The ambulance took Aurel and the young woman away.
The doors slammed shut.
The blue sirens disappeared into the night, swallowed by the damp streets of London.
The HMA had not arrived yet.
Not officially.
But Noah already knew the alley would not remain abandoned for long.
An open Hole.
A dead mutant.
Three civilians involved.
Too many anomalies to vanish inside an ordinary report.
He and Angel parted ways without really saying goodbye.
There were too many questions between them.
Too many silences.
Too many things seen and not yet admitted.
Noah returned home with soaked clothes, a dry throat, and a hand that was still cold.
Decomposition vibrated beneath his skin like an irritated nerve.
“What a nightmare…”
He collapsed onto his bed without undressing.
Sleep swallowed him all at once.
The sun had barely begun to rise when the black HMA van stopped near the fissure.
Stamped with the silver seal of the Agency for Hole Management.
The alley had changed faces.
Yellow tape.
Light beacons.
Uniformed agents.
Atmospheric scanner.
Portable barriers.
The corpse of the mutant rat still lay on the asphalt, covered by a partial tarp that hid neither the smell nor the size of the beast.
Harry stepped out of the vehicle.
In his thirties, hard-faced, his gaze worn by too many nights spent chasing anomalies.
An old bruise still marked his jaw from the confrontation with the cultist.
His body had recovered quickly.
Son, younger, followed him with a portable scanner in his hands.
The device emitted regular beeps, too nervous for such a cold morning.
Harry observed the alley.
“What do we have ?”
Son checked the screen.
“Hole appeared last night.
Unstable signal.
One confirmed mutant outside the perimeter.
A rat, apparently neutralized by civilians.”
Harry lifted the tarp with two fingers.
The rat’s flank was gutted.
Not just torn.
Part of the flesh seemed to have been eroded, dried out, disassembled.
The edges of the wound were irregular, brittle, as if the matter had lost cohesion before giving way.
Harry frowned.
“Look at this.”
Son crouched.
“They did a number on it.”
“A civilian did this ?”
“According to the first call, a woman was being attacked.
A man passing by supposedly intervened.”
Harry let the tarp fall back down.
“What a big heart.”
Son raised his scanner toward the fissure.
The numbers shifted.
His face tightened.
“The Hole appears to be intermediate stage.”
The silence changed at once.
Harry closed his notebook.
Clack.
“We’re going down.”
He turned toward two uniformed agents.
“Guard the entrance.
If the signal rises or something comes out, you fall back and lock down the perimeter.”
“Yes, sir.”
Harry looked at Son.
“Ready ?”
Son inhaled.
“Not really.”
“Perfect.”
They jumped.
The fissure swallowed them.
The inside of the Hole had nothing to do with London.
The transition was always the worst part.
One second of falling.
Then the world turned over.
Gravity regained its meaning with brutal delay.
Air entered Harry’s lungs with a different density, wetter, more mineral, saturated with wild Astra.
They landed on cold stone.
Son slowly straightened.
“Even after all the reconnaissance missions, I still can’t get used to it.”
Harry did not answer right away.
Before them stretched an immense cavern.
Not a simple cave.
An underground network.
Stalactites hung like teeth.
Still pools of water reflected blue light from nowhere.
Thick roots snaked along the walls, radiating an ethereal glow, almost alive.
A light mist floated in the air.
Luminescent particles drifted slowly through it.
Beautiful.
Too beautiful.
Holes had that kind of cruelty.
They knew how to look like miracles before digesting you.
Son almost whispered.
“It’s beautiful.”
Harry was already moving forward.
“And deadly.
Save your fantasies for your days off.”
Son tightened his grip on his runic pistol.
“Yes, chief.”
They advanced.
Each step echoed against the damp stone.
The Astra in the air pressed against the skin, light but constant, like pressure deep inside the bones.
Harry felt his Nodes react.
Not yet.
Just recognize the environment.
Tension.
A warning.
Then a shrill cry split the cavern.
“Griiiih !”
Harry raised his hand.
“Our hosts are coming.”
Son armed his pistol.
“I see them.”
Eight mutant rats burst from a side tunnel.
Smaller than the one in the alley, but fast.
Black fur stuck to their ribs.
Mouths open.
Claws ready.
Their smell came before them.
Rot.
Sulfur.
Wet fur.
Harry raised his hand.
“Clay Whip.”
Astra descended into his arm.
Slow.
Dense.
Familiar.
The mud on the ground answered.
It rose into a thick ribbon, stretched, hardened in places.
Harry whipped the air.
The movement snapped.
Three heads fell.
The bodies continued running for two steps before collapsing in a dark spray.
The other rats screamed.
Son fired.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
The runic bullets struck eyes, joints, front legs.
Each impact left a bluish line in the air and a burn in the flesh.
The mutants stumbled, robbed of their momentum.
Harry closed his fist.
“Clay Cones.”
The mud fragmented into spikes.
They shot out at once, launched by compact pressure, and sank into the unbalanced bodies.
Chest.
Throat.
Abdomen.
The last rat died before even brushing their boots.
Son reloaded.
“Ugh.
I’ll never get used to this.”
“Stop complaining.”
Harry stepped over a corpse.
“We move.”
They advanced deeper.
The blue light intensified.
The roots grew thicker, more nervous, as if they pulsed to the rhythm of an invisible heart.
The air had gained heat.
The walls seemed to sweat.
Then the tunnel trembled.
A heavy rumble descended toward them.
Son froze.
“Chief…”
A massive rat emerged from the darkness.
Two meters at the shoulder.
Thick fur, almost armored.
Bloodshot eyes.
Bone spikes jutted from its spine, forming a bristling natural armor.
With every breath, its ribs swelled like bellows.
Harry cursed under his breath.
“Where did this one come from ?”
The rat charged.
“As usual.”
Son pivoted to the side and fired twice.
Bang.
Bang.
The bullets lodged in the fur.
Minimal effect.
Son went pale.
“Its skin is too thick.”
The mutant howled.
“Grrrrriih !”
The spikes on its back vibrated, then shot forward.
Harry slammed his hands onto the ground.
“Mud Wall !”
Mud rose into a compact block just before impact.
The spikes buried themselves in it with a series of dry thuds.
The wall held.
One second.
The massive rat slammed into it.
The structure exploded.
The beast burst through the debris and struck Harry with a backhanded swipe.
The impact cut off his breath.
His ribs protested.
His body lifted off the ground and hit the wall.
Son fared no better.
The mutant’s tail swept into his chest.
The young agent crashed against the rock, his pistol almost slipping from his fingers.
Harry stood back up with a groan.
‘Stronger than expected.’
He spat blood.
‘Around five Nodes.
Maybe more.’
The rat turned toward him.
Harry stretched out his arm.
The remains of the mud wall trembled.
No need to create more.
The dried mud cracked, partially liquefied, then crawled across the ground in thick filaments.
It clung to the rat’s legs.
Climbed.
Closed around its chest, neck, spine.
The mutant struggled.
“Grrriih !”
“Shut up.”
Harry clenched his fist.
“Clay Prison !”
The mud dried all at once.
Then spikes formed inside.
They pushed in every direction.
The flesh gave way.
The rat’s cry became a gurgle.
Spikes of hardened clay pierced its flank, belly, and throat.
The monster trembled for two more seconds, then went still.
Harry inhaled with difficulty.
Once.
Twice.
His Nodes pulsed inside his skull, heavy with fatigue.
He had burned too much Astra too quickly.
Son straightened with a grimace.
“You okay ?”
Harry scoffed.
“That’s my question.”
“I’m alive.”
“Good.”
Harry looked at the massive corpse.
Then at the tunnels around them.
“We can’t keep going like this.
I think we’re close enough.”
Son immediately understood.
“Long-range reconnaissance ?”
“Yes.
Find the guardian.
I want to know what’s waiting at the bottom.”
Son nodded.
He closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, his pupils had changed.
Sharper.
Colder.
A golden glow filtered around the iris.
“Hawk Sight.”
Astra circulated toward his eyes.
The veins at his temples tightened.
His breathing slowed.
His sight crossed the cavern, tunnel after tunnel, carried by a thread of perception that brushed the walls, passed the stalactites, curved around the pools.
He saw the rats.
Dozens.
Maybe fifty.
Some smaller.
Others more massive.
All agitated by the noise of the fight.
Then his gaze reached the lair.
His blood turned cold.
At the bottom of the cavern, a rat-man sat against the wall.
Two meters fifty.
Almost human musculature, but warped by thick fur, scars, joints too long.
His black claws rested on the stone.
They pulsed with a dark energy, as if absorbing the ambient light.
Behind him, a blue crystal was rooted into the wall.
Huge.
The glow reflected in the guardian’s red eyes.
Eyes with wide, dark pupils, almost intelligent.
The guardian turned his head slightly.
As if he had felt Son’s gaze.
Son cut off his ability at once.
He returned to himself with a violent inhale.
Harry grabbed him by the shoulder.
“What did you see ?”
Son swallowed.
“A rat-man.”
“Rank ?”
“Around six Nodes.
Maybe more.
And there are dozens of other rats.
Some are already heading toward us.”
Harry remained silent.
One beat.
Two.
Then he made his decision.
“We’re leaving.”
Son blinked.
“What ?
But you have six Nodes.”
“Exactly.”
Harry picked up his notebook from the ground.
“The guardian is probably at six Nodes too, maybe higher.
And this is his home.
I’m not engaging in an even fight at the bottom of a Hole with fifty rats around us.”
Son clenched his teeth.
“I see.”
A first cry echoed through the tunnel.
Then a second.
Then twenty.
“Griih.”
“Griiih.”
“Griiiih.”
Harry turned his head.
Red eyes were lighting up in the darkness.
A wave of black fur was advancing toward them.
Son raised his pistol.
“Our fight with the big one attracted them.”
Harry sighed.
The mud beneath his boots was already beginning to tremble.
“Shit…
This fucking job.”