The rain had turned the whole alley into a graveyard of neon. Steam curled from bodies and broken augments, painting the night with a sickly glow. The Circle stood scattered—Gregor bleeding from his ruined piston, Clara's zealots cut down in heaps, Sofia marked by glancing burns across her coat.
And across from us, Kade Strix hadn't even broken stride.
He looked untouchable, the chrome mask locked in its eternal grin. His rifle hummed faintly as if purring, each breath of the barrel alive with restrained violence. He wasn't fighting us like prey—he was dissecting us, move by move, shot by shot.
Gregor's roar broke the silence, guttural, raw. "Damn bastard! One bullet and he crippled my spine piston!"
Strix tilted his head, casual, voice calm. "Not crippled. Adjusted. A hound without its legs can still bite… but it's slower. Predictable."
Gregor slammed a fist into the cracked pavement, chain-axe shrieking to life. Sparks sprayed into the storm. "Then watch me tear your mask off with my teeth!"
"You talk too much," Strix replied. His rifle twitched—and Gregor staggered as another slug seared past his shoulder, leaving molten grooves in his armor.
Clara screamed, voice half hymn, half madness. Her wings of jagged steel shuddered, glowing with molten edges. "Every one of my flock you kill is an offering! Every scream, every drop of neon is for the Messiah!"
Strix's rifle barked once. Another zealot collapsed, skull split open with a hiss.
"Then consider me generous with donations," Strix said softly.
Clara wailed, her zealots rushing him with glowing blades, only to fall like wheat to a harvester. Strix didn't dodge wildly—he stepped just enough, every pivot precise, every counter-shot a punctuation mark. It wasn't a fight. It was choreography. And we were dancing to his rhythm.
Sofia slid to my side, blades unfolded, eyes flickering white. "He anticipates everything. Ninety percent prediction accuracy. If we stay fractured, Circle elimination is inevitable."
The Core in my chest burned hotter, pressing against my ribs like it wanted out. My fist tightened, steam rising as crimson sparks licked my fingers.
"Then we stop moving like prey."
Strix froze a moment, mask tilting. Then his grin glitched wider. "Oh? The monster grows teeth."
I raised my blade, crimson light spilling into the rain. "I'm not your prey."
The hunter chuckled low. "Good. Then hunt me."
His rifle cracked, bolts splitting midair, spiraling like drills through the storm.
"Sofia—right flank!" I shouted.
She was already in motion, her blades catching one slug mid-spin, sparks exploding across her arms. "Acknowledged."
"Gregor! Stay low. Don't swing until he overextends. Make him think you're slower than you are."
Gregor bared his teeth, blood mixing with rain. "Play the crippled hound? Fine. Let him think I'm broken."
"Clara—pin him left. Drive him toward Sofia."
Her eyes burned with zeal, wings rattling as she pointed her blade at Strix. "Yes, my Messiah!" Her zealots screamed their devotion, surging in blind fury, forcing Strix to pivot.
"Milo!" I barked. "Blind his sight. Scramble the mask."
The rat cackled, claws sparking across a mess of broken wires. "Hehehe… don't worry, boss. I'll make his grin stutter."
The Circle moved—not as scattered survivors, but as a pack.
Sofia's blades flashed, forcing Strix low. Clara's zealots pressed from the left, their deaths buying seconds. Gregor dragged himself forward, axe trailing in the water, pretending weakness. Milo's claws hissed sparks, holo-feeds around Strix flickering as his predictive visor stuttered.
For the first time, Strix's rhythm faltered. A half-second delay.
The Core pulsed like thunder in my veins. I lunged, crimson blade shrieking, aiming for his mask.
Strix twisted, faster than thought. My blade carved his coat open, sparks spilling from grazed plating beneath. He fired back at point-blank, the slug drilling past my ear, heat searing my skull.
We crashed together, his rifle against my monoblade, the rain exploding into steam around us. His voice came low, filtered through the mask.
"You fight better when you lead. But you're still predictable."
The Core answered him with a roar that wasn't mine.
Crimson light burst from my chest, slamming into him in a wave of raw energy. For a moment, his visor glitched, LAW-code stuttering, his mask flickering with static.
He staggered.
I drove forward, blade screaming, and sparks erupted as steel bit against steel. His rifle cracked, my blade split its barrel, the explosion throwing both of us back.
Steam blinded the alley, neon blood and rain mixing in a violent haze.
When it cleared, Strix was standing again. His coat torn, his mask cracked down the middle, the static grin broken into jagged lines.
He laughed, distorted but amused. "Finally… prey that bites back."
The Core pulsed hotter, hungrier, as if daring me to finish him.
And for the first time, Strix raised his blade, not his rifle. A long, slender monoblade unfolded from his arm, glowing pale white.
A hunter's duel. One on one.