THE SIGNAL
The Atlantean transit-current released them at the shoreline, the water parting in a low surge before collapsing back into the sea. The X-Periments stepped onto broken concrete beneath a ruined overpass, fog rolling across the wet asphalt. The surface world felt colder, heavier—like the air itself remembered what had happened here.
Stryke moved forward first, scanning the toppled vehicles and collapsed guard rails. "Eyes open. We stay tight until we confirm the area."
The team spread into a loose formation. Elle kept Vex close, feeling the faint magical ripple still clinging to her after the Atlantean flare. Shade drifted along the edge of the group, quiet as a shadow. Surge paced with restless footwork, tiny pressure pops cracking under each step. Bul trudged like a walking wall. Alloy walked at the rear, calm but alert, skin shifting faintly between flesh and steel.
Then Alloy stopped.
Not slowed.
Not hesitated.
Stopped cold.
Stryke turned instantly. "Report."
Alloy's expression sharpened as he listened—really listened—to disturbances only his enhanced senses could catch.
"…A fight," he said quietly. "Close. One human. Multiple hostiles."
A beat. "Reapers."
Surge's fists clenched. "Finally."
Stryke held up a hand. "Direction?"
Alloy pointed toward a fractured stretch of elevated highway half-collapsed onto the sand. "Northwest. A few hundred meters. Maybe less."
Elle stepped forward. "Then we split here."
Stryke met her eyes, the mutual understanding immediate. She was the other leader—no debate needed.
Elle continued, "I take Vex and Shade. We finish the mission."
Shade didn't speak, simply gliding into position beside her. Vex steadied herself with a breath, teleportation hum warming behind her ribs.
Stryke nodded. "Good. Stay coordinated."
He turned to his half of the team.
"Alloy, Surge, Bul—you're with me."
Bul cracked his knuckles. "Hope whoever's out there is still breathing."
Alloy's head tilted slightly, listening again. "They are. But they won't be for long."
Surge grinned. "Then let's go save 'em."
"Quiet approach," Stryke snapped.
Surge's grin didn't fade. "Quiet-ish."
The team split—
Elle, Shade, and Vex slipping like specters into the ruins toward their objective,
while Stryke, Alloy, Surge, and Bul moved toward the faint tremors of combat echoing through the broken city.
A distant shockwave rippled across the crumbling asphalt.
This time, they all felt it.
---
ELLE'S TEAM — THE APPROACH
The shockwave faded behind them, but Elle didn't allow even a glance back.
"Keep pace," she murmured, leading Vex and Shade through a narrow corridor of collapsed storefronts.
Shade moved ahead without sound, weaving around fallen stone and rusted signs. "No movement close-by," she said quietly. "This district's been dead awhile."
The city felt tired—hollow buildings leaning at uneasy angles, windows jagged like broken teeth, air carrying the faint chemical sting of old fires. Vex stayed close behind Elle, her hands unconsciously hovering near her ribs as if steadying something unseen.
Elle slowed only when the relay tower came into sight, jutting from the skyline like a fractured antenna. Bent, scorched, but undeniably intact.
"Shade," Elle said.
Shade phased halfway into a concrete pillar, then out again. "Interior's quiet. Structure's unstable but entry's clear."
Elle nodded. "Move."
They crossed a plaza littered with overturned benches and shattered statues. The air was still—too still. Even the dust seemed reluctant to settle.
Vex paused at the base of the tower, fingertips brushing a twisted support beam. She didn't know why the metal felt warm. Or why her pulse synced to something beneath her feet.
Elle noticed the hesitation. "You're with me, Vex."
"I'm here," Vex whispered, and followed her inside.
---
STRYKE'S TEAM — THE HUNT
On the far side of the ruins, Stryke's boots hit the ground in steady rhythm, the other three keeping pace behind him. He hadn't asked Alloy to slow down—the big hybrid moved quietly for someone made of metal and muscle.
They crossed an open intersection where a bus lay crumpled against a wall, then slipped into a shadowed alley thick with hanging cables and cracked pavement.
Stryke lifted a hand.
"Alloy."
Alloy paused, eyes narrowing.
"What do you have?" Stryke asked.
Alloy's voice remained low. "Closer now. Metal-on-metal. Frequent impact intervals. One individual… holding out but fading."
Surge cracked his neck with a grin. "About damn time."
Bul rolled his shoulders. "Just point me at whatever's hitting things."
Stryke didn't look back. "No lost motion. Move."
They cut through the alley, debris crunching underfoot. The deeper they pushed, the more the ruins shifted—scorch marks, collapsed walls, signs of a recent clash. The tension in the air grew thicker with each turn.
Then another impact rattled a nearby storefront window.
Surge's grin sharpened. "Found you."
Stryke raised a hand again—this time not to stop them, but to signal formation.
"Stay tight," he said. "We don't know what we're walking into."
They rounded the corner together.
And the sounds of a brutal fight filled the street ahead.
---
WHAT THEY FIND
The street ahead looked like a battlefield carved into the earth.
Pavement split into jagged seams.
Fragments of rebar jutted upward like spears.
A crushed sedan burned silently against a toppled light post.
And in the center of it all—
a lone figure staggered backward under the force of a Reaper's strike.
The man moved fast despite the damage he'd taken; his arm—metal, sleek, unmistakably advanced—sparking from repeated blows. He threw himself into a roll, came up swinging with what remained of a rifle's stock, and cracked it against a Reaper's head.
The machine didn't flinch.
Stryke lifted a fist, signaling the team to halt just behind the rubble. Alloy crouched beside him, gaze fixed, muscles locking into focus. Surge shifted from foot to foot, fists clenched, the air around him trembling with barely-leashed bursts of motion. Bul exhaled slowly through his nose, an animal calm settling into him as violence approached.
Stryke kept his voice low.
"Human. Combat-trained. He's not one of ours."
"Arm's cybernetic," Alloy murmured. "High-end. Military or black-ops."
Surge snorted. "Whoever he is, he's either real brave or real stupid."
The man lunged again—
and the Reaper met him mid-charge.
The clash echoed through the dead district, the impact throwing the stranger across the asphalt. He hit hard, rolled onto one knee, and raised a sidearm left-handed.
Bul frowned. "He's not lasting another minute."
Stryke's jaw tightened. "No. He's not."
But he didn't move yet.
Something about the attacking Reaper wasn't right.
Most Reapers were uniform, clinical, efficient.
This one… wasn't.
Its frame was broader, more stable.
Its movements—precisely calculated, almost familiar.
And strapped to its arm—round, gleaming, unmistakable—
—a shield.
Not Reaper-made.
Not alloyed.
Not corrupted.
A perfect disc of vibranium.
The stranger dove as the shield sliced through the air, shearing a concrete barrier cleanly in half. He scrambled for cover, breath sharp with pain, cybernetic fingers twitching from overuse and stress.
Surge whispered, eyes wide, "No way. That's—"
"Quiet," Stryke snapped.
His heartbeat slowed.
He assessed distance, cover, timing, vector of threat.
The Reaper lifted the shield again.
And that was enough.
Stryke spoke without looking at the others.
"Alloy, you're front. Bul, right flank. Surge—hold until I tell you."
Surge grinned like a wolf. "Finally."
Alloy rose, metal skin flowing into hardened plates, wings stretching with a cold mechanical hiss.
Stryke's eyes sharpened into a razor focus.
"On me."
They stepped out from behind the rubble as one.
The Reaper turned toward them, red eyes glowing with cold, calculated recognition.
The fight was no longer one-sided.
It had become a battlefield.
---
THE ENGAGEMENT
The shield-bearing Reaper pivoted toward the newcomers with mechanical precision, its movements smooth as a blade sliding free of a sheath. The soldier—bruised, bleeding, barely on his feet—looked up sharply as Stryke's team stepped into view.
Stryke planted one foot forward, posture narrowing into a firing stance even without a weapon in hand. "Alloy. Go."
Alloy launched first.
Metal spread across his body like quicksilver armor, wings snapping open with a metallic crack. He closed the distance in seconds, fist colliding with the Reaper's chestplate in a shockwave of force.
The Reaper slid back several feet, boots gouging trenches in the asphalt—but it did not fall.
Surge laughed. "Oh, hell yes—my turn!"
"Not yet," Stryke growled.
The Reaper responded instantly, slamming its shield upward in a brutal uppercut that Alloy barely blocked with a braced forearm. The vibranium disc rang with a sound that vibrated the ground. Alloy gritted his teeth, wings flexing as he shoved back, muscles locking, metal grinding.
Bul barreled in next, feet cracking the pavement with every step. He hit like a collapsing wall, grabbing the Reaper around the waist and dragging it backward. The machine twisted, servos whining, and drove a knee into Bul's ribs hard enough to fracture concrete beneath him.
Bul staggered—but only for a second. Then he grinned.
"Finally. Something that hits like it means it."
Stryke advanced at a measured pace, every step precise. His eyes tracked the machine's movements, calculating angles, pattern shifts, timing.
The soldier saw them moving, stunned confusion crossing his dirt-streaked face. "You—what are—"
A Reaper blade snapped toward him.
Alloy broke formation.
He lunged, grabbed the soldier by the collar, and yanked him aside just as the blade pierced the pavement where his chest had been.
"Stay down," Alloy said, voice low, almost gentle despite the metal edge beneath it.
The soldier's breath stuttered—he'd never seen anything like Alloy's shifting steel skin, the wings, the eyes like burning silver.
But there was no time to speak.
The Reaper lunged with the shield again.
This time Stryke moved.
He slid beneath the arc of the shield, boots skidding, bracing one hand against the asphalt as a beam of crimson energy fired from his eyes—short, concentrated, controlled. The blast hit the Reaper's wrist joint, knocking the shield off-line long enough for Bul to seize its torso and hurl it bodily into a collapsed sedan.
Metal shrieked. The car folded like paper.
Surge cracked his knuckles. "Can I go now?"
"Go," Stryke said.
Surge exploded forward.
Every footstep detonated in a small kinetic burst, launching him faster and faster until he slammed into the Reaper with enough force to crater the ground beneath them. Sparks sprayed across the street. Surge—feral grin wide—hammered blow after blow into the machine's head and chest, each strike propelled by tiny controlled explosions ripping from his heels, elbows, and knees.
The Reaper grabbed his arm mid-strike.
Surge snarled. "Let go—!"
The machine hurled him across the street and into a concrete wall. It cracked from the impact, dust raining around him.
Surge shook it off, hair wild. "Okay. I like you."
The Reaper rose from the crater, shield snapping back into its grip with magnetic lock. Its red eyes flickered—analyzing, adapting, preparing.
Stryke stepped forward.
"Alloy. Upper flank."
Alloy's wings spread.
"Bul. Anchor."
Bul stomped into stance.
"Surge—hit when I break guard."
Surge wiped blood from his lip, smiling. "With pleasure."
The Reaper charged.
The X-Periments met it head-on.
---
TEAM STATUS LOG
Post-Engagement Synchronization: Recorded
Network Link: 22% → 24%
Mission Integrity: Active
Relay Tower Objective: In Progress
Secondary Event: Human combatant encountered
---
Alloy — Magnetic Node
Evolution Level: 1.05
Stability: 76%
Combat Note: Magnetic responses increasing under pressure.
System Gain: Minor reinforcement to structural plating.
Stryke — Tactical Node
Evolution Level: 1.02
Stability: 94%
Combat Note: Engagement efficiency elevated.
System Gain: Target prediction refinement improved.
Surge — Kinetic Node
Evolution Level: 1.04
Stability: 87%
Combat Note: Controlled explosion output rising.
System Gain: Short-burst propulsion threshold extended.
Bul — Titan Node
Evolution Level: 1.01
Stability: 97%
Combat Note: Impact resistance holding at peak.
System Gain: Minor density modulation during anchor stance.
Shade — Stealth Node
Evolution Level: 1.03
Stability: 93%
Technical Note: Environmental phasing stable in ruined terrain.
System Gain: No fluctuations detected.
Elle — Elemental Node
Evolution Level: 1.03
Stability: 90%
Elemental Note: Atmospheric responses steady.
System Gain: Enhanced control during stress events.
Vex — Hex Node
Evolution Level: 1.21
Stability: 83%
Arcane Note: Hex Node balanced under field conditions.
System Gain: Minor attunement to ambient energies.
---
Mission Update
Relay Tower Team: Proceeding
Engagement Team: Combat unresolved
Note: Unknown hostile variant identified wielding vibranium shield