Chapter 19

The ceiling erupted in a violent burst of fire and stone, Ryn's molten form streaking upward like a blazing arrow piercing the night.

Concrete shattered, raining down in jagged shards, slamming into the marble floor below with bone-jarring thuds.

Dust billowed, a choking haze that stung eyes and clawed at throats, mingling with the sharp scent of scorched rubble.

The building groaned, its foundation trembling as Ryn breached the rooftop above, his fight with Catapony igniting in the open air.

Mira and Elena stood amidst the fallout, the echo of his departure a deafening roar in their ears.

Kellan's voice cut through the din, barking orders as he stormed toward the stairwell.

"Keep them busy!" he growled, his massive frame shoving through the crowd.

The A-rank swordsman and the metal-bodied brute followed, their boots pounding the floor as they raced to join their boss.

Above, Catapony hovered, lifted by the A-rank flyer's talons—her eagle-like wings beating the night sky, keeping him aloft for the battle.

She wouldn't be coming back down.

Not yet.

"Once Catapony is done with Ryn, we'll be back," Kellan shouted, disappearing into the stairwell's shadows with his lackeys.

That left Elena and Mira alone.

A sea of villains encircled them—grinning, leering, their eyes glinting with bloodlust under the flickering lights.

Mira's golden gaze swept over them, cold and detached, reading their strength like a predator sizing up prey.

She felt no aura worth fearing—none of these grunts carried the weight of true power.

Unlike Mira, Elena saw more.

Faces she recognized.

Blitzstrike—a former speedster hero, now a traitor in jagged armor, his blue suit traded for a coward's sneer.

Murderers who'd turned on their own, their hands dripping with the blood of fallen comrades.

Ranks varied—C, B, A—but no S-rankers stood among them.

Kellan had been the only one.

That hit her like a blade of ice.

He'd left no heavy hitters behind.

Her fists clenched, knuckles whitening, she was ready for the war.

The room held its breath.

Mira's shadows writhed at her feet, coiling like serpents, her stance poised and lethal.

The villains waited, weapons gleaming—electricity crackling, blades flashing, muscles flexing.

No one moved.

Then—

Dax struck.

His telepathic assault slammed into Elena's wavering mind, a vicious, invisible force clawing at her thoughts.

Her vision splintered, pain exploding behind her eyes.

Her knees buckled, a gasp tearing from her throat as she gripped her head.

Mira's head snapped toward her, golden eyes narrowing.

A fatal pause.

The villains surged.

Mira moved first.

Her shadows erupted, faster than sight, tendrils lashing out with deadly precision.

Soren and Lira barely blinked before darkness yanked them forward, slamming them into Dax with crushing force.

His mental grip on Elena shattered, his focus breaking.

And in that tangled mess—

Mira's blade flashed.

A single, clean cut.

Dax's head rolled, blood spraying in a hot arc.

His body crumpled, lifeless, a marionette with severed strings.

The room froze.

Gasps tore through the crowd.

No one had expected Mira to kill so fast.

Silence gripped them.

Then—

Elena—shaking off Dax's influence, looked around angrily.

Her voice shook the air, raw with betrayal and fury.

Her iron fist smashed into a B-rank grunt's face, sending him crashing into a pillar.

His skull cracked, blood pooling as he slumped.

Chaos swallowed the room.

Soren lunged first, twin blades flashing in deadly arcs, aiming for Mira's throat.

Mira's shadows coiled around her, forming a shifting armor that caught the steel mid-swing.

The blades screeched against the darkness, sparks flying, but they didn't pierce.

Lira darted in from the side, electricity crackling along her arms, her jittery speed a blur as she aimed for Mira's blind spot.

Mira let her come.

The second Lira closed the gap, shadows burst outward—a dozen razor-thin tendrils slashing across her limbs.

Blood sprayed, bright and vivid, as cuts bloomed on Lira's arms and legs.

She staggered back, cursing, her electricity sputtering like a dying flame.

The A-rank grunts moved next, flanking Mira from three angles.

A broad-shouldered man with a machete swung low.

A woman with glowing fists aimed high.

A third, his skin shimmering with scales, charged straight on.

Mira exhaled slowly.

"Too slow."

Her body twisted through their attacks, a dance of unnatural grace, dodging between blades and fists as if they moved in molasses.

Her shadows lashed out like whips—sharp, relentless.

The machete-wielder screamed as a tendril took his eye, blood gushing down his face.

The glowing-fisted woman fell, shadows burrowing into her chest like living spears, her ribs cracking audibly.

The scaled grunt lunged again—his arm met a shadow blade.

It sliced clean through.

He howled, clutching the stump, collapsing as blood pooled beneath him.

Mira turned, her golden eyes locking onto Soren.

Blood dripped from her fingers, staining the floor.

Soren's frost-kissed hair gleamed under the lights, but her expression had shifted—no longer confidence, but unease.

Mira licked her lips, a feral glint in her gaze.

"One down."

Her voice was silk and venom.

"You're next."

Soren tightened her grip on her blades, her jaw clenching.

She didn't charge this time.

She circled, wary, her breath visible in the chill she exuded.

Lira scrambled to her feet, clutching her bleeding arms, her goggles fogged with panic.

"We can take her!" Lira shouted, voice shrill.

Mira's smirk widened.

"Try."

Elena was a storm.

Her iron-coated fists moved like pistons, shattering jawbones, ribs, skulls.

A C-rank swung a pipe at her head—she caught it, twisted it from his grip, and drove it into his gut.

He doubled over, gasping, blood bubbling at his lips.

She headbutted an A-rank rushing her from the side, his nose exploding in a spray of crimson.

His body hit the floor, unconscious before he landed.

Blood splattered across her face, warm and sticky, but she didn't blink.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving.

She felt every impact—her knuckles throbbed, her ribs ached where a stray fist had landed.

A blade grazed her thigh, a shallow cut that burned.

She didn't stop.

Didn't slow.

Didn't care.

Her mind was fire—white-hot, consuming.

A B-rank lunged, his fists glowing with weak energy.

She grabbed his face, lifted him like he weighed nothing, and slammed him into the floor.

The crack of his skull echoed, a sickening pop that silenced the grunts nearest her.

Another tried to stab her from behind—a thin man with a dagger.

She spun, caught his wrist, and snapped it.

He screamed, dropping the blade.

She tore his arm from its socket, hurling him into the crowd.

They kept coming.

A B-rank with metal claws slashed at her chest—she ducked, drove her fist into his stomach.

He retched, collapsing.

An A-rank with sonic powers opened his mouth to scream—she kicked his jaw shut.

Teeth shattered, his cry choked off.

The horde pressed in, a wall of bodies and hate.

Elena's vision blurred, sweat and blood stinging her eyes.

Her body was slowing—pain seeping through the adrenaline, her strength fraying at the edges.

She took a breath, flexing her bruised fingers.

She wasn't done.

Not yet.

But as she turned to face the next wave, she saw it.

The circle tightening.

Villains closing in from all sides, their grins hungry, their weapons gleaming.

Blitzstrike darted forward, a blur of speed, his fist aimed at her temple.

She blocked—barely—his knuckles grazing her cheek, splitting skin.

Another A-rank—a woman with venomous spines—fired a barrage of needles.

Elena dove, rolling across the blood-slick floor, the spines embedding in a grunt behind her.

He screamed, convulsing as poison took hold.

She staggered to her feet, chest heaving.

Her good eye scanned the room—too many.

Too damn many.

Above, an explosion rocked the building—Ryn's fight shaking the foundation.

Dust sifted from the ceiling, a fine gray snow over the carnage below.

Mira glanced up, her shadows faltering for a split second.

Soren seized the opening.

Her blades slashed forward, one catching Mira's arm.

A thin line of blood welled, dark against her pale skin.

Mira hissed, her golden eyes flaring.

She retaliated—shadows coiling around Soren's legs, yanking her off balance.

Soren hit the ground hard, rolling to avoid a tendril aimed at her throat.

Lira fired a desperate bolt of electricity—Mira sidestepped, the arc frying a grunt instead.

His body jerked, smoking, and fell.

Elena saw none of it.

Her world was a tunnel of fists and blades.

A B-rank tackled her, driving her back.

She kneed his gut, threw him off—but another took his place.

A fist slammed into her ribs—cracked bone screamed in protest.

She grunted, swinging wildly, connecting with flesh.

Blood sprayed, but her arm trembled.

Her legs wobbled.

The horde smelled weakness.

They surged, a tide of violence.

Blitzstrike blurred past again, his kick catching her shoulder.

She stumbled, crashing into a table, glass shattering beneath her.

The venom-spined woman loomed, needles glinting.

Elena rolled—too slow.

A spine grazed her arm, venom searing her blood.

She bit back a scream, her vision swimming.

Mira's voice cut through the haze.

"Elena!"

Shadows lashed out, spearing the spined woman through the chest.

She gurgled, collapsing.

But it wasn't enough.

The villains kept coming—endless, relentless.

Elena pushed to her knees, her breath a ragged wheeze.

Her iron fist clenched, slick with blood.

Mira fought on, shadows weaving a deadly dance, but even she was tiring.

Soren rose, blades steady.

Lira limped forward, electricity flickering.

The horde tightened its noose.

Above, a series of explosions—loud.

Ryn.

Elena's heart pounded.

She wasn't sure if he'd won.

The villains grinned, sensing the end.

She spat blood, glaring defiance.

Her body screamed.

Her will burned.

But the shadows closed in.