Squeezed between the grease smell of an Arab snack bar and a display window of dead cell phones, the steel door rested under an epileptic neon sign: "CyberCafé 24h - Fast Access".
"Is this for real?" The whisper escaped as I adjusted the backpack strap on my left shoulder. The expectation of a secret fortress collided with the reality of a bankrupt LAN gaming center facade.
Under my knuckles, the steel door vibrated with the knocks. Above, a mechanical hum announced the security camera focusing. With a heavy and definitive click, the lock gave way.
The air conditioning struck my face as soon as I entered, loaded with a chemical smell of ozone mixed with the sickly sweet scent of cheap energy drinks. There were no rows of computers for customers. Just the organized chaos of a central table buried under cables, empty pizza boxes, and glowing monitors.
"Is that the hillbilly Silas mentioned?"
Behind a wall of screens, a chair spun around. A tuft of neon-green hair crowned a pale face marked by deep dark circles. The anime t-shirt looked like it hadn't seen water in days.
"She smells like a mix of rain and manure."
"And yours smells like dirty crotch and Doritos. Show some respect." The response fired on automatic, the heritage of a mother who taught that you don't take insolence home.
The boy blinked, surprise giving way to a nasally laugh.
"I like her. I'm Glitch. Hacker, mercenary for bitcoin, and one of the guys on your side, although I'm not actually a Chosen One, just a Awakened One. Deep down, I just want not to die."
In the corner of the room, oblivious to the exchange of barbs, the dedication of a watchmaker was applied to cleaning a .38 revolver. The rigid posture betrayed years in uniform; the tired eyes betrayed what the uniform couldn't cover.
"Marco." The grunt came without him looking up. "Former Civil Police. Detective. Aureus, like you. But not a Chosen One yet, just a Awakened One."
From the back, wiping his hands on a towel, Dr. Silas appeared.
"I see introductions have been made. Dayanne, welcome to the 'Kennel'. It's our base of operations."
"Appropriate," I commented, eyes sweeping over the technological mess.
"No time for a tour." A dry click echoed as Marco snapped the cylinder into the gun. "The vibration sensor in the Praça da Sé[1] storm drain screamed. Non-human movement pattern. Large body mass."
"Umbra?" My stomach froze.
"Worse." Skinny fingers flew over Glitch's mechanical keyboard. On the larger screen, a grainy image formed. "'War Beasts'. The Malevolent's cultists are playing Frankenstein with stray dogs. They inject shadow essence until the animal turns into a guard dog from hell."
The image revealed a distorted shape: jaws that defied anatomy and spikes tearing through the animal's back.
My blood boiled. Fear was incinerated by something more primitive and professional: the veterinarian's fury.
"Are they hurting the animals?" My voice came out low, vibrating with danger.
"They're turning the animals into weapons, kid." Marco stood up, his long coat covering the holster. "Our mission is the kill."
"Not kill." Under my jacket, the phantom arm pulsed in protest. It didn't even need a question for this occasion, or if I should go. Deep down, I knew I couldn't let this happen. "The mission is to stop whoever did this."
Marco's gaze weighed on me, evaluating courage against naivety.
"First time in the field? Try not to vomit. And stay behind me."
Half an hour later, rusty metal steps led us into the city's bowels.
The stench in the storm drainage tunnels was a physical entity, a damp wall of rot invading the nostrils.
"Lights out," whispered Marco. "Glitch, night vision."
"Maxed out." The hacker adjusted goggles full of strange lenses.
Total darkness didn't exist for me. Even hidden under the fabric, my arm radiated a soft glow. The spiritual "filth" in the air made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, an aggressive static on my skin.
"There," Glitch pointed.
At the end of the tunnel, three silhouettes prowled a pile of garbage. They were Rottweilers, or what remained of them after the magical torture. Where the skin had torn, black muscles smoked. In place of eyes, red embers burned with irrational hatred.
"Shadow Hounds," Marco whispered. "Low level, high speed. Dayanne, rear guard. I take point."
The plan died before it was born. A metal can rolled across the wet concrete, kicked by Glitch's clumsy foot.
Instantly, three heads snapped around. The roar that tore through their throats wasn't canine; it sounded like metal being twisted.
"Damn it!" Bang!
Marco's shot lit up the tunnel for a split second. The projectile hit the first dog's shoulder, but the creature didn't even waver. The shadow swallowed the impact as if it were water.
The advance was too fast.
"They're going to flank!" Glitch's scream was accompanied by retreating footsteps.
A leap placed the first monster on top of Marco, teeth sinking into the detective's armed arm. A grunt of pain echoed as he tried to kick the beast. The second dog, ignoring the greater threat, sprinted in a straight line for the weakest link.
Glitch stumbled, his back hitting the dirty sewage water. The beast leaped, jaws wide aiming for the exposed jugular.
Time froze. The fear in the boy's eyes mirrored the hunger in the beast. The absence of Order in that scene was a physical offense.
The test wasn't to kill. The test was to protect.
My legs moved before thought. Personal safety was discarded; technique was forgotten. Only the imperative remained: He does not die today.
Between the jaws of the beast and the hacker's body, I threw myself. My right arm rose.
"GET AWAY!"
At the moment of collision, there was no pain of teeth tearing flesh. A golden flash exploded, turning the sewer's darkness into high noon.
CLANG!
The sound was that of a hammer striking a cathedral bell. I opened my eyes. The Shadow Hound was thrown on the ground, writhing and sizzling like meat on a hot griddle. Before me, floating in the air, the Aegis shone at maximum intensity. A perfect, mathematical, insurmountable hexagonal barrier.
The monster attempted a second strike, but its snout burned upon touching the holy light.
"Marco! Now!" The scream came out hoarse, my will holding the light structure in place.
Free from the first attacker, the detective pivoted. The sights aligned with the head of the stunned beast in front of me.
Bang.
The creature dissolved into black smoke before touching the ground. The third dog, confronted with the glow of Aureus, hesitated. It was the second Marco needed to put it down too.
Silence reclaimed the tunnel, broken only by my panting breath and the rhythmic dripping of rotten water. Slowly, the shield's light retracted, leaving only the soft outline of the phantom arm. Sitting in the filthy water, Glitch stared at me with wide eyes.
"You... you blocked a Shadow Hound head-on?" he stuttered.
My left hand reached out to pull him up.
"Back on the farm, we hold down angry bulls by hand. A smoke dog is a piece of cake."
Marco approached, hand pressing the wound on his arm. His gaze traveled from the dissolved body of the monster to my face. The habitual hardness of his eyes gave way to something new: respect.
"Good defense, rookie." The gun cylinder spun with a click. "But don't get used to it. That was just the doorman. The kennel owner is still down there."
A trembling smile, but loaded with confidence, curved my lips. There were allies. There was a purpose. And, most importantly, the certainty that my arm of light could handle the shock. But, deep down, my sadness was perceptible. It was so fast I couldn't even think and save the poor canine souls that were now gone because of malevolent selfish people.
"So let's go down." The mud was wiped from my pants with a slap. "I have a few words to exchange with whoever is mistreating these animals."
[1] Praça da Sé is the central geographical landmark of the city of São Paulo, located in the neighborhood and district of the same name. Besides being the starting point for measuring distances on the state's highways, the square houses the São Paulo Metropolitan Cathedral and has a history marked by important events and urban reforms over time.