Smoke belched from Warehouse 17's roof vents as alarms howled across the riverside district. Jack and Lyra burst through a maintenance hatch onto the gravel-strewn rooftop, Patch flapping behind them.
Below, freed test subjects stumbled into the night—some glowing faintly, others half-transformed by graft experiments. Zara's voice crackled, frantic: "City cams show Guild squads converging from three directions—clock's ticking!"
Jack glanced back; shadow tendrils rippled up the side wall like inky vines. Elias Draven vaulted over the parapet, landing between them and the only fire-escape ladder.
"Enough running," Draven said, shadows forming twin sabers in his hands.
Lyra raised crackling arcs of technomancy. "Jack, we have to jump to the next roof!"
Jack's grin turned feral. "Go. I'll buy time."
Lyra hesitated—then bolted toward the gap. Patch followed, cursing in pigeon.
Draven advanced. "Your arrogance costs lives. Half the warehouse is drowning because of you."
Jack rolled his shoulders, frost aura blooming. "They were torturing people. Collateral math favours me."
"Math?" Draven snarled. "You can't balance chaos with numbers."
He lunged. Shadows slashed; Jack parried with frozen forearms, shards flying. Each impact siphoned heat, strengthening Jack's chill barrier. He counter-punched, driving frost into Draven's chest—the hunter staggered, armor icing.
Jack's ribs healed mid-breath, adrenaline singing. "Round two feels fairer."
Draven's eyes flared. Shadows spiraled up, forming a spear that he hurled—Jack sidestepped, but the spear ripped a solar panel behind him, ricocheting into a gas vent. Flames erupted.
Jack coughed smoke. Fire bad for frost, he mused. Adapt. The sigil pulsed; frost receded, replaced by glowing embers under his skin—he'd absorbed the vent's heat. Super-heated bloodstream coursed through him.
"Improvised upgrade," Jack said, launching a molten punch. Draven's shadow shield hissed, evaporating.
Yet Draven smiled. "Predictable."
From the flame plume a shadow whip lashed, snagging Jack's ankle and yanking him off balance toward the roof edge. Jack caught the parapet with one hand—concrete cracked under enhanced grip.
Draven strode forward, spear reforming. "Sigil or corpse—choose."
Jack's gaze flicked to the adjacent rooftop where Lyra waited, arm outstretched. He inhaled, drawing heat into a concentrated glow in his palm.
"Third option," Jack muttered. He slammed the parapet—super-heated energy exploded, blasting debris into Draven's face. The hunter reeled; shadows fluttered like torn banners.
Jack vaulted, clearing the alley gap. Lyra grabbed his wrist, hauling him over the ledge.
Patch landed on Jack's head. "Next plan? Preferably one without optional cremation."
Jack laughed, adrenaline high. "Working on it."
Draven appeared at the gap, fury radiating. Shadows coalesced into wings; he leapt, gliding toward them.
Lyra cursed. "He's not stopping."
Zara's voice cut in, urgent: "Guys, intel dump shows a Guild relay tower four blocks east—take it out, their comms crumble. I've unlocked a drone swarm to cover your