The deep subterranean passage smelled of sulfur, pulverized rock, and fresh, coagulating blood. It was an environment meant for creatures of shadow, not for the tense procession that now moved through its echoing expanse.
Pulse walked ahead, his armor barely audible over the scrape of their boots. He moved with the quiet grace of a predator, his senses tuned to the low sounds of the earth and the movements of the three figures behind him.
Crystara followed, her posture a contradiction of high alert and casual defiance. One arm was locked around the throat of A1.
A1 was a mess. His face was a mask of purple contusions, his mouth spitting blood with every labored breath, and the crystal grip of Crystara's arm felt like a vice threatening to shatter his orbital bones.
Far behind them, obscured by the cavern's natural twists and shadows, were the Boss and A2.
The tension, thick and suffocating, was suddenly shattered by a deep groan.
The ground shuddered. This wasn't the distant rumble of settling rock; this was a visceral, violent tremor that cracked the cave floor thirty feet behind the two pursuers.
A huge mass of segmented chitin, dripping acidic slime and propelled by scores of twitching, bony legs, surged into the cavern path. It was a subterranean monster, a brute drawn by the vibrations of the intense firefight that had raged minutes earlier. It was heading straight for the Boss and A2.
Crystara didn't even turn her head. Her voice, usually laced with mockery, was sharp and purely tactical. "Deal with it!" she shouted down the passage.
The Boss, a man built like cold iron and just as expressive, simply stopped. He didn't turn or raise a weapon. He stood there, a static anomaly in the churning chaos.
The monster charged, its fangs extended, covering the distance with horrifying speed. It was about fourteen feet long and wide enough to completely block the passage.
Then, the air around the Boss shimmered.
It wasn't a visible blast or a wave of force. It was heat, distilled and absolute, contained in a perfect twelve-inch radius surrounding his body. The rock beneath his feet began to glow a sickly orange, instantly slagging into molten glass.
The charging monster never stood a chance. The instant its massive, armored carapace collided with that invisible barrier, the air screamed. Flesh blistered and popped. Chitin exploded under the instantaneous, localized heat.
The Boss didn't move. He simply stood in the center of the creature's trajectory as if waiting for a slow bus. The enormous beast was cleanly and vertically sliced in half, not by a blade, but by heat. The halves slid past him, one side falling into the molten rock pool, the other collapsing with a guttural, wet sound, its smoking internal organs spilling out onto the passage floor in a gruesome, steaming pile. The air stank of burnt fat and ozone, the smell so thick it was almost palpable.
Crystara spared a glance over her shoulder, watching the Boss step calmly over the sizzling wreckage.
"That guy is just so convenient to have," she murmured, a trace of professional awe mixed with fear coloring her voice.
Pulse nodded, his helmet obscuring his expression, though his tone was heavy. "That's the third monster that came for us. We really did make a lot of noise back there. Good thing that guy could clear the monsters with ease."
He looked at Crystara, his focused eyes visible within the visor. "By any chance, do you know anyone that has similar powers as his?"
Crystara tightened her grip on A1, earning a choked gurgle from the captive. "I think I remember a few people with similar powers. One from the other bureaus in a different city, two from different countries... but I really think none of those three that I remembered is as powerful as this Boss guy. He's refined. Focused."
"Well, they are definitely hitmen," Pulse concluded. He then focused on their hostage. He reached out and tapped the side of A1's bloodied temple, the sound echoing hollowly. "Tell, what exactly do you people want? Revara is not even with us, so what is the point of going after us?"
A1 tried to speak, spitting out a mouthful of frothy, dark blood. "We... we do not know. The clients would never say their reason, and we never asked... fuckers." His voice was wrecked, a wet rasp.
"You better stick with our deal," A1 hissed, fighting for air. "I fucking promise you my Fath—" The word cut off abruptly as Crystara's arm tensed, restricting his oxygen entirely.
Pulse waited for her to ease up. "Father, huh? So you are a son of some powerful guy or something?"
A1 sucked in a ragged breath. "My father... is powerful enough to fucking hunt both of you even on fucking Tellus. You better let me go once your ship arrives."
"Don't worry," Pulse said, low and steady. "We'll stick with our deal."
Crystara sighed, the sound heavy and weary. "Let's just get out of here. Once we get back, let's not go to other worlds for now. I don't fucking know why these assholes would even come after us."
Pulse checked his wrist-mounted device. Still nothing. "We're still deep underground. We need elevation."
They walked for another hour, the silence broken only by the sound of their boots and A1's whimpering breaths. Finally, a small shaft of genuine sunlight pierced the gloom ahead. They had reached the surface.
The exit was a narrow cleft in a dusty, scrub-covered ridge. Emerging onto the arid surface felt like stepping out of a coffin.
Behind them, safely clear of the exit, A2 asked the Boss, his voice tight with disbelief, "Are we actually just letting them go? After we all went through? What about our client?"
The Boss's gaze was fixed on Pulse and Crystara, who were scanning the familiar landscape. "I will not fucking risk the life of A1," the Boss stated, his voice flat and devoid of warmth. "We will simply say that we failed. After this is done, both you and A1 will be temporarily dismissed."
A2's blood boiled beneath his tactical gear. Why the fuck would I be dismissed? I'm not the one who fucked up and got captured. He stared at the Boss's broad, impassive back. Fucking bitch. He has always fucking favored A1. Talk about favoritism. Fucking asshole. A lifetime of resentment curdled in A2's gut.
Pulse addressed the Boss, keeping his tone conversational despite the hostage situation. "Our ship will arrive in about... a while. We had a lot of time to discuss and talk about our lives."
The Boss suddenly moved, tossing a small, sleek, advanced-looking auto-injector between Pulse and his position. It landed silently in the dust.
"Inject it into him so he can finally heal," the Boss commanded.
A2 stared at the injector, then at his superior. Asshole. Is this his way of punishing me? He could have given them that hours ago, when we first stopped. Asshole, even after this, you'd still punish me like this? What a father you are.
Pulse retrieved the device. It felt alien and sophisticated in his armored hand. "Crystara, how do I use it?"
"Just long-press that red button, swipe up, then plunge it to his legs," she instructed, her eyes never leaving the Boss. "Stick it into the muscle of his leg for ten seconds, and that's it."
Pulse followed the instructions, the device beeping softly. He rammed the tip into A1's thigh muscle. A sterile, blue light pulsed inside the injector, and A1 momentarily stiffened as a concentrated serum flooded his system. Even through the blood and grime, the deep purple bruising on A1's face seemed to instantly recede, replaced by a slightly swollen, pale tone.
The Boss took a strategic step back. "How about we part ways now?"
Crystara laughed a short, abrasive sound. "You think we're that dumb, huh? Fucking no ways that is happening unless our ship finally arrives."
She paused, adjusting her grip on A1, who was visibly recovering, though still dazed. "But let me ask you, because that man of yours is useless." She jabbed her chin toward A2. "You're the Boss, so you should already know the reason why your client asked for you guys to hunt us down."
"We do not know the reason and we won't ask for it," the Boss replied, his voice a low monotone. "Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you. This should already be common sense."
"He's right," Pulse began, logically.
Crystara instantly kicked the side of Pulse's leg with the heel of her boot, making his armor ring. "Shut up, Pulse."
She turned her attention back to the Boss. "Let's just chill then. Show me the time your ship will arrive."
"It's the same as yours," the Boss said, irritatingly calm. "I called our ship the moment there's a signal."
Crystara's eyes, usually half-lidded with boredom, widened in sudden, cold rage. She took the recovering A1 and slammed his head down onto a nearby jagged rock outcrop, not hard enough to kill, but hard enough to send a sickening crack echoing through the quiet air and plaster him with fresh blood.
"Open and throw your fucking communication device to me right fucking now," she shouted, her voice thick with fury.
The Boss stiffened. He slowly reached into a hidden pocket of his attire. Before he tossed the device, however, his thumb moved with blinding speed against its surface, removing any signs of his clients. Then he threw it.
Crystara caught it, her fingers gripping the metal so tightly it creaked. She glanced at the telemetry data. Her breath hitched, and a slow, savage grin spread across her face.
"I fucking knew it. I fucking knew it," she roared. "These asshole ships and backups are just ten minutes away, or less!"
Pulse stared at the communication device in horror. He snatched it from Crystara, turning to face the Boss. "Call off your backup or ship right now. Also, tell them to get back to base."
Crystara added, her adrenaline spiking. "I also contacted Celestial Muse about our situation."
"It's done," Pulse confirmed, his voice now switching to the cold, precise tone he used in combat. "There's only one way in and way out on this planet. Celestial Muse might just be already on the gate checking on everyone. If they see your team inbound for a pickup, they will assume a hostile invasion, not an extraction."
A2, realizing the peril, whispered urgently to the Boss. "We can handle it. I also contacted them about our situation."
The Boss's face, usually granite, twitched with extreme irritation and anger. "There's too much fucking risk." He glared at A2, a warning in his eyes, prioritizing survival over the client's money.
The Boss signaled subtly for Pulse to throw the comms device back. Pulse tossed it. The Boss caught it, flipped it open, and faced it toward Pulse and Crystara, ensuring they could hear every word.
The Boss spoke clearly into the device, his voice carrying surprising authority. "Get back to the base and pick us up when I tell you to. Hold station in geosynchronous orbit."
The strained voice of the pilot on the other end responded instantly. "Roger."
The Boss closed the communication device and tossed it back to Crystara one final time, confirming the compliance.
Crystara caught the device, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Good. Now both of you throw your communication devices, you two should fucking back up. Give us a hundred yards. You wait over there in the brush, and if I see any signal flare—" she pointed to the heavily concussed A1, who was still slumped on the rock. "—he leaves this world in pieces."
The Boss nodded once, his expression unreadable, and began to slowly retreat with A2 trailing behind him, his resentment a palpable force in the air.