Chapter 19: Device Hunt Intensifies
The Foundry's rooftop was a jagged ledge, its concrete rough with gravel, the night air sharp with the bite of autumn and the acrid sting of smoke from distant fires. Luke stood at the edge, his sneakers grinding against the grit, his jacket flapping in the wind, a faint coffee stain on the cuff catching the moonlight's pale glow. He popped a piece of gum, the mint's sharp snap a fleeting anchor against the panic clawing at his chest, his fingers fidgeting with his cracked phone, its screen flickering like a dying ember. Slade's bombs are a spiderweb across Starling, and one wrong move collapses the city. The skyline sprawled below, a fractured mosaic of flickering lights and shadowed ruins, the wail of sirens and the groan of strained infrastructure a relentless pulse in his ears. His reflection in a nearby skylight was haggard—eyes shadowed, hair mussed, jaw tight, the weight of lives pressing against his ribs like a vice.
The System flared, its interface a cool pulse in his mind, slicing through his fear like a beacon in a storm.
[SYSTEM: DAILY ROLL ACTIVATED: FALCON FLIGHT (FACE 6)]
[SYSTEM: POWER ACTIVATED: WIDE-AREA SURVEY. STAMINA DRAIN: MODERATE]
Luke launched into the sky, the wind whipping his face, stinging his eyes, the city blurring into a chaotic tapestry of neon and shadow below. His Gadgeteer goggles hummed, their lenses amplifying his vision, pinpointing the faint glow of seismic devices scattered across Starling's infrastructure. "Felicity, zero in on secondary targets—water treatment plants, power grids, not the main pillars," he barked into his comms, his voice steady despite the altitude, the static crackling like a distant fire.
Felicity's voice was frayed, her typing a frantic rhythm. "Luke, it's a maze! These bombs are playing hide-and-seek, and I'm losing!"
He dove low, the air thick with the scent of oil and rust, his goggles locking onto a cluster of devices near a power plant, their hum a menacing heartbeat. His fingers danced over his utility belt, pulling a high-frequency EMP pulse rigged from salvaged tech—a tangle of wires and a microchip buzzing faintly. He aimed, the device sparking as it disabled a cluster, the silence a sharp relief, though his stamina burned like a fraying fuse, his breath hitching as he pushed on.
[SYSTEM: GADGETEER DISABLE ATTEMPT.]
[SYSTEM: MASTERY UPDATE: FALCON FLIGHT +10% (CRITICAL ACCURACY).]
He swept across the city, disabling two more clusters, his movements a blur, the wind tearing at his jacket, his gum snapping loudly as a defiant tic. Three down, too many left. Slade's playing for keeps. The ground shuddered, a grinding roar splitting the night as the third seismic wave erupted, the city trembling like a wounded beast, buildings swaying, glass shattering in a cacophony below.
"Luke! South Bridge is going down!" Oliver's voice screamed through the comms, the screech of tearing metal a jagged undercurrent.
Luke's heart lurched, his goggles highlighting a massive humming sphere embedded in the bridge's suspension cable anchor, its pulse a death knell. Landing was impossible; shooting risked collapse. He phased through the steel, the quantum shift a cold jolt, his breath catching as he reached the emitter, its heat searing his palms. He twisted his wrench, the metal slick with sweat, disabling the device, but the bridge groaned, cracks spiderwebbing, cars screeching as drivers fled in panic.
[SYSTEM: VISION PHASING ACTIVATED.]
[SYSTEM: POWER ACTIVATED: PHASING ACCESS. STAMINA DRAIN: HIGH.]
The structure buckled, cables snapping like whipcracks. Luke summoned Mystic Arts, orange energy lines weaving through the cables, the air crackling with heat, his chest burning as he poured everything into holding the bridge together, his vision blurring, his knees trembling under the strain, the weight of lives pressing against his soul.
[SYSTEM: MAGIC STABILIZE.]
[SYSTEM: POWER ACTIVATED: MYSTIC ARTS. STAMINA DRAIN: CRITICAL]
[SYSTEM: ENERGY DRAIN: CRITICAL. STAMINA DEBUFF: SEVERE.]
He phased out, collapsing onto the asphalt, its grit biting his palms, his breath ragged, the gum stuck to his teeth, the city's pulse pounding in his ears. "Quake sequel's done," he gasped, his voice hoarse, a weak grin breaking through the pain. "Someone get me a nap and a medal."
Back in the Foundry, the air was heavy with antiseptic and the bitter tang of Felicity's coffee, the monitors' hum a low growl in the dim light. Luke sat hooked to an IV, the needle pinching his arm, his sneakers scuffing the concrete, a candy wrapper crinkling as he fidgeted, his body a map of aches. The team gathered, their faces etched with exhaustion—Oliver's green leather scuffed, his bow slung across his back; Sara's baton twirling slowly, her blonde hair loose; Diggle's fists clenched, his eyes dark with resolve. Luke's empathy pulsed, soothing the room's lingering shock, his voice weak but steady. "Slade's quakes were a feint to spread us thin. His real play's the Mirakuru army, and Isabel's HQ is ground zero."
[SYSTEM: EMPATHY MOTIVATE TEAM.]
[SYSTEM: EVOLUTION POINTS GAINED: +20 EP.]
He leaned back, the chair creaking, his fingers tracing the IV line, its plastic cool against his skin. "We need Nyssa's League. Hit Isabel's base, stop the Mirakuru, end this. Time to play our truce-or-treat card."
Felicity's glasses glinted, her voice sharp but shaky, her ponytail bouncing. "You're pitching a team-up with assassins? That's a wild playlist, Luke."
He grinned, popping another candy, the wrapper crinkling in his pocket. "Gotta keep it spicy, Overwatch. Let's make this montage legendary."
Sara smirked, her baton pausing. "You're insane, Cupid. I'm in."
[SYSTEM: WEAVING POWER SPEND (MENTAL REHEARSAL FOR COMBAT).]
The Foundry's hum mingled with the city's distant pulse—sirens, the clatter of debris—a call to the raid on Isabel's HQ, a fragile alliance with Nyssa the only path to stopping Slade's endgame.
To supporting Me in Pateron .
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