The searing heat scorched Danan’s armor, his eyes burning with madness, craving death and vengeance.

  A small missile slammed into the building’s outer wall. Concrete shards stabbed into Danan’s side, blood spraying into the air. Roaring like a feral beast cornering prey, Damocles deployed chain Gatlings from his side armor, pulverizing nearby structures. His boosters flared, launching him skyward. Locking onto Danan hiding in the building’s gap with mechanical eyes, he targeted both him and the lurking Crucible members with his Multi-Targeting System (MTS).

  “Get blasted, Danan!” Damocles bellowed.

  A falling meteor—the description fit. The heavy hum of machinery, the roar of an assembling mega-cannon, the destructive energy pulsing from Damocles’ half-fused mechanical heart. A perfect blend of relic technology and undercity science, his hyper-efficient energy circuits stripped away waste and irrationality. The incomplete war machine aimed its massive rear-mounted laser cannon at the buildings, grinning grotesquely.

  Blast away… He was right. If that fired, death was certain. Danan had to intercept or die. Glancing at Damocles maintaining his firing stance mid-air, Danan gritted his teeth, then shifted his gaze to Aeshma, who watched him with a rapturous expression.

  “…”

  Damocles didn’t attack Aeshma. Why? Simple—her name wasn’t on his revenge list. No matter how inflated his bloodlust, he understood that irrelevant people weren’t worth targeting.

  So, Danan leaped from the building’s gap, bullets from the chain Gatling piercing him as he closed in on Aeshma, cutting down her guards.

  “You want me too, Black Man?” Aeshma purred.

  “Who’d want you, whore?” Danan spat.

  “How cruel.”

  You’re a shield. A meat wall to divert the madman’s killing intent. That’s why I haven’t killed you yet. I’ll keep you alive. Neutralize Damocles, drive him back, then kill you. Whether she sensed Danan’s intent or acted on a whim, Aeshma flashed a theatrical smile, pulling him close and pressing his face into her ample chest.

  “Good boy… like an adorable baby. You want to live, don’t you, Black Man?”

  Disgusting.

  “But living is painful, isn’t it? It’s okay to escape the pain. Run, hide, cry—it’s fine. I won’t judge you.”

  Shut up.

  “If I… harmed Damocles right now, what do you think would happen?”

  “—!?”

  His simplified thoughts and numbed brain cells snapped back to clarity, pulling Danan’s consciousness from the air’s narcotic haze. Her sweet whispers and mad saint-like embrace—Aeshma’s otherworldly beauty was a death-dealing abyss. Forcing strength into his limp limbs, Danan tore himself from her, eyeing Damocles redirecting energy to another weapon.

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  Overwhelmingly outmatched. Absurd. Not even a fight. No time to plan the next move, only to react on the spot. Aeshma’s mind-melting scent, Damocles’ cataclysmic destruction—what good were all his tools? How could he kill two reigning madmen? Groaning in despair and pain, Danan reached for the retreating Aeshma, screaming as Gatling bullets tore through him.

  “Danan! Fight me like before, with everything you’ve got!” Damocles roared. “Kill or be killed! You’re not some miserable, meaningless trash, are you? Kill me, Danan! I’ll kill you! Hurry… HURRY, HURRY, HURRY!”

  “Damocles… Man of recklessness, won’t you look at me?” Aeshma cooed.

  “As if I’d have business with a filthy shitbucket like you! Go spread your legs for some random guy and pop out a kid, scum!” Damocles spat.

  No matter how viciously insulted, Aeshma’s heart remained unshaken. Her soul burned for Damocles’ fiery passion. No amount of denial or rejection could break her ecstatic expression.

  A sadist and masochist merged in madness. To sate endless desire, she embraced all, swallowing individual reason in a vortex of lust. Leading the Crucible, her drug-fried brain unleashed desire, yet she relentlessly craved Damocles, the embodiment of ultimate individualism.

  If only… these two would kill each other. That’d be ideal for Danan. A mere strongman couldn’t match leaders who commanded masses. His tools and cards were limited, his trump card a double-edged blade, meaningful only at the brink, when all options were exhausted.

  “…Lils,” Danan muttered, blood flowing, slowing the Lumina bugs’ repairs as he connected to Lils.

  “Danan! Stop this insanity!” she shouted.

  “…I need the surroundings. Geographic… detailed info.”

  “To escape, right!? That’s the plan, isn’t it!?”

  “…No.”

  A gasp echoed in his earpiece. A wordless sound of disbelief, impossibility.

  Even if he escaped, the threat would haunt him like a shadow. He had to crush them completely, thoroughly. Fleeing changed nothing. Kill or be killed.

  “I’ll kill them… Make them regret baring their fangs at me,” Danan growled.

  “With that voice… Don’t be stupid, Danan! Retreat!” Lils pleaded.

  His body partially restored, Danan stood, staggering toward Aeshma. Like a newborn fawn, barely able to walk. Pitiful, pathetic. Aeshma approached slowly, embracing him gently.

  “You can give up. It’s okay. Cast off the reason binding you and live freely in this painful world. Right, Black Man?”

  “…”

  “I have a proposal. Be mine. I’ll take your pain, suffering, and worries. In return, be live bait to lure Damocles. Please, Black Man.”

  “…Wha—”

  “What?”

  “Don’t be stupid, you damn bitch!”

  In an instant, Danan slipped behind Aeshma, locking her arm and aiming his mechanical arm at Damocles.

  “Lils! Send the surroundings!” he shouted.

  “—!”

  The rapid clatter of a keyboard echoed through the comms. His goggles displayed a 3D map of the buildings.

  “Nephthys!”

  “Understood. Bio-signs and hostile detection complete. 200 hostiles, 100 unidentified,” Nephthys reported.

  Twenty snipers in the buildings, 100 standing inside and out, 180 approaching the combat zone… The narcotic air clouded his mind, vision warping. But his burning survival instinct overwhelmed it.

  The old man who raised Danan said raising a hand to a woman, bending her to your will, made you human trash, a beast. But a woman threatening your life was worse. Never misjudge life’s priorities—your own comes first. Tightening his grip, breaking Aeshma’s arm, Danan shouted, “Shoot! I’ll kill her if you do!”

  “…”

  “Come out, all of you! Now!”

  “It’s pointless,” Aeshma said.

  “What—”

  A chill ran down his spine. Despite her broken arm, the pain surely searing her brain, the beauty smiled, freezing Danan’s blood.

  “Because…”

  Everyone, everyone, is mad, broken. With a seductive yet childlike smile, Aeshma let out a high-pitched, mocking laugh.