Explosions, chaos, noise, madness… Guided by the shadow, Danan wove through the human tide, glancing at the limp Tefira as he cut down Crucible members blocking his path. Spurting blood stained his armor crimson, splattering Tefira’s pale cheeks.

  Delaying Damocles… The human bombs disrupting his bio-sensors were only temporary. No method could fully restrain or neutralize the undercity’s most ferocious, fully mechanized madman. Scattered flesh and warm blood rained down, hearts still twitching from brain signals. Damocles’ cutting-edge bio-sensors detected the faintest vital signs, his semi-mechanized brain relaying data directly to his optic nerves. Simply put, escaping or being overlooked by a lunatic like Damocles required death itself.

  Shadows exploded, obliterated without a trace. Humans bearing the same tattoos as the Parade of the Dead’s members threw themselves at Damocles’ electromagnetic barrier, burning as they pressed detonation switches, embracing death. Perhaps due to stimulants, their pupils were dilated to the extreme, showing no fear—rather, they seemed to revel in it.

  “Don’t worry about them,” the shadow said.

  “…”

  “They’re just our debtors. The death of fools who agreed to our terms is worthless, meaningless. Relic hunter, do your job.”

  “You’re—”

  From the Parade of the Dead? The question Danan was about to voice was, as the shadow said, meaningless. The entity controlling the debtors’ physical and mental freedom was the Parade itself.

  What promises or sweet lies had they spun? What words had they whispered to debtors standing at despair’s edge, clinging to hope’s precipice? Thinking about it was pointless. Surely, the Parade had forced absurd, unequal contracts. Their methods were rooted in ultimate greed and secrecy—gold-hungry ghosts sniffing for wealth at the undercity’s feet. Questioning their humanity was futile.

  “Tefira…” Danan began.

  “What?” the shadow replied.

  “She’s unharmed, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “If she’s got even a scratch, you’ll make an enemy of the undercity’s most troublesome force.”

  “Got it.”

  Ignoring the shadow’s anger-laced voice, Danan reached the pleasure district’s exit, catching a glimpse of the steel giant engulfed in flames. He froze, breath catching.

  A red-hot electromagnetic barrier and charred flesh. Damocles, his claw humming with blood and meat clinging to it, deployed his back boosters, charging with a warped grin and a maddened roar. Chasing him was Aeshma, the Empress of Debauchery, carried on her members’ palanquin, heedless of her burning, ash-choked pleasure district.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “…Hey,” Danan said.

  “What? Forget them—”

  “No.”

  Those two… Enemies who reveled in madness had to be eliminated. Even if not killed, he needed to show enough force to make them hesitate, or he’d die—miserably, dignity shattered, life lost. There was no other way but to fight. Handing Tefira to the shadow, Danan linked with Nephthys. “Activate Lumina’s bugs. We’re fighting,” he muttered.

  “Stop this madness. A relic hunter like you can’t possibly match them,” the shadow warned.

  “Really?”

  “You sure about this? Leaving her with me? I’m not guaranteed to be your ally—or the Parade’s. You certain?”

  “Danan! Don’t do this!” Tefira’s voice rang through the neural link. “My brother’s right! Fighting Damocles and Aeshma is insane!”

  Brother… Tefira’s cry confirmed it. The shadow was her brother, Danan’s client. The risk of harm from him was low.

  “Danan! Stop! You can’t survive against two major leaders! Retreat now! We can plan later—” Lils shouted.

  “No, Lils. If I don’t fight here, if I don’t drive them back now, it’s meaningless. Surviving now doesn’t guarantee I’ll live later. There’s no guarantee, right? It’s live or die—only two choices. So I’ll kill them. Those lunatics,” Danan said quietly, his voice firm, to Lils over the comms.

  “Go,” he told the shadow. “Take Tefira and run in the opposite direction. I’ll handle Damocles and Aeshma.” He sprinted toward the dark cluster of buildings.

  “…”

  Wasn’t this relic hunter the type to sacrifice others without hesitation to save his own skin? The shadow, who’d long monitored Danan and studied his ways, frowned, puzzled.

  “…Brother,” Tefira’s voice came through.

  “…”

  “I have a request. Is that okay?”

  Switching the neural link. The shadow listened to his sister’s voice, nodding slightly.

  “Please help Danan. I’m begging you.”

  For his beloved sister, he’d do anything. Tefira’s wishes were supreme, an innocent prayer with the power to sway his actions. Seeing her tears would drive him to writhe in agony, spilling blood tears and directing molten hatred at this warped world.

  “Brother, please. Help Danan…”

  “I understand, Tefira. I feel the same,” the shadow said.

  A lie. Danan’s life was worth less than scrap paper. His death wouldn’t hurt the shadow’s pockets—better yet, it could secure the undercity’s top information technician. Danan was an iron fence before a goldmine, an irritating obstacle. The shadow loathed him, found him repulsive, yet knew his troublesome nature made him hard to kill outright.

  But… If Tefira, the supreme innocent, the purest of beings, wished for his aid, that changed everything. For her, the shadow would twist his very existence, shatter it to pieces. Born without sight, smell, or touch, her life reliant on mid-level city doctors, he’d discard pride for her sake. For his only kin, he’d drink mud, lick the boots or worse of arrogant mid-level citizens.

  Everything he was, a lone white lily blooming in a scorched wasteland—his sister, Tefira. For her, he’d become a dog. Materia, leader of the Parade of the Dead, knew how to reshape himself.

  Pulling a communicator from his pocket, Materia spoke. “It’s me. Gather all available weapons. Support the relic hunter, Danan. Mobilize defaulted debtors to the designated location. Understood?” He issued orders to his members, exhaling deeply.

  “Thank you, Brother! Um, I’ll give you a shoulder massage later!” Tefira said.

  “Thanks, Tefira, but rest first. It’s been a rough day—you must be exhausted.”

  “But Danan—”

  “It’s fine. You don’t need to worry anymore.”

  With that, Materia injected a sedative into Tefira’s neck, turning his gaze to the roaring cluster of buildings.