The room was dim, lit only by a flickering filament bulb overhead. Its faint buzz was almost lost beneath the hiss of steam leaking from the pipes embedded in the walls. Marrec’s office smelled of rust, old parchment, and machine oil—a combination that clung stubbornly to the corners, where crates of disassembled tech sat like forgotten relics.

  Kaelen stood beside Verona, his gaze fixed on Marrec. The tension between them was thick enough to taste.

  “We need to go first,” Kaelen said, voice low but firm. “We’ll find your daughter and get her out.”

  Marrec’s hands clenched the edge of his desk, knuckles whitening. “How… how are you going to do that?” His voice cracked, carrying the weight of fear and doubt.

  Verona leaned forward slightly, eyes sharp. “The senior guards are coming back. Would they know, Marrec?”

  Marrec exhaled slowly, eyes distant, shadowed by painful memories. “They’re the ones who always escort me to her during visits…”

  Kaelen’s fingers twitched. Tiny sparks of electricity danced along his skin. “Then we get them. A little persuasion. Light torture, get the info, and bolt.”

  Verona raised an eyebrow. “Okay—but keep it controlled. Don’t let them pass out.”

  Kaelen smirked faintly. “I know, I know.”

  A tense silence fell. The room vibrated softly with anticipation. Verona leaned against the wall near the door, arms crossed, while Kaelen paced, the air around his fingertips crackling. Marrec remained stiff in his chair, breathing shallow, caught between hope and dread.

  Deep beneath the complex, Lysera and Luka crouched in the half-dark of the sewer passage, water lapping quietly around their boots.

  “They should be back by now,” Lysera muttered, eyes flicking toward the hatch above.

  Luka checked his gear calmly. “Relax. If the alarm had tripped, we’d know. Guards would be moving toward us.”

  Lysera exhaled, shoulders loosening slightly. “Yeah… you’re right.”

  Footsteps echoed from above—the measured cadence of armored boots.

  “Where are the newbies?” one voice called.

  “I swear, when I see them—they’re so fired,” the other grumbled.

  Then came the flash of crimson. Verona struck like fire, her movements fluid and instantaneous. Both Senior Guards slammed into Marrec’s office before they could react, the door clicking shut behind them.

  Kaelen raised a hand, summoning a sphere of shimmering wind. The air warped with a faint hum, a soundproof bubble enclosing the room. Verona’s eyes darted to the corridor outside, blade half-drawn.

  Inside, Kaelen stepped forward, electricity curling along his fingers. “Where is she?”

  The first Senior Guard sneered, spitting at Kaelen’s boots. “No way. I’ll be dead before I tell you.”

  Kaelen’s jaw tightened. A snap of his fingers sent a bolt of lightning across the guard’s body. He convulsed, smoke curling from his collar, then collapsed unconscious.

  The second Senior Guard’s face went pale. He stumbled back, eyes wide with fear. “Do you… want some?” Kaelen’s fingers crackled faintly.

  “The… cramped apartment tower. South of here,” he whispered, voice shaking. A dark stain spread down his trousers as he sank to his knees.

  Kaelen grinned. “Now that’s a good bad guy.” Another jolt knocked him unconscious, leaving him alive but thoroughly subdued.

  The bubble dissipated with a hiss.

  “Cramped apartment tower, south of here,” Kaelen confirmed.

  Verona’s eyes narrowed. “Did you kill one of them?”

  “No,” Kaelen said, already moving toward the door. “Marrec, wear their uniforms. We walk out front like we belong.”

  Marrec nodded, stripping the unconscious Senior Guards of their jackets. Verona knelt, pressing fingers to each neck. A faint pulse. Relief exhaled through her teeth.

  Kaelen tapped the communicator in his collar. A faint crystal hummed, transmitting a whisper. “Luka, Lys—we’ve got Marrec. Disguised as guards, heading out front. Meet us at the cramped apartment tower south.”

  Lysera’s voice crackled back. “Wait… what? Are you guys okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. Meet us there,” Kaelen replied.

  “…Okay. Be careful,” she murmured, comms going silent.

  Lysera and Luka moved deeper into the sewer, boots sloshing through ankle-deep water, torchlight flickering across damp stone, shadows dancing like ghosts along the walls.

  Fourth Floor, Old Foundry – Disguised as guards

  Kaelen adjusted the stiff collar of his stolen uniform, glancing at Marrec. The engineer’s shoulders were tight, eyes flicking nervously down the hall.

  “Marrec, stay calm,” Kaelen murmured. “If they salute, don’t react. Just nod and keep moving.”

  Marrec swallowed hard and gave a tight nod. “Got it.”

  They descended the iron stairs, boots thudding dully against rust-stained steps. The air reeked of old oil and corroded metal, faint light flickering from half-dead wall sconces. Verona led the way, Kaelen shadowed the rear, and Marrec shuffled between them, trying to match their confident stride.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  The second and third floors passed without incident.

  On the first floor, two patrolling guards rounded a corner. One looked up and saluted sharply.

  “Sir,” he said.

  Marrec’s body jolted instinctively—a flicker of hesitation—but he recovered, nodding stiffly while keeping his gaze forward. Verona’s jaw tightened, Kaelen’s hand twitched near the hilt of his dagger.

  The lobby was next. A lone guard at the gate raised an eyebrow.

  “Shift done, sir?”

  Marrec forced an easy smile, improvising smoothly. “Yeah. Heading to the bar. Could use something strong tonight.”

  The guard grinned. “Heh. Can’t blame you. Have a good night, sir.”

  “Thank you,” Marrec replied.

  The gate creaked open. No alarms. No shouts. The night air hit them like a soft blessing.

  Outside the Foundry – Moments later

  They walked several blocks in silence, keeping the measured stride of guards on patrol. Once in a shadowed alley, Luka and Lysera emerged from the darkness, arms crossed, eyes alert.

  “Took you long enough,” Lysera said, voice sharp but amused. “Honestly, I thought Kaelen was gonna mess everything up.”

  “Hey!” Kaelen shot back, mock offense in his grin. “I was smooth the whole way. Verona, back me up.”

  Verona’s deadpan stare met his. “Surprisingly… he was efficient. Even quiet.”

  “What do you mean, surprisingly?” Kaelen asked, one eyebrow raised.

  Luka chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, children. Focus. How do we get her out without the entire garrison on us?”

  Kaelen’s grin widened. “I’ve got a plan. Verona, can you shake the ground? Just enough to get the guards running.”

  Verona’s brow furrowed. “I’d have to go full beast to make it work. You sure?”

  “You make the earth dance,” Kaelen said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “They rush out. I fly us to the rooftop extraction point while chaos unfolds below.”

  Lysera’s skeptical gaze pierced him. “That’s insane. We should just do it like last time.”

  “I don’t want last time,” Kaelen replied, hands spreading in mock exasperation. “I was stressed the whole night. Nearly lost a kidney.”

  Luka tapped his chin thoughtfully, nodding. “Actually… I like Kaelen’s plan. Bold. Fast. We don’t get caught.”

  “Thank you,” Kaelen said smugly, clearly savoring the approval.

  Lysera groaned softly. “Oh boy…”

  The plan was set. Timing and chaos were all that remained. The night stretched before them, quiet now, but alive with tension—the calm before the storm.

  The stench of rot and mildew clung to the cramped apartment tower like a curse. Its frame leaned precariously, spine bowed and splintered by time. Rusted pipes ran along its surface like exposed veins; warped beams jutted from the walls like jagged ribs. Every window was either shattered or crudely boarded, allowing only thin slivers of moonlight to pierce the gloom.

  Marrec stared at the entrance, fists clenched, jaw tight. His breaths came shallow, tremors running through him.

  “I still can’t believe they put her in a place like this… as if she’s nothing,” he muttered.

  Kaelen adjusted his borrowed guard uniform, glancing back. “We’ll get her back, sir. What’s her name?”

  Marrec exhaled, tension warring with relief. “Lira… Lira Dovail. She’s got auburn hair, like her mother… and blue eyes. Bright.”

  Luka’s expression hardened. “We’ll bring her home. You have my word.” He turned to Verona, who rolled her shoulders, muscles coiling. “Alright, you’re up.”

  Her eyes, marked with the faint crimson of her beast form, glinted in the dim light. She inhaled deeply, exhaling with a guttural growl. Bones and muscles shifted beneath her skin with a series of cracks and pops. Crimson fur erupted along her arms and back, jagged claws extending from her fingers. Her height doubled in moments; her face sharpened into a lupine mask of predatory power. Steam hissed from her nostrils as the final ripples of transformation settled.

  Instinctively, the others fell into formation behind her. Verona padded toward the building’s side, claws scraping faintly against the ground. She glanced back, eyes glowing.

  “Hang on,” she growled, voice low and calm.

  With a savage strike, her fists slammed into the earth. The ground groaned in reply. A deep quake surged outward, rattling the tower and sending birds into the sky. Windows shattered, dust cascading from every seam. Inside, guards screamed in panic.

  “Earthquake!”

  “Get out—run!”

  Kaelen grinned. “Showtime.” He swept his hand skyward. Wind surged beneath their feet like a living current, lifting the team in one sweeping motion. Marrec yelped as he was pulled upward until Verona’s massive claw clamped gently over his mouth mid-air.

  They landed on the rooftop with controlled impact, gravel scattering beneath their boots.

  “Told you it works,” Kaelen said, smirking.

  “Not the time, Kaelen,” Luka said dryly, scanning the streets below. “Find her—before they realize we’re not rubble.”

  Kaelen closed his eyes, pressing his palm to the roof. Wind slithered through cracks and vents like invisible scouts. A breath. A heartbeat. Second floor. Behind a locked door.

  He opened his eyes. “Second floor. She’s alone. Locked in.”

  “Move,” Luka commanded.

  They slipped down the stairwell, feet silent against the creaking boards. The hallway outside Lira’s room reeked of rot and mold, narrow and dimly lit by a damaged emergency light.

  The door was a thick, reinforced slab of metal, chained shut. Luka drew his blade. “Step back.”

  With a single fluid stroke, the chain and hinges yielded. The door buckled and crashed inward.

  Inside, a girl sat huddled, tangled auburn hair framing wide, startled blue eyes. She clutched a frayed blanket.

  “Who are you?!” she demanded.

  Marrec stepped into the light, voice trembling. “Lira…”

  Her lips quivered. “Dad? I thought you weren’t allowed to visit until tomorrow.”

  “I couldn’t wait,” he choked out. “Not one more day.”

  He pulled her into his arms, her face pressed to his chest. “It’s okay now. These people—they’re here to save us.”

  “We need to move. Rooftop—now,” Luka said, checking the stairwell.

  The group climbed swiftly. Outside, returning guards shouted and scrambled—too late. Kaelen’s winds surged again, lifting them silently into the night.

  They touched down in the alley beyond the building. Lysera’s eyes widened in impressed disbelief. “Since when could you do that?”

  “Do not question my talents,” Kaelen said, smug.

  “Let’s get back to base,” Lysera rolled her eyes.

  Marrec and Lira lagged, exhausted. Luka spotted a shadowed smithy ahead. “There—rest for a moment.”

  Inside, the cold forge was silent. Dust blanketed old tools, a cracked anvil resting like a forgotten relic. Lira leaned against a soot-stained wall, breathing hard.

  “I thought they’d killed you…” she whispered.

  “And I thought I’d never see you again,” Marrec replied, holding her tightly.

  “I’m so sorry… this happened because of me,” he murmured.

  “It’s okay. It’s over now, right?” she whispered back.

  Luka’s gaze sharpened. A faint glow at her neck caught his eye. “Lira… that gem. Where’d you get it?”

  She touched a pendant—a small crystal emitting a faint light. “They gave it to me… said they’d kill my dad if I took it off.”

  Luka’s face paled. “It’s a tracker.”

  “What?” Kaelen muttered.

  Verona tensed. “How long has she—?”

  Before she could finish—

  BOOOOOOM.

  The smithy’s front wall erupted inward. Flames licked through dust and debris. A shockwave threw ash and steel shavings across the floor.

  From the smoke, a towering figure emerged, clad in black armor. Jet-black boosters hissed from his back. His gauntlets bristled with micro-missile pods, retractable blades, and wrist-mounted cannons. His helmet gleamed like obsidian under the moonlight.

  Behind him, a squad of Auren Sentinels advanced with silent precision.

  His voice, gravel-thick and modulated through a war mask, cut through the chaos. “You’ve taken what’s mine.”

  He raised an arm; the whine of charging plasma filled the air. “Now… I take your lives.”

  ? 2025 Damien Shard. All rights reserved. This story and all characters are original creations of the author. First released on Royal Road. Unauthorized reproduction, distribution, or publication in any form is strictly prohibited.