After escaping the Riftborn hideout and making their way through the maze of ruined alleys and narrow streets, Omo, Chizoba, and Ife finally come to a stop in a secluded courtyard. The air is thick with dust, and the distant echoes of the city's night life hum around them. Omo leans against a crumbling wall, catching her breath, while Chizoba keeps a watchful eye on the surroundings, his senses still on high alert.
Ife drops to one knee, wincing as he checks a fresh gash on his shoulder. "We barely got out of there... Those things—those people... What the hell were they?"
Omo scoffs, tapping a loose piece of metal plating on her arm. "Something twisted by the Iron Kings' tech. I don't know what they did to themselves, but that wasn't human anymore."
Chizoba patted his clothes trying to remove as much dust as possible, his face serious. "They weren't human, but they moved with purpose. Something is controlling them—or guiding them. We'll have to be more careful next time."
Omo straightens up, adjusting her gauntlet. "Next time? You make it sound like we're going back in there. Besides, splitting up would be faster. We need to cover more ground if we're going to figure out what these Riftborn are really up to."
Chizoba frowns. "Splitting up is dangerous. We barely made it out alive together."
Omo shrugs, trying to look nonchalant but clearly annoyed. "I'm not babysitting you two. Besides, I've got something to take care of. Gotta upgrade my suit if I'm gonna survive whatever insanity we walk into next. That Ember Drive isn't going to install itself."
Chizoba narrows his eyes. "You plan on putting that thing into your suit? Are you sure it's safe?"
Omo smirks. "Safe? No. But when has safe ever gotten me anywhere? I know what I'm doing."
Chizoba still looks unconvinced, his jaw set in a stubborn line. "We need to stick together. We're up against things we don't understand. Going alone isn't smart."
Omo snorts. "Look, Golden Boy, I can take care of myself. Besides, you don't even trust me. Why bother worrying now?"
Chizoba's gaze softens, but he doesn't back down. "It's not about trust. We've fought together—more than once. That means something. I'm just saying—"
Ife cuts in, his tone calm but weary. "She has a point. Covering more ground would be faster. We can't afford to waste time."
Omo shoots Ife a grateful glance. "Exactly. I'll take care of my upgrades and see if I can sniff out more leads. You two go check out the next hideout. We'll meet back here by sunrise."
Chizoba hesitates, then sighs, knowing he won't win this argument. "...Fine. Be careful."
Omo grins, giving a cocky salute. "I'm always careful. Try not to die without me."
As Omo slips into the shadows, heading toward her hidden workshop, Ife turns to Chizoba with a raised eyebrow. "You know... she acts tough, but she cares more than she lets on."
Chizoba glances in the direction Omo left, his eyes thoughtful. "Yeah... I noticed."
With the plan set, Chizoba and Ife head off toward the next suspected Riftborn hideout while Omo moves toward her hidden stronghold, determination burning in her eyes.
…....….
Omo moved through the underground market with practiced ease, her hood pulled low to hide her features. The dimly lit tunnels were filled with the scent of oil, smoke, and exotic spices, and the hum of whispered deals and bartered goods filled the air.
She stopped at a stall selling fragmented relics and ancient mechanisms, most of which were useless junk, but a few pieces glinted with faint Ase residue. The merchant, an old man with wiry hair and suspicious eyes, glanced up as she approached.
"Looking for something specific, stranger?" he rasped, his hand protectively hovering over a dusty crate.
"Information, mostly," Omo said casually, picking up a broken metal shard and pretending to examine it. "Heard there's been... disturbances. Strange folk lurking around the southern quarter."
The merchant's eyes narrowed. "Ain't nothing strange in Orun-Saa that ain't always been strange. You poking your nose where it don't belong, girl?"
She flashed him a crooked smile. "Relax, old man. Just looking out for myself. Folk say there's a group of crazies wandering around—half machine, half flesh. Anything like that sound familiar?"
The merchant froze for a fraction of a second before shaking his head. "Never heard of it. You ought to move along."
Omo raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer. "Come on, old man. Your hands are shaking. You know something. Spill it, and I might make it worth your while."
Before he could respond, a pair of burly men in faded armor approached, eyes narrowed and hands on their weapons. One of them, a thick-necked brute with a scarred lip, sneered at Omo.
"He bothering you, Salu?"
The merchant quickly shook his head. "N-no. Just some kid trying to get herself killed."
Omo held up her hands innocently. "No need to get rough. Just asking questions."
Scarred Lip stepped closer, looming over her. "You keep your questions to yourself. Folks who dig too deep end up in pieces. Got it?"
Omo bit back a retort and gave an exaggerated nod. "Loud and clear. I'm gone."
She slipped past them, keeping her steps light and calm, but her mind raced. The merchant knew something, and the muscle was too quick to interfere. She made a mental note to circle back later when things cooled off.
Once she was a safe distance away, she ducked into a narrow alley and found a loose grate leading into the old sewers. She slipped through, navigating the dark, winding passages until she emerged into a small, well-hidden chamber reinforced with metal plating and stacked with spare parts.
The hideout had been prepared by Adégún—one of the places he promised they could use if they needed to lay low. Safe and discreet, it served Omo's purpose perfectly.
She dropped her pack onto a dusty table and pulled out the Ember Drive, its faint red glow illuminating her face. "Alright... time to see if you're worth the trouble."
Setting up her tools, Omo peeled off the damaged chest plate of her suit, exposing a tangle of wires and circuitry. She squinted at the Ember Drive, trying to map out how it could integrate with her suit's core.
"Let's see... If I reroute the primary output and cross-link it to the thermal regulator... Should keep it from frying me alive."
An hour passed, and her hands moved with precise efficiency, making careful adjustments and lining up the core's energy conduits. Just as she secured the drive in place, the entire assembly sparked violently, sending a jolt up her arm.
"Shit!" She yanked her hand back, shaking off the sting. "Damn it... Not blowing up would be nice."
Taking a deep breath, she recalibrated the thermal output and rechecked the insulation. The core's glow steadied, and she dared a small smile. "There we go."
She activated the suit, and the Ember Drive hummed to life, powering up the system with a soft, resonant pulse. Energy flowed smoothly, and her heads-up display flickered back online, faster and brighter than before.
Omo let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Alright... Next step: not dying when I use it."
Sitting back against the wall, she wiped the sweat from her forehead and allowed herself a small, triumphant grin. Things were finally looking up—now she just needed to figure out how to deal with the Riftborn without getting killed.
…....…..
Just as Chizoba and Ife were about to leave the abandoned warehouse, a low, guttural growl echoed from the shadows. Chizoba froze, his senses flaring to life, as twisted shapes began to emerge from the dark corners. Riftborn monsters—grotesque amalgamations of flesh and Iron King technology—skittered and lumbered toward them, their distorted limbs and metal appendages clanging against the floor.
"Stay back," Chizoba warned, shifting his stance as he summoned his Chi, the pale blue glow wrapping around his hands like coiling serpents. Ife moved behind him, seemingly unnerved.
One of the monsters lunged, metallic claws swiping at Chizoba's chest. He ducked low, sweeping his leg out to trip it, and delivered a powerful palm strike to its head, sending it crashing into a pile of debris. Another beast closed in from the side, but Chizoba twisted and struck it with a rapid burst of energy, shattering its reinforced skull.
He moved with brutal efficiency, cutting through each grotesque abomination that dared to attack. His strikes were fluid yet forceful, precise in dismantling the creatures one by one. As he finished off another beast, his breathing steady but labored, he felt a strange tingling sensation at the base of his spine—a faint prickle of warning.
Before he could react, a sharp, searing pain erupted between his shoulder blades. Chizoba staggered forward, choking back a gasp as the blade withdrew from his back. Blood dripped down his side, and he turned his head, his vision blurring slightly, to see Ife standing there, holding a wicked, curved knife.
"Ife... why?" he managed to force out, his voice strained.
She gave him a cold, almost pitying smile. "You really are dense, aren't you? You thought you were the hunter, but you've been the prey all along."
Chizoba gritted his teeth, refusing to fall. More monsters emerged, drawn by the scent of blood. He forced his body to move, gritting his teeth through the pain as he fought off another charging beast. His movements were slower, his strikes less precise, but his sheer willpower kept him upright.
One of the creatures slammed him into the wall, but he managed to impale it with a focused burst of Chi, piercing through its armored chest. Another riftborn lunged, and Chizoba gripped its head, flooding it with raw energy until it exploded into shrapnel and bone.
He barely noticed the dizziness setting in, his blood painting the ground in dark rivulets. His body swayed, his vision swimming, but he remained standing. As the final beast fell, he turned back to Ife, his breath ragged.
Ife clicked her tongue, almost looking disappointed. "You should've just died and saved yourself the trouble. You're strong, I'll give you that—but not strong enough to survive this."
A shadow moved behind her, and a figure stepped forward—tall, draped in dark robes adorned with glowing red markings. The stranger's presence was suffocating, like standing too close to a raging fire.
"Good work, Ife," the figure said in a smooth, commanding voice. "You've done well to bring him here."
Chizoba's knees buckled, but he forced himself upright, glaring at them both. "You... you're one of them."
The figure gave him a cruel smile. "High-ranking recruiter. You didn't think we'd let you just wander Orun-Saa without consequence, did you? You've become a nuisance."
Before Chizoba could respond, the figure snapped his fingers, and a wave of oppressive energy crashed over him. He barely had time to register it before a crushing force slammed into his head, and darkness swallowed him whole.
…....…
Omo was hunched over a workbench in the hideout, her hands deep inside her suit's internal circuitry as she tried to reroute power through the newly integrated Ember Drive. Sparks danced from the wires, and she muttered curses under her breath, her goggles reflecting the faint orange glow of the power core.
A soft, rapid beeping interrupted her concentration, and she frowned, pulling back and tapping a holographic interface on her wrist. The notification was flashing—a message from Chizoba.
She furrowed her brows and opened it.
"The plan worked. I got in."
Omo snorted. "Dumbass didn't even bother to add more details." She tapped the message, trying to trace the location tag, but nothing came up. Confusion twisted her features, and she pulled up the message details, looking for any sign of recent activity. That's when she noticed it—the message was marked as pre-typed.
She froze, the realization crashing into her like a sledgehammer. "He didn't send this himself..." Her hands tightened into fists. "Which means—"
A cold, seething anger boiled in her gut as she slammed her palm against the table. "Idiot! He really walked into it. Thought he could handle it on his own," she muttered, her teeth gritted. Her mind raced, piecing together the situation.
Chizoba must have anticipated getting caught and prepared a message beforehand, which meant he couldn't send his location now. Whatever trouble he was in, he wasn't conscious—or worse.
Omo pulled up her map of Orun-Saa, scanning the locations they had marked as potential Riftborn hideouts. She muttered under her breath, trying to think. There were still a few places they hadn't checked—abandoned temples and old storage facilities near the industrial district.
"Stupid... reckless idiot," she grumbled, strapping on her suit's gauntlets. The Ember Drive hummed faintly, still not fully integrated, but she didn't care. Chizoba was in danger, and she wasn't about to sit around waiting for him to get himself killed.
She took a deep breath and activated the Phantom Shroud, blending into the shadows as she slipped out of the hideout. "If you die on me, I swear I'll drag your ghost back and kill you again," she whispered, steeling herself as she moved through the city, determination burning in her eyes.