I tracked the gear down to a warehouse on the other side of Silverport. We couldn’t take the tram—we weren’t exactly inconspicuous—but thankfully the two stooges sent alongside me had a car. It was… awkward being in the car with them. I had the passenger seat. The other two looked like clowns in a clown car. Paige barely even fit behind the wheel.
Actually finding it wasn’t all that difficult. I had a map of Silverport almost memorized. Using that, we drove a bit away from the Hades Syndicate warehouse and I mentally marked down two lines to figure out the general area. Once we got close, I focused on Seek for the precise location. It was my usual method.
“… am I going in alone?” I asked the duo.
“Indeed.” Paige pushed the car into park, and turned it off. The two were just giant bundles of joy that loved talking. It made the entire ride out here very fun.
The tip of my tail curled. I… I didn’t like fighting. Loathed it, actually. Back at the kennel, they pounded a lot of lessons into me, including combat ones. More accurately, they beat me like a dog while I tried to defend myself. I was terrible at it. Even my psionic ability was non-combative.
If there was one saving grace, it was my regenerative abilities. It barely kept me alive back then, though it did end up making me a bigger target. Heh—what was better than a toy? One that didn’t break no matter how hard or often you beat it.
My hand dropped down to my tomahawk, and I ran a thumb along the handle. Going in blind wouldn’t be a good idea. “Either of you have a burner?”
The man in the back grunted, and tossed something up to me. I barely managed to catch it before it slammed into the windshield. I opened up the browser, and quickly pulled up Harbor’s database. I could do this on my own phone, naturally, but that’d lead back to me. Horizon likely already knew my position. That didn’t mean I should leave a trail.
In the past, I used a dearly departed friend of mine's password and username to access the database. That access got cut about six months ago, so I hadn’t done anything like this in a while. I had a workaround now, though. At least, hopefully. This could very well all be for nothing.
I stuffed my hand into my pocket, and summoned the Visitor’s Pass. I pulled it out and—bingo. I wasn’t quite sure if this would work outside of ID scanners, but it seemed anomalies truly didn’t play by the rules. As if sensing my will, the words on the card shifted into a clear username and password. It was a garbled mess of nonsense, but it got me into the database.
I pulled up the warehouse and glanced through the files. It was apparently a gang outpost. Harbor was collecting further data before engaging, but they weren’t linked to any larger organization. Should just be a small time gang.
As for why they had the armor? It didn't matter. All that mattered was that I got it back and proved my worth once more. Maybe Lord Bartmoss might even take me in? Working under him couldn’t be worse than working under Hades… if he had inhibitors. That dream abruptly crashed and burned. I highly doubted a man like that would have inhibitors.
“I’ll be back.” I handed the phone back, and slid out of the car. I walked around the area to case it, and watched the group.
I eyed an open warehouse door where a group of people appeared intermittently to load boxes onto a truck. For people like this… maybe striking hard and fast was the call? Shock and awe so they’d hopefully just surrender? Hopefully things wouldn’t get too violent and draw unwanted attention.
I took a breath to calm my nerves, and approached the open doors of the warehouse like a wraith in the darkness. Right, I had one shot at this. I couldn’t afford to fuck up now. Hades was trying to impress Bartmoss, so there was no telling what they’d do to me if I screwed their chances.
My boot slammed into a crate, and the woman holding it stumbled backward. The crate shattered against the ground just inside of the loading bay, spilling its contents across the cement. Packets of black powder shot out amongst the splintered wood.
Only a few people right around the front of the warehouse seemed to notice. The woman I’d already put down once sprung up toward me. For taking a surprise attack like that, her reaction time was surprisingly quick. She drew a dagger and lunged—
Clang!
I agilely ducked under her arm, and used her own momentum to redirect the blow into the chains holding up the loading bay door. My tomahawk followed it a beat later and the blunt side slapped her wrist.
”Agh!” The knife clattered to the ground. A follow-up knee to the jaw cut her pained scream off into unconsciousness. It was a fast, brutal combo that left no room for retaliation exactly as I was taught.
I kicked her body back into the warehouse, and cut the chains the rest of the way with a swipe of my axe. The heavy gate slammed down behind me, cutting off the lights spilling in from the city. Rain still pattered against it like the souls of the damned desperate to get in. Or out.
“Intruder!” One of the nearby guys shouted. After the shout, the heavy slams of boots on cement filled the warehouse. The rest of the gang rapidly gathered around with makeshift weapons—maybe a dozen of them at most. None of them charged, and instead looked back toward a particular man.
“And who are ya’ supposed to be?” A man called from the back of the group. Sharp bone quills shot up along the back of his arm like he’d half turned into a porcupine. “Have a death-wish or somethin’?”
”Or something.” My voice churned out mechanically thanks to the modulator built into my helmet. Harbor intel did indicate the leader of the gang was a Reaver, so I wasn’t too surprised to see him. “I’m here for the armor.”
The man flinched, and schooled his expression. “What armor?”
“Don’t be an idiot.” I toyed with the combat axe, and smoothly twirled it around my hand. The blade flashed menacingly in the fluorescent light of the warehouse. “Pass over your leader and the armor. I’ll let the rest of you go.”
My orders were clear—find the man. I doubted he was here, but the leader might know something. As for the armor? I couldn’t just leave it here, could I? Even if Lord Bartmoss didn’t want it, the researchers at Hades definitely would.
“You—“ The man’s face flushed, and he glanced around at the rest of his guys as if to psyche himself back up. “What the hell are you talking about?! We don’t have anything like that!”
“Enough.” I could feel it somewhere in the back of the building. There was no point lying to me.
A bolt of irritation flowed through the man. His jaw tightened, and the quills along his arm quivered. “If you don’t back down, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”
“Do your best.” I gave them the chance to get out. It was the best I could afford. My hand tightened around the grip of the axe. Right, I’d done the best I could. What was next lay on them.
A barrage of quills snapped toward me from the leader in the back. They were surprisingly quick, and each was tipped with a deadly looking point. I was already moving before he fired.
I lunged forward and dragged one of the nearby gangers in front of me to block the barrage. My fist slammed into his throat, and abruptly stopped any hint of resistance as he doubled over. The barrage slammed into my new body shield, and he let out a strangled scream.
I tried not to focus on how easy it was to hurt the man, nor the brutal injuries inflicted by the friendly fire. Instead, my mind drifted to what the most efficient way to deal with this group would be. Always go for the throat—it was one of the few things that stuck after so long being trained.
I roughly kicked the body shield toward its companions. It slammed into two of them, and all three fell into a pile of twisted limbs and sharp quills. One of them didn’t get up, and the other stopped struggling after a few moments. The sharp scent of blood made my head swim.
With three of them down, I refocused on the Reaver and chunked my tomahawk. The pitch black piece whistled sharply through the air—only to glance off his quill covered arm when he blocked. The axe deflected off to the side and clattered noisily against the ground.
The Reaver grinned and pointed his arm at me. The previously fired quills were rapidly starting to regrow. “That the best you got?”
“…” I slowly retracted my arm. Well, it was worth a shot. It would’ve ended this all so much quicker… though I didn’t have a weapon anymore. And, from the look of the Reaver, I’d only enraged him even further.
“I got him!” A guy rushed me, and swung a pipe wrench with zero finesse. I slid past the blow, and punched up into his passing arm. Bone cracked at the forced hyperextension, and he let out a horrifying scream as he collapsed to the ground. A boot to the face abruptly cut the noise.
I kicked up his pipe wrench, and threw it at a guy lifting what looked like a sub machine gun of some kind. The pipe wrench slammed the man upside the head and he dropped backward just before he could fire. My ears twitched when his head hollowly hit the ground.
Clang!
Another ganger approached while I was busy, and brought a metal pipe down hard on my arm. It caught on the armor plating, and a small sting lanced around from the impact site. The blow didn’t stop me from kicking his leg out from below him with a sickening pop.
”Argh!” The metal pipe slipped out of his hand, and I caught it with my other. I pulled him in front of me just in time for a second quill barrage to tear through the garage.
The quills slammed into the ganger, and pierced through him with so much more force than the last attack. Several even had enough force to plink off my armor after going through the ganger. Blood saturated my front, and I gently set the man to the side.
“GAH!” A woman leaped at me with a broken chair leg while I was distracted. The split-second the quills storm stopped, I batted the chair leg to the side with the pipe. I grabbed her by the front of her shirt and pulled her forward into a crushing head butt. Her nose burst against my helmet in a spray of blood, and she dropped alongside the second friendly fire victim.
I carefully wiped blood from my visor, and refocused on those that remained. Hesitation was death, and yet I couldn’t help the moment that passed. It was almost as if I hoped they’d surrender. No one ever did.
I moved through the rest of the gang on instinct. A kick to the chest, broke a man’s ribs enough that he transformed into a moaning mess on the ground. A trembling kid had his own weapon shatter his leg so badly he couldn’t get up again. I used a man’s own arm as a bludgeon to knock out both himself and his buddy.
Each crushing blow made my tail curl uncomfortably. A Canary doing this… My throat bobbed. What would Quinn think if she saw me? What would my sister think? She’d hate me even more, wouldn’t she?
“It’s not too late, you know?” A soft voice whispered into my ear. “If you just stopped… nobody would ask anything of you anymore.”
My movements slowed for the briefest of seconds—just in time for eight shots to slam into me from a revolver held in the hand of a ganger. Most of them harmlessly bounced off the armor plating, but two slipped past and painfully dug into my arm and side.
The jolt of pain brought me some clarity once more, and I moved with renewed focus. Orders were orders. As the dutiful dog of the syndicate, I’d obey no matter what I was told to do. Anything less than absolute obedience wasn’t acceptable.
A weak low-level gang like this wasn’t a threat to something like me. My agility alone allowed me to dodge most of the attacks headed my way. Soon, I cut through the ranks until it was just the leader desperately holding out his arm to fire quills. Although they rapidly regenerated, the downtime had increased with each barrage. He was a Tier-1 Reaver at best.
“If you stop resisting, I’ll make it quick.” I casually circled him, and snatched my axe back up. Behind me lay a trail of broken bodies and unconscious gangers.
“Bastard!” He feebly shot another cluster of quills at me.
I swatted two of them out of the air, and sidestepped the rest. They pounded into crates behind me and quivered with the force of the impact. One slashed deep into my tail, and sent a pain arching up my nerves. I carefully pulled it out as my precious tail slowly turned red. Crimson filled my vision, and a sharp whine stung my ears.
“My turn.” I bared my canines at the man. In an instant, I closed the gap and slammed my axe through his quilly arm. Blood shot out, and his posture immediately broke as he lost a limb. Every pulsating throb of my tail demanded I go further. Demanded I rip him into pieces.
“ARGH!” He collapsed backward and clutched at the bleeding stump. He likely wouldn’t move much with that kind of agony. “MY ARM! MY ARM!”
I turned my back to the guy before I could act on my impulses and headed deeper into the warehouse. Beyond the stacked crates and pillars supporting the roof sat rows of cages. Kidnapped people shied away as I approached, though a few desperately cried for help. My ears flattened, and I tried to ignore their voices just as I had been.
The side of me that hadn’t completely accepted my fate pleaded to save them. Even if I couldn’t save myself, at least I could save them. I dutifully pushed it down. I could put in an anonymous tip to the Peacekeepers once I was done here.
Searching for the armor wasn’t an issue even amidst the mass amount of crates. I just followed Seek toward a small crate near the back of the warehouse. I popped it open to reveal the sleek power armor my mystery man wore. Only, it was battered and destroyed like he’d thrown it into a blender.
I found a duffel bag, and dumped the armor into it to transport easier. With that taken care of, I moved back toward the Gang leader. The entire rest of the gang lay unconscious—or at least feigned being knocked out. There were definitely several guys twitching around with every heavy step of my boots.
The gangleader desperately lunged toward the revolver, and grabbed it just as I started to approach. He flicked onto his back and lifted it up toward me. “Die demon—!”
Click!
“Idiot.” The hammer slapped forward uselessly against already fired shells. I stomped forward on his good arm hard enough for it to crack, and grabbed him by the throat. Whatever he was about to say cut off into a strangled gasp of air.
He gasped around my strangling hand, and weakly beat at the metal gauntlet. “P-please—”
My hand tightened, and his words abruptly cut off. I hated it when they tried to plead for their lives. It always made it so much harder than it had to be. I looked away from him so I wouldn’t have to see the pleading.
Just one squeeze, and it could all be over. I… it’d be more merciful than being interrogated by Hades to find where he got the armor. I knew from first hand experience how broken their methods left people. I could say he accidentally died in transport. Right, that was believable, wasn’t it? Strength flooded my hand—
“Halt!” A shout came from the entry into the warehouse. I… I knew that voice. My tail curled uncomfortably, and my hand instinctively loosened on the man’s throat.
Thornclad vines pushed up the heavy door, and Guardian Thornton stepped into the place. The light of the city cast a deep shadow around him. A bright green halo hung over his head, and illuminated the rain pattering in around him.
Bryce. My throat felt like glass when I tried to swallow. What the hell am I doing? I wanted to call out. To say something. Anything. Instead, my voice stayed trapped just where it was. Where it always was.
The man looked at the broken bodies scattered around the warehouse. He tracked the trails of blood until finally settling on me. On me and the man suffocating in my hands… Fuck.