The farmhouse was a lie. To a passing traveler, it looked like a crumbling relic of the old world, but inside, the rustic wood gave way to reinforced bulletproof plating and a command center pulsing with futuristic tech. Edward signaled his team with a sharp, silent chop of his hand. They moved with the synchronized grace of ghosts, taking their stations as Edward climbed into the driver's seat of the lead interceptor.
"Boss, you don't need to be at the wheel for this," one of his men remarked, checking the action on his rifle.
Edward's grip tightened on the leather-wrapped steering wheel. "I want this over with. Let's move."
The engines ignited in a low, predatory growl. On his dashboard, glowing coordinates flickered to life. The convoy peeled away from the farm, a line of black shadows tearing through the countryside.
Miles away, Ron sat in a darkened room, the glow of a three-minute video fading to black on his monitor. He didn't hesitate. He killed the power, pulled a tactical mask over his face, and stepped into the closet. A hidden trigger sent the floor sliding away, and Ron surrendered to the gravity. He dropped through a vertical shaft, landing silently inside an abandoned storefront on the edge of the district.
Invoking his Invisibility skill, he became a ripple in the air. He slipped into a secluded alley, his form materializing only as he reached his bike. The sky opened up, drenching him in a sudden, cold downpour. He kicked the engine over, the roar of the bike swallowed by the thunder, and sped toward the coordinates of the envelope.
He saw them through the veil of rain: a column of high-tech vehicles moving with lethal precision.
Ron's eyes narrowed. He raised a hand toward the churning black clouds above. "Blade of Vengeance," he hissed.
The sky tore open. A bolt of jagged lightning descended, lashing into his palm and stabilizing into a humming, sparking blade of pure energy. Above him, the clouds twisted into a violent, cyclonic vortex.
Inside the lead car, Edward's gut wrenched. He looked through the windshield at the swirling sky. "Something's wrong."
"Boss?"
"Stay sharp!" Edward barked into the comms. "I feel something out there. Someone we shouldn't have crossed."
Before the warning could settle, a pillar of white-hot celestial fire arched toward the hood.
"EVERYONE JUMP!" Edward screamed.
The guards dove from the moving vehicles a split second before the lightning struck. Edward was a heartbeat behind. The bolt slammed into the engine block, triggering a deafening explosion that flipped the lead car into a chaotic tumble of fire and steel.
As the trailing vehicles screeched to a halt, Ron's bike roared through the black smoke. He didn't slow down, using the momentum to collide with the first guard who crossed his path. Ron vaulted off the bike as it skidded away, his lightning sword singing in the rain.
"Who the hell are you?" a guard shouted, leveling his weapon.
"Wait," another hissed, his voice trembling. "Look at the signature. It's him. Special Threat: Ron."
The guards raised futuristic rifles, their knuckles white. Austin, the squad leader, gritted his teeth. "He's a threat, but he's unstable. He hasn't mastered that power yet. Open fire!"
They unleashed a volley of glowing, radioactive pulses. Ron swung his blade, cleaving the first blast in two, but the contact triggered a localized shockwave that nearly threw him back.
"Derek!" Austin yelled over the radio. "Take the secondary team and get to the envelope—NOW!"
As Derek's car sped off into the dark, Austin stared at the crater where Ron had been standing. As the dust and steam cleared, Ron remained, encased in a shimmering, translucent layer of purple armor. Then, the armor flickered and dissolved like mist.
He can't sustain it, Austin realized, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips.
"Don't give him a second to breathe!" Austin commanded, drawing a violet-bladed combat knife. "Or we're all dead men!"
Austin lunged, his blade aimed at Ron's throat. Ron moved like liquid, weaving through the rain, though the circle of guards was closing in. He caught Austin's wrist, twisting it until a sickening pop echoed through the alley, and slammed him into the mud. Before Austin could scream, Ron delivered a devastating strike to his chest, the sound of five ribs snapping like dry kindling.
"Fire!" Austin wheezed, coughing up a spray of crimson.
As the guards squeezed their triggers, Ron vanished. Teleport.
He reappeared instantly behind a guard, shattering the man's spine with a singular, focused blow. Behind him, the combined radioactive blasts hit the exact spot where Ron—and the broken Austin—had just been.
There was no scream. When the dust settled, nothing remained of Austin but a scorched, decaying skeleton. Ron watched for a fleeting second as the bones crumbled into gray ash, washed away by the relentless rain.
Radioactive particles, Ron thought, his eyes cold. One hit and there's nothing left to bury.
Without looking back, Ron hijacked one of the idling interceptors, floored the accelerator, and tore off after Derek.
In the wreckage behind him, the flaming husk of the lead car groaned. A hand reached out from the inferno, gripping a piece of jagged metal. Edward pulled himself from the fire, his clothes shredded, his skin glowing with an eerie, sickly bluish hue. He stood amidst the flames, breathing in the smoke, his eyes locked on the disappearing taillights.