Episode 3: The Hunt That Wasn't Theirs
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Cold Open
The Outpost smelled like steel and wet boots when the alarms went off.
Ghost sat with his back to a concrete pillar, head low, listening as mission calls echoed through the atrium. Crews jogged in formation toward armory gates, rifles slung, blades glinting, faces hard.
He wasn't supposed to move with them. Not yet. Intake rookies were given seats in the Observation Bay, where they could watch the field through drones, learn how Hunters bled, and try not to vomit when the feed went red.
That was the plan.
But plans die faster than rookies.
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Act I – The Observation Bay
Rows of seats curved around the Bay like a theater for war. A giant screen projected the feed of a live hunt: a monster outbreak at the edge of the southern district, where the city cracked into wilderness.
The target: a Scytheback Alpha, a nightmare beast shaped like a bear with spines curving over its back, each one razor-sharp and dripping with acid. Class-C threat. Dangerous. Supposedly manageable.
Ghost sat between Ira and Kael, both provisional crewmates. Ira leaned forward, arms crossed over her knees, eyes locked on the screen like she could cut it. Kael took notes on his tablet, lines of glowing script spilling into diagrams.
"This one's by the book," Kael murmured. "Alpha flanked by drones. Crew goes in with heavy suppress. Cut mobility first, then blind it."
"Unless they get cocky," Ira said.
"They won't," Kael replied.
They did.
On the screen, the lead crew pressed too fast. They dropped two drones with clean shots, but the Alpha whipped its spines outward in a fan of acid. One hunter's chest plate sizzled, smoking through into his ribs. He screamed and staggered. The formation fractured.
The Scytheback surged forward, crushing one with a paw swipe that snapped spine against pavement. The feed shook as the drone carrying the camera tumbled sideways.
The Observation Bay filled with silence broken only by chewing nerves. Ghost leaned back, jaw tight.
He could hear his own heartbeat. The same one that had shifted in the dark. The one that wasn't normal.
On the screen, the crew was dying.
"They're not stabilizing," Kael muttered, fingers flying on his tablet. "Their support's down. Their range is scattered."
"They're done," Ira said flatly. She didn't say it like she wanted them dead. She said it like she'd seen it before.
The Scytheback reared back for a killing blow—
Then the alarms changed. A new klaxon, harsher.
[ ALERT: NEARBY CIVILIANS EXPOSED. HUNTER LAW #2 OVERRIDE — ADDITIONAL CREWS REQUIRED. ]
The Observation Bay doors slammed open. Vale's voice hit like a hammer: "Sable-9, with me. Now."
⸻
Act II – Into the Street
The Outpost doors opened to ruin.
The southern district looked like it had already died once. Broken storefronts slouched against cracked pavement. Cars rusted in lines like a funeral procession. Streetlamps flickered half-dead light.
The Scytheback roared down the avenue, spines gleaming under moonlight. Its acid hissed where it splattered concrete. The crew that had engaged it lay scattered, broken, some still groaning but out of the fight. Civilians screamed from a half-collapsed subway entrance, pinned by falling rebar.
"Positions," Vale snapped.
Ira drew her blades, sliding low into a predator's crouch. Kael dropped sensors that bloomed into a lattice of light, tracking enemy movements.
Ghost had been handed another training pistol. Its weight felt wrong. Not useless—just insufficient. His right hand itched with the memory of the pistol that wasn't supposed to exist.
"Rookie," Vale barked. "Stay behind. Provide cover fire. Don't get clever."
Ghost said nothing. He leveled the pistol.
The Scytheback noticed them. Its red eyes locked. The spines rattled like an arsenal waiting to launch.
Vale moved first, sword whistling as it cleaved a spine in half. Ira darted at its flank, blades scraping sparks. Kael dropped a canister that erupted into a wall of smoke, blinding the monster's sight.
Ghost held the rear. He fired at the drones circling above, each shot calculated. One dropped, then another. His arms didn't shake. His breath stayed calm.
But then the Scytheback adapted. It slammed its paws into the street, acid bursting in every direction. Vale raised her sword to shield her crew. Ira rolled behind rubble. Kael shouted something into comms.
And Ghost saw it—one civilian pinned under rebar, too far from anyone else. The acid wave rolled toward her like fire in liquid form.
Nobody else saw it. Nobody else could move fast enough.
Ghost moved.
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Act III – The Gun That Shouldn't Be
His ribs screamed when he sprinted, but his body didn't falter. He vaulted debris, dropped to a slide, and fired the training pistol. The shot went wide. Another. Click—empty.
No time.
The pressure in his chest rose like a second heartbeat. He let it.
The training pistol dissolved from his grip like smoke. His right hand lifted. The mini automatic pistol bloomed into reality with that silent, perfect weight.
Ghost didn't hesitate. He fired.
The bullet carved through the acid wave mid-air, detonating it into a harmless spray. He pivoted, fired again, cutting through the Scytheback's spines as if he knew exactly where they'd snap.
The monster roared, eyes flaring red.
Ghost didn't stop. He ran to the trapped civilian, shoved the rebar off with strength he shouldn't have, and hauled her up.
"Go," he said, voice flat. She didn't question. She ran.
Behind him, the Scytheback turned, spines clattering like knives. Ghost raised his pistol. He felt the mechanic stir—like the world itself wanted him to end things.
[ Final Blow Activated ]
He fired once.
The bullet gleamed brighter than it should. It struck the Alpha's eye, drilled through skull, and burst out the other side. The beast froze, roaring cut short. Then it collapsed, shaking the ground, spines twitching in death throes.
Silence fell over the street.
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Act IV – The Lie That Saves Him
Vale wiped acid from her blade, glaring at the corpse. "Too sloppy," she muttered. Then she turned to Ghost.
He quickly dissolved the pistol behind his back. When Vale's eyes found him, he was holding the empty training gun.
"I thought I told you to cover fire," she said.
"I saw the civilian," Ghost replied evenly. "Made the shot."
Vale studied him for a long, cold second. She glanced at the Scytheback's corpse—one perfect hole through the skull. No wasted bullets. No chance.
"You're reckless," she said finally. "But efficient. Don't confuse the two."
Ira walked past, blades dripping monster blood. "Not bad, rookie. Try not to make me owe you again."
Kael raised an eyebrow, eyes flicking to Ghost's hands. "That training pistol doesn't punch like that," he murmured, just low enough only Ghost could hear.
Ghost met his gaze and said nothing.
⸻
Ending Cliffhanger
The Outpost reclaimed the street as Hunters carried bodies and civilians away. The Scytheback's corpse steamed, its acid blood eating through asphalt.
Ghost sat on the rubble, chest heaving, but not from exhaustion. He could have fought longer. Much longer.
His HUD flickered in his vision:
[ EXP +800 ]
[ Level Up → 5 ]
[ Final Blow Unlocked ]
He closed his hand slowly, feeling the pistol dissolve back into nothing.
Nobody saw.
Nobody would know.
But whispers had already started. A rookie who didn't miss. A rookie who didn't get tired.
Ghost stared at the steaming corpse.
This wasn't the observation he was supposed to have.
This was the beginning.