[KAISER – POV]
The lab hummed with that low, persistent buzz—the kind that sinks into your bones like a bad habit you can't shake. Jerry's half-assembled gadgets scattered across the workbench cast long shadows under the dim bulbs, their metallic edges glinting like knives waiting for blood. The air carried the sharp bite of solder and oil, mixed with the faint, lingering trace of sweat from the emotional gut-spill I'd just unloaded on Hawk. Four days. That's all it had been since she'd stormed into my world like a glitch in the system, cracking open the vault of pain I'd sealed shut—my sister's death, the Trinity's shattering betrayal, and Ryzen's cold knife-twist that birthed the fractured hell of Kingpins ruling the zones. She sat across from me now, her leather jacket hugging her frame against the chill seeping from the concrete walls, Oracle-Eye whirring softly as it scanned the room for threats that lurked in the shadows of my mind more than anywhere else. Jerry lounged in his corner, tin-aug eyes glinting under the low light, flask of whiskey dangling from one hand while he tinkered with a half-finished gadget in the other. He'd been my anchor through the worst of it, patching up wounds both physical and otherwise, his gruff support a constant in the chaos. Clara's preliminary sync pulsed in my skull like a second heartbeat, analytical and unyielding, ready to carve through data with the precision of a blade.
Hawk's hand brushed mine under the table, her fingers rough from years of gripping hilts and triggers, a quiet gesture that said she hadn't bolted after hearing the ugly truth. She hadn't run from the darkness I'd laid bare, and that stirred something deep—respect, maybe, or the kind of connection that could turn allies into something more dangerous. Jerry had stood by me from the early days, his inventions pulling me out of more scrapes than I could count, his loyalty as solid as the augments in his body. Now, it was time to reveal the team that would turn our personal hells into a reckoning. "Clara," I said, my voice low and edged with the weight of what was coming, "bring up the six specialists. Full breakdowns—powers, locations. Keep it tight; these are the blades we'll wield against Ryzen's throat."
Clara's holographic form bloomed into existence in a cascade of shimmering code lines, her sleek silhouette elegant against the lab's clutter, digital eyes sharp as she locked onto the request. "Initiating display, Kaiser. Profiles in strategic sequence, from volatile risks to core strengths. Each one a potential game-changer in the fight ahead."
Jerry set his flask down with a deliberate clink, leaning forward, his tin-aug eyes whirring as they interfaced with the incoming data. "Alright, K, let's hear what you've scrounged up. If these are the ones to crack Ryzen's empire, they better bring the heat—I'm all in, as always." His tone carried that familiar backing, the kind that had seen us through countless close calls.
Hawk shifted closer, her expression a mix of focus and that unyielding resolve I admired, her voice cutting through the hum. "Make it count, thief. If these profiles deliver, we've got the edge we need."
I met her gaze, feeling the spark of alliance ignite. "They will. Clara, start with the time manipulator—give us the essentials."
Clara's holo ignited with the first profile, the air shimmering as a gaunt woman appeared, bound in heavy chains within a barren cell, temporal runes etched across her skin like veins of unstable light that made the projection itself seem to stutter and warp. "Morgana, the Time Bender," Clara stated, her voice calm and measured, cutting through the lab's hum like a precise incision. "Powers: Dilation fields that expand or contract time in targeted zones, allowing brief moments to unfold into extended sequences or compressing longer periods into instants; temporal loops that ensnare subjects in repeating cycles, compelling them to relive events without end; rewind bursts that reverse recent occurrences or damages. She is currently imprisoned in Tartarus Maximum Security Facility—a fortified complex where temporal distortions serve as both barrier and punishment."
Jerry leaned in closer, his tin-aug eyes zooming on the runes with a soft whir, processing the details with that analytical edge he always brought. "Tartarus, huh? That's a brutal hold—time itself twists in there, breaking minds before bodies. Dilation fields could give us the upper hand in a fight, stretching our attacks while their side's stuck in slow motion. You thinking of pairing her with someone to maximize that?" His question came with a nod of support, flask momentarily forgotten as he dove into the strategy.
Hawk's Oracle-Eye synced with the holo, red lines tracing the rune patterns, her voice direct and probing. "Loops and rewinds? That's control on another level—trap enemies in their mistakes or undo a bad hit. But Tartarus isn't just a prison; it's a mind-breaker. How do you see her fitting in without the place's damage holding her back?"
I nodded, the potential clear in my mind. "The damage makes her resilient. Imagine her looping a Kingpin's guards in a cycle of defeat—they relive the beatdown until they shatter. Dilation turns our strikes into prolonged assaults. She's volatile, but that's the edge we need against Ryzen's forces."
Clara's form pulsed faintly. "Noted. Synergy potential with subsequent profiles is high—dilation could amplify coordinated efforts."
Jerry tapped the table, his mechanical fingers clicking. "High synergy? Understatement. If she loops a breach, we could turn minutes into hours of prep. Solid start, K—next one better build on this."
Hawk crossed her arms, a faint smile playing. "Agreed. Let's see if the rest measure up."
Clara adjusted the display seamlessly, electric sparks flickering as a wiry man materialized, strapped into a rig that siphoned his energy like a relentless drain. "Damian 'Lightning' Reed," Clara continued, her tone steady. "Powers: Lightning dashes for burst mobility with electrified paths; EMP bursts to disable technological and biological systems; circuit overloads that assume control of machinery or enhancements. Detained in a suppression facility in Ashdown, where his power is systematically harvested."
Jerry's aug eyes locked on the sparks, whirring as he analysed. "Ashdown facilities are no joke—they sap until there's nothing left. EMP bursts could shut down enemy tech in a flash; dashes make him a ghost on the field. You seeing him as a opener for bigger plays?"
Hawk studied the profile, her Oracle-Eye mapping trajectories. "Dashes and overloads? That's disruption at speed—cripple defences before they react. Ashdown's harvest setups are cruel; he's probably on the edge."
I leaned back, visualizing the fit. "On the edge is where we thrive. His dashes pierce lines, EMPs create openings for the team. Overloads turn their own augments against them—imagine hijacking a Kingpin's security to self-destruct."
Clara interjected. "Integration viable—EMPs could complement temporal fields for chained effects."
Jerry nodded. "Chained effects? That's the kind of combo that wins wars. Keep 'em coming, Clara—this is building nice."
Hawk's gaze sharpened. "It is."
The holo shifted to vines twisting around a resolute woman in a labyrinth of illusions. "Viola Sage," Clara said. "Powers: Adaptive toxins that corrupt organic or inorganic targets; regeneration enabling survival of extreme damage. Confined in Mirror Widow's illusion maze in Veilstrand."
Jerry traced the vines with his eyes. "Veilstrand mazes are endless traps. Toxins and regen? She wears down anything—persistent threat."
I saw the potential unfold. "She erodes what others can't break—toxins seep through cracks, regen keeps her in the fight."
Clara noted. "Regen pairs well with high-risk powers—extends operational time."
Jerry tapped his flask. "Extends time? Smart. This crew's shaping up."
A man chained to a console emerged next, tools surrounding him. "William 'Reaper'," Clara explained. "No traits—mastery in hacking and invention, creating weapons and gadgets that match enhanced abilities. Bound by bio-contract to Greta Lopez in Red Haven."
Jerry examined the tools. "Red Haven's contracts are binding. His crafts could turn tides—custom solutions for any gap."
I affirmed. "He counters tech we can't touch—his inventions level the field."
Clara added. "Crafts enhance team capabilities—versatile support."
Hawk smiled. "Versatile? Damn"
Ghostly forms encircled a shadowed woman. "Inara 'Lilith'. Powers: Reanimation of the deceased into controlled units; soul-binding for direction. Located in the Deadman Zone."
Jerry's voice steadied. "Deadman Zone is harsh. Binding the dead? Numerical edge in any conflict."
Hawk reflected. "Reanimate and command—losses become assets."
I envisioned it. "She turns battlefields to our advantage—bound forces overwhelm."
Clara stated. "Binding amplifies group strength—force multiplier."
Jerry nodded. "Multiplier? Key. Last one."
The holo closed with a marksman in desolate ruins, rifle in hand. "Alex 'Artemis'. Powers: Impeccable aim with predictive calculation. In Fukushima's fallout zones—driven by a Kingpin's violation and murder of his wife and son."
Jerry's tone sobered. "Fukushima is relentless."
Hawk's eyes showed understanding. "Precision from pain—unwavering."
I concluded. "He breaches what we can't reach."
Clara finalized. "Profiles complete. Synergies indicate high success potential."
Jerry clapped my back. "Strong group, K. I'm behind you—tech ready when you are."
Hawk held my hand. "This is it."
[HAWK'S POV]
Kaiser's fingers brushed mine under the table, rough and insistent, sending a jolt straight to my clit that made me shift, wetness building as his touch teased higher. "Clara," he said, voice low and commanding, the kind that made me want him growling dirty commands while pounding me senseless, "expand to the pyramid. Warlords at the base like limp-dicked fodder—we skip those small-balled pricks. Fifteen Kingpins stacking above, each a twisted fuck ruling their zone with powers that'd make your pussy clench. At the top, Ryzen and the Nameless King fused into one shadowy overlord, question mark throbbing like a veiled cock-tease. Clara, start with Varn—powers, zone, make it quick and dirty so we can plot how to fuck 'em raw."
Clara's form pulsed, the pyramid blooming in the holo with warlords squirming below, Kingpins rising, Ryzen and Nameless crowning it all. "Baron Varn. Powers: Plague spread rotting from inside like infected cum; necrosis touch melting flesh; reanimation of decayed shit into zombie slaves. Rules Ashdown, a festering dump."
Jerry barked a laugh, leaning in, aug eyes whirring. "Varn, that rot-cocked bastard? Spreads plagues like jizzing disease, touch turns you to goo, raises rotten fucks as his playthings. Ashdown's his shit-pit; he'd melt our asses before we blinked. Bet he fucks his zombies—necro style, all slimy and gross." His chuckle was supportive, flask tilting as he eyed the holo.
The image fired me up, mixing revulsion with that dark thrill, heat pooling as Kaiser's fingers pressed my thigh. "Plague and rot? Corrupts slow like poison in your veins, builds hordes from corpses. Ryzen's barrier—seals with decay, turns fights into melting orgies." My voice came out husky, the thought stirring dirty flashes—Kaiser thrusting deep after, making me scream.
Kaiser grinned, fingers slipping higher, brushing my wetness. "Barrier of filth. We'd burn his rot, leave him a puddle begging. Imagine reanimating his own decaying dick—self-fuck from hell. Clara, next—"
A sharp beep cut through like a cockblock from fate—Kaiser's datapad vibrating urgently on the table. He snatched it, screen flashing from Dr. Molloy's clinic, Tara's name in bold red. He answered, doc's voice tense. "Kaiser, get here now—Tara's worsening."
His face hardened, eyes storming. Without a word, he bolted, coat whipping as he vanished through the door. Jerry and I stared, pyramid glowing. "What the fuck?" I snapped.
Jerry frowned. "The kid—Tara. Must be bad."
[KAISER – POV]
Zones flashed by in chrono-skip bursts, mind fixed on Tara—that broken kid I'd sworn to shield, her small body scarred but fierce. The clinic loomed in Scarpoint's edges, reinforced against the zone's shit. I didn't slow—boot slamming the door, stomping it open with a crack that echoed.
Inside, sterile air thick with beeps and blood. Tara convulsed on the bed, energy surging—trait awakening in a burst, form glowing with power, pain forging something unbreakable. Molloy and a nurse gasped, eyes wide. "Tara sweetie, I'm here," I said, rushing to her side as the mythic trait bloomed, everyone gasping at the legendary force manifesting.
End of chapter