Inside the freight compound, the shadows clung to the walls like oil.
The silence didn't last long.
Adam dropped down onto the metal walkway first, landing with a dull thud, crouched and grinning. Brass knuckles already locked in tight. He looked around like a kid in a candy store made of threats.
Jack landed just behind him, lighter on his feet, his mask glowing faint gold under the cold light of flickering warehouse lamps.
The place wasn't abandoned. It was defended.
"Robots," Adam whispered with a smirk. "I freaking love robots."
Jack's eyes tracked motion from the far end of the container yard.
Several wheeled security guards rolled out of a storage dock—tall androids with one large wheel at their base instead of legs. Their torsos twisted unnaturally, one arm extended into a telescopic baton, the other ending in a compact riot shield.
Behind them, robotic bat drones flapped into view, their wings razor-thin, eyes glowing red as they scanned for heat signatures.
Then the air pulsed.
Tiny twin-barreled drones floated in from above, machine guns locked and humming as their targeting systems began to lock.
Adam stretched his arms lazily.
"I'm gonna sleep real good after this."
"Stay quiet," Jack said softly.
Adam winked. "No promises."
The bat drones shrieked and dove.
Jack moved first, ducking under the wings and grabbing a nearby metal crowbar leaning against a crate. The moment his fingers curled around it, golden light surged through his hand—and the object twisted and expanded into a curved sword, humming with heat and black-steel edge.
He spun it once, sliced one of the drones out of the sky, and followed Adam into the fray.
Adam charged forward, fists glowing faint orange with heat. He slammed a punch into the first wheeled robot's torso, denting the armor with a crunch, then used the rebound to leap and uppercut a drone out of the air. His laughter echoed between the containers.
Jack followed with clean precision—dodging, slicing, striking.
Every object in his reach became a weapon. A box cutter turned into a short blade. A pipe into a staff. A wrench into a brutal kukri.
They tore through the mechanical defenses like dancers in a brutal rhythm—machine sparks replacing blood, smoke curling through the compound.
And then it stopped.
Silence again.
Both of them stood in the still aftermath, surrounded by wreckage.
Jack exhaled sharply, catching his breath.
Then… footsteps.
Not the rhythmic march of guards. These were heavier. Slower.
Wet.
A shape emerged from the shadowed corridor between two shipping containers.
Two glowing yellow eyes blinked in the dark.
Drool dripped from jagged teeth.
The dog-man Hybrid stepped into the pale light—its claws glistening, hunched forward like it was halfway between beast and shadow.
It grinned. Lips peeled back.
And then—it spoke.
"You're too late."
Jack's eyes narrowed behind the mask.
The dog-man chuckled, low and scratchy. "She's already dreaming."
Then it lunged.
Claws slashed through the air—faster than expected. Jack barely ducked in time, and Adam moved to intercept, taking the brunt of the first attack. He grunted, slid back on his heels, then stood firm again.
"I got this mutt," Adam growled. "You go."
Jack hesitated. The Hybrid was fast.
Adam cracked his knuckles. "Go find the girl, Jack. This thing's mine."
Jack turned to run—but the dog-man snarled, "You won't reach her."
From behind, the corridor pulsed with heat.
Figures emerged—twisted, melting silhouettes.
They moved like puppets—but wrong.
Fused bodies. Surgical masks half-dissolved. Their skin dripped like wax, solid and wet at once, their height stretching well past normal human proportions.
One stepped forward.
Its arms glowed red.
Then its palms opened—and a stream of liquid fire exploded from its hands.
Jack dove aside as the flame scorched the walkway. He rolled behind an overturned table, the surface blackened in seconds.
He gritted his teeth, reached into his coat, and pulled out a pen.
It glowed the moment he touched it, transforming into a small dagger with a golden edge.
He flicked his wrist, threw it low, the blade whistling under the stream of flame.
It spun, embedded in the candle-creature's lower side.
And Jack vanished.
He reappeared instantly at the spot where the dagger landed, snatching it from the air as he landed in a crouch—then ran.
Behind him, the Candle Hybrid let out a distorted shriek.
Its limbs stretched, feet melting into the floor, as it sprinted after him.
Jack didn't look back.