The timer was about to hit zero and Claire slowly pulled herself up the shaft, opening the hatch and jumped up, she cleared the area and whistled to signal the others to come up. The area was a cleared parking lot, filled with vehicles. Slowly the team came up securing the place. Claire opened her backpack and pulled out two remote controls, and handed one to Agent Deva. "Our comrades are ready and are waiting for the distraction to commence."
She activated the remote control and a vehicle turned itself on, "Thanks Melissa." She thought to herself, and then sequenced the path for the vehicle to go, the Police station was just across the road, and by the looks of it was not at all ready for the attack. One person stood guard, the whole building was closed off with razor wires and tall spearlike fence posts. The building itself was three storeys, made of red brick, making it stand strikingly apart from its surroundings.
The whole group - Fred, Andre, Lyla, Roza and Claire. Andre was ready with his heavy machine gun, two short spears were attached to his back, he wore the urban guerilla getup, an overcoat with strengthened leather, colored black with red stripes. Lyla was a blue haired girl, one glimpse of her seemed to make people think she was just a teen, she had our double smgs ready, Roza was a girl with a black ponytail, she had a slash-scar across her face vertically in the center, she towered over the rest of her squad. And Claire, the leader with the red hair, she never used guns, she brandished a rapier and a buckler making her distinct among the group. But all of them had melee weapons ready, guns were ineffective against higher tier enemies. And Agent Deva, with his rifle, stood ready to move out.
The car lurched forward, engine roaring as it accelerated toward the police station. The streets were empty, nightlife was banned with the curfew, thus any movement echoed through the night. Then the car ran through the front gates, past the guard. Then a few seconds later, the area in the center of the building exploded, creating a hole in the main building, a supersonic wave ruptured the peace of the night. Even the squad's hairs become slightly disheveled. "Melissa never disappoints." Lyla giggled. Then came the groans and the alarm went off. Like aerial sirens, they bleated into the night.
Everyone went into positions, they were to secure the police station then taunt the knights to fight them. With Claire leading the assault, they quickly secured the front gate.
They approached the building single file, the building lost power right after the blast, so it was pitch black. A couple of mangled corpses could be seen, yet the cops were swift in their response, in the top room, someone was ordering commands to secure their building.
The moment Claire's boot crossed the threshold, the darkness erupted. Muzzle flashes lit the corridor like strobes-cops crouched behind overturned desks, their panicked gunfire wild and uncoordinated. Lyla's SMGs answered first, stitching the walls with neon tracers. "Eyes up! Second floor!" Roza barked, her voice slicing through the chaos as a grenade clattered down the stairs. Agent Deva lunged, magic flaring at his fingertips. The grenade hovered mid-fall-a split-second gift of stolen momentum-before he hurled it back upward. The blast painted the ceiling in fire, raining plaster and screams.
"Push!" Claire's rapier gleamed as she parried a cop's bayonet, her buckler smashing his jaw. Andre's machine gun roared, shredding body armor like paper. A bullet grazed Deva's shoulder-he barely flinched, his rifle snapping to a silhouette in the shadows. Click. Empty. He dropped the mag, reloaded, fired. The cop crumpled.
"They're flanking!" Roza snarled, lobbing a smoke canister. The hallway drowned in gray. Deva's Night-eyes burned as figures blurred-a cop lunged from the haze, knife raised. Natalie's glaive intercepted, the blade singing as it carved through bone. "You're welcome," she hissed, vanishing again into the smoke.
Deva's tattoos itched - the Inquisitor's eyes were always watching.
Glass shattered above. A sniper's bullet grazed past Lyla's thigh. She collapsed, swearing, as Roza dragged her behind cover. "Still pretty, bitch!" Lyla spat, firing securing her position. Across the room, Claire dueled a hulking sergeant, their blades screaming. The sergeant grinned-until Andre's spear pinned his boot to the floor. Claire's rapier found his throat.
"Clear!" Roza yelled, blood streaking her scar. But the silence rang hollow. Somewhere deeper in the station, radios crackled. "Requesting support. I repeat. Requesting support !"
Claire wiped her blade. "Move. Before the Seraphim sing."
The rebels advanced, boots crunching glass, the shadows ahead swallowing the light whole.
Agent Deva then activated the second bomb, the vehicle rushed towards the Golden Sylum. But before it could push through the front door of the building, a heavy armored knight with six wings landed on the vehicle. Just as it was about to open its mouth, the vehicle exploded with the same amount of damage as the first one, the supersonic wave pushing the knight to hit the Golden Sylum's wall, implanting its imprint on the cobblestone walls.
The Seraphim tore free from the Golden Sylum's wall, its six wings shrieking as they gouged deep scars into the stone. Its helmet split open, a mouth of serrated teeth spilling a corrosive hymn that melted the cobblestones. Lyla stumbled, retching as the sound clawed at her eardrums. "Eyes on its sword!" Claire barked, her rapier blazing with rebel magic-a swirling helix of fire that forced the Seraphim's gaze. Bullets sparked harmlessly off the Seraphim's armor-holy steel required better magic or stronger force to pierce.
Agent Deva lunged, ISB suppression magic flaring in his palms. He grabbed the Seraphim's wrist mid-swing, the creature's holy blade searing his flesh. With a grunt, he wrenched the weapon free-a serrated longsword thrumming with celestial energy-and spun it in a savage arc. The blade bit into the Seraphim's armored thigh, ichor spraying. "Distract it!" he roared.
Andre answered, hurling a spear wrapped with Melissa's frost-runes. It exploded at the Seraphim's feet, encasing its legs in ice. The knight staggered-but not for long. Its wings glowed white-hot, melting the frost. Roza charged, her scarred face twisted in a snarl. She slammed her reinforced gauntlet into the Seraphim's chest, buying seconds. "Now, Ly!"
Lyla tossed her SMGs aside and clapped, unleashing an advanced rebel soundwave spell. The air rippled, bending the Seraphim's hymn back into its throat. The creature gagged, its song silenced. Natalie materialized from the shadows, her glaive slashing a blood-magic sigil into the ground. "Bind it!" she screamed.
Claire plunged her rapier into the sigil, channeling raw fire. Deva rammed the stolen longsword beside it, ISB magic crackling. Andre and Roza added their spears, ice and lightning flaring. The spells fused-a lattice of elemental chains that coiled around the Seraphim. It thrashed, wings snapping two chains, but the rebels held, veins bulging as their magic strained.
Then the Iron Verdicts arrived.
Three knights in blackened plate armor crashed into the square, their warhammers crackling with storm magic. "Shit-flanking left!" Roza yelled, abandoning the sigil to tackle the nearest Verdict. Andre followed, his machine gun peppering the second knight's visor-useless, but it bought time.
The Seraphim roared, breaking free. Its sword-arm reformed in a burst of light, swinging for Deva's head-but a glaive hooked its elbow. Natalie, half-visible in the smoke, wrenched the blade off-course. "Infiltration team's here!" she hissed.
A flare burst overhead-green, the signal. From the Sylum's ruins, the infiltration team emerged, Gonov leading a haggard man in chains: Georg. Melissa's drones swarmed the square, spewing acid smoke. "Go!" Gonov shouted, sniper fire pinning the third Iron Verdict.
The Seraphim lunged for Georg, but Claire intercepted, her buckler deflecting its sword with a shower of sparks. "Deva-now!" Her buckled shattered into pieces but in that moment a spell activated and connected the pieces and reconnected the buckler to its original condition.
Deva slammed the stolen longsword into the ground, unleashing a stolen hymn-a distorted mimicry of the Seraphim's own power. The blade screamed, light erupting in a blinding nova. The Seraphim recoiled, wings shielding its face.
"Retreat!" Claire ordered. The rebels scattered into the smoke, Natalie and Gonov covering their flank. Deva hurled Georg toward the alley. 'Run."
The Seraphim's howl shook the city, Melissa's 'fireflies' swarmed the Iron Verdicts, their acid melting armor joints as Gonov's magic traps found eye-slits. The rebels vanished into the sewers, the Seraphim's wrath crumbling buildings in their wake.
They didn't win. They survived. Barely.
In the tunnels, Georg embraced Deva, his voice raw. "You're a damn fool."
The rebels staggered into the sewers, Georg's weight sagging against Natalie as sewage sloshed at their ankles. Claire's hands still trembled from channeling the binding sigil. "Deva-keep up!" she hissed, turning-A shadow fell across the tunnel.
Cold seeped into the air, snuffing the rebels' Night-eyes like candle flames. Agent Deva froze, his stolen Seraphim sword slipping from burnt fingers. "No," he whispered.
The Inquisitor descended from the sewer grate, his boots hissing against the wet stone, The sewer rats burst into black flame as the Inquisitor stepped closer, their squeals dying in his shadow. The skull engraved on his helmet glowed crimson, its hollow eyes bleeding tendrils of dread magic. The same yellow pupils from the candlelit room now burned behind the bone visage. "Agent Deva," he rasped, voice like a scalpel on glass. "You disappoint."
Deva lunged first, a desperate roar tearing from his throat. The Seraphim's sword flared in his grip, holy light clashing against the Inquisitor's void-black aura. For a heartbeat, Deva's strikes were a blur-ISB suppression magic and rebel spells fused into a storm of silver and flame. He parried a whip of shadow, ducked a scythe of frost, and almost landed a cut on the Inquisitor's throat.
"You could've been my successor," the Inquisitor sighed. He raised a gauntleted hand.
Dread magic congealed.
The sewer walls wept blood. The rebels collapsed, choking on nightmares made flesh. Georg retched, visions of his execution flooding his mind. Only Deva stood, teeth gritted, his tattoos melting under the strain of resisting.
"Run!" Deva snarled at Claire. "Take Georg and-"
The Inquisitor flicked his wrist.
Deva's sword shattered. Ribs snapped as an invisible force slammed him into the ceiling, then crushed him into the floor. Blood pooled beneath him, mingling with sewage. The Inquisitor knelt, gripping Deva's hair to lift his broken face. "You hid your strength well. A Seraphim's blade? Clever. But this-" He pressed a thumb to Deva's forehead. "-is the Monarch's mark, engraved in your soul. You have failed your test. The Monarch offered you Georg's life for your loyalty. You chose rebellion."
A sigil burned into Deva's skin-the Inquisitor's skull, searing through flesh. Deva screamed, his magic snuffed out like a match in a storm.
Claire lunged, rapier blazing-but the Inquisitor backhanded her without looking. She crumpled, her buckler cracking. "Pathetic," he murmured. "Take the traitor. The Monarch will… cleanse him."
Black-clad ISB agents materialized, dragging Deva's limp body into the shadows.
As the Inquisitor vanished, the rebels were long gone, Georg's sobs echoing through the tunnels.
The infiltration team regrouped in a derelict chapel, Georg shaking by the altar. Claire stared at her cracked buckler, Deva's blood still staining its edge. "He knew," she whispered. "He knew the Inquisitor would come."
Natalie sharpened her glaive, eyes hollow. "He sacrificed himself. Let us. Let Georg."
Above them, the city's speakers crackled to life. "Everything halted. No one is allowed to go on with their day. Rebel scum have attacked a police station. Failure to comply is death."
Georg smashed his fist against the wall. "We have to save him!"
Claire's voice was steel. "We can't. Not from that." She nodded to the chapel's shattered stained glass-a Seraphims silhouette prowled the smog, and beyond it, the Inquisitor's dread magic stained the horizon.
Deva had held back a Seraphim. The Inquisitor crushed him like a roach.
The message was clear: the rebellion was a spark. The Monarch's light/shadow was a tyrannical storm.
But sparks, Claire thought, staring at Deva's blood on her hands, could ignite infernos.