"Let's make peace and talk this out, or I stab your brain and kill you, and later kill your little sister over there," Michael said, the tip of the Shimobe Blade hovering just centimeters above James's forehead. A bead of sweat rolled down James's temple as he stared at the crimson-tinged metal that threatened to end his life in an instant.
Violet's hands trembled slightly as she lowered her plasma guns. The weapons, still warm from rapid firing, hummed with residual energy. She looked at her brother pinned helplessly to the ground, then back at the Crimson Angel—the infamous vigilante they had been hunting. His eyes glowed with an unsettling crimson light, but something in them didn't match the ruthless killer described in the bounty notices.
"Let's listen to him, brother," she said, her voice softer than before. "He is the Crimson Angel—maybe he's not the villain everyone claims he is. If he wanted us dead, we would be already."
James remained still, acutely aware of the blade's proximity to his skin. His chest rose and fell with labored breaths as he considered their options. Finally, he swallowed his pride. "Fine. Let's talk."
Michael studied James for a moment longer before withdrawing his sword in a fluid motion. The blade gleamed as it caught the dim light of the Undercity, its edge still sharp enough to slice through metal with minimal resistance. He stepped back, allowing the defeated bounty hunter to rise.
James moved cautiously, wincing as pain shot through his injured shoulders. He deactivated his gauntlets, and the blue energy that had been pulsating through them gradually dissipated. The weapons reverted to their dormant state, resembling ordinary metallic gloves rather than the devastating weapons they had been moments ago.
Violet approached her brother, her movements still unnaturally quick despite having removed the enhancement orbs from her guns. She holstered the weapons in the custom holders strapped to her thighs, the metal clicking satisfyingly into place. Her eyes, full of concern, scanned James for serious injuries.
"Why are you really after me?" Michael asked, sheathing his sword with practiced precision. His crimson eyes studied them intently, searching for deception. "Tell me your story. I can't afford to take the lives of normal-minded people again."
The siblings exchanged a glance, a silent communication born from years of depending only on each other.
James furrowed his brow, confusion momentarily replacing his wariness. "What do you mean by 'normal-minded people'?"
"I'll explain," Violet interjected, placing a gentle hand on her brother's shoulder. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the readiness to fight again if necessary. "You should sit down and rest, James. Those wounds need time to heal, even with my abilities."
James reluctantly lowered himself to the ground, leaning against a chunk of debris from their battle. His eyes never left Michael, tracking every subtle movement of the Crimson Angel.
Violet took a deep breath before beginning. The memories were painful, but perhaps sharing them might save their lives. "Our father was a scientist—wealthy, brilliant, and utterly devoid of conscience. He didn't marry our mother out of love; he selected her for her genetic traits. He had children solely to experiment on them, to create the perfect biological weapons."
Her voice grew distant, as if speaking from another time. "From the moment we were born, we became his test subjects. Our earliest memories aren't of toys or bedtime stories—they're of cold metal tables, blinding lights, and the sting of needles. While other children learned to walk and talk, we learned to endure pain."
James stared at the ground, his jaw clenched tightly. Michael remained silent, allowing her to continue.
"By the time I was five, I had undergone seventeen major surgeries without anesthesia. Father believed pain would 'strengthen the specimens.' James received even worse treatment—they removed parts of his skeleton and replaced them with synthetic materials when he was only seven." Violet's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "We weren't children to him—just experiments with designation numbers instead of names."
Michael's expression softened slightly, understanding dawning in his crimson eyes.
"Our mother died when I was six—not from natural causes, but because she tried to help us escape. Father..." Violet's voice broke. "Father used her as the final test subject for his neural interface technology. The experiment failed, and her brain... it just shut down while we were forced to watch."
James looked up, his eyes hardening with the memory. "When I turned thirteen, something in me snapped. During one of the procedures, I broke free. The enhancements they'd given me made me stronger than they anticipated. I killed our father first—crushed his skull with these same hands." He looked down at his gauntlets. "Then I eliminated every scientist in that facility, one by one. Some begged for mercy, but I remembered how they had ignored our pleas for years."
"He came for me last," Violet continued. "Broke through three reinforced doors to reach my containment cell. We escaped together, but not before downloading everything we could from the facility's computers—information that would help us control and understand our... modifications."
"We fled to this section of the Undercity with nothing but our enhanced bodies and the skills forced upon us," she said. "With no money, no identification, and no knowledge of the outside world, we turned to bounty hunting to survive. We've been doing it for three years now. That's what led us to you—a target worth ten million alphas."
Michael nodded solemnly, processing their tragic history. "I understand. You need money and purpose. A reason to use the abilities that were forced upon you for something other than violence and survival."
He looked between the siblings, seeing not dangerous bounty hunters but victims of cruelty similar to what he had witnessed throughout the Undercity. "Why not join me in my mission to save this place? I'm fighting to transform it into something better than the hell it's become."
"How?" James asked skeptically, rising to his feet despite his injuries. "What could possibly change the Undercity?"
"I can share my full plan if you're willing to come to my base," Michael replied. "And don't worry about finances if you join me—I have considerable resources."
James exchanged a meaningful glance with his sister. Years of survival instinct warned against trusting anyone, especially someone they'd just tried to kill. But something about the Crimson Angel seemed genuine—a quality rare in the Undercity.
"Sure," James finally said, "but if you try anything suspicious, we won't hesitate to defend ourselves."
Michael nodded in acknowledgment. "I would expect nothing less."
He led them through a series of winding alleys to his hideout. The exterior appeared unremarkable—deliberately dilapidated to avoid drawing attention. But when Michael pressed his palm to a concealed scanner, a hidden door slid open to reveal a startling contrast.
The siblings couldn't hide their surprise at the immaculate interior. The base was pristinely organized and spotlessly clean, with advanced technology seamlessly integrated into the living space. Holographic displays lined one wall, monitoring various sectors of the Undercity. A weapons rack held an impressive array of customized firearms and blades. Everything spoke of meticulous planning and substantial resources.
"You live here?" Violet asked, running her fingers over a polished metal table.
Michael smiled faintly. "Home sweet home."
He activated his computer system with a touch, bringing up a detailed holographic diagram of a massive metallic tree structure situated in Steel's tower. The projection rotated slowly, revealing intricate details of the construct alongside images of bestial creatures with distorted human features.
"This tree is the primary reason most Undercity residents have become animalistic," Michael explained, manipulating the hologram to highlight various aspects of the structure. A pulsing red core at the center drew their attention. "Steel created it and continues to power it. The longer people are exposed to its influence, the more they transform into these beasts—losing their humanity bit by bit."
He turned to face the siblings, his expression grave. "My mission is to infiltrate Steel's tower, eliminate his forces, kill Steel himself, and destroy the tree. Afterward, I intend to lead the Undercity toward recovery and prosperity." Michael's voice lowered. "But I can't accomplish this alone. I need allies—people like you—if I want to transform this hell into something better."
"How can you trust us?" James challenged. "Five minutes ago, we were trying to kill you. What's stopping us from betraying you at the first opportunity?"
"Don't forget, you both lost that fight," Michael replied with a hint of a smile. "More importantly, I see genuine goodness in you. And you haven't been affected by the tree's influence." He extended his hand. "Will you join me? Together, we can stop the tree's corruption from spreading further through the Undercity's chasm."
The siblings exchanged a look that contained a lifetime of shared suffering and survival. In that silent moment, a decision was made.
"We agree," James said, clasping Michael's offered hand. "We'll join you in the battle against Steel and his forces."
Violet added her hand atop theirs. "For a better Undercity."
And with that simple agreement, they became a team.