The basement was filled with echoes of agony.
Vance's lifeless body lay on the cold metal floor, the warmth of his blood seeping into the cracks, his head severed cleanly from his shoulders. Garrick's roars shook the very walls, his throat raw as he thrashed against the metallic restraints that bound him. His muscles bulged, veins pulsing, but the steel did not yield.
Corbin and April twisted against their restraints, their ankles bound to the floor by thick bands of metal. Selene's eyes burned with rage, her breath sharp and uneven. She blew gently onto her bleeding arms, freezing the wounds shut. Her hands trembled, but not from pain—from pure, unfiltered hatred.
Dante, jaw clenched so tightly his teeth threatened to break, slammed his artifact onto the ground. Sand burst forth in a raging torrent, swirling violently as he directed it toward his teammates, attempting to free them.
Then, she moved.
The woman who had effortlessly dismantled them all. The woman who had cut down Vance without hesitation.
She stepped onto his corpse, grinding her heel against his chest as if he were nothing more than discarded trash.
Then, with an exaggerated sigh, she placed a hand over her ear. "Come on, you guys. You're being so fucking loud."
Garrick snarled, pure rage burning in his veins.
She ignored him, turning instead to Dr. Ferris, who still knelt in reverence, awaiting her orders. His body trembled, not in fear, but in worship.
"Focus on getting the Scion to completion. I'll deal with this."
Ferris bowed lower, his forehead pressing to the ground. "Yes, my lady."
She turned back to Garrick, amusement flickering behind that eerie, broken mask.
With a mere flick of her wrist, the metal constraining him surged upward, lifting him into the air. His feet dangled helplessly.
She brought him closer, her lips curling into something between a smile and a sneer.
"You and your little squad are like rats."
Her voice was almost… playful.
"Always scurrying around, destroying our bases, running the moment we get close. Do you know how annoying that is?"
She traced a single finger along his face, reveling in the fury she felt radiating off him.
"Do you know how boring it is to be in my position? No one strong enough to challenge me. No entertainment. Just dull, meaningless paperwork."
She sighed dramatically. "I should really be thanking you."
Garrick struggled, his body trembling with rage. He wanted to tear her apart, to rip through her flesh, to make her bleed for what she had done.
Then—
BOOM!
A thunderous explosion rang through the room.
The woman tilted her head slightly, and a massive 50-caliber ice bullet ripped past her cheek, shattering a portion of her mask.
A piece of it clattered to the floor.
"Get your filthy claws off our captain."
Selene stood at the far end of the room, her hands gripping a massive ice-forged sniper rifle, glowing with a dangerous purple glint.
For the first time since arriving, the woman's expression shifted.
The exposed half of her face—
Garrick's breath caught in his throat.
He knew that face.
But his mind refused to accept it.
She saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes and smiled.
"Ah… I guess the gig is up."
With a slow, deliberate motion, she placed her hand on her mask and shattered the rest of it.
Her full face was revealed.
Garrick's stomach dropped.
His mind screamed in denial.
"No…"
She laughed softly.
"Oh, Garrick. You really are a good man, aren't you?"
Her gaze held nothing but cruel amusement.
"I loved watching you play hero. Jumping in to save the day."
His hands trembled.
The mother. The desperate woman who had begged for his help.
The woman whose child had been stolen.
It had all been a lie.
She smiled wider, relishing the moment.
"I had to set the perfect trap, after all."
Her voice dripped with mock sympathy.
"I knew the moment you heard about my presence, you'd hesitate. Hide. Wait for reinforcements like the coward you are."
The reality crashed down upon him.
They had been played.
Everything—the crying mother, the abduction, the mission—had been orchestrated to lead them here.
And now, they were trapped.
BOOM!
Another shot rang out.
She didn't dodge.
Instead, she turned and caught the bullet with two fingers.
A moment later—she flicked it back.
The bullet pierced through Selene's skull.
Her head exploded into frozen shards.
Silence.
The team froze.
The scent of blood and ice filled the air.
She exhaled, shaking her head.
"She was really starting to piss me off."
Then, she smiled.
A cruel, wicked smile.
Garrick's world shattered.
April's hands tightened around her halberd.
Corbin's body trembled with unrestrained fury.
Dante's sand vibrated, his control barely holding back the storm inside him.
They couldn't think. Couldn't breathe.
Selene was gone.
Corbin breathed in sharply.
Then—he moved.
With a single, brutal motion, he used his wind to slice straight through his own ankle.
Blood splattered against the ground.
April did the same, using her flaming halberd to burn through the restraints.
Their minds were blank. There was no strategy. No plan.
Only rage.
The woman clapped her hands together.
"Now, that's more like it."
Her grin stretched wider.
"Come on then. Entertain me."
Blood pooled beneath their feet.
April and Corbin stood, breathless, fighting against their own bodies as much as they fought against her. Their missing ankles left them unbalanced, yet they did not waver. The pain was a dull roar at the edge of their minds, drowned by rage, by grief, by the unrelenting need for vengeance.
The Ashborne only smiled.
She rolled her shoulders, cracking her neck as she twirled her fingers, metal strands slithering through the air like living serpents. Yet, she didn't attack—not seriously.
She was playing.
Mocking them.
April moved first.
Her flaming halberd carved a searing arc through the air, the embers from her weapon sparking like a firestorm. She lunged, her blade seeking flesh, but the Ashborne tilted her head just enough to avoid the strike.
Too slow.
Corbin was already behind her.
A gale of wind propelled him forward, his hands ablaze with twisting fire, his speed unrelenting. He struck, a powerful wind-enhanced flame punch aimed for the side of her ribs.
She twisted her torso, dodging just enough to avoid the full force of the blow, yet some of the flames licked her cloak, scorching the fabric.
Her eyebrows rose in mild amusement.
April pressed forward.
The halberd twirled in her grip, her entire body moving in fluid, controlled arcs, every motion pushing her deeper into the attack. Corbin followed, his fire and wind blending seamlessly with April's deadly precision.
For the first time, the Ashborne moved defensively.
She raised her metallic arm, deflecting the halberd's strike as flames burst against her skin, but she didn't seem affected. Corbin's wind-enhanced strikes followed, forcing her back.
The room was a blur of searing flames and slicing winds, the sheer heat warping the air itself.
April's burning blade clashed with the Ashborne's forearm, sparks and molten steel hissing on contact. Corbin's flames exploded from below, forcing her to leap into the air.
April and Corbin didn't let up.
They moved in perfect unison. A dance of fire and steel.
Every time she dodged April's halberd, Corbin's wind pushed the weapon faster. Every time she evaded Corbin's flames, April's weapon was there to meet her.
For a moment—just a fleeting second—it almost seemed possible.
Almost.
And then—
She sighed.
A metal tendril lashed out from the floor, slamming into April's stomach, sending her skidding backward.
Before Corbin could react, sharp bands of metal shot up from the ground, slicing through the air like whips.
He barely dodged.
His only remaining foot barely touched the ground before a metallic blade followed, aiming straight for his throat.
He twisted, flames erupting around him as he redirected the metal away.
But in that moment of distraction—April was already lost.
The Ashborne moved towards her.
April tried to push herself up, her halberd still ablaze. She swung wildly.
The Ashborne caught the blade with her bare hand.
April's eyes widened.
The flames did nothing.
The Ashborne grinned.
Metal wrapped around her forearm.
It shifted. Changed. Became something monstrous.
A drill.
It whirred violently, spinning at an unnatural speed.
And then—
She punched forward.
The drill tore through April's lower jaw, shattering it instantly, pulverizing teeth and bone.
April screamed.
Blood and shattered bone sprayed into the air, her body convulsing violently as the drill tore through her throat, burrowing deeper, devouring flesh and tissue.
Her eyes—wide, filled with agony—locked onto Corbin.
Then—
The drill burst out through her back.
A sickening crunch.
A gurgled breath.
April's eyes rolled back as her body went limp.
The Ashborne ripped her arm free, letting the broken corpse slump to the ground.
Blood splattered across her face.
She licked her lips.
Corbin roared.
His body became a blur, wind and fire melding into a hurricane of destruction.
He didn't care if it killed him.
He had to kill her.
The Ashborne laughed.
She lifted her hand—and the floor exploded.
A single razor-sharp tendril of metal whipped forward, slicing through the air faster than his wind could carry him.
It slashed across his remaining foot.
Corbin collapsed.
He hit the ground, bleeding out, helpless.
And then—she pinned him down.
Ensuring he couldn't move.
Ensuring he could do nothing but stare.
Corbin's eyes locked onto Garrick.
Garrick couldn't breathe.
His best friend. His oldest friend.
Corbin's chest rose and fell, ragged, weak. He didn't blink. Didn't look away.
She wanted Garrick to see him.
One last time.
The Ashborne raised her hand.
Metal twisted, sharpened, reshaped into a single, gleaming blade.
She lowered it against Corbin's throat.
She smirked.
And with one, smooth motion—
She sliced his head clean off.
Blood sprayed in an arc, staining the ground.
His head rolled, stopping just before Garrick's feet.
His eyes remained open.
Garrick shook.
His body refused to move.
The Ashborne sighed happily.
Then, she bent down, dragging her finger through the fresh pool of blood.
She lifted it to her lips.
Licked.
She moaned.
"Delicious."
Then, her eyes slowly met Garrick's.
And he could do nothing but stare.