Where The Dead Rest.

The deserted streets stretched out before me, a sombre backdrop for the choices we were about to make. Waiting outside Benzo's shop, the emptiness echoed the weight of the decisions we faced.

As Vi appeared, her surprise at my presence was met with a gentler response. "Arlo, what are you doing here? You should be at home."

I approached her, trying to convey understanding. "As should you. I know what you're planning, and I ain't stopping ya." Softening my tone, I nodded and gestured for her to enter the desolate store. "But I'm staying, nothing you say or do will change that."

Vi, caught in her internal struggle, silently surrendered and entered the building. Leaning against the worn-out wall, I braced myself, a supportive presence in the midst of the gathering storm.

//////

The passage of time felt like an eternity as Vander and Benzo arrived. My solemn nod toward the door conveyed that Vi was inside, awaiting the inevitable conversation.

As they entered, I followed suit. Vander's speech unfolded, a mixture of paternal pride and a stern reminder of the importance of family. His words hung heavy in the air as he expressed his expectations for Vi's role in protecting the family. The storeroom door closed with a decisive click.

Vi banged on the door, yelling at Vander to let her out, her frustration palpable.

Vander turned to me with a sombre expression. "Arlo, I need you to understand. What's about to happen with Vi is necessary. I don't want you to intervene. Instead, I need you to be there for them, to protect the family. There are threats that Vi won't be able to face with her fists alone. That's why I want you and Benzo to keep the peace, to safeguard what matters most to us." The weight of his words pressed upon me, acknowledging the challenging role I had to play in maintaining stability during these trying times.

Thankfully even if he didn't know it I'd be changing fate and he would be here to look after them, just then Benzo warned us they were here and I stood with my back against the door Vi was locked behind.

"I'm guessing that's for me." The captain said as she stood in the doorway, Benzo moved to stand next to me and watched with a defeated expression.

The dickhead enforcer from before moved forwards with cuffs in hand ready to apprehend Vi before Vander got in his way. He scoffed before asking." Are you going to let us make the arrest or not?"

"You'll oblige a doomed man one last smoke."Vander took out his pipe and lit it as he was talking before taking a puff.

The captain looked in shock before walking up to him a resigned look on her face." I'm not putting you away Vander."

"The council needs their pound of flesh." He answered back. But the captain was still reluctant.

"Without you down here, it all falls apart," The captain asserted, Vander putting down his pipe before extending his hands, prepared to be cuffed.

"Benzo will handle things. He may not have my devilish charm, but he runs a tight ship. He's also got the pug to back him up," Vander added, sharing a sombre look with Benzo before the obnoxious enforcer proceeded to cuff him.

"You won't be coming back for a long time, you know," the captain stated, her voice laced with a mix of curiosity and concern. Vander's gaze remained fixed ahead as he answered, "I know."

There was a lingering silence, pregnant with unspoken emotions. The captain, still puzzled and saddened by his actions, couldn't help but press further, "Why? What's driving you to this?"

Vander sighed, the weight of his decision evident in the lines etched on his face. "It's the only way," he replied cryptically, leaving the captain and me in the dimly lit corridor of Benzo's shop as the enforcer took him into the streets.

I trailed behind the captain, bracing myself for the impending confrontation. The air was thick with tension, but my instincts whispered that this was just another brawl, and I couldn't help but feel a touch of cocky assurance about the impending fight against the drugged-up Deckard.

Just then the enraged junky's shouts echoed through the dimly lit undercity as he surged toward the captain, moving faster than any ordinary human should. With swift precision, I intercepted, tackling him to the ground. It took a considerable amount of strength to keep him restrained as Silko made his ominous appearance.

Meanwhile, the captain, unfazed, had her gun drawn and aimed at Silko, a testament to her unwavering resolve. Another enforcer brandished his baton, while Vander, still cuffed, stood resiliently with Benzo at his side, armed with a makeshift pipe gathered from the ground.

"Silko? You animal. Go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of," Benzo snarled, advancing towards Silko.

Vander, with a firm grip, pulled Benzo back, while the captain cautiously warned, "Stay back, he could be armed."

"I see your dog is off its leash," Silko taunted from the end of the street.

The Captain, undeterred, approached slowly. "Put your hands up; you are under arrest!"

"Am I, Captain?" Silko's response was accompanied by an unsettling roar echoing through the streets, triggering my instincts into a heightened state of alertness. A massive figure emerged through the fog, prompting Benzo to mutter, "What the blood hell is that?"

With Deckard's neck swiftly snapped, I positioned myself in front of the group, ready to confront the looming threat that towered over me.

"You see, you got yourself a pet, so I decided to get one of my own," Silko remarked innocently. The ominous figure in the distance grew nearer, setting the stage for an impending clash of titans in the undercity streets.

As the monstrous creature approached, its form became clearer through the lingering fog. Towering over me, it exuded an intimidating aura. My instincts screamed at me to prepare for a fierce confrontation.

Without hesitation, the beast lunged forward, aiming for Silko. However, Silko, with a calculated move, produced a dog whistle and blew it sharply. The echoing sound seemed to have an immediate effect as the colossal creature halted its attack on Silko, diverting it crashing into a wall.

The sudden change in direction left everyone on edge, wondering who or what had become the new focus of the creature's aggression. Silko, smirking with satisfaction, seized the opportunity to distance himself from the impending danger.

The creature, a grotesque sight with little to no skin, revealed bulging muscles that seemed to strain against its form. Standing at a towering 10 feet, it possessed only one eye, the other obscured by a grotesque layer of flesh. The eerie appearance added to the surreal chaos of the unfolding scene, leaving those present to grapple with the surreal and nightmarish nature of the beast.

//////

In the brutal exchange, the grotesque beast unleashed its mighty fist, aiming for Arlo with devastating force. Reacting with feline like agility, Arlo managed to evade the colossal strike, leaping backwards as the creature's punch left a deep crater in the unforgiving ground.

Undeterred, Arlo, fueled by an instinctual ferocity, surged forward on all fours. With jaws agape, he lunged at the creature's throat, sinking his teeth into the malformed flesh. A gory spectacle unfolded as Arlo's assault tore through the creature's throat, spattering the fog-choked surroundings with ichor.

However, the creature, seemingly impervious to conventional wounds, retaliated with a vicious countermove. Grabbing Arlo by the scruff of his neck, it yanked him away, forcibly tearing itself free from Arlo's lethal bite. The creature's regenerative capabilities, unsettling and otherworldly, began knitting the torn flesh back together.

With Arlo now in its monstrous grip, the beast displayed its overwhelming strength. Slamming him into the unyielding ground, the impact resonated with a sickening crack. The fog-shrouded streets echoed the brutal symphony of the clash as the creature, relentless in its assault, proceeded to stomp on Arlo's chest.

Metal groaned and ground beneath the creature's weight, intensifying the grim tableau. Arlo, despite his formidable resilience, emitted a low whine of pain, the pressure on his chest threatening to crush him.

Silko's sinister delight was palpable as he revelled in the chaotic spectacle unfolding before him. With a chilling nonchalance, he declared, "My, my, this has been rather entertaining. But I believe it's time to go."

The sly grin etched across Silko's face betrayed his satisfaction with the outcome. Clicking his fingers in a gesture of command, a horde of his ruthless goons materialized from the shadows. Silko's orders were clear and ominous, "Kill them, but make sure to grab Vander."

As Silko retreated into the darkness, leaving the enigmatic beast to continue its onslaught, his minions closed in with malicious intent.

The captain assessed the dire situation, caught between the clash of the monstrous beasts and Silko's forty thugs all armed with makeshift weapons. Swiftly recognizing the need for all available hands, she barked out a decisive order, "Un-cuff him, now!"

The enforcer, though visibly shaken by the unfolding chaos, wasted no time and promptly freed Vander from his restraints. As the metal cuffs fell away, Vander's hands were once again unbound, allowing him a chance to join the fray against the dual threats closing in from different directions.

Amidst the chaotic brawl, the smaller group surprisingly held its ground against Silko's overwhelming numbers. The captain skillfully juggled a firearm and a baton, unleashing a barrage of shots while fending off anyone who dared approach too closely. Her enforcer fought valiantly, providing crucial support by covering her back.

Vander and Benzo, back to back, formed a formidable duo. Benzo, armed with his pipe, dealt substantial damage to any adversary within reach. Vander's fists, resembling solid steel, pounded into the opposition, yet the relentless onslaught was taking its toll. Slowly but surely, they found themselves running out of stamina against the relentless onslaught continued.

Arlo, a resilient but weathered presence, bore the scars of an unyielding assault. His regenerative prowess strained under the constant barrage, struggling to mend a broken jaw that hung agape, blood trickling down from his mouth and nose. The intensifying pain triggered a surge in his regeneration and pain resistance levels, a desperate attempt to withstand the unrelenting punishment.

With a thunderous force, he was catapulted through a building, crashing onto the opposite street. Amidst the wreckage, Arlo struggled to his paws, a determined resilience in his eyes. The colossal beast, undeterred, followed through the newly created hole, its imposing presence looming over the battered figure of Arlo. The sounds of the ongoing brawl and gunshots filled the air, providing an ominous backdrop to Arlo's relentless stand against the monstrous adversary.

The behemoth, shaken but determined, advanced once more, its colossal limbs swinging with intent. Arlo, recognizing the precarious state of his own endurance, manoeuvred with newfound urgency. Each evasive roll and agile dodge pushed his body to its limits, the strain evident in his movements.

As the behemoth relentlessly pursued, Arlo could feel the depletion of his reserves, a unique exhaustion distinct from the battle wounds. Yet, with every calculated evasion, Arlo fought against the encroaching weariness, his instincts and survival drive urging him to outlast the monstrous adversary.

Just then a system notification glowed, signalling the activation of the overclocking mechanism.

([Overclock] active])

A surge of intense heat coursed through Arlo's massive frame. His claws and paws, now aglow with a red-hot fervour, reflected the amplified power that surged within him. Energized and guided by primal instincts, Arlo relinquished himself to the overwhelming force as steam wafted from him.

The air was thick with the stench of burning flesh as Arlo's claws, now red-hot and ablaze, tore through the behemoth's once-mighty physique. The monstrous adversary's roars of pain reverberated through the desolate streets, mingling with the frantic shouts of the ongoing brawl between the enforcers and Silko's thugs.

The behemoth's regenerative powers were no match for the brutal onslaught. With every rending swipe, chunks of charred flesh fell away, revealing the grotesque anatomy beneath. The ground beneath them became a gruesome canvas, painted with blood, burnt tissue, and the remnants of the once-intimidating creature.

Despite the ferocious onslaught, the behemoth fought back with renewed fury. Its massive fists swung wildly, each impact sending tremors through the ground. Arlo, however, danced nimbly through the chaos, avoiding the crushing blows. The fiery glow of his claws left a trail of sizzling wounds on the behemoth's hide, further intensifying the gory spectacle.

The streets bore witness to a visceral dance of brutality, a macabre symphony of violence that left both combatants battered and bloodied. The overclocked power coursing through Arlo fueled his relentless assault, each strike pushing the limits of savagery. The behemoth, now a grotesque amalgamation of burnt and torn flesh, fought desperately to turn the tide.

In a macabre symphony of violence, Arlo's overclocked ferocity took centre stage. His regenerative powers, fueled by the relentless intensity of the battle, worked in tandem with the fiery claws that now burned a searing path through the behemoth's flesh. As the behemoth, tattered and mangled, succumbed to the onslaught, Arlo seized the moment.

With a primal leap, Arlo tackled the behemoth to the ground, exposing its chest in all its grotesque vulnerability. His claws, now molten-red in their overclocked state, burrowed into the creature's side, anchoring him in a gruesome tableau of carnage. The battlefield echoed with guttural roars, the air tainted with the acrid scent of burning flesh.

In a frenzied display of brutality, Arlo's jaws, now fully restored, descended upon the behemoth's chest. The creature's twisted ribcage offered little resistance as Arlo tore through, revealing a visceral collage of organs beneath. The once-mighty behemoth, now a grotesque canvas of suffering, thrashed in agony, attempting to break free from the claws of its relentless assailant.

As arterial blood sprayed in gruesome arcs, Arlo delved deeper into the behemoth's innards, ripping away at the macabre tapestry that was its anatomy. The behemoth's futile struggles mirrored its waning strength, the once-formidable foe now reduced to a nightmarish spectacle. The streets, stained with the ghastly remnants of the battle, bore witness to the visceral climax of this grotesque dance of survival.

Arlo's ferocity knew no bounds as he pressed on, driven by an insatiable hunger. The once calculated moves gave way to a primal instinct, the thirst for sustenance eclipsing rational thought. The battlefield, now a gruesome canvas, bore witness to the relentless dance of predator and prey.

His claws and jaws tore into the behemoth's torn chest, a macabre symphony of violence and survival. The scent of blood and the raw texture of flesh fueled Arlo's insatiable bloodlust. The world around him blurred as the primal need to feed consumed every rational thought, leaving behind only the savage instinct to devour.

//////

In the aftermath of the brutal brawl, the once-proud fighters now stood battered and broken, the price of their resilience etched across their bodies. The captain, adorned with flesh wounds, gripped a machete, her weapons of choice lost in the chaotic clash. Her subordinate visibly weakened, clung to consciousness, his figure tainted by the seeping blood from a stabbing wound.

Vander, though bearing fewer injuries, remained vigilant, a testament to his seasoned combat prowess. Conversely, Benzo, the toll of the relentless onslaught etched on his battered form, showcased the brutality of the engagement. His left eye socket caved in, a twisted leg, and a gushing wound on his right arm painted a grim picture of the cost paid in the fight for survival.

Amidst the debris-strewn battlefield, nine remaining thugs, undeterred by the carnage surrounding them, still stood as a testament to their tenacity. The fallen comrades, some shot dead, others bleeding out or incapacitated, mirrored the brutality of the confrontation.

In the tense aftermath, the remaining thugs, emboldened by their resilience, clung to the belief that victory could still be theirs. Vander and the captain, standing resolute against the waning odds, prepared for what seemed to be the last stand.

However, a gunshot shattered the fragile equilibrium. Silko emerged once more, wielding a firearm that now cast a grim shadow over the already blood-stained streets. Vander, turning in response to the sound, witnessed the captain's abrupt demise. Her lifeless body crumpled to the ground, eyes wide in shock, an untimely end that offered no moment for comprehension.

Beside her, the captain's subordinate, knees buckling under the weight of exhaustion and despair, stared at her fallen form, the magnitude of the loss searing through the chaotic aftermath of the brutal confrontation.

Vander's voice rang out, a mix of rage and desperation, directed at Silko. The reality of the captain's demise and the potential repercussions of this violent act hung heavily in the air. Silko, seemingly unfazed dropped a bag of money to the enforcer and continued his leisurely approach towards Vander, who stood as the solitary figure amidst the wreckage.

As Silko stood before Vander, as thug seized an opportunity, delivering a ruthless blow to the back of Vander's head with a crowbar. The once indomitable leader crumpled, defenceless against the onslaught of further strikes that rained down, rendering him unconscious.

Silko, with an unfeeling gaze, observed the brutal spectacle. He turned away, his voice echoing with detached authority, "Grab him and let's go. The Behemoth should already have killed the dog by now, and we need to collect both of their body's." The callousness in his tone underscored the impending darkness that gripped the city.