Episode 3 – The First Surge
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Rain fell like nails, clattering against rusted roofs and clogged gutters. Zack stalked through the alleys with Luna's sigil burned behind his eyes, neon afterglow still dripping inside his skull. The city reeked of oil and wet garbage.
The HUD whispered in sterile calm:
LEVEL 3
EXP: 0 / 1000
NEXT MILESTONE: Level 10 – Steel Surge (Locked)
Zack flexed his fists. Knuckles creaked like loaded pistols. He wasn't hunting for EXP tonight—he was hunting for revenge.
The sigil guided him to an abandoned meat-packing warehouse at the edge of the river. Windows shattered, walls bleeding rust, graffiti screaming curses in fifty languages. A faint glow spilled from beneath the steel door.
Zack's fangs ached. Got you.
He pushed inside.
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The Bolthole
The warehouse smelled of mildew and rot. Hanging hooks swayed though there was no breeze. In the center, a circle of glyphs burned faint blue, surrounding a dozen freezers. Human hearts floated in jars. Runes crawled over the floor like insects.
And sitting on a crate, as if the place belonged to him, was Silas.
Not in a suit this time. A long black coat clung to him, soaked from rain, and his silver hair dripped into eyes colder than winter. He smoked lazily, ash falling onto the glyph circle like holy snow.
"Evening, steelboy," Silas said, voice calm and sharp. "I expected Marrow's dogs. Instead I get you."
Zack's fists clenched. "You gonna block the door, old man?"
Silas exhaled smoke through his nose. "Door? Boy, there's no door. Only choices. You want Marrow. You think you're ready. You're not."
Zack stepped closer, boots ringing on steel grates. "Then move, or I'll make you."
Silas smiled faintly. "Show me."
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The Fight
Zack charged. His steel fist cut the air like a sledgehammer. Silas didn't even rise from the crate—he tilted his head and Zack's punch smashed wood and concrete instead.
The next moment, Silas blurred. He was in Zack's face, palm pressing into his chest. Boom. Zack flew across the warehouse, ribs rattling. He coughed blood, landing hard against a freezer.
"Level three," Silas murmured. "Still clumsy. Still loud."
Zack spat red on the floor. "Fuck you."
He lunged again, this time chaining his speed—one-two-three punches, each faster than the last. Sparks danced as steel slammed against Silas's forearms. But Silas moved like water, redirecting every strike, not blocking—teaching.
"You're fighting like a man who thinks he can't die," Silas said. He backhanded Zack so hard the warehouse rattled. Zack crashed through a stack of rusted hooks. Chains clattered like screams.
The HUD flared warnings:
DAMAGE: Heavy Trauma
VITALITY: 60%
Zack roared, blood streaking his chin. "Shut the fuck up!"
He sprinted low, ducked a swipe, and rammed his fangs at Silas's throat. Silas caught his jaw again—one hand—like in the club. He slammed Zack into the ground, cracking concrete.
Zack gasped, rage boiling. "I'm not your toy!"
"Good," Silas said softly. He drove a knee into Zack's gut. Bones bent. Air whooshed out of Zack's lungs.
VITALITY: 40%
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The Break
Zack lay on the floor, coughing blood, chest caved. The HUD flickered with error codes. He could hear his mother's voice in his head—weak, gentle, telling him to eat, to rest, to stop fighting everything.
She wouldn't want this.
She wouldn't want you broken.
Silas stood above him, cigarette still glowing between two fingers. "You don't even know what you are. Steel isn't power. Steel is cage. Break free of it, or die in it."
Zack's vision blurred. He slammed his fist against the floor, harder, harder, until cracks spread across the cement. His HUD screamed warnings. He ignored them.
ALERT: System Overload Approaching
NEXT MILESTONE: Level 10 – Steel Surge (Locked)
Override available. Risk: Catastrophic Failure
Engage Surge [Y/N]?
Zack bared his fangs, blood bubbling on his lips. "Yes."
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Steel Surge: Awakening
The world detonated.
Zack's veins glowed white-hot, alloy boiling under his skin. Sparks erupted from his fists. His scream became a metallic roar as Steel Surge unlocked early, tearing open a vein of power meant for later levels.
His HUD cracked like glass across his vision, but one message burned through:
STEEL SURGE: ACTIVE
SPD +200% | STR +200% | DURABILITY +150%
Zack blurred. One moment on the floor, the next smashing a fist into Silas's face. For the first time, Silas staggered—blood at the corner of his mouth. His cigarette hit the floor, burning out.
"Better," Silas growled.
Zack didn't stop. He pummeled forward, fists ringing like hammers, every blow shaking the warehouse. Sparks sprayed as metal met bone, blood spattered across walls.
Silas blocked, redirected, but each hit now forced him back. His smile sharpened, feral. "Finally. A wolf pup, not a dog."
He kicked Zack into the glyph circle. Runes flared, chains of blue light wrapping Zack's limbs. The surge bucked against them, sparks ripping the glyphs apart like wet paper.
Zack roared and charged through. He drove his fangs into Silas's shoulder, tearing flesh. Blood—black and glowing—splashed across Zack's tongue. It tasted like centuries of hunger.
Silas slammed his elbow into Zack's skull, freeing himself. He bled, but his eyes glowed brighter now, feral joy glinting.
"That," Silas hissed, "is what I wanted to see."
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The End of Round One
Zack dropped to one knee, body smoking from within. The Surge faded, leaving agony in its wake. His muscles screamed, alloy cracking under skin.
WARNING: System Collapse
LEVEL: 3
EXP: 300 / 1000
Silas stood above him, hand pressed to his bleeding shoulder. He didn't look angry. He looked proud.
"You unlocked it early. You'll pay for that in blood later, but… impressive."
Zack wheezed, trying to stand. "Not… done yet."
Silas crouched, meeting his eyes. "You're still weak. But not worthless. Keep hunting. Keep breaking. When you reach prestige, come find me. Until then—don't die."
And just like that, he was gone. One blink, empty air.
Zack collapsed onto the floor, shaking, chest heaving. His HUD blinked faintly, as if barely alive.
STEEL SURGE [Prototype] – UNLOCKED
Cooldown: Severe. Body Damage: Critical.
He laughed, raw and bloody. "Fuck… yeah."
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Aftermath
Zack limped out of the warehouse as dawn stained the river pink. His hoodie hung in tatters, his steel body cracked and steaming. But he was alive. Stronger.
The city stretched ahead, endless and hungry. His mom was still waiting in that hospital bed, fragile as glass. And Zack swore he'd tear the whole supernatural underworld apart before he let her down.
The wind carried faint laughter. Luna's? Or Silas's? Didn't matter.
Zack bared his fangs to the sunrise. "Prestige or die. That's the plan."