Elias, still braced against the seat, turned to look out the window.
At the front of the bus, the PCA officer rose from his seat. He tugged his brimmed hat low over his brow, straightened his crisp jacket, and strode toward the driver. "Open the doors," he ordered, his tone sharp, commanding without needing to be loud. "I'll deal with this."
The doors hissed open, and the officer stepped out with purposeful steps, the sound of his boots hitting the ground echoing faintly inside the bus.
Elias craned his neck to get a better view through the front window. About fifty yards away, a figure stood in the middle of the roadway, his posture steady despite the glare of the bus's headlights. He wore a battered jacket, the fabric frayed at the edges, and his head tilted slightly forward as though daring someone to approach him.
Above him, something hovered, too far away to make out clearly. Elias squinted, catching sight of what looked like a large, dark shape circling above the man's head. It was unlike anything Elias had seen before—vaguely animalistic, with a hulking presence that almost defied logic at this distance.
"What is that?" Elias muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Dot floated up from his shoulder, her wings twitching slightly. She stared intently at the figure in the road, her tone cautious. "It looks like… another Ikona," she murmured.
Elias's brows furrowed as his gaze darted between the man and the strange creature. The black form hovered ominously above its host, its size and shape markedly different from Dot's delicate frame. Whatever it was, it wasn't friendly.
The officer had stopped a few feet away from the man, his stance firm and unyielding. "This is a restricted route," he barked, his voice cutting through the stillness. "You're trespassing. State your name and your reason for being here!"
The man stood still at first, his head tilting up slowly. Though his face remained shadowed, his calm tone cut through the tension like a sharpened edge.
"I really don't want this to turn ugly," he said, voice steady but carrying a dangerous weight. "Just hand over the boy with the shard, and I'll leave."
The officer squared his shoulders, his hand hovering near his sidearm. "How about you put your hands in the air instead?" he replied, his voice low and commanding. "Are you with one of the insurgent groups?"
The man let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "I know he's on the bus," he said simply, ignoring the question. "It led me right to him."
The officer's hand dropped to his holster, his movements tightening. "Led you?"
The man raised his head fully now, the faint light catching his face. His expression was calm but laced with cold certainty. "I'll make this simple," he continued. "I can clear this bus out, one body at a time, or you can make things easy for both of us. But something tells me that's not how you do things."
The officer's training kicked in. His weapon was out in one smooth motion, the blue energy swirling to life with a hum as he fired in the same breath.
The blast streaked through the air and struck the man square in the chest. For a moment, it seemed like it would knock him off his feet—but instead, a wave of dirt and debris exploded outward. The man's jacket tore away, revealing his body shifting and expanding, his form taking on a monstrous appearance.
His skin turned dark and dense, as if plated in thick, natural armor. Massive ridges jutted from his shoulders, his hands growing larger and heavier, resembling bludgeons. His entire body swelled with power, his new frame radiating raw strength.
The officer stumbled back, startled by the sudden transformation, but he didn't lower his weapon. He opened his mouth to shout another command, but the man was already moving.
"You had your chance," the transformed man growled, his voice deeper now, vibrating with an unnatural resonance. With one swift motion, his fist slammed into the officer's side.
The blow landed with sickening force, lifting the officer off his feet and sending him crashing to the ground several yards away. Blood began to spread across his uniform as he clutched his ribs, groaning in pain.
Inside the bus, Elias froze, his breath catching as he watched the scene unfold. He barely noticed Dot hovering near his ear, her voice cutting through his shock. "Elias," she whispered, "look up.
"What the hell is that thing? Or who is it?!" someone shouted from the back of the bus.
The murmurs among the recruits quickly grew louder as the driver, his face grim, reached under his seat and pulled out a rifle. He checked the charge with practiced efficiency, standing up.
"It's… another shard bearer," Dot said, her voice wavering in Elias's ear. "I-I think. That form… it's advanced, but I don't remember how it's possible."
Elias's breath caught as he watched the figure outside. The man's twisted, almost beast-like form radiated an unnatural energy, his movements deliberate yet primal. "What does that even mean?!" Elias whispered harshly, trying to keep his voice low.
Dot hesitated, her tone uncertain. "I—I don't know! My memories… they're still fuzzy. But I'm pretty sure not just anyone can do that. There's… something about compatibility. That's all I can recall."
Elias clenched his fists, frustration bubbling under his skin. "Well, how do I stop him?! He's tearing through that officer out there like paper!"
Dot's voice shrank, guilt creeping in. "I don't know. I don't think we're ready for this yet. But if you don't act, he's… he's going to die."
Elias stared down at his hands, his pulse thudding in his ears. "Great. No pressure," he muttered, swallowing the lump in his throat. He glanced toward the front of the bus, where the driver gripped a rifle under his seat, eyes wide as he barked into a radio.
"Everyone stay in your seats!" the driver shouted, his voice strained.
But Elias was already moving, adrenaline surging as he sprinted toward the front. "Hey!" he shouted at the driver, gripping his arm. "You got another gun? Anything? I used to be a decent shot!"