The evening hum had shifted. Streetlights flickered faintly, not from malfunction but from the subtle pulsing of energy beneath the roads. Aubrey and Mara moved cautiously along the wide avenue, footsteps muted against the polished surface. Shadows stretched unnaturally long across the walls, bending where the faint glow of hovering vehicles met the corners.
"Do you feel that?" Mara asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The way she said it made Aubrey glance around, every sense on edge.
"Yeah," he replied, Bloodfire simmering just beneath the surface. "Something's… watching."
From above, a cluster of surveillance drones swept past, their lenses glowing soft blue, scanning pedestrians and storefronts alike. People around them moved with calm purpose, oblivious, but Aubrey felt the invisible pulse—like the air itself was calculating his next move.
Lyric appeared at their side, hands tucked in his jacket pockets. "You've been training enough," he said, eyes scanning the horizon. "Now you'll see what happens when the city decides to test you for real."
Before Aubrey could ask, a low rumble vibrated through the streets. Holographic ads shimmered, distorting as if the air itself were trembling. Figures emerged from side alleys, moving fluidly, almost unnaturally. They weren't Watchers, not quite—but their presence carried the same unnerving weight.
Aubrey clenched his fists, Bloodfire flaring along his arms in response to instinct. Mara mirrored him, her energy stirring in soft pulses.
The first strike came almost immediately—a drone from above, armed with a small but lethal energy blade, swooped down with precision. Aubrey ducked, rolling behind a hover-bench, and lashed out with a blade of fire that cut through the metal frame of the drone. Sparks rained down, scattering pedestrians who still didn't see the danger.
"Keep moving!" Lyric shouted, tossing a small device onto the pavement. It exploded in a burst of light and sound, temporarily scrambling the sensors of the pursuing drones.
They ran, weaving through streets and narrow corridors, every corner potentially hiding another ambush. Aubrey's Bloodfire shaped into jagged spears, slicing drones midair. Mara's pulse bursts disrupted energy fields, knocking them offline for critical seconds.
Aubrey risked a glance at her. "You're getting faster!"
She smirked briefly, then ducked under a low transport vehicle, energy crackling at her fingertips. "You're not so bad yourself," she shot back, voice taut with excitement and fear.
The city's calm rhythm had fractured. Alarms rang faintly in the distance, a subtle signal that the hidden grid had registered unauthorized combat. Holographic signs flickered with warnings, changing from cheerful advertisements to red, angular symbols.
"Looks like the city is… annoyed," Aubrey muttered.
Lyric shook his head, lips pressed tight. "Not annoyed. Testing. It wants to see how you respond under real pressure."
They turned a corner into a bustling square, holographic fountains casting rainbow arcs into the night sky. Civilians moved around them, oblivious, and for a heartbeat, Aubrey considered the absurdity—here they were, fighting deadly drones, while kids and shoppers continued like nothing had happened.
Another drone swooped down, faster this time, aiming directly at Mara. She twisted, energy flaring in an elegant arc, sending the drone crashing into a wall. Sparks ignited nearby posters, smoke curling upward.
Aubrey blocked a swinging energy whip from a humanoid enforcer that emerged from a shadowed alley. Its movements were precise, almost pre-programmed. He had to anticipate, not just react, letting his Bloodfire instinct guide him. Each strike from him or Mara shredded the enforcer's defenses, but they kept coming—relentless, calculated.
"This isn't random!" Aubrey shouted to Mara, dodging another energy strike. "Someone's controlling them!"
Lyric nodded grimly. "Of course. This is the first real test of your presence here. Whoever set this up wants to see if you can survive in the open—and adapt fast."
The pulse of their combined energy began resonating with the surrounding tech. Bloodfire met city tech in sparks, small overloads rippling across the square. Pedestrians stepped back finally, startled by arcs of fire and energy in the night.
Hours—or what felt like hours—passed in a blur of attacks, dodges, and tactical counters. Aubrey felt every sinew burning, yet alive, every heartbeat syncing with Mara's pulses.
Finally, a loud sonic blast from above disabled the last wave of drones. Silence settled like a thick blanket. Smoke spiraled from scorched pavement and shattered street kiosks. They stood amid the chaos, breathing hard, hair damp with sweat, clothes singed but intact.
Mara let out a long, shaky laugh. "That… that was insane!"
Aubrey smirked, letting the Bloodfire fade to a subtle glow. "And the city? It's still… calm."
Lyric appeared beside them, face serious. "Calm isn't peace. Tonight, you've survived a controlled storm. Tomorrow… you'll learn that storms here don't always announce themselves first."
Aubrey looked around at the flickering holograms, the scattered drones, and the silent crowd that had finally realized something was wrong. "Then we'll be ready," he said.
Mara nodded, brushing soot from her sleeve. "Yeah. Together."
Above them, the city pulsed faintly, as if acknowledging their presence. Somewhere deep in the grid, systems monitored every move. The calm had been broken. And now, the real test had only begun.