The smoke-filled streets that were once so quiet now chant like rolling thunder. The station where the guards operated was no longer a safe location but rather a battlefield. The place was filled with the sound of firing weapons and the clashing of blades. And Garrick stood at the front of it all.
"YES! YES! COME AT ME! OH HOW I LONGED TO PUMMEL YOU RATS INTO THE GROUND!" Garrick pulls out his rifle, shooting it towards the Dominion members. Slowly, beginning to laugh manically.
Not far from the chaos, Eryndor crouched in the shell of a collapsed building, his arm glowing beneath the torn cloth wrapped around it. He could sense the dominion advance, the roars of the fighting, and the screams of the fighting. Yet his eyes were only looking towards the horizon.
"Well, they're moving faster than I expected," Riven whispered, pacing behind Eryndor with his weapon drawn.
Eryndor didn't answer right away; instead, he continued to look at the rising smoke curling above rooftops. "We need to regroup with Liora." He turned to face Riven, looking serious.
"Like hell we are, behind us are too many Forgelings and ahead of us are those idiots at the station," Riven says, crouching, looking to Eryndor while holding his harpoon.
Eryndor looks around their surroundings, peaking out of the building.
"You might be right, and this may seem reckless, but sometimes it has to be that way," Eryndor points in the distance.
"Over there is a ladder we can use to get on the roofs; that way, we can get a better look over things," Eryndor suggests, turning back to face Riven.
"It's still too risky, Forgelings could be hot on our trail if we tried something, especially now because of that arm of yours," he mutters. Riven stands, gripping his weapon as he looks out of the building as well.
"Weren't you listening? We should take risks rather than die here." He says, running out into the open, smiling.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Riven whispers, watching as Eryndor runs into the open, quickly following behind him.
Back in the station, Garrick fends off dominion soldier after soldier.
"IS THIS ALL YOU PATHETIC MASK-BREATHERS GOT! Two men charge at Garrick, and he flings his weapon as if he were doing tricks with it, quickly shooting down the men. "Maybe it's better you guys take a nap." He laughs, looking up.
The guards and Dominion forces clashed in a storm of steel and gunfire, the echoes of battle slowly fading into scattered bursts of violence.
From the rafters above, a man in a white-and-gold cloak dropped down, landing with a crash that nearly crushed Garrick beneath him.
"You're a sneaky one! But not sneaky enough!" Garrick laughs, putting some distance between himself and the man, before wasting no time to fire at the man.
The cloaked man darted between crates and beams, moving with the wild energy of a cornered beast. Bullets sparked against metal as he vaulted higher, his boots slamming into wood and iron alike.
"DANCE! DANCE! YOU RAT! Garrick yells, laughter mixing with the storm of bullets.
Through the chaos, the man pressed a finger to his earpiece. "Status report, Nyla!" he growled, twisting to avoid another burst.
"We're holding, sir! If I had to say, we have more than half of our men engaged!" Nyla's voice crackled through the earpiece.
"Good, keep me updated then, I have some trash I need to take out here."
Garrick stops firing, and with a final leap, the man landed lightly a few feet away from Garrick. His hood falling back, revealing his sharp eyes beneath his unkempt dark hair.
"How bout you put your fancy toy away and fight me like a real man would." The man said, his voice cool despite the fight that raged around them.
"With pleasure!" Garrick throws his gun to the side, beginning to put his fist up.
"So, what's the name of the garbage I'm going to kill? Garrick asks, grinning.
"It's Corvin, Corvin Drael."
"Well then, Crovin…" Garrick lunged, his grin splitting wider. "Prepare to DIE!"
The two collided with each other with a brutal amount of force, their fists meeting like thunderclaps, marking the beginning of their battle.
Meanwhile, further away from the station, Eryndor and Riven stand on the city rooftops.
Eryndor peered across the rooftops, scanning the streets below. "Hey, we're almost there, just a bit farther to the station."
Riven slings his weapon over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing. "Then what? What happens when we get there and the Shinori and Dominion are still there, tearing each other apart?"
Eryndor lets out a slight, determined smile. "Well, then we just have to fight too. It's as simple as that."
"I thought you wanted to look for Liora," Riven mentioned, tilting his head while looking at Eryndor with his sharp eyes.
"I've reconsidered the situation, and it's in our best interest to get to the station. I'm sure she's fine anyway, knowing her, she's probably waiting there for us or something."
"Yeah, you may be right about that, but Riven sneers, "You make it sound easier than it is. Besides, we still don't know what that arm of yours can really do."
Eryndor turns to face Riven, "I'll manage, have a little more faith in me, will you?" Eryndor adjusts his mask. "I think I know what I'm getting myself into."
Riven looked at him carefully for a moment, giving a slow nod. " Fine if you say so." He glanced down. Seeing the ash-filled and shattered streets below. The streets are unrecognizable.
"Let's get moving." Eryndor urged. "We don't have time to waste."
The two launched themselves across the next gap, their boots striking the tiles with a sharp thunk. With every jump, the sound of clashing soldiers grew louder, echoing up through the city.
"How's your mask holding up?" Riven asked, keeping up the pace.
Eryndor pressed a hand to his face. "About halfway… maybe a little more."
"Good, stay sharp."
Eryndor looked down, suddenly remembering Liora. I wonder how she's holding up, but knowing her, she's probably fine. He shook his worries to the side and focused on the station ahead.
Leap after leap, the duo crossed what seems like an endless amount of buildings. The ground below seemed cartoonishly far. Eryndor's heart began to beat faster, not from the fear of falling, but from what awaited them.
The echoes of laughter and shouted taunts echoed up to their ears. "They're really going at it," Riven said, leaping across another rooftop.
Eryndor paused at the edge of the building, looking down at the station. The smoke curled the station, drifting into the streets where bodies littered the ground. Riven comes to stand next to his side, looking down as well.
"Looks bad," Riven muttered, crouching next to Eryndor.
"Whoever they are, they're really going at it." Eryndor said, crouching now.
A roar of laughter cut through the noise of gunfire and the clashing steel of blades. Two figures darted through the chaos, becoming the most noticeable on the battlefield. One moving with wild, unpredictable energy, the other precise and deliberate, almost like they were calculating every move ahead of time.
Riven's eyes followed the movement rapidly, but just barely, "I've never seen anyone fight like that… and I've had my fair share of battle."
The two crouched lower, they're hearts pounding as they watched the fight unfold below them. The smoke in the area swirled around the combatants like a storm, hiding attacks and adding to the unpredictability. Each punch and kick seemed like a bone-shattering force, and every movement seemed to be for maximum impact.
Eryndor grips the edge of the building tightly, "Whatever is happening down there, we're heading straight into it."
Riven muttered under his breath, "Who the hell are they?"
The two watched from a distance, Eryndor unconsciously gripping his glowing arm.
Another roar of laughter filled the station air, the laugh sounding like a manic who was sharp at the same time. Both of them looked down to see a man in a white shirt and black vest, and what remained of his cloak, his fists flying with reckless motions. His opponent, quieter and sharper with his movements.
Corvin dodged the volley of attacks sent his way, countering by slamming an elbow into Garrick's ribs.
Garrick staggered back, grinning. "Hey! You're not bad! Most rats crumple before me with one hit! You must got steel for bones like me! Garricked yelled, his voice carrying over the chaos.
Corvin straightened, his voice low but steady. "I don't need steel, just enough resolve to deal with people like you."
"Ooooh, so scary!" Garrick mocked, shaking his shoulder as if the pain excited him. "NOW LET'S SEE IF YOU CAN BACK THOSE WORDS UP!" He grins.
The two dash at one another again, Corvin slipping past a hook, hitting Garrick in his ribs once more. Garrick coughed, but countered with a hook to the face, sending Corvin back a little bit.
"Status report, Nyla," Corvin touched his earpiece, looking at Garrick, while wiping off some blood.
"Whatever you're doing, Corvin, you have to hurry it up! Most of our men are beginning to fall, " Nyla said, the little girl's voice coming through the earpiece speaker.
"Copy that, Nyla. Tell any remaining forces to retreat from the station. We dealt as much damage as we could."
"Yes, sir!" She said, before hanging up the connection between the two.
"Leaving so soon?" Garrick smirked, his arm gripping his chest while the other raised against Corvin.
"Lucky for you, I guess, but it's high time we get out of here." Corvin turns away from Garrick, who is now feeling the side effects from the fight.
"Wait, you wouldn't happen to have someone in your little group that goes by the name of Eryndor, do you?" Garrick pants, waiting for a response.
"What's it to you?" Corvin glanced over his shoulder, "Actually, save it, I don't care enough to hear your sob story."
Corvin dashed out of the station, signaling to his men to retreat.
Garrick falls to his knees, panting through his respirator. "This isn't over, you damn rat!" he says, barely able to get the words out.
"Now's our chance to Riven," Eryndor says, looking over to him.
Riven nods, looking over to Eryndor, "Yeah, let's go."
The two begin to make their way to the ground, preparing to move into the station…