The rhythmic bam bam bam filled the cargo hold again, louder and more urgent this time. The three of them exchanged wary glances, their eyes darting toward the far corner of the room where a large box loomed ominously, draped in a heavy black cloth. The sound seemed to pulse from within, sending faint vibrations through the metal floor.
Volt's jaw tightened, his fingers twitching with sparks of anticipation. "That's not creepy at all," he muttered.
"Not creepy," she said dryly, "just the most obvious trap ever."
Ghost tilted his head, smirking faintly. "Trap or not, someone's gotta check it out."
Volt looked at him and gave a quick nod. "Guess you're up, Casper."
"Always me," Ghost sighed dramatically, rolling his shoulders. "Fine, but if it's a killer robot or something, I'm haunting you."
As Ghost sauntered toward the box, his movements were casual, almost lazy, as though the entire situation bored him. His nonchalance didn't make her feel better; if anything, it put her more on edge.
Then, just as Ghost reached out to lift the black cloth, a sharp voice rang out, cutting through the still air like a whip.
"Stop right there!"
The three of them whirled around, weapons raised, their bodies tensed and ready. A shadowy figure emerged from behind a stack of crates, the flickering light casting a distorted silhouette.
Volt jolted, a curse slipping from his lips. "Damn it. How the hell did I miss—"
Before he could finish, the entire room erupted into chaos. Flames burst from the floor, circling them in a sudden inferno. The heat hit her like a wave, scorching and suffocating. Volt stumbled back, sparks flying from his gloves as he instinctively tried to contain the fire.
Ghost's usually smug expression flickered into something resembling genuine surprise. He stepped back into the circle of flames, his shadowy form now bathed in flickering orange light.
Her heart pounded as she drew her sword, her eyes scanning for the source of the attack. The fire wasn't natural—it was precise, controlled, and alive.
"Now what the hell is this?" she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
The flames crackled louder, forming almost a wall around them, their exits completely sealed off. Ghost glanced at her, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "I'd say a fire trap, but this feels… personal."
Volt snarled, his gloves crackling with electricity as he took a step forward. "Personal or not, someone's about to get lit up. I'll fry whoever's behind this."
A faint laugh echoed from the shadows, low and menacing. "Fry me? How cute."
Out of the darkness, a figure stepped forward. Flames coiled around their arms like living snakes, the firelight reflecting off their sharp, calculating eyes. The air seemed to ripple with heat around them, making their silhouette blur at the edges.
"You've been meddling where you don't belong," the figure said, their voice calm yet laced with menace. "And now, you burn."
Her grip tightened on her sword as she squared her shoulders, her pulse racing. "Yeah, well," she said, forcing a smirk despite the rising heat, "we've got a thing for playing with fire."
Ghost leaned toward her, his voice low and amused despite the danger. "You sure guns wouldn't be easier right about now?"
She shot him a glare but said nothing. The heat was rising, and so was the tension. One thing was clear—this wasn't going to be an easy fight.
"Why don't you go out there," she said, shooting Ghost a pointed look. "Don't worry about us."
Ghost raised an eyebrow, glancing at the raging flames surrounding them. "Ofcourse. I'm more worried about you two. You don't exactly scream fireproof."
"Noted," she deadpanned, rolling her eyes.
By now, Volt had gone uncharacteristically quiet. Too quiet, even for him. She frowned, stealing a glance his way. His usually cocky demeanor was replaced with something harder, something more guarded.
"Volt?" she asked, her voice low but urgent. "What's with the silent treatment? You know something?"
Volt finally exhaled, the sparks in his gloves dimming for a moment. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, his eyes locked on the flame-wielder across the room. "This is our mission. No one told us about... you."
The fire-user's laughter was low and mocking, echoing off the metal walls. "Aww, you caught on so quick. And here I thought I could play with you more, Volt."
Volt's jaw tightened, his gloves crackling to life again. "Go play somewhere else. Like six feet beneath the earth."
"If you two are done flirting," Ghost interrupted, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder, "can someone switch off the fire? I'd prefer not to roast here. It's not a good look for me."
The flame-user smirked, raising his hands. The fire surrounding them flickered and then receded, leaving only the faint scorch marks on the floor.
"Funny one, huh?" he said, nodding toward Ghost. "Who's this now? Your comic relief?"
"Who are you?" she cut in sharply, stepping forward with her sword still at the ready. Her voice was firm, her eyes blazing as fiercely as the flames had moments before. "It's only fair you introduce yourself first, considering you're crashing our party."
The flame-user's smirk widened. "Crash your party? Darling, I am the party." He leaned slightly forward, his eyes glowing faintly with a fiery hue. "Name's Scotch. And trust me, you're in my territory now."
Ghost snorted. "Scotch? Really? Did you come up with that name in the middle of an all night bender? What's your sister's name? Whiskey?"
Scotch ignored him, his attention sliding back to her. "Now, you tell me—who's the one bold enough to swing a blade at me? That's... cute."
"Bold?" she shot back, lifting her chin. "More like practical. Someone had to stop you from setting the ship on fire."
Ghost clapped his hands once, stepping into the exchange with exaggerated patience. "Great introductions all around, guys. Can we get back to the part where we figure out why he's here? Because something tells me he didn't just show up for the scenery."
Scotch's grin twisted into something darker. "Oh, I've got my reasons. But don't worry—by the time I'm done, you'll wish you never asked."