The tunnel stank of rot and seaweed. Every footstep echoed, bouncing down the long, forgotten corridor beneath Steelport's western docks. The air was thin, every breath dragging in rust and salt.
Bolk's vision swam as blood dripped down his back, the stab wound from Red Fang's first strike gnawing like a brand. But he stayed standing.
"You okay?" Merry asked, her voice low but urgent. Her face was pale, smeared with dirt and blood.
"Yeah," Bolk growled. "Been hit worse."
Red Fang flicked his wrist, spinning his dagger in a lazy circle. The assassin's crimson mask grinned at them, eerie and silent. "You're strong. But strength alone won't help you."
Nomsa pressed a hand against the cut on her leg. Her breath was slow and steady, despite the blade still grazing her neck. "You work for the Iron Baron?"
Red Fang tilted his head. "I serve no one. But I respect power. And the Baron pays well for obedience."
In a blink, he vanished.
Bolk didn't hesitate. He spun, raising his axe just in time to deflect a second strike. Steel sparked against steel. Merry dove sideways, hurling a dagger that barely grazed Red Fang's shoulder.
Nomsa rolled out from under him, grabbing Merry's fallen knife and hurling it toward the assassin's back. Red Fang ducked and countered with a whip-fast kick that struck Bolk in the gut.
Bolk grunted but didn't fall.
"You fight together," Red Fang said, circling. "That's rare in a world like this."
"We're pirates," Merry snapped. "Family doesn't need blood to fight side by side."
Red Fang lunged again.
Above, on the docks
Okada paced along the ruined edge of the harbor, sword drawn, eyes darting. The fire on the Syndicate warship had spread to nearby crates, lighting the sky with hellish orange.
"They should've been here by now," he muttered.
Jack, checking a cracked compass, frowned. "Tunnel exit's beneath that grain tower. I wired a beacon before we landed. But it's silent."
Okada tightened his grip. "Then something's wrong."
He turned to the few remaining townspeople who had gathered, shaken and scared. "Where's the entrance to the lower sewer access? Now."
An old fisherman pointed with a trembling hand. "Just there. By the old warehouse."
Okada didn't wait. He dashed.
Back underground
Bolk roared, swinging his axe with both hands. Red Fang ducked, slid beneath the blow, and kicked him square in the knee. Bolk's leg buckled, but his hands shot out and caught Red Fang mid-roll, lifting the assassin with brute strength.
"Got you!" Bolk bellowed, slamming the masked killer into the tunnel wall. Stone cracked.
Red Fang grunted. But instead of resisting, he dropped a smoke pellet at his feet. The tunnel filled with black fog.
"Stay sharp!" Merry shouted.
Suddenly, a wire wrapped around Nomsa's neck, dragging her backward.
"Nomsa!"
Merry lunged, slicing the wire with her blade, while Bolk hurled a piece of rubble toward the noise. A scream followed.
The smoke cleared. Red Fang knelt by the wall, one arm dangling uselessly—dislocated from Bolk's throw. His mask had cracked. One eye stared out—cold and calculating.
"You win this round," he rasped. "But the Baron's eyes are everywhere."
Before they could reach him, he dropped a black flare and vanished into a secret crawlspace.
Nomsa coughed. "He's gone."
"For now," Bolk growled.
Footsteps echoed down the tunnel—familiar ones. Okada appeared, sword drawn, eyes wild.
"You're late," Merry said dryly.
"Sorry," Okada huffed. "I had to sink a ship."
They shared a laugh—brief, pained, but real.
Later, at the hideout
Jack reconnected with the others as the crew holed up in a safehouse inside the ruins of an old cathedral overlooking Steelport's outskirts.
Nomsa lay on a table, Merry rewrapping her wound. Bolk sat beside a candle, sharpening his axe in silence. Okada stared out the shattered window at the moonlit bay, where the remains of the Syndicate ship burned.
Jack entered the room, setting down a scorched piece of machinery.
"I got something from the ship's bridge," he said. "It's a map. But not of Steelport."
Okada turned. "Then of what?"
Jack hesitated. "Of other Syndicate bases. Across the North Blue."
Silence fell.
"This isn't just a skirmish," Nomsa whispered. "It's a war."
Okada nodded. "Then we're going to fight it. One flame at a time."