A dull, throbbing pain dragged Nate back to consciousness. His body felt like it had been crushed under a building, every nerve screaming in protest as he stirred.
"You're awake."
Antrasite's voice echoed in his head, but it lacked its usual sharpness. There was something off, something tense.
Nate tried to sit up, but a firm hand pressed him back down.
"Easy, kid," Henry's voice came from his side. "You're lucky to be breathing."
Nate blinked against the dim lighting of the hideout. The familiar hum of Henry's machines filled the silence, their glow reflecting off the metal walls. He tried to move his arms, but a sharp burning pain shot through his ribs, forcing a pained groan from his lips.
"Yeah, don't do that," Henry sighed, rubbing his forehead. "You had internal bleeding, cracked ribs, and some serious energy depletion. You're not going anywhere for a while."
Nate exhaled shakily, staring at the ceiling. The memories flooded back—the Hunter, the fight, the feeling of complete helplessness. He clenched his jaw.
"I couldn't do anything," he muttered. "He was just... stronger. Faster."
Henry sat beside him, his usual confident demeanor replaced with something more serious. "Whoever this guy is, he wasn't just trying to kill you—he wanted to make a point."
Nate turned his head. "That he's better than me?"
Henry didn't answer immediately. Instead, he picked up a small, broken piece of Nate's suit, setting it on the table. "I ran some scans on the energy signature he left behind. It's similar to Antrasite's... but refined. Controlled. Like someone—or something—has perfected it."
"Antrasite, what the hell is he?" Nate asked internally.
The Jinn was silent for a moment before replying. "A predator."
Nate's fists clenched. He hated the feeling of weakness, of not being enough. If he hadn't been lucky, he would've died in that alley.
Not again.
He looked at Henry. "I need to get stronger."
Henry frowned. "You need to rest."
"I don't have time to rest!" Nate snapped, wincing at the pain in his ribs. "The Hunter is out there. And next time, he's not just leaving me alive to prove a point—he's finishing the job."
Henry studied him for a long moment, then sighed, leaning back. "You're not wrong," he admitted. "But you can't fight if you're dead, either."
Silence hung between them.
Finally, Henry stood up and crossed the room. "I'll start upgrading the suit. Reinforce the structure, give you something that can actually take a hit."
Nate swallowed, feeling the fire of determination burn beneath the pain.
This wasn't over.
The Hunter thought he had won.
But Nate wasn't done yet.