Pugnando daemonium-XXXXII

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DATE:19th of June, the 70th year after the Coronation

LOCATION: Concord Metropolis

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This was different from the usual nightmares that clawed their way into my sleep. Instead of the familiar nothingness, there was… something, something half-formed yet unmistakably there. Shadows of walls and corners emerged around me, dim and shifting, but enough to suggest I was in some vast, derelict room. Water pooled at my feet, cold and slick, and somewhere above, drops fell from a leaking ceiling in a slow, rhythmic drip.

I reached out, disoriented, my fingers brushing nothing but damp air. The emptiness gnawed at me, but this wasn't some dark recess of my mind—I knew better. This was someone else's doing.

The psyker.

My throat tightened with frustration. Of course it was his meddling. His face, twisted in that impossible spiral, flashed in my mind again. Whatever he had done to me had dragged me here, into this shadowed space.

"Emily!" I called out, my voice swallowed by the room's thick silence. No answer. Not even the faintest flicker of her presence. Panic flared up, but I tamped it down. She'd never ignored me before—had the psyker done something to sever our connection?

I took a few hesitant steps forward, the water sloshing around my boots. "Emily," I called again, but there was only the steady drip from above, and a strange, pulsing darkness seemed to press in on me.

But I wasn't about to lose like this—not in some twisted dreamscape conjured by a mind-warping psyker. Gritting my teeth, I clenched my fists and called out, a name I hadn't uttered in what felt like an eternity.

"My wife," I whispered, then louder, "Come. Judge me. I'm done waiting."

For a moment, the silence deepened, then a low rumble filled the room, vibrating through the floor, up my legs, into my bones. Out of the void, a ghostly hand, massive and spectral, slammed into the ceiling above me. The entire room shook with the force of it, the steady, unyielding blackness above quivering like cracked glass.

Another strike. The darkness splintered, cracks spiderwebbing outward as light began to seep through, illuminating the wet, broken room. My heart thundered, but I wasn't afraid. I felt power in that light—a power I hadn't felt in so long.

A third strike, and the spectral hand punched through the ceiling, reaching down toward me. Fingers, cold as ice and yet familiar, wrapped around me. But I wasn't just letting it pull me from this nightmare and into another one; I seized the hand in return, holding on with all my strength.

I willed myself awake, feeling the darkness straining to hold me, fighting to drag me back. But I was done here.

I opened my eyes.

I jolted awake, my heart still hammering from the nightmare. My senses snapped into focus, and the first thing I saw was the eccentric man with his hands up, clearly surrendering. The psyker was just leaving, his silhouette slipping through the doorway.

No hesitation—I lunged at the unmasked man, my fingers gripping one of the briefcases as I tackled him. The impact knocked him off balance, and his grip on the case faltered. He tried to wrench it back, his face twisting with panic. But before I could get a stronger hold, he shoved me off with a desperate strength, stumbling backward.

He bolted for the door. I pushed to follow, but a sudden, searing pain ripped through my leg. My knee gave out, and I barely caught myself before hitting the floor. That's when I noticed the dark stain spreading over my pant leg, a cold, sharp ache settling into my thigh.

The realization hit hard—the psyker had shot me, slipped in a hit while I was unconscious. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I forced myself upright, steadying my stance as best as I could. I wasn't about to let them get away with everything, even if it meant limping after them with every ounce of strength I had left.

The hallway stretched left and right, a dizzying corridor with no indication of where the masked man had gone. Frustrated, I gripped the golden necklace around my neck, hoping it would somehow guide me, if it truly held any of the "luck" the eccentric man claimed it did.

I barked at the bunny-masked men, "Did any of you see which way he went? That bastard shot me just because he couldn't handle losing. And I thought this place had standards!"

Behind me, I heard footsteps, then the familiar voice of the eccentric man, his tone filled with that practiced, dismissive arrogance. "Subdue him, he killed your leader." he ordered, waving a hand lazily, as if I were no more than an inconvenience. So the guards really were under the lieutenant from the Combine...

I scoffed, eyeing him with a raised brow. "And here I thought you were the one who valued integrity. Turns out you're just as crooked as the rest."

He looked back at me, unfazed, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Ah, life is tough, my friend. And I'm not about to lose a precious family jewel over a game. You, however… well, I'm sure you'll understand someday."

With that, he gave a final dismissive wave, leaving me cornered with his masked guards.

The guards closed in, moving in sync, a silent wall of hostility. My mind raced, my breath slowing, pulling me into that familiar, sharpened haze as I dragged time down with me. Their motions turned sluggish, and the world grew quiet except for the heavy thud of my heartbeat.

Gripping my suit jacket by the collar, I twisted it tight and swung it like a crude hammer, aiming at the first masked figure lunging toward me. The heavy fabric caught him across the side of his head, sending him reeling, but two others closed in immediately, one throwing a punch that skimmed my jaw as I twisted away, barely avoiding another fist from behind. My leg throbbed, the bullet wound pulling my balance off, but I forced myself to move faster.

The necklace seemed to pulse against my neck, an almost imperceptible nudge that guided my strikes just enough to land blows that should've missed. Another swing of my makeshift weapon landed squarely on a guard's mask, cracking it. He stumbled back, his face hidden but his stance faltering, buying me a split second.

But even with the slowed time and the necklace nudging luck to my side, I was up against ten of them. Each time I brought one down, another filled the gap, lunging with their fists, one of them nearly pinning my arm. I elbowed him back, the effort ripping at the wound in my leg. Pain flared, and I felt my balance waver again, my movements slowing just enough that a masked figure took advantage, slamming his fist into my ribs.

I staggered but swung the suit up in an arc, catching him under the chin, the impact jolting him. My breath was shallow, ragged as I brought down another guard with a low kick, pulling him off-balance. But they were closing in, my slowed time a thin advantage against their sheer numbers, and I knew I was barely holding them at bay.

The necklace warmed against my skin as I lashed out again, hitting another, the odds tilted in my favor by only the slightest margin. Every second felt like an eternity, and I knew I'd only have so many moves left before they overwhelmed me.

Suddenly one of them rams me, pushing my crumbling balance to it's limits. I fell to the ground.

Just as I was about to use my ability, the Royal Investigators come, attracted by the commotion.

They pose in a firing line, their automatic pistols pointed at us, ordering to 'freeze'.

The Combine goons aren't idiots and stop trying to kill me. I raise myself and try to leave, but the Comissar grabs my shoulder.

"And where exactly are you going?"

"I had enough of this casino." I stated coldly. I was tired and it was hard to keep my balance.

He saw I was shot, but before he could order anything else, I explained my perspective of the situation:

"Look, I really am tired. This dumbass behind be proposed a killing game which I won. The leader of these goons also played, tried to kill me when he lost so I fought back. Another sore asshole shot my foot and ran away with half of my winnings. I am going after him."

"You can't just leave a scene under my jurisdiction, no matter your-"

"Ah, but I can. I am Marcus Fabio. I won't accept being cheated. Don't you dare try to stop me!" I could see him gripping the machine pistol strapped to his side, but he let go and I boldly walked out of the exclusive wing.

This sounds like a strange phenomenon, but it is quite a common event. Didn't the rich folk at that mansion also leave, unbothered by the inspectors? Back then they had armed militia to reinforce them and those who wanted still left.

Of course, they would probably try to reach my address later, but they wouldn't find anyone.

I am lucky Concord still uses this corrupt, semi-private henchmen instead of the usual Unified police of the kingdom.

That said, the royal Investigators are much more dangerous. Those machine pistols are custom made and probably infused with Ventium. They would have ripped through us like 50 caliber rifle ammo.

The Unified police doesn't have such a budget.

Then again, there are a hundred at most of these henchmen controlled by the Governor and an uncountable number of Security forces. No wonder Concord needs heroes to function.

Sophie found me slumped against the wall, blood soaking through my pant leg and my face drained from the fight. Without a word, she slid an arm around me, helping me up, her hand firm on my shoulder as I leaned against her to keep my balance.

"Did you see him?" I managed to ask, my voice more strained than I'd intended.

"No one with a mask anywhere," she replied, scanning the hall over my shoulder. I could see the gears turning in her mind, but her face remained set, unreadable.

I swore under my breath, frustration flaring before giving in to the situation. "Fine. Let's just get out of here," I muttered, feeling a pang of bitterness. Whatever plan I'd had to catch that bastard was falling apart.

Sophie guided me through the hallways, and as we moved, I could see the chaos unfolding around us. Heroes were pouring in, civil militia officers barking orders, some heading for the casino floors while others swept past, a current of authority that seemed to ignore us completely. Good, I thought grimly. Less hassle.

Once we finally reached the car, I slipped into the passenger seat, exhaling as I finally let go of the tension gripping my muscles. Sophie was saying something, but I didn't register it—I had only one thing on my mind. Grabbing my phone, I pulled up SuperiorWoman's number and hit call, the screen lighting up as it connected.

The line rang, and I waited, teeth clenched, my mind already piecing together my next steps.

I told SuperiorWoman I'd managed to get out and that I was heading straight to the hospital. Her voice sounded sharp on the other end. "How serious is it?"

"Shot in the knee," I replied, forcing a little bravado into my tone, though the pain was pulsing up my leg in waves. "I'll live."

"Alright," she said, her tone shifting to something almost softened, maybe out of sympathy—or respect. "Get there safely."

The ride to the hospital felt endless, the adrenaline wearing off and the pain settling in like a deep ache. By the time we arrived, I was just hoping the doctors could patch me up quickly. Sophie stayed close as I hobbled into the ER, giving me a steadying arm.

When I was finally prepped for surgery, I saw John waiting nearby, his face lined with concentration as he looked over my chart. I wasn't surprised; he was thorough and exacting, the kind of guy who'd see this as a puzzle to solve. As they began prepping me for the operation, I drifted off, the pain fading into a blur.

Hours later, I woke up, my leg wrapped, feeling lighter—like I'd lost a weight I didn't know I'd been carrying. I was still groggy when I saw her standing near the bed. SuperiorWoman, out of her uniform, dressed instead in a simple blouse and blazer, her usual bold demeanor softened by the casual look. I blinked, adjusting to the sight of her so… unguarded.

She gave a half-smile, though her eyes took in the bandaged leg. "You didn't mention you'd gone and made a mess of yourself."

I chuckled, wincing as I shifted slightly. "Guess I didn't want to ruin the surprise."

SuperiorWoman crossed her arms, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "The heroes cleared the casino, but they couldn't find anyone. No masked man, no eccentric dealer. It's like they vanished. So, what happened back there?"

I took a breath, feeling the weight of the night pressing down on me. "It was chaos. That psyker… the one who killed my team? He showed up, all smug and untouchable. Seems like he's working with either Secundo Manus or the governor himself. And when things got ugly, he ran off with one of the briefcases."

She leaned in, her face carefully neutral but her eyes intense. "And the other one? The one you managed to grab?"

A chill crept up my spine as I looked around the room. I hadn't seen it since Sophie got me here, and the thought that she might have taken it made my stomach drop. I scanned the room anxiously, already formulating questions, but before I could spiral further, Sophie waltzed in, her laughter filling the air.

"Oh, come on, you think I'd really abandon you?" she teased, walking over to the side of my bed. With a grin, she gestured to a corner on the left. "Your precious briefcase is right there, safe and sound."

Relief washed over me, and I managed a half-smile. "Thanks for keeping it close."

She shrugged playfully. "Of course. Can't let you go ruining all our hard work, now, can I?"

SuperiorWoman's gaze flicked sharply to Sophie, her jaw tightening at the cryptic response. "And who exactly are you?" she demanded.

Sophie only offered a sly smile, barely glancing at her. "Just an old friend," she replied, shrugging as though it were the simplest answer in the world.

Sarah's body tensed, but I placed a hand on her arm, calling her by her real name. "Sarah, relax. She's not the problem here." I picked up the briefcase Sophie had left by my bed, feeling its weight, and opened it. Inside was a single, unsettling item—a vial, larger than I'd expected, filled with a strange piece of flesh floating in some viscous liquid.

I turned to Sarah, who was watching it with a barely concealed shiver. "This was in the briefcase the psyker held," I told her, feeling the weight of my own unease as I pieced it together. "He got away with the other one, the one the Combine gangster brought."

The color drained slightly from her face, her eyes flickering with something close to dread. I raised an eyebrow, unsure why this had rattled her so deeply. "What was in that other vial, Sarah? Blood? Some kind of sample?"

She didn't answer, her expression frozen in a guarded mask. Instead, she took a measured breath, barely meeting my gaze. "I have to go. There's something I need to… verify."

Without another word, she spun on her heel and left the room, her silence echoing louder than any answer she could have given.

As SuperiorWoman left, I turned to Sophie, who was still lingering with that amused glint in her eyes, as if savoring the tension in the room.

"Alice might stop by soon," I told her. "Probably best if you clear out. No need to create any misunderstandings."

Sophie snickered, crossing her arms with a mock-pout. "Oh, would it make your little hero girlfriend jealous?" she teased, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

I rolled my eyes. "Something like that," I replied, then added, a bit too pointedly, "Not because you're more beautiful, though. That grotesque mask you slap on with your 'ability' doesn't even come close to Alice's natural beauty."

Her smirk flickered, but she chuckled, leaning down so her face hovered just close enough to be unsettling. "Beauty, huh? That's what you think you want?" She laughed softly, pulling back with a glint in her eye. "Maybe one day, you'll see things differently."

Without another word, she turned and left, her footsteps echoing down the sterile hallway. I let out a quiet breath, finally alone but feeling that familiar unease still clinging to the air.

Alice burst into the room about fifteen minutes later, immediately throwing herself into my arms despite my bruised ribs and wounded leg. Her eyes darted across me, frantic, taking in every sign of injury. "What happened? Are you okay? I heard about the psyker—"

I put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I'm fine, mostly. Just… had a bit of a run-in. Nothing I couldn't handle."

Her expression turned fierce, and she clenched her fists. "We'll catch that psyker together, I swear," she said, her tone firm with determination. Seeing her fiery resolve almost made me laugh—here she was, the devoted hero, still trying to believe that justice was some guarantee.

A little later, John entered with a resigned look on his face, shaking his head. "How you managed to stay on your feet that long is beyond me. Most people would've been in the ER the second they took a hit like that," he scolded lightly, though I caught a hint of admiration in his voice.

"Guess I'm stubborn," I said with a shrug, even as a dull ache spread through my knee.

He handed me a support brace, sturdy and more restrictive than I'd hoped. "You need to take it easy. That means using this for the next two, three months minimum."

"Can't wait," I muttered, slipping it on as Alice hovered beside me, adjusting the straps and checking that it fit right. Despite everything, I could feel the corners of my mouth lifting into a faint smile.

As Alice drove me home, her hands gripping the wheel a little tighter than usual, Emily's voice crackled through the car's speakers. She sounded slightly frustrated.

"I tried accessing the casino's cameras," she explained, "but their security protocol is... well, let's just say it's not your average system. They're using higher-level defenses, almost like professionally-grade encryption."

I frowned. "But you found something, right?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice lifting a bit. "There's an external camera facing the casino, likely put there to keep an eye on comings and goings. I caught his license plate from that. Right now, I'm trying to triangulate his route through the city's surveillance network."

Alice shot me a quick glance, her eyebrow raised. "So we're tracking him through... outdated city tech?"

"Pretty much," Emily confirmed with a digital sigh. "These surveillance cameras were installed back in the forty-fifth year after the coronation, which means most of them are painfully low resolution by today's standards. I'll have to enhance each frame manually to follow his trail accurately."

"How long will that take?" I asked, leaning back, already bracing for the answer.

"About a week, if I'm lucky," she said. "There's a lot of footage to comb through, and I'll need to upscale the quality of each video piece by piece to make out any details."

Alice nodded, giving a small smile as if appreciating the effort, though I could see the impatience flicker across her face. She wanted this psyker as much as I did—probably more.

"Well, keep me updated," I said. "The more we know about him, the sooner we can put an end to this."

Emily's tone softened. "Don't worry, I'm on it. We'll catch this guy."

As Alice pulled up to her building, I felt that odd mixture of frustration and exhaustion. All I could do was wait, let Emily do her work, and bide my time until the next move presented itself.

"Oh right, don't forget tomorrow we will have dinner with my parents."

"WHAT?" I completely forgot about this. Damn.

"Don't tell me you didn't even think about it... It's kind of a big deal" She scoffed, faking being hurt by my statement.

"Yeah, of course not..."

That night I felt a very eerie chill, but strangely enough I slept fine. I suppose I wasn't punished for calling her out.