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DATE:6th of July, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Taurinorum, Piemontis
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The convoy gathered early, each van representing one of the seven main teams. Outside Concord, heroes were a rarity. It made sense; most people with abilities found their place in institutions like the military or law enforcement, or they went freelance as mercenaries. Civilian applications for powers seemed almost non-existent, given how many of them were built for exertion and confrontation rather than utility.
I found myself in the second van, sharing the cramped space with Alice and John, known by his hero name, Lifeweaver. Alice and John greeted each other briefly, but it was clear he was out of it—a man with steady hands and an uncanny ability to knit flesh and bone together as if they were pieces of fabric. John isn't a full time superhero, and not due to time constraints. I went for a drink with him in the week prior to this deployment and he confessed that he doesn't like fighting. Strange for such a big man.
As the vans rolled out, the atmosphere was tense but focused. The hum of engines filled the air, a steady rhythm underscoring the weight of the task ahead. Through the tinted windows, the sprawling Ventian countryside passed by, its beauty masking the rot beneath.
Alice leaned back in her seat, arms crossed, her usual confidence tempered by the stakes of the mission. John, seated across from me, was methodically checking his gear: medical supplies, scalpels, and a small handheld device he used to amplify his abilities.
"This isn't your first time back here, is it?" John asked, glancing at me.
"No," I replied, keeping my gaze out the window. "But I doubt this trip will feel nostalgic."
He gave a dry chuckle, adjusting his gloves. "Nothing about this place ever is."
Alice broke the silence, her voice cutting through the hum of the van. "What's the plan when we hit the compound?"
I shrugged, keeping my voice calm. "Same as always. Get in, get out. Minimize casualties."
"Minimize casualties?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow.
"Of our side," I clarified, earning a small smirk from her.
The van lurched slightly as it hit a bump in the road, and the faint chatter from the other vehicles crackled through the comms. It was a strange gathering—so many heroes in one place outside Concord. It made me wonder just how bad this job would get.
The atmosphere in the convoy was heavy, weighted down not only by the impending mission but also by lingering whispers about Blazer. His betrayal had left a deep mark, one that even SuperiorWoman's attempts at rallying focus couldn't entirely erase.
Blazer's fall from grace had sparked a grim question: How many others like him were out there? Eyes fell especially hard on his former teammates. Every gesture, every word they spoke was scrutinized, as though some hidden sign might reveal their loyalties. It was unfair, but such was the paranoia that spread in the wake of betrayal.
SuperiorWoman's voice crackled through the comms, firm but strained. "Focus on the mission. Blazer is behind us. The enemy is ahead. Let's keep it that way."
The heroes murmured their agreements, but the undercurrent of distrust lingered like an unwelcome fog.
I leaned back in my seat, unmoved by the drama. Let them talk, let them speculate—I didn't have time for it. The mission was what mattered. Blazer's actions were a distraction, and distractions in our line of work could get people killed.
Alice nudged me, her tone light but her expression serious. "Think they'll pull through?"
"They don't have a choice," I replied, my voice flat.
The van fell silent again, the hum of the road filling the void. For me, the rumors and doubts were just noise. My focus was on the compound ahead, on the task that lay before us. Let the others sort out their suspicions—I had a job to do.
The convoy came to a halt roughly a hundred meters from the warehouse. Engines cut, and doors slid open with precision, releasing waves of heroes and operatives into the dimly lit industrial area. The team moved swiftly, boots crunching against gravel as we rushed past the security gate, its rusted bars offering no resistance.
The surface seemed eerily quiet—too quiet. No armed guards, no immediate threats. It felt like a trap waiting to spring.
As we closed in on the warehouse's perimeter, the resistance emerged. A squad of armed security personnel poured out from a side entrance, rifles at the ready. Their shouted orders were drowned out by the sudden eruption of action.
SuperiorWoman was the first to break formation, moving with the ferocity and precision of someone accustomed to chaos. She was a blur of power, bullets ricocheting harmlessly off her as she closed the distance and dispatched the guards with brutal efficiency.
Behind her, a hero I didn't recognize raised their hands, a shimmering wall of ice forming between us and the gunmen. The air crackled with cold as the barrier solidified, giving the rest of us cover to regroup and assess the situation.
Alice crouched beside me, her eyes darting between the warehouse and the thinning line of defenders. "They weren't expecting us to hit this hard," she said, a hint of grim satisfaction in her voice.
"Doesn't mean they don't have surprises waiting," I muttered, scanning the area for anything unusual.
The rest of the heroes began to move, some flanking the guards while others prepared to breach the warehouse doors. The ice wall began to crack under sustained fire, but by then, SuperiorWoman had already cleared the immediate threat, leaving a pile of unconscious or incapacitated guards in her wake.
Gunfire echoed in the distance, distant but relentless, a reminder that this operation extended far beyond the warehouse. Reinforcements or sleeper agents had been activated, and chaos was unfolding above.
"Teams 3 and 5 will stay topside," SuperiorWoman announced, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Hold the perimeter and cover our entry."
Among those staying was the ice-wielding hero. She nodded, her expression stoic as she prepared to reinforce her team's position. Her presence would undoubtedly fortify the surface, but inside, the mission grew more perilous.
We pushed into the warehouse, the dim lighting casting long shadows across rows of crates and machinery. The faint hum of hidden mechanisms beneath the floor confirmed our suspicions—this wasn't just a storage site.
"Split up," SuperiorWoman commanded. "Teams 6 and 7, take the stairs. Teams 1, 2, and 4, secure the elevators."
The plan was swift and decisive. The stairs creaked under the weight of those ascending, while my group moved toward a set of concealed elevators hidden behind false walls. SuperiorWoman tapped a control panel, revealing three secret shafts.
"These go straight to the lower levels," she explained, her tone grave. "No turning back once we're down there."
I glanced at Alice, who was unusually quiet, focused. We stepped into one of the elevators.
The doors slid shut, and with a jolt, we began our descent into the unknown.
The elevator ride started calmly, the hum of its descent broken only by the distant, muffled sound of explosions. The walls trembled slightly, the vibrations a reminder of Barryvard's handiwork somewhere above.
Suddenly, a sickening screech reverberated through the shaft, followed by the unmistakable sound of an elevator plummeting. My heart sank. One of the teams had lost their lift—and likely their lives.
"Focus," I muttered to myself. We were nearing the bottom, the supposed stronghold of the Donn.
When the doors opened, we were greeted by total darkness. The oppressive, stale air was tinged with the sharp, unmistakable scent of ammonia.
I tensed immediately. "Luvein," I muttered, low enough for the others to hear.
"Who?" someone from the back whispered.
"The chemical smell means she's close," I said, stepping out cautiously. The floor was eerily quiet, the absence of the other teams unsettling. "And be careful—don't let her webs touch you."
Alice stood close behind me, her eyes scanning the dark, her voice a low whisper. "Could the elevators lead to different levels?"
"Maybe," I replied, the unease gnawing at me. "Or they didn't survive the trip."
I crouched low, pressing my fingers against the floor for balance. The lights might have been out, but I could feel her presence. Madame Luvein was a patient predator, her traps silent and nearly invisible. If we were in her lair, we were already at a disadvantage.
"We stick together," I said, my voice steady. "Everyone move carefully. She likes to isolate and corner people."
The faint, almost imperceptible hum of tension filled the air as we began moving forward, eyes straining to see through the suffocating blackness.
The darkness felt alive, pulsing with tension as we moved. My suit's thermal and night vision systems came to life under Emily's control, painting the world in eerie greens and reds. Through the grainy visuals, she highlighted faint glimmers of Luvein's webs, thin as air but sharp enough to shred flesh.
"Web, two steps ahead, left side," Emily whispered into my earpiece. I stopped short, guiding Alice around it.
The faint sound of crawling echoed through the corridor, unnatural and chilling. It wasn't the shuffle of human footsteps but something else entirely—faster, lighter, skittering.
"She's close," I murmured, gripping my weapon tightly.
Emily interrupted, her voice calm but analytical. "This floor is... unusual. It's not a weapons cache but a medical facility."
I frowned, glancing around. The faint outlines of cabinets and doors to patient rooms loomed on either side. My thermal camera picked up faint heat signatures in some of them, but nothing large enough to be human.
"What kind of medical facility?" I asked under my breath.
"Storage for medical supplies and experimental equipment. There are patient records too, but I can't access them. They're written in analog—binders and notebooks."
"Analog?" Alice whispered, her voice laced with unease. "That's weird. Who uses that in a place like this?"
"Someone who doesn't want records hacked," I replied.
The skittering sound grew louder, echoing closer now. I motioned for the group to stop and stay quiet.
"Whatever that is, it's not human," Emily said. "Thermals are picking up something in the vents. Eight limbs, fast, erratic movement."
Alice tensed beside me. "Do you think it's her?"
"Who else would it be?" I muttered.
We crept forward, passing more cabinets and patient rooms. The ammonia smell grew stronger, stinging my nostrils. Something was off about this place. It felt too deliberate, too pristine despite the chaos above.
"We need to keep moving," I whispered. "Stay close, and don't touch anything."
As we rounded a corner, Emily spoke again, her voice sharper this time. "Something's wrong. There's a heat signature directly ahead—larger than anything we've seen so far."
I stopped, raising my hand to signal the group. The faint red glow on my thermal vision shifted, its outline almost humanoid but distorted.
"Luvein?" Alice asked.
I didn't answer. Instead, I gripped my weapon tighter and prepared for whatever was waiting for us in the dark.
John instinctively moved to flick on his flashlight, but I grabbed his arm firmly, shaking my head. He shot me a confused look, but I didn't have time to explain. I heard it again—the shift in the air, the faint scrape of metal bending under pressure.
"Make some distance," I whispered sharply, gesturing for the others to back away.
The air grew tense as the sound of crawling intensified. Metal shrieked as something heavy and fast moved through the vents, the noise echoing around us. My pulse quickened, but I forced myself to stay calm, bracing for the inevitable.
Then it came.
A blur of motion erupted from the darkness, pouncing straight at me. But I was ready. My hand slammed the taser trigger at maximum setting, and the creature lit up like a grotesque lantern. Electricity danced across its misshapen form, illuminating the hallway in bursts of blinding white light.
And what I saw was worse than I expected.
It was a grotesque amalgamation of flesh and chitin, parts of its body seeming to melt into each other like wax. One side of the creature was unmistakably human, bearing Luvein's face—or half of it. Her eye twitched, staring blankly, while her mouth hung open in an expression that could have been pain or rage. The rest of her body had warped into something inhuman: spider-like legs sprouted from her torso, dripping with viscous fluid, while patches of her skin were replaced by jagged exoskeletal plating.
Alice gasped behind me. "What the—"
The creature shrieked, a piercing sound that made my ears ring. It convulsed under the taser's crackling charge but didn't collapse. Instead, it lashed out, its spider legs slamming against the walls and floor, sending sparks flying.
"Emily, any advice?" I hissed, stepping back but keeping the taser engaged.
"She's heavily modified," Emily said, her voice tinged with unease. "Organic and mechanical parts fused. Her neural patterns are erratic, almost feral. I can't predict her movements."
"Fantastic," I muttered.
The creature, Luvein—or what was left of her—let out another screech, breaking free of the taser's grip. It skittered backward into the shadows, leaving trails of ammonia-scented fluid behind.
"She's not done," I said grimly, gripping my weapon tighter.
Alice stepped up beside me, her voice firm despite the tension. "What do we do?"
I glanced at her, then at John."We finish this. Stay sharp and don't let her corner you. Emily, guide us through this maze."
In the distance, the skittering started again, louder this time. She was coming back.
We bolted down the corridors, John's flashlight blazing ahead of us like a beacon. The beam cut through the oppressive darkness, throwing long, flickering shadows across the walls. My suit's LEDs struggled to keep up, barely illuminating a few meters in front of me.
The layout of this floor felt unnatural, almost deliberate. Patient rooms lined the hallways, their doors identical and evenly spaced, like a repetition glitch in some twisted design. Cabinets cluttered the walls, filled with medical equipment and ominous vials. The air was sterile yet carried an undercurrent of ammonia and rot that made my stomach churn.
"This place feels wrong," Alice muttered, her voice low but steady as she jogged beside me.
I nodded, keeping my focus ahead. "It's like they wanted to confuse anyone who came down here. Emily, any chance you can map this?"
"I'm trying," she replied, her tone clipped. "The floor plan doesn't match the compound's official schematics. It's like this level was hidden."
"Hidden, or repurposed?" John said grimly, glancing over his shoulder as we turned another corner.
The crawling sounds hadn't stopped. They seemed to echo off the walls, making it impossible to pinpoint Luvein's exact location. Sometimes it was faint and distant, other times alarmingly close, but always unnerving.
"Stay together," I said sharply. "She's faster than us in these vents. Don't give her an opening."
As we moved deeper, the hallways seemed to narrow. The patient rooms all looked the same—metal beds, strange monitors, and straps that suggested their occupants hadn't been there willingly. The cabinets were filled with surgical tools and fluids I didn't want to think too much about.
"What the hell were they doing here?" Alice asked, her eyes darting to a shattered syringe on the floor.
"Whatever it was, it wasn't medicine," I said.
John stopped suddenly, shining his flashlight down a side hallway. "Wait. Look."
We turned to see a streak of viscous, dark fluid smeared across the floor, leading into one of the rooms.
"Blood?" Alice asked.
"Not just blood," John replied. "It's ammonia again. She's marking her territory."
I grimaced. "Or trying to bait us. Keep moving."
The hallway opened into a larger area—a central hub with more cabinets and what looked like surgical stations arranged in a circle. Some of the stations were covered in tarps, but others were exposed, revealing disturbing modifications: tools designed for carving, stitching, and grafting.
"Emily," I said, my voice tense, "what are we walking into?"
"This isn't a medical floor," Emily said after a pause. "It's an experimentation lab. And judging by the equipment, it's not meant for humans."
A chill ran down my spine. The crawling sound grew louder, this time accompanied by a low, guttural clicking.
"She's here," I whispered, gripping my weapon tighter. "Get ready."
As the vent above gave way, a deafening crash filled the room, followed by a plume of smoke and debris that clouded my vision. My grip tightened around the Beretta, my instincts kicking in. Emily's voice cut through the chaos.
"She's to your left! Near John!"
I spun to see the vague outline of Luvein—or what was left of her—lunging at John with grotesque speed. Her elongated, malformed limbs moved unnaturally, like a twisted arachnid. Before he could react, she sprayed a hideous mixture of ammonia and webbing directly at him.
John screamed, a blood-curdling sound that made my stomach lurch. The liquid boiled on contact with his suit, the sizzling sound sharp and relentless. The smell of burning material and flesh hit me like a punch to the gut.
"Get her off him!" Alice yelled, already moving to intercept.
I aimed carefully, guided by Emily's rapid directions, and fired two shots. The Beretta's retort echoed through the room, and I saw the bullets strike her shoulder. She screeched—a guttural, animalistic sound—stumbling backward and momentarily loosening her grip on John.
Alice didn't hesitate. She used her gravitational powers to pull him away, the air distorting slightly as she dragged him out of Luvein's reach. John collapsed on the ground, clutching at his suit where the webbing had burned through.
"She's not down!" Emily warned. "She's circling back!"
I turned to see Luvein retreating into the shadows, her movements erratic and unsettling. The smoke made it hard to track her, but Emily's thermal readings flashed across my visor.
"She's on the ceiling!" Emily called out.
I barely had time to react as she dropped down again, this time aiming straight for me. I dove to the side, firing as I moved, but she was fast—too fast. Her claw-like hand swiped past me, narrowly missing my torso but slicing into my suit.
"Alice, cover me!" I shouted, scrambling to my feet.
Alice sent a gravity pulse toward Luvein, slamming her into a wall. The force was enough to crack the plaster, but Luvein recovered almost instantly, crawling sideways along the surface like an insect.
John groaned from the floor, struggling to move. His suit was half-dissolved, and his skin underneath was red and blistered.
"Get him out of here!" I barked at Alice.
"What about you?" she shot back.
"I'll deal with her. Go!"
Reluctantly, Alice pulled John up, supporting his weight as she started toward the exit. Luvein hissed, clearly intending to pursue, but I fired another round, forcing her to focus on me.
"Come on, you freak," I muttered, leveling the Beretta. "Let's finish this."
Luvein's guttural growling echoed in the dim hallway, a menacing, guttural sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. She didn't charge; instead, she lingered just out of sight, circling like a predator sizing up its prey.
Then, her voice came—a distorted, grotesque mix of human tones and something far worse.
"Who… are you?"
Her words were halting, unnatural, as though her vocal cords were torn between her human past and whatever monstrosity she'd become. I stayed still, keeping my gun trained on the shadows where she lingered.
Technically, I was wearing a suit designed for Chou special forces and operated by Emily. But explaining that to her seemed not only pointless but a waste of breath.
Instead, I deflected. "How did you turn up like this, Luvein?"
Her growling intensified, a sound that seemed to scrape against my nerves. For a moment, I thought she wouldn't answer, that she'd lunge instead. But then, through the smoke and the tension, her distorted voice came again, tinged with bitterness and pain.
"They… said I… could be… better," she hissed, her words dragging like a rusted blade across metal. "Stronger… perfect. Lies…"
I glanced toward the hallway where Alice had taken John. Every second I kept Luvein talking was a second closer to getting them out of here.
"They used you," I said, my tone calm but probing. "The Donn's people? Superior Manus?"
A sickening, wet laugh escaped her, half-human, half-beast. "Not just… them. All of them. All the same… promise power, take… everything."
I could feel Emily's presence, her soft voice cutting through the chaos in my earpiece. "She's stalling too. She's keeping you here. Be careful."
"Yeah, I figured," I muttered under my breath.
Luvein's growl turned into something resembling a chuckle, her twisted humor unsettling. "You… think you're… different? You'll… end up… like me. Used. Broken."
"Maybe," I replied coldly, taking a slow step forward, my gun steady. "But not today." I don't know where she is getting.
She shrieked suddenly, a burst of rage that rattled the cabinets and echoed through the halls. My finger twitched on the trigger, ready for her to strike, but she didn't move. Instead, she melted back into the shadows, her distorted voice trailing after her.
"You… can't run… forever."
The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the distant sound of gunfire and explosions from above. I exhaled slowly, lowering my weapon slightly but keeping my guard up.
"Emily," I murmured. "Can you track her?"
"Negative," she replied. "She's out of thermal range, but we should keep moving. Alice and John are a few halls down, but we need to regroup before she comes back."
I nodded to myself and started toward the direction Alice had taken, keeping my steps light and my senses sharp. This wasn't over—not by a long shot.-*-*-*-*-"