Lukas slithered over the metal panel, his body pressed against the icy basement floor, the faint creaks and groans of the ancient structure barely masking the distant hum of the smelting furnace. Crimson light spilled across the stained concrete walls, casting warped shadows that danced like monsters lurking in the dark. The air was thick with the stench of machine oil, scorched metal, and something disturbingly close to dried blood, forcing Lukas to suppress a grimace. He crouched low, his plasma pistol gripped tightly in his right hand, his thumb brushing lightly over the trigger.
He moved along the wall, steps silent as a specter, his piercing blue eyes scanning every shadowed corner. The basement was a labyrinth of stacked metal crates, dangling cables, and rusted machinery, their hissing and grinding blending with the distant echo of smoke grenades outside. Lukas knew time was slipping away. Toren and Meli were doing their part to keep the guards distracted, but Black Sword's men would soon realize it was just a diversion. He had to find Lira, take down anyone in his way, and get out before the entire dockyard turned into a warzone. He could take them all if it came to it, but he wasn't reckless enough to tempt fate.
A faint clink—metal brushing metal—sounded from his right. Lukas froze, flattening himself against a container, ears straining. A low, irritated voice cut through the air from behind a metal partition: "They torched our smuggling stash. I swear, when I get my hands on them, I'll rip them apart before handing them to Torq!" Lukas recognized the voice—not the leader, just a grunt, but still a threat. He silently drew the dagger from his belt, its alloy blade glinting faintly in the red glow.
Swift as a panther, Lukas rounded the corner. Before the guard could react, the blade was at his throat. "Quiet, or you're dead," Lukas whispered, his voice cold as ice. The guard, a hulking figure with a scarred face, raised his hands in surrender, eyes darting for an escape. Lukas tightened his grip, forcing the man to his knees, then bound his wrists and ankles with a cable from a nearby crate. "Where's Lira?" he demanded, his tone sharp enough to cut steel.
"Lower… lower basement, near the furnace," the guard stammered, sweat streaming down his face. "Skarr's there. Don't… don't kill me!"
Lukas didn't answer. He slammed the butt of his pistol into the back of the guard's neck, knocking him out cold but sparing his life. One down, six bio-signs left. He dragged the body into a shadowed corner and pressed forward toward the old furnace, its blazing red light flooding the vast chamber ahead.
As he neared the furnace, Lukas spotted a narrow corridor leading to a metal staircase. Heavy footsteps echoed from below, paired with a deep, commanding voice: "Check the girl! If she doesn't talk, take a finger. Torq wants answers by dawn." Lukas recognized Skarr's voice—the giant with a scar slashing across his face, the brutal leader of Black Sword. A quick glance at his scanner confirmed three bio-signs below, one fainter—Lira, no doubt.
Lukas descended, each step calculated to avoid the slightest sound. At the bottom, a small holding cell came into view, its rusted iron door ajar. Inside, Lira—a young woman with disheveled brown hair—huddled on the floor, hands bound behind her back, her face marred with bruises. Skarr loomed over her like a wall of flesh, one hand gripping a glowing plasma sword, the other clutching an electronic interrogation device. A guard stood near the door, a plasma rifle slung across his chest.
No time to hesitate. Lukas activated his signal jammer, scrambling every sensor in the room, and tossed a mini smoke grenade from his jacket. Thick white smoke erupted, swallowing the cell. Skarr roared, "Who's there? Face me!" But before he could react, Lukas surged forward, firing two precise plasma shots into the guard's chest, blasting a gaping hole through him. The man collapsed, blood splattering across the metal floor.
Skarr swung his plasma sword, its crimson glow slicing through the smoke. Lukas rolled aside, feeling the searing heat graze his shoulder, singeing his jacket. He landed behind a metal crate and returned fire, three rapid shots. One hit Skarr's shoulder, making him stagger, but the giant didn't go down easily. With a feral growl, Skarr charged like a rabid beast, his sword arcing toward Lukas's head.
Lukas dodged, parrying with a steel rod he'd grabbed, but Skarr was relentless. The scarred brute's face twisted in fury, deep creases folding across his forehead as he hacked at Lukas's makeshift weapon. The impact sent a numbing jolt through Lukas's body, the sheer force of Skarr's blow a testament to his monstrous strength. "Who the hell are you, ruining my plans?" Skarr bellowed, his scarred face glowing red in the furnace light, contorted with rage.
"Firewolf," Lukas replied, his voice like ice, before slamming a kick into Skarr's knee, throwing the giant off balance. Seizing the moment, Lukas fired a plasma shot straight into Skarr's chest. The brute howled, crashing to the floor, his sword clattering across the steel. Blood pooled beneath him. Lukas checked quickly—no pulse. Skarr, a kingpin, was down, and his head was worth 10,000 Valer.
No time to celebrate. Heavy footsteps thundered from the staircase, and his scanner flashed, detecting two bio-signs closing in. Lukas cut Lira's bonds and pulled her to her feet. "You okay? Can you move?"
Lira nodded weakly, her voice hoarse. "Yeah… but they've got Veyra and Torq. Veyra… she's dangerous."
Lukas supported Lira as they climbed the stairs, his pistol still at the ready. At the top of the corridor, a slender figure emerged from the shadows—Veyra, Black Sword's assassin, her fiery red hair tied high, her eyes glinting like sharpened blades. In her hands gleamed twin daggers fitted with tracking chains, dripping with a shimmering green liquid—deadly poison, just as Ryn had warned. "Hunter," Veyra purred, her voice smooth but frigid. "You killed Skarrrrrr…"
Veyra flicked her wrist, hurling a glowing dart at Lukas. He shoved Lira behind him and rolled, but the dart grazed his arm, leaving a shallow cut. A burning sensation spread—poison taking hold. Gritting his teeth, Lukas fired back, but Veyra moved like a phantom, vanishing behind a stack of crates.
Lukas pulled Lira toward the side exit where Kiv and Sana were hacking the lock. But Veyra reappeared, her daggers flashing toward his chest. Lukas dodged, smashing the butt of his pistol into her wrist, sending a dagger skittering across the floor. Veyra snarled, aiming a kick at his gut, but Lukas caught her leg, twisting to slam her to the ground. Before she could recover, he pinned her, binding her wrists with cable from a nearby crate. "You're coming with me," he growled, yanking her to her feet, pistol pressed against her back.
A trembling voice crackled through Lukas's comms, Ryn's words slicing through his focus: "Firewolf! Torq… Torq's got me! He's at the main gate, demanding a hostage trade!" Lukas cursed under his breath, adrenaline surging despite the poison blurring his vision. He signaled Lira to hide behind a container, then dragged Veyra toward the main gate, where the dockyard's harsh light bled into the shadows.
Torq stood there, tall and lean, his face hidden behind a metal mask, one hand gripping Ryn tightly, a blade pressed against her throat. "Release Veyra now, hunter—and the girl you just saved," Torq growled, his voice muffled but menacing through the mask. "Or I slit this kid's throat right here, or maybe I'll just slip away and…" A vile smirk twisted his face as he leaned in, his long tongue flicking across Ryn's innocent cheek.
Lukas tightened his grip on his pistol, but Veyra's poison made his hand tremble. Police sirens wailed in the distance—Ormuth's security forces, alerted by Toren and Meli's explosions. "You're clever, Torq. Two for one? I'm not that insane," Lukas shot back.
Torq's dry laugh echoed as he pressed the blade deeper, drawing a pained whimper from Ryn. "You don't give orders, Firewolf. Hand them both over, or I kill the kid and then you."
Suddenly, a deafening explosion rocked the perimeter fence, white smoke billowing. Toren and Meli had lobbed another smoke grenade, catching Torq off guard. Lukas seized the moment, firing a plasma shot into Torq's shoulder. The man roared, releasing Ryn, who scrambled toward Lukas. But before Lukas could close in to apprehend Torq, a nearby fuel drum erupted in a massive blast, the shockwave knocking him to the ground, his head spinning from the poison. In the chaos, one of Black Sword's goons hurled smoke and stun grenades, dragging Torq and Veyra onto a waiting ship that sped off into the night. The pounding boots of approaching police grew louder.
Lukas wanted to give chase, but the poison brought him to his knees, clutching the scratch on his arm. Ryn and Lira rushed to his side, helping him stand. "You okay, Firewolf?" Ryn asked, her eyes red and teary.
"Not dead yet, kid," Lukas panted, injecting a basic antidote from his pack. The poison slowly neutralized, but his body still felt weak. The police sirens were deafening now, armored vehicle floodlights sweeping the dockyard. Lukas glanced out and saw Kiv and Sana sprinting toward them, but Toren and Meli were in bad shape—Toren with a deep gash in his shoulder, Meli clutching a bleeding arm—both restrained by police alongside Black Sword's remaining goons.
"The cops nabbed the rest of Black Sword!" Sana shouted, dragging Kiv closer.
Lukas gritted his teeth, pulling the group behind a stack of containers. "Ryn, lead everyone to the sewer. We need to bolt before we're caught. These cops don't care who's who."
Ryn guided Lira, Kiv, and Sana toward the sewer. Lukas turned back, firing a plasma shot into a cop's leg to free Toren and Meli. "Firewolf Pack leaves no one behind," he growled, hauling them along. He reached into his pack, pulled a stun grenade, and lobbed it at the pursuing officers. Ormuth's security force was a joke—plenty of them, but useless in a real fight.
The group slipped through the sewer, the sirens fading behind them. Emerging into the dense forest near the dockyard, Lukas checked on everyone. Lira was weak but safe, Ryn trembling from her brush with death but unharmed. Toren and Meli, though bloodied, stood tall, eyes blazing with defiance. "Firewolf Pack pulled it off, Firewolf!" Toren said, flashing a grin despite the blood dripping down his arm.
Lukas nodded, his face grim. The antidote had dulled Veyra's poison, but it still lingered in his system. "It's not over," he said, his voice low and sharp. "Ormuth's cops will scour this place all night. We need a safe spot to rest, patch up, and plan our next move. They'll probably claim Skarr's head and steal our credit. Lay low for a few days, and we'll be fine. I know how these bastards operate."
Kiv, still clutching his codebreaker, pointed toward a low hillside where dense bushes concealed a dark entrance. "There's an old cave a few hundred meters out," he said, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. "Used to be a smuggler's stash. No one knows it but the old runners. It's abandoned now."
Lukas nodded. "Lead the way."
The group moved swiftly through the forest, careful to avoid dry branches that might snap underfoot. Sana supported Lira, while Ryn stuck close to Lukas, her wide eyes still flickering with fear but laced with newfound resolve. Toren and Meli, despite their wounds, pressed on through gritted teeth, refusing to slow the group.
At the cave, Kiv knelt and shoved aside a camouflaged mesh covered in dead leaves, revealing a narrow entrance. The group crawled inside, greeted by the damp smell of earth and old metal. The cave was larger than Lukas expected, with abandoned crates stacked in one corner and a small, ancient heater left behind from the smugglers' days before Valeria's crackdowns. The faint glow from the heater cast jagged shadows on the rough stone walls, creating a mix of safety and claustrophobia.
"Seal the entrance," Lukas ordered. Sana quickly dragged the mesh back into place, using Kiv's scanner to confirm no tracking signals followed them. The group collapsed to the ground, exhaling heavily as the battle's tension gave way to bone-deep fatigue and pain.
Lukas opened his pack, pulling out a compact battlefield medkit designed for ops like this. He handed a painkiller syringe to Toren, who was grimacing as blood seeped from his shoulder gash. "Stop the bleeding first, Hammer," Lukas said, his voice low and edged with cool concern. "Meli, how you holding up?"
Meli, her arm hastily bandaged with a torn strip of her shirt, shrugged, forcing a grin. "Still kicking, Firewolf. But if I see Veyra again, I swear I'll smash her face before tying her up." The group let out a faint chuckle, the weak sound easing the heavy air.
Sana checked Lira, running a handheld medical scanner over her injuries. "Lots of bruising, no fractures," she reported, her tone professional. "She needs rest and food. They starved her for too long." Lukas nodded, handing Lira a nutrient bar from his pack. She took it, her eyes grateful but wary, as if she hadn't fully decided to trust this hunter.
Ryn sat beside Lukas, hugging her knees. "I… I thought I was done for when Torq held that knife to my throat," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Thank you, Firewolf."
Lukas placed a hand on her shoulder, gentle but firm, offering quiet reassurance. "You're tougher than you look, Tiny," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward—a rare smile. "But next time, don't get caught so easily."
Ryn gave a weak laugh, nodding. "Promise."
Once the group settled, Lukas leaned against the cave wall, checking his bio-scanner. No signatures nearby—the police hadn't reached the forest yet. He scanned the group, now temporarily safe, but his eyes remained sharp. "Rest for an hour," he said. "Check your weapons, patch your wounds. After that, Ryn, you're taking me to the Safehouse. I need to meet Nightingale, and I want to know exactly what she's hiding."
Lira, mid-bite of her nutrient bar, looked up, her eyes narrowing. "Nightingale's not your enemy, Firewolf," she said, her hoarse voice firm. "She knows about Valeria… If you hand her over to them, things will get worse."
Lukas frowned, his gaze flicking from Lira to Ryn. "I'll handle it my way. You just point me to her."
Ryn's eyes dimmed with a fleeting sadness, and silence fell over the group. The younger ones had drifted to sleep, exhausted. Lira and Lukas sat awake in the stillness of the night, the faint crackle of the heater's embers filling the air. Who was Nightingale, and what secrets did she hold?