Chapter 34: Rock Bottom
The South Side of Gregor Naught fell eerily silent.
For the briefest of moments, the city seemed to hold its breath, as though even the endless chorus of distant sirens, humming machinery, and restless traffic had paused to witness what was about to happen.
Then the sky shattered.
BOOOOOOOM!!
A figure erupted from the mouth of the underground tunnel like a meteor hurled from the heavens.
It was Daito Greyhell.
His body spun uncontrollably through the air, blood trailing behind him in crimson ribbons before he slammed into the reinforced concrete wall at the far end of the bridge passage with catastrophic force.
KRAAAAAASH!!
The impact pulverised the wall instantly.
Concrete exploded into thousands of jagged fragments as steel reinforcement bars twisted like strands of wire. Chunks of the tunnel ceiling collapsed under the force of the collision, raining debris across the roadway below.
But the destruction wasn't over.
It had only just begun.
Behind Daito came the invisible aftermath of Director Cassian Vanderbi's kick, a single attack so monstrously powerful that it continued travelling long after its target had already been launched away.
The shockwave surged through the tunnel like a tidal wave of devastation.
Cars that had been abandoned on the bridge were ripped from the ground and hurled forward.
Steel guardrails folded like paper.
Entire slabs of asphalt tore loose from the highway.
Collapsed support beams, shattered vehicles, twisted signposts, and mountains of rubble were all swept forward in the violent torrent.
Everything crashed into Daito at once.
BOOOOOOM!!
The wall behind him exploded outward.
Stone burst into dust.
The tunnel entrance ruptured apart as if a bomb had detonated from within, leaving a gaping hole overlooking the streets far below.
Daito's battered body disappeared through the opening.
Down...
Down...
Down...
The cold night wind roared past his ears as gravity claimed him.
For several endless seconds, he simply fell.
Then—
CRRAAAAAASH!!
His body struck the cracked pavement of the South Side with bone-breaking force.
The street buckled beneath him.
Spiderweb fractures spread across the asphalt as fragments of concrete bounced in every direction, and a dark pool of blood slowly began to spread beneath his motionless body.
"...Huff..."
"...Haa..."
Every breath felt like dragging broken glass through his lungs.
Pain consumed him.
His ribs screamed with every inhale.
His muscles refused to answer him.
Even lifting a single finger felt impossible.
Cassian's kick hadn't merely defeated him.
It had nearly destroyed him.
Daito tried to force himself upright.
Nothing happened.
His vision swam in and out of focus, the streetlights above dissolving into blurred halos of white and gold.
His consciousness threatened to slip away.
No...
Not yet...
Move...
Move...
His body ignored every command.
Within seconds, the distant sound of engines echoed through the deserted streets.
Growing louder.
Closer.
VRRRRMMMM...!
SKREEEEEECH!!
Armoured police transports stormed into the intersection, tyres screaming across the broken road as they formed a tight perimeter around the crater where Daito had landed.
More vehicles followed close behind.
Gregor Naught Police.
Defence Force patrol units.
Special Savage Suppression squads.
Heavy armoured doors slammed open one after another.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
Boots struck the pavement in perfect rhythm.
TRUDGE!
TRUDGE!
TRUDGE!
Dozens of armed officers poured from the vehicles with military precision, rifles raised and energy shields deployed as they cautiously surrounded the broken young man lying in the centre of the shattered street.
Not one of them underestimated him.
Even half-dead...
Daito Greyhell was still classified as a Savage.
One officer slowly approached while keeping his weapon trained on Daito's head.
After several tense seconds, he knelt beside him and checked for signs of resistance.
Finding none, he pressed two fingers against the communicator on his ear.
"Target secured."
Immediately, two suppression officers stepped forward carrying reinforced restraint devices designed specifically for Savage-class prisoners.
The metallic cuffs hummed with blue energy as they snapped tightly around Daito's wrists.
CLACK!
Then around his ankles.
CHINK!
Energy surged through the restraints, suppressing the flow of Disorder within his body.
Another officer glanced down at the unconscious swordsman before speaking into his communicator.
"Savage identity confirmed."
"Minimal resistance."
"Begin prisoner transport."
Several guards carefully lifted Daito onto a reinforced transport stretcher built to withstand violent prisoners.
His head rolled weakly to one side.
His breathing remained shallow.
Blood continued dripping from the corner of his mouth.
Yet somehow...
He was still alive.
The convoy wasted no time.
"Move!"
The stretcher was loaded into the rear compartment of an armoured transport truck, thick steel doors sealing shut behind him with a heavy mechanical clang.
CLAAANG!
The engines roared back to life.
Their destination had already been decided.
Iron Bastion.
The prison from which almost no one ever returned.
* * *
Elsewhere, on the opposite side of Gregor Naught, another battle was reaching its inevitable conclusion.
The streets bore the scars of war.
Collapsed buildings leaned precariously over shattered roads.
Broken barricades burned in scattered piles, filling the air with thick black smoke, while overturned military vehicles smouldered beneath flickering streetlights.
The battle between Brandon and Commander Falcatore Needia had pushed both men far beyond their limits.
Several members of the Defence Force lay unconscious across the battlefield, their armour dented and broken from the sheer force of Brandon's relentless attacks.
"Huff..."
"...Haaa..."
Brandon stood alone amidst the destruction.
His enormous chest rose and fell violently as he struggled to catch his breath.
Sweat dripped from his brow.
Bruises covered his arms.
Even someone with his monstrous endurance had begun to reach his limit.
Several metres away, Commander Falcatore remained on one knee.
His breathing was no steadier.
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he planted one hand against the ruined asphalt and slowly forced himself back onto his feet.
For a long moment, neither man moved.
Neither looked away.
Then, with genuine respect in his voice, Falcatore gave a small nod.
"...You're strong."
Brandon narrowed his eyes.
"...You aren't bad yourself."
The commander smiled faintly.
Unfortunately...
The battle had already been decided long before either of them realised it.
A faint whistle cut through the night air.
THWIP!!
One massive tranquiliser dart slammed into Brandon's back.
His eyes widened.
"What—?"
Before he could react—
THWIP!!
A second dart struck.
Then a third.
THWIP!!
And finally—
THWIP!!
A fourth military-grade tranquilliser buried itself deep into his shoulder.
Each syringe was enormous.
Large enough to sedate a charging elephant.
The concentrated sedative flooded Brandon's bloodstream almost instantly.
His breathing became uneven.
His legs trembled beneath his massive frame.
"...Damn..."
His vision blurred.
He tried to take another step.
Instead...
His knees buckled.
CRAAAAASH!!
The giant crashed face-first onto the ruined street, shaking the ground beneath him.
Within seconds, Defence Force soldiers rushed forward from every direction.
TRUDGE!
TRUDGE!
TRUDGE!
Heavy restraint cables wrapped around Brandon's wrists, ankles, and torso before he had the chance to recover.
One officer pressed a hand against his communicator.
"Target down."
Another nodded as additional transport units arrived.
"Begin extraction."
As the unconscious giant was lifted onto a reinforced carrier, Commander Falcatore silently watched the operation unfold.
His expression remained unreadable.
"...It took enough tranquilliser to stop a monster," he muttered quietly.
"...Which means we were fighting one."
The convoy disappeared into the night, carrying another member of the rebellion toward Iron Bastion.
to be continued.....