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Katya and Mia burst from the staff room in a blaze of motion, the metallic slam of the heavy door echoing behind them. The corridor was wide but felt claustrophobic with the pressure of what awaited—a blue-skinned horde, a gauntlet of death incarnate. Both girls had felt fear before, but now there was only the hungry pull of adrenaline, the awareness that every sense, every muscle, must be tuned for survival and supremacy.
Ahead, the Mauler Twins moved in clusters, their guns gleaming and grins wider than wounds. The floor itself seemed to vibrate with their anticipation.
"Hahahahahahaha... You can't be serious," one of the Mauler Twins said, tossing his gun to the ground with a clatter, the sound oddly cheerful. "These two will have to do. But I'm going first. I'm not getting anyone's sloppy seconds."
"I need me some of that Viltrumite pussy," another said, his tongue flicking across his teeth.
'More like halfblood pussy.' Katya thought with a smirk on her face as if messing around with the rough and crude nature of the Mauler twins. Although they could be rough around the edges, their intellect was their strongest suit. Something their fallen adversaries had underestimated to their end.
"Some Vussy, hehehe," snickered a third. The blue-skinned clones jeered, but their eyes never left the girls' forms—lust and murder twinned in those predator stares.
Yet, the Maulers were no fools. They had fought their own Mark Graysons, lost limbs and brothers and sisters and pride to Viltrumite might, but they'd learned. Their jeers weren't just bravado—they were weapons, attempts to needle at Katya and Mia, to push them off their game, to make them reckless and predictable. Basic psychological warfare that most halfbloods are already aware of if they paid any attention to Anissa's classes. The Maulers, after all, weren't all brawn and were scientists in their own right.
Behind the Maulers, the Immortals watched with their usual contempt. One, his cape bloodied, stepped forward. "You vile fiends! If not for the promise of eradicating the Viltrumite devils, I wouldn't be seen working with the likes of you."
'This is why I don't work with heroes,' one Mauler thought, rolling his eyes. But the groundwork for psychological warfare was crumbling fast—infighting broke the tension and let the girls steady themselves.
Mia, hair wild and eyes blazing, leaned into Katya's shoulder. "Unbelievable, Katya. They actually tried that 'emotional manipulation' trick. Who knew class would come in handy so fast?"
Katya nodded, lips tight, her mind already racing. The odds weren't just bad—they were suicidal. A hundred blue-skinned Maulers and twenty Immortals, any one of which could snap a normal human in half, all waiting for a mistake. But that was the point. This was about surviving—and, if they played it right, getting stronger. No one here cared about rules or fairness, only power and pleasure and pain.
Her thoughts flashed to her parents—memories of a dying homeworld, shattered by Viltrumite might. She pushed the pain away. If she and Mia made it through this, if they won, they could climb to heights no one could imagine. If they kept getting stronger in silence, maybe, just maybe, they could finally avenger their home worlds.
A ripple of anticipation passed through the Mauler ranks. "Ahh... here we go again," a Mauler sighed.
Then the girls moved in that moment of distraction among the invaders. Mia and Katya shot forward, breaking through the Mauler line. Their bodies moved like dancers—sinuous and fierce. They slammed into blue flesh, knocking down a half dozen Maulers, the air whistling with the speed of their passage. They weren't strong enough to paste the Maulers, not yet, but their blows left bruises and their speed left confusion.
Blaster fire erupted as the Maulers tried to corral them, but Mia and Katya slipped through, never pausing, always moving. The way their shots missed one would almost mistake them for a famous army trooper in white and black armour known for never hitting their targets. They took up a back-to-back stance, their eyes darted, and their muscles coiled.
Katya's eyes met Mia's—shared understanding. They'd drilled this before, countless times. When you're outnumbered, never let them surround you in the training room. Hit, move, hit again. Back each other, and never give them your back.
Mia darted forward, driving a fist into a Mauler's jaw, feeling cartilage crunch beneath her knuckles. She spun, ducked, and drove a knee into another's gut. But for every Mauler she dropped, two more surged in.
A Mauler's massive hand snaked out, grabbing Mia's ponytail, yanking her back. She twisted, drove an elbow into his face, sending blood arcing. But the Maulers adapted, moving as one, swarming her. One landed a punch to her ribs, and another slammed a knee into her thigh. Mia fought, but the tide was too strong. Her fists began to slow, her breath burning in her lungs. She didn't have even have the time to cough up blood as it spilt at the sides of her mouth.
She tried to fly up, breaking the press—her body launched into the air, blue hands clawing at her calves. She almost made it, but an Immortal grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her down like she weighed nothing.
The Immortal twisted her arm, locking it behind her back, and drove her face-first into the floor. Maulers circled, kicking and stomping, fists and boots pounding her back and legs. Mia struggled, but with her arm pinned, she was at their mercy. A Mauler spat on her, sneering.
"Stay down, Viltrumite whore," he snarled, pressing a boot to her head. Blood dripped from her split lip as she looked up, defiance still burning in her eyes.
Katya was faring better. Much better that she had forgotten that she had to be fighting back-to-back with Mia. Mauler fists bounced off her skin, bruising their own knuckles. She grinned, letting the rush of battle flood her senses. A Mauler swung at her face; she caught the punch, smiled, and drove her fingers into his eye socket, shattering bone and sending blue brain matter splattering across his brothers.
That was her first kill, but she didn't pause. Another Mauler lunged, and Katya spun, using his own momentum to hurl him into two others. The meaty thump of flesh-on-flesh echoed as she stomped forward. Blood streaked her hands, her powerful thighs tensing beneath her uniform. She moved through the crowd, smashing faces, breaking limbs.
One Mauler, larger than the rest, barreled toward her. Katya dodged his blow, then leapt, wrapping her arms around his waist. Taking a page from Flora's book, she used him as a bludgeon, swinging his body into the Mauler ranks, scattering them like bowling pins. The carnage was exhilarating—she let herself sink into the violence, the heat, the raw thrill of battle.
Above, the Immortals watched, frowning. They knew if Katya was left unchecked, she would grow too strong. Two swooped down. One struck Katya with a thunderous punch, sending her spinning through the air. She crashed into the wall, dust and plaster raining down. This time she felt pain.
Before she could recover, the other Immortal seized her by the ankles, hauling her into the sky. The others followed, turning Katya into a living projectile, tossing her back and forth. Each blow cracked ribs, bruised organs. She was getting passed around quickly and getting hit hard.
Meanwhile, back in the staff room, Selena rummaged through drawers and cabinets. Her mind raced—her friends needed her, and every second mattered. She found nothing but what she perceived as useless junk. Then, at the bottom of a locked drawer, her fingers closed around a small remote.
"Found it!" Selena crowed, racing back to the monitors. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene: Mia pinned and beaten, Katya brutalised but still grinning through bloodied lips. Rage surged through her.
Not rage that her friends were getting owned or beaten, but when she replayed the tape from when Katya and Mia started, which was fine for her until things went south. Had they forgotten they had a mission? An ugly frown formed on her face as she furrowed her eyebrows.
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