Chapter 3: Rust in Motion
The Smogline District had a rhythm, and Rust Unit knew it better than anyone. Every hiss of the pipes, every flicker of a malfunctioning streetlight, every stray cat darting through the alleys was part of the city's heartbeat. And for as chaotic as the district was, the Rust Unit thrived in it.
That morning, Champ was late. Again.
"Seriously, kid," Lira muttered, holding a coffee that had gone cold while watching Champ stumble out of the Rust Station, "if you don't start waking up on time, I'm sending Kiro to carry you."
"Uh… thanks?" Champ said, blinking blearily and rubbing his hair. "Wait… do you mean that or…"
Lira rolled her eyes. "I don't mean anything that you'll actually appreciate. Just… move."
A Quick Look at Rust Unit
Before the chaos of the day hit, Champ's team took a moment to breathe, and Champ, for once, observed them quietly. Each member had a story, and though they didn't talk about it often, he knew enough to respect them—and sometimes, tease them mercilessly.
Lira Vaughn – the de facto leader:
Awakened B-rank with kinetic manipulation. She could redirect force, which made her perfect for urban combat. Her backstory: A former street fighter, she had been scouted by the GAA but refused to join officially. She liked freedom, and leadership came naturally—even if she complained about it constantly.
Kiro Dane – "Riptide":
Awakened C-rank with water manipulation. Could condense moisture into blades, armor, or jets of movement. Backstory: Son of a fisherman who had been exposed to Bloom chemicals while rescuing a ship during the war. Kiro's water affinity had helped him survive countless accidents before he even joined Rust Unit. He had a hot temper but a surprisingly soft spot for animals… and for trashy snacks.
Rook Callen – "Stoneheart":
Awakened D-rank with density manipulation. Could harden his body, becoming nearly immovable. Backstory: Former construction worker who survived a chemical accident that crushed his coworkers. He awoke with his abilities and vowed to protect those who couldn't defend themselves. Stoic, gruff, but protective of the younger members.
Ena Sol – "Static":
Awakened D-rank with electricity control. Could overload circuits or shock enemies with precise bursts. Backstory: Once a student tinkering with robotics, she had accidentally fried half a lab during Bloom exposure. Quiet and analytical, she was the team's brains—and often, its moral compass.
Jax Renner – "Tinker":
Awakened F-rank… but with insane ingenuity. Could jury-rig devices and weapons that functioned unpredictably but effectively. Backstory: Lifelong inventor, no formal training. Survived the Bloom War scavenging parts from ruined factories. His gadgets had more personality than him, and sometimes, they had a mind of their own.
Noah Crest – "Watcher":
Awakened F-rank with enhanced perception and observational skills. Could anticipate movements and read patterns. Backstory: Son of GAA bureaucrats who rejected the system. Quiet and unassuming, he'd been watching anomalies and heroes alike since childhood. A planner, not a fighter—but invaluable.
Vera Quinn – "Whisper":
Awakened D-rank with shadow melding and stealth. Could disappear in dim light and slip through the tightest spaces. Backstory: Orphaned during the Bloom War. Learned to survive by blending into shadows and avoiding trouble. She was mischievous and sarcastic, often teasing Champ mercilessly.
Rina "Bolt" Kawashima – Awakened C-rank with super speed:
Backstory: Former courier girl who outran chaos and death alike. Fastest on the team, sometimes frustratingly impatient.
And finally, there was Champ. F-rank, small, reckless—but the one wildcard they all secretly bet on.
The Downtown Chaos
The morning's calm ended with a distant boom, followed by alarms that echoed across the city.
"Downtown," Lira muttered. Her sharp eyes scanned the horizon. "Something big. Too big for small-time rogues. Too big for… well, anything normal."
Kiro's hand flexed, droplets forming along his arms. "And by 'big,' you mean dangerous, right?"
"Nope," Rook grumbled. "I mean, terrifying. Get ready to move."
The Rust Unit knew the signs. Downtown wasn't usually a place where anomalies ran wild—the GAA usually handled that before it got messy. The fact that they were already there meant something was wrong. Something serious.
"Civilians," Lira said, voice hardening. "We're not going to the front line. We help people, keep them safe, stay out of sight. Got it?"
"Got it," the team chorused, except for Champ, who muttered, "I got it… I think."
Splitting Up
Downtown was chaos. Smoke, sirens, and flashes of energy painted the streets. Rogue anomalies ran amok, smashing vehicles and setting fires. GAA enforcers—the kind Champ had only read about in news clips—were already engaged, blasting anomalies with precision weapons.
"Split up," Lira ordered. "We'll do more good helping people than trying to fight them directly. We stick to civilians, and we don't get caught."
Champ swallowed hard. This was it: his first real downtown mission. No Rust Station to hide behind, no small alleyways. Downtown. Real danger.
Champ's Mishap
As the team dispersed, Champ tried to stay behind, helping a trapped family out of a partially collapsed building. His nervousness made him slow, fumbling with the debris.
And that was when it happened.
He stumbled—literally—over a chunk of concrete and fell forward, right into the path of a blinding figure of light and armor.
The world seemed to slow. The armor gleamed gold and white, the insignia unmistakable: a licensed GAA hero. S-rank. The kind that made him look like a child next to a skyscraper.
"What the—!" Champ barely had time to gasp.
The hero's voice was cold and authoritative. "Get out of the way."
"I… uh…" Champ flailed, waving his hands helplessly. "I-I'm… helping…!"
The hero didn't flinch. Instead, they raised a hand and fired a concentrated burst of energy at an approaching anomaly. It disintegrated instantly, leaving a shockwave that knocked Champ back into a stack of crates.
"Are you seriously trying to be a hero at F-rank?" the hero said, voice cutting. "You're lucky I didn't mistake you for one of them."
Champ scrambled to his feet, coughing from the dust. His heart pounded. His first instinct—panic—was replaced by something else: determination.
"I… I may be F-rank," he stuttered, standing tall (as tall as sixteen-year-old F-rank could), "but that doesn't mean I can't help people!"
The hero's gaze sharpened, measuring him. "You… have spirit. Dangerous, but spirit nonetheless."
Before Champ could reply, a massive shockwave erupted from behind the hero—one of the rogue anomalies had survived and was charging downtown. The hero turned, preparing to strike again, and Champ felt a surge of adrenaline, his muscles tensing in a way that surprised him.
Something… was happening.
He didn't know what, but his body felt stronger, faster, sharper. His fists clenched, his instincts screamed, and…
The hero barely looked at him as they said, "Step aside. Or die trying."
And that, Champ thought as he lunged forward, was exactly the kind of challenge he'd been waiting for.
Chapter End Hook
Rust Unit is spread out, saving civilians. Downtown is chaos: anomalies vs. GAA enforcers. Champ has stumbled directly into a GAA S-rank hero, testing his courage—and unknowingly, the first real trial of his Mimetic Growth.
The question now: Can a low-rank F-rank kid survive his first direct encounter with the world's most powerful law enforcer?