firearm which he fires a blue bolt with at Mavrik, who projects a stream of red rays with both hands which curve outwards, causing the bolt to get caught in the stream and be dragged out from the target and into the distant wall. Simultaneously the Artificer leaps off the ground and transforms one hand into her cannon which she fires a barrage of golden shots with at Laiysa who expertly slides right below her with an additional audible propulsion before standing back up and leaping off the ground to tackle the Artificer, who without even turning her body projects a tentacle that coils around Laiysa before throwing her back into the ground with force.

After swiftly getting back up, Laiysa extracts arm cannons from both arms and takes aim before rapidly firing a stream of scarlet shots point blank as tentacles emerge out of the Artificer with heads that breed a wall that absorbs the energy of the attack before then retracting back into the tentacles to give the necessary sight for her to tackle Laiysa to the ground whilst beside them the Tempest swings long projected blades repelled by Mavrik’s own magenta rods.

On the ground Laiysa groans as she struggles to break free of the stranglehold from the Artificer whose body protrudes more tentacles from her back which grab onto the dirt for additional tenacity.

Still visibly flabbergasted by the mechanisms, Laiysa through groans asks, “What…you? Thought you…cyborg. But no cyborg…like that. Exhuman?”

On top of the curious hacker, the Artificer shakes her head and explains, “Not an Exhuman no, you were right the first time. But I guess if you’re going off of the rudimentary mechanical framework of a traditional cyborg, maybe there’s a better term. I’m not made of traditional computer components, I developed my own artificial biology with cells of my own design which I’m made of, cells with capabilities engineered beyond the limitations of nature. Gotta find some way to compete with superhumans.”

Even more astounded by the earth-shattering explanation, Laiysa can only simply ask, “People above the surface. They like you?”

Whilst in the middle of a heated battle for life and death, escape or imprisonment, the Artificer can’t help but slow down in the moment of curiosity to the concept of a substantially grander universe, to which she only truthfully shakes her head and answers, “Some might be. Some aren’t. The Superverse is full of all kinds of people. Take it from me, you won’t find an easy paradise in any other worlds. That’s not how it works.”

All the sudden upon the passing of a shadow overhead, the Artificer’s back is grabbed by a blue cable before hoisting her up off the ground, which frees Laiysa seemingly randomly, although a monstrous magenta claw of rays reaches straight between them, where the Artificer had just been in certain danger.

Laiysa immediately turns her head to the source of the claw which then retracts back into the source, the source being Mavrik, who oddly gazes around blankly in the middle of battle, as though he were lost in a labyrinth of his own thoughts, just observing the environment amidst the critical moment through his red eyes just like his collar’s lights.

Away from the surface the Tempest boosts with the Artificer gripped by his cable which he then uses to toss her forward before detaching the cable and then strafing backwards, flinging the two in opposite directions to surround the pair on the ground.

Simultaneously a web of blue cables emerges from the Tempest’s back as do golden tentacles from the Artificer’s back, all of them grabbing onto the surrounding racks on each side of the aisle to close off any escape, both of them hovering over the gang as the captain’s eyes revert to their natural color as does his collar before he then shakes his head and glances to Laiysa with a perplexed expression.

He extends his hand out to her before projecting a series of lilac rays, although much thinner than the claw, which pulls her off of the floor and aids her to her feet before being relinquished, letting her stagger forwards and regain control.

On the ground and surrounded by the invasive web, Laiysa intuitively dashes to Mavrik and gets her back against his, the two slowly moving in circles to face the overwatch with their fists up. Whilst facing off against the aliens, Laiysa takes the time to concern, “Took another?! How many been??” before her knuckles reinforce.

Back against hers, Mavrik shakes his head and assures nonchalantly, “Got no worries. Just gotta drive them out. Still fine,” before his own fists are reinforced with magenta gauntlets noticeably denser and larger, surrounded yet maintaining control.

On the borders, the Tempest and Artificer glance at one another, wordlessly communicating their plans, just the expressions of their eyes sufficient as speech as the Artificer’s eyes expand and contract to the tactics proposed.

They then synchronously return their gazes to their two combatants on the ground, and together they fling themselves back into the battle.

On the rocks, Laiysa bobs to evade a downward punch from the Artificer who upon missing them projects two tentacles upwards which pull her to the opposite side whilst the Tempest and Mavrik exchange blows with fists blue and magenta before he too pulls up with his own cable.

Only a second later once Laiysa stands back up straight, she extracts her right mantis blade to counteract the Tempest’s projected scissor blade synchronously as Mavrik emits a wall of magenta rays curving outwards to dispel the Artificer’s noticeably larger fist, the two again pulling back up for another run.

That run follows soon in the form of the Tempest’s rapid barrage of punches accelerated with blue trails against Mavrik’s open magenta hands during Laiysa’s attempt to retaliate with her own cannon’s scarlet shot which is only deflected off a panel from the Artificer’s wrist which Laiysa swiftly evades, stumbling before stabilizing from the continual onslaught after the two pull back up.

Maintaining the borders between the aisles to keep the two confined in space, the Tempest and Artificer both follow run after run, diving at the two with a short exchange of blows before swapping positions on different sides of the aisles and then repeating, a recurrence that slowly drains the two trapped as their movements begin to slow.

Apparent especially up close, Laiysa stumbles from side to side before using her arms to block a triad of smaller fists from the Artificer’s right hand, the pummel shielded yet resulting in sparks chipping away at her armor, Mavrik’s rays too visibly wobbling unstably as he keeps up with the Tempest’s oppressive distanced jabs which project blue kinetic blasts that are just barely blocked, and before they could even recover from the last round another begins as the two have already swapped sides and dove.

Laiysa shakes her head and raises it to face the Tempest who bolts straight at her leg first, which she wards off by crossing her arms over her face, allowing him to bounce off ahead while Mavrik attempts to fire a cluster of rays at Artificer, which is only swiftly dodged midair and countered by a jab to the face by a golden spike that extrudes from her knuckles before retracting back.

Yet as the two on the ground circle again, they’re surprised to see that the run hadn’t quite concluded as the Tempest spins midair and aims both hands –fingers pointed forward– at Laiysa before flicking his wrists to fire a burst of blue bolts which she just barely manages to dodge, stumbling again which distresses Mavrik before he too is met by a rapidfire chain of tentacles all emerging from the Artificer’s wrists, repelled by an increasingly waverly magenta wall.

Tsking from the neverending salvo, Mavrik in a desperate panic to escape from this enclosure raises both hands each to one of the racks beside him before then projecting conal bursts of lilac rays which grab onto the racks, bringing Laiysa’s attention as she inquires nervously, “Huh? What you doing??”

“Getting a window,” boldly claims Mavrik before he then pulls his arms towards him, the rays pulsating from the far tails up stream to his hands.

At the borders and primed for another round, both the Tempest and Artificer are shocked to find the two racks beside them composing the walls of the aisles coming down onto them, causing all of the crates of said racks to hail down below the racks themselves. The two immediately break position, the Tempest bursting in weaves and cables and the Artificer pulling herself away with tentacles as her golden soles propel her with golden flashes.

Below the collapse, Mavrik grabs Laiysa’s wrist and bolts down the aisle with a stern determination as opposed to her disoriented fear, narrowly dodging the falling crates as above them the two invaders cross into distant aisles to evade the long, tall racks which crash right between them, swelling up in a dirt cloud that engulfs the whole aisle and others nearby.

By the core of the waretorn facility, the Alchemist hides behind a heap of crates, his gun’s cylinder exposed which he pulls empty flasks off of to toss aside while the Vanguard insistently glances back, waiting for another volley their way, the two right beside the matte pod.

Hastily the Alchemist grabs more flasks –from his overcoat’s inner pockets– filled with radiating liquids of varying hues and slots them into the gun’s chamber, reloading his weapon after the long gunfight. However upon pulling out the last flask to complete the reload which happens to house a bright green liquid, the Alchemist smirks and subtly denotes “Here we go,” before slotting it into the final hollow container before flicking his wrist to the side thus allowing the cylinder to retract back into the gun’s main body. Fully loaded, he stands straight up and aims his weapon at one of the many other piles that has smeared the home.

He fires a deep green bolt not over the pile but straight into the central crate, but upon the bolt’s contact, a green radioactive gel begins to consume the crate before spreading aggressively over the entire heap, covering nearby crates in the glowing gel as it eats up the metal like bacteria, causing the central crate to dissolve rapidly as does the others touched by the substance.

Just as calculated, from behind the melting stack emerge both Haige and Bari, who are forced to make a charge for the Alchemist, who then aims at both of them primed to fire just like Haige who aims at him, the two gunslingers coming head to head. Again Bari jumps in with the raise of her hand, siphoning emerald arcs out of the Alchemist’s chest to drain him, and again the Vanguard has no choice but to step in and project her own oppositional pink electricity straight at the head of the green arcs, which once again dismantle it but then beyond that they follow the same trail to Bari, although no longer in her favor as she covers her head with her hands, a terrified reaction that pushes Haige to aim his pistol at the Vanguard to which he pulls the trigger simultaneously as the Alchemist, orange and mint bolts flying towards each other.

The two bolts miraculously contact each other, to which the mint bolt suddenly erupts into a thick mint gel wall that clings to a few heaps as support, yet stands impressively on its own as a functional barrier that absorbs the remaining burst of fire Haige follows with.

Quick to still take advantage of this opening, the Alchemist hastily swipes through his gun’s interface below the hammer while the Vanguard turns backwards upon the sound of a stampede, her eyes widening as she hastily exclaims, “Ekitai!” who then turns to face the same direction with an equally interrupted yet intrigued expression.

Down the otherwise clear aisle leading to the center of the warehouse charges Mavrik and Laiysa, the leader glaring straight at the two intruders with a devilish flare as he grips Laiysa’s hand with one hand but with the other he aims it at the two and propels a burst of magenta rays to thrust them into their own wall.

Both the Alchemist’s and Vanguard’s eyes light up to the incoming assault interrupting their own battle, and as the ray heads crawl through the air towards the two unsuspecting aliens, from the corners the other two dive in each strung by cables and tentacles from their back, the Tempest grabbing the Alchemist and the Artificer grabbing the Vanguard before their wires reel them away, just barely saving the two before the rays strike the mint wall, which absorbs the rays impressively albeit not being the target in the first place.

On opposite ends of the wall, the Tempest and Artificer both synchronously land, both releasing the allies in their arms, who stand up on their own and glance to them before then around, their movements swift.

Now the aliens are the ones surrounded, as past one side of the wall Haige and Bari hold their hands up, each aiming at different sides of the walls, same with Mavrik and Laiysa on the other end, a diamond of trajectory, putting the invaders in a tight spot at last.

On one end, the Artificer glances back analytically while the Vanguard sways back and forth nervously, and on the other end the Tempest glares ahead aggressively while the Alchemist glances around inquisitively.

Despite the odds, the Tempest through the telepathic channel notes, “This position is good, we can take them from here,” peculiarly optimistically.

First to question that optimism is the Vanguard, who desperately queries, “What do you mean? They’re surrounding us, what are we supposed to do?? Are we looking at the same thing??!!”

Fully calm and calculated, the Tempest maintains his keen observation of the four around him, the four all of whom have aim omnidirectionally. He then proposes in an assertive tone, “I need all of you on ear, we’ll likely only be able to get this once. When we move, I need Kokei to make a break to our side, Ekitai and I will cover from both sides, we’ll be out in the open but we only need to engage for a few seconds. Dana, get in the air. Okay, move,” before he then suddenly spins and aims his hands forward before rapidly firing bolts from his fingertips while the Alchemist hastily goes the other way and starts firing on the other end also rapidly.

Following the orders, the Artificer launches herself in the air with thrusters from her soles while bewildered and terrified the Vanguard sprints around the wall, pink arcs thrashing out of her body defensively.

While having clear shots at the daring invaders, Mavrik and Laiysa are unable to stand ground for attack, but rather they evade and strafe from the rapidfire from the Tempest, trying to aim themselves but are hard pressed; Mavrik maintains repulsive shields to help cover Laiysa who fires scarlet shots from her arm cannon yet unable to line any shots to be remotely accurate as she struggles to find a window to even peek out due to the intensity of the oppositional fire.

On the opposite side, Haige and Bari scatter as Haige aimlessly fires back, and Bari repetitively attempts extraction with her hand held out to the Alchemist, able to attract emerald arcs off the body but unable to bring it all the way to her, instead having to abandon those threads and try again only to run into the same issue, for neither of them had suspected such a bold move that bordered on suicidal bravado.

Soaring up high in the air, the Artificer comes to a stop, her limbs all golden as are her eyes, the wind brushing against her bangs as she gazes down suspended in air by her own stabilizers, letting her watch the chaos unravel on both fronts, one of them where the Vanguard reaches the other side and remains between the two shooters.

Over the channel, the Artificer receives the Tempest’s inquiry: “In position, Dana?”

The Artificer nods her head and swiftly reports back, “I am, what’s the plan?” with an eager tone.

While down below the Tempest maintains fire on Mavrik and Laiysa as they try to find an opening to retaliate, he orders: “I need a calculated bombardment, get them all scattered by themselves somewhere open. Once they do, I'll need Kokei to freeze them up for a few seconds. Ekitai, you have that adhesive solution, I don’t think it was harmless but I need you to get that in the chamber, something that’ll stick for an hour or two. Go.”

Given the order, the Artificer closes her eyes, and on her shoulders grow extensions extruded from her golden shell like melted gold, although instead of only sitting on her shoulder instead the cannons wrap around her in the shape of heavy pauldrons, curved outwards and extending from her neck down to her elbows.

Along the pauldrons both, the surface is grated similarly to the conal cannon, although each aperture is substantially larger than the cannon as the frame is also thicker, providing somewhat of a grander variant to the arm cannon.

What is also grander is the output, as from the grates beams an immense barrage of bright golden missiles that project with golden trails, all firing in various angles from the pauldron cannons, all shrieking as they soar autonomously before arcing downwards.

In a great hail the bombardment plummets together, a myriad of golden missiles diving straight down all with trails of their own, their squeals functioning as sirens to the incoming mayhem.

Those sirens reach Mavrik and Laiysa as well as the Tempest, all of whom freeze to stare up, to which Mavrik and Laiysa both are visibly struck by terror before frantically scattering away.

On the other side, Haige knocks Bari’s shoulder upon noticing the hail, and the two are also horrified and run away, losing concentration from their battles as up above the bombardment approaches, missiles densely packed together all but for only five clear circles, one being in the center where the wall and intruders are.

Around the Tempest, Vanguard, and Alchemist, the missiles strike the ground and emit minor explosions of golden energy, strong enough to leave craters in the ground but with constricted radial effects. None of the missiles strike near them, for instead they safely watch the chaos ensue as the bombardment continues persistently, which also doesn’t impact the pod as it’s safe within the void space.

In front of them, Mavrik and Laiysa manage to each find their positions safe from the explosions, trapped in a circle of constant fire but having found void spots in the bombardment where they can stand safely and wait out the fire, their only solution to such a sudden dilemma.

The Tempest turns around to survey the other side where Haige and Bari have also clung to their own void spots, not large enough for them to clump together, but just enough to keep them safe from the explosions that eat away at the ground.

At last the bombardment concludes, allowing the four residents to take a deep breath of relief, but not before the Vanguard steps forth and glances from side to side at the two groups as flurries of pink electricity grow out of her body and zip to the four.

Without even being able to comprehend the first volley, all four of the residents are chained up by swirls of pink arcs all emitting from the central source that being the Vanguard, who observes both sides persistently to maintain her control.

None of the four manage to move, growling and groaning tirelessly in an effort to move even a muscle, yet none gives. For whereas they were at first trapped by the bombings, now they had been trapped again in open space, the pink electricity unwavering as they stream out of the Vanguard’s body, sparking off her and crawling to reinforce dying arcs.

In front of her suddenly leaps the Tempest with a launch that nearly rumbles the earth, leaving a blue cloud of dust that blows the Vanguard’s pink hair backwards.

Rising up in the sky, the Tempest soars from the leap, first facing the ceiling with his back turned to the surface where the four opponents are frozen. His eyes flare up as he stretches his arms, both sides laid down, and projects two cables from each open pale hand, which dives straight back down into the far surface.

Unable to move, the four are forced to watch as each of their bodies are grabbed by one of the cables, for only their eyes are able to move to the cables mostly on their chests, the greatest reactions permitted to them being the exhibition of fear on their faces.

Slowing down, the Tempest reaches the peak of his launch, but he has already set what was needed. With a stern pair of eyes ready to see this mission to the end, he jerks both arms over himself, causing all four of the combatants to be hoisted off the ground by their chests, flailing helplessly as the Tempest descends back down.

The forced movements however detangle the combatants from the pink arcs, which free them from the frozen state, although that hardly changes their situation as all they can do is shriek helplessly, the next phase already in motion.

In his descent, the Tempest spins by a burst that reorients him towards one of the racks, and groaning through clenched teeth he throws his arms forward, causing the cables to in turn thrash and wave, pushed into that direction.

Down the cables all the way to the other end, all four of the opponents are abruptly flung backwards, slamming straight into the face of one of the racks, their bodies striking the metal beams before falling onto the ground, all of them shoulder to shoulder now, groggy and groaning from the throw.

Before then lands the Tempest straight down, a cloud of dust erupting beneath his feet before quickly dispersing, and he turns to the Alchemist and nods his head, to which the Alchemist then turns towards the four against the racks and aims his gun at the center where Mavrik and Haige are side by side.

With one simple shot, the Alchemist fires a blue bolt at them which upon impact combusts into a great blue slime that spreads over all four of their torsos and legs, to the ground, locking them in place with their hands restrained.

They wrestle and growl in desperation to break out, yet the slime’s hold is strangely resilient, able to maintain a powerful tenacity over all four of them perfectly.

After taking one quick observation at the effect, the Alchemist nods his head and confirms, “Yep, that’ll give us about…a hundred minutes I’d say. They won’t be affected by it long term either, well I mean unless they try to eat it I suppose, but hey did you expect this stuff to be nontoxic or something?”

Beside him the Tempest nods his head also facing the gang and appreciates, “Good enough, that’s more than what we need,” as behind him graciously lands the Artificer as the pauldrons on her shoulders melt down into her body, vanishing swiftly below the black blazer’s sleeves.

Upon hearing the entrance, the Tempest turns around to face the Artificer, and now relieved at the success of the task, he compliments: “That went well, the chain, the chain went well,” although the compliment was noticeably awkward as though he had trouble expressing the gratitude.

Digressing from the strange attempt, he shakes his head to move on, turning his gaze to the pod, which ironically after all the destruction and chaos remained untouched, completely spotless, not a dent.

Blue light flashes from the Tempest’s eyes, and after the brief investigation is conducted, he nods his head and reports, “Nothing is damaged, and just as planned, the systems aren’t hotwired. I’ll get the system up and running and have any process be erased, just give me a second and we can get out of here.”

The Alchemist, Vanguard, and Artificer watch him take a step towards the pod to begin the process for them to depart, all of them sharing relief after the turbulent fetch quest, finally able to be done with this long and toilsome day.

Yet as the Tempest prepares to slip into the driver’s seat where the hacker had failed to complete her task, he’s interrupted by a familiar hissing from behind, although a hissing that extends longer than what he’s used to, no, a hissing that is repeated constantly.

His pupils shrivel as his heart nearly freezes, and he turns around to where the rest of his allies are now facing, the source of the hiss: the restrained group but more specifically the captain in the center, even more definitely the collar around his neck, which flickers from red to green constantly almost like it were jamming out, yet it was working as intended.

Nearly as loud as the hiss is heavy breathing coming from the same man, whose irises flicker from his natural hue to red and back.

Beside him lays Laiysa defeated, and with fatigue she turns her head towards the source of the sound to which her eyes expand in terror as do the eyes of the other two gangsters, who all stare at their leader with immense horror.

Desperately Laiysa attempts to pull herself to Mavrik, yet the restraints of the smile hold her in place, causing her head to bang into the rack beams to which she groans. She then shakes her head to rid the pain before exclaiming, “Wait! Mavrik! What you doing?? Mavrik that too much! Can not handle that much! Gotta lay off!”

Finally, Mavrik obliges, making one final injection before stopping at last, allowing the collar’s indication light to return to green without changing it. However, his irises remain red, and his breathing remains heavy, breathing which clouds his murmurs: “I…will…save…you.”

A dread begins to sweep the Tempest as he takes another step forwards, in front of his allies who all show disturbance in their faces–the greatest being the Artificer’s– the Tempest’s stare tightening keenly.

Staring blankly with red eyes, Mavrik repeats again in murmurs: “I…will get us…out…. I…promised….”

A foreboding sensation crawls over the Tempest, who takes another step forward and raises his right arm, his fingers forward shaped to fire.

Immediately the Tempest aims his hand straight at the gang captain, now glaring entirely sternly, so much so that even the Vanguard and Alchemist stagger back in surprise to his sudden haste even after subduing the thieves to a state that he seemed content with.

Clung by the slime, Haige, Laiysa, and Bari all take note of the aim, and they perilously attempt to wiggle their bodies to escape, yet again they’re unable to move even an inch.

In a sharp glare that could effortlessly slice steel, the Tempest focuses straight on the captain, aimed straight for the head in silence, not speaking a word as he seems to contradict his own strictness about the lengths of neutralization.

On the ground, Mavrik breathes heavily in and out, his red eyes beginning to twitching, his head just slightly shaking, as he in an almost ominous tone assures: “I will…take us to the surface…I will…take us far far away….”

Out of nowhere, entirely needless, entirely uncalled for, the Tempest adjusts his aim and flicks his wrist, projecting a single blue bolt straight for the neutralized man, a decision that further shocks the Vanguard although the Artificer oddly has the same haunted fixation that the Tempest does, if not even with more dread.

But with that shot, it would all be over.

That blue bolt soars straight for Mavrik’s head as his three allies turn away and squeeze their eyes in terror to the devilish action, as the bolt travels straight to the forehead of their captain until freezing inches away from contact.

The abrupt suspension startles the group of invaders, repelling back the Vanguard and Alchemist the latter of whom raises his own gun defensively too, and while the Artificer remains frozen, the Tempest takes an action that’s nearly unreasonable, immaturely desperate, shocking for a man of his composure.

The Tempest steps forward, and fires a consecutive rapid three bolt burst at the same man, every shot booming with an echo that waves through the whole of the otherwise silent warehouse, every shot flashing a bright light from the finger, and yet every shot coming just a few inches short before being suspended.

That is when the Tempest’s fierce glare suddenly collapses into a horrified stare, his eyes expanding and his mouth opening to gasp.

In front of the four frozen blue bolts of energy each with the great strength capable of rendering a man unconscious, the captain sits against the rack with his body covered by the slime, and yet even unable to move, a cluster of rays curves from his nape to the bolts, a cluster composed both of magenta and lilac rays, a balance that results in a total suspension.

The three other thieves turn around and open their eyes upon the intriguing sound of the bolt’s hum, and upon taking the sight of their captain, all of their eyes expand more with dropped jaws, lost for words in ways beyond their abilities to explain, but the visible terror enough shows their concern for their captain.

In the center of the group, the captain remains restrained in front of the four bolts and doesn’t even face them but rather just blankly down at an angle, breathing heavily.

But then, the breathing stops.

And he murmurs once more, this murmur the most haunting of the rest.

“I…will free us…from this world….”

Stuck on the ground with his teammates, sitting in front of the four invaders who loom over them, the constrained captain finally raises his head up to meet the oppressors.

Even being restrained by the slime, even being shot at multiple times, still surrounded by the aggressive assailants, Mavrik effortlessly repels all four of the blue bolts back at the oppressors, he watches all four of those bolts hit their targets, and he watches all four of the oppressors close their eyes and collapse to the floor in instant defeat.