"Well," Sun said, drawing the runed blade, "my name really is spreading."
Dust still hung in the private gallery like gray fog.
Broken marble slabs littered the floor. Rich drapes smoldered where shattered lamps had fallen. Below, the auction chamber erupted into screams, shouts, and the stampede rhythm of expensive people discovering mortality.
The three masked intruders stepped through the ruined wall in practiced formation.
Dark leather armor.
Hooked chain weapons coiled at their hips.
No insignia.
Which usually meant either elite professionals or cowards with tailoring budgets.
The leader pointed once more at the cage.
"Retrieve the Moonfang."
Second masked man pointed at Sun.
"Kill the bidder."
Third pointed at the black plate.
"Oh… and take that too."
Sun nodded appreciatively.
"Clear priorities."
Brin was already moving.
Captain Brin did not draw her sword dramatically. She simply appeared in front of the second attacker and punched him in the throat hard enough to reset philosophy.
He gagged backward.
Then she drew steel.
"Mine," she said.
Samira stepped aside from the tea table with perfect composure, lifting her skirts just enough to avoid blood.
"Please don't stain the ledgers."
Varen looked mildly pleased.
"You're adapting well."
"This is not adaptation," Sun said. "This is my life collapsing into genre."
The leader lunged for the cage.
Sun met him halfway.
Chain lashed out first—hooked blade whipping toward Sun's face.
He used Wolf Step.
Blur.
The hook cut empty air.
Sun reappeared inside the man's guard and slashed low.
The runed blade bit through leather and thigh.
The attacker hissed, staggered, then snapped the chain backward with brutal skill.
The returning hook tore across Sun's sleeve and carved a shallow line into his forearm.
Hot blood.
Sun's eyes narrowed.
"Rude."
To the left, Brin and the second intruder became a storm of steel and profanity.
She fought like an angry carpenter—direct, efficient, committed to structural damage.
He fought fast.
She fought mean.
Mean was winning.
The man slashed for her ribs.
Brin caught his wrist, headbutted him square in the mask, then drove her sword through his boot into the floorboards.
He screamed.
She leaned close.
"Stay."
Then kicked him backward out of the pinned boot.
The third attacker vaulted the tea table toward the black plate.
Samira sighed.
"You break one table and suddenly everyone's ambitious."
She flicked her wrist.
A tiny knife appeared from nowhere and buried itself in the man's hand just as he reached for the plate.
He yelped.
Sun blinked.
"You carry knives?"
"I carry standards."
The man snarled and charged her one-handed.
Varen moved at last.
One finger touched the attacker's forehead.
The man froze mid-step.
Then slowly folded unconscious like laundry losing faith.
Sun stared.
"What did you do?"
"Encouraged sleep."
"I hate how vague your power is."
The leader had reached the cage.
He jammed a hooked key into the chain lock.
The Moonfang girl crouched motionless, eyes silver and cold.
Sun shouted, "Don't help him!"
The leader turned just enough to sneer behind the mask.
"She belongs to us."
The girl moved.
Not outward.
Downward.
She slipped between her own chains like water through reeds, drove both hands through the bars, and seized the man's wrist.
Crunch.
He screamed.
She yanked him face-first into the iron cage bars hard enough to bend nose and dignity.
Then she tore the key free with her teeth.
Brin laughed loudly.
"I like her."
Sun did too.
The leader staggered back clutching his ruined hand.
Sun closed the distance and punched him in the mask.
The mask cracked.
He stumbled into the broken wall opening.
Sun kicked him through it.
The man vanished over the edge into the auction chamber below.
A heartbeat later came a crash, then someone shouting:
"Is this lot included?"
The chamber below was full chaos now.
Guests fled.
Guards rushed in.
Some spectators remained seated because disaster was free entertainment.
Lucan Teryn stood in the neighboring box screaming for someone to protect his hair.
Sun leaned over the divider.
"No refunds!"
Lucan pointed wildly.
"You did this!"
"Yes," said Sun, "I personally hired masked criminals to improve your afternoon."
The Moonfang girl emerged from the cage slowly.
Chains still hung from wrists and ankles, but loose now.
She stood lightly despite obvious malnourishment.
Up close she was smaller than she'd seemed—lean, scarred, all sharp edges and survival.
Her eyes moved from Brin… to Samira… to Varen…
Then settled on Sun.
"You bid too much."
Sun touched the cut on his cheek she'd given him.
"You scratched me first."
"Fair trade."
Her voice was rough but steady.
Brin cut the remaining chains with one clean stroke.
"You got a name, cub?"
The girl hesitated.
Then: "Nyra."
Samira was already gathering papers.
"We are leaving immediately."
Sensibly, another crash shook the building.
Not sensible.
Everyone paused.
From below came shouting.
Then screams.
Then the sound of something large hitting stone.
Varen's expression sharpened.
"The leader was bait."
Sun turned.
"For what?"
The floor beneath the gallery cracked upward.
Marble exploded.
A massive hooked chain punched through from below like a spear, wrapped around the cage remains, and ripped them downward.
The entire platform lurched.
Guests shrieked.
Brin swore creatively.
A giant figure rose through the shattered floor from the level beneath.
Seven feet tall.
Bare arms scarred with burn marks.
Iron mask horned at the brow.
Both hands wrapped in chains thicker than wrists.
He looked at Nyra.
Then at Sun.
Then at the black plate.
"Retrieve all three," he rumbled.
Sun sighed.
"Why am I bundled with artifacts now?"
Nyra bared her fangs.
Brin grinned like payday.
Samira pinched the bridge of her nose.
Varen smiled faintly.
And the giant swung his chain.
To be continued...