The bass was still thumping when the room erupted.

Wavi barely got to his feet before Jelly-Twin Daggers lunged from the dance floor, her twin blades slashing low and fast, arcs of bio-electric light trailing behind. He caught the first strike with his forearm—his Mantis Shrimp Knuckleduster flaring in response—and retaliated with a crushing hook.

She spun like liquid, ducking low and sliding across the floor like a gliding stingray. The club screamed around them as patrons scattered. Drinks shattered. Holo-lights glitched.

Soule stood, arms wide, grinning like a madman.

“Y’all want a show? Let’s GO!”

From the smoke, Urchin Core Tank burst forward, a walking wall of spiked shell and thudding boots. He barreled toward Soule, who rolled off the table, letting the brute smash straight through the booth.

Barracuda Lancer flickered in beside him—blink-fast, stabbing forward with a tide-spear. Soule barely dodged, cape fluttering, using the crowd as cover.

Wavi and Daggers clashed again—her blades biting air, his fists leaving sonic shudders in the walls. One connected—a clean gut shot. Daggers folded but rolled away with a hiss, her gear flaring purple.

The crowd surged, screaming. Some filmed. Some ran.

Soule vaulted off the wall and threw a mimic burst from his gloves:

“Time to swim or sink, son!”

The echo confused Lancer long enough for Soule to land a boot to his chest. But Urchin came up behind, spine-shell bursting outward.

Soule screamed as electricity wrapped around his torso—paralyzing, buzzing.

“No—!” Wavi roared, throwing a full body tackle at Daggers.

She stabbed him in the shoulder. Hard.

Blood sprayed. Wavi fell.

In the chaos, the Wayfarers surrounded Soule, binding him in glowing kelp-wire and dragging him through the broken wall toward a bio-shuttle that had surfaced in the alley.

A camera caught the last glimpse: Soule, smiling weakly, flashing two fingers to the air before vanishing around the corner.

Scene: Mandark’s Lab

“…and now the glove outputs 4800 volts,” Martinaz said clinically. “We also added capacitive arc flick and motion charge recall. Side effects include localized numbness and hyper-sensitive nerve returns.”

Tye stared at the glove. It shimmered with that eerie eel-print finish, threads subtly humming.

“Meaning?”

Martinaz blinked. “Your arm will go dead for 4.6 minutes post full-voltage release. Don’t punch afterward.”

Tye flexed his fingers. “Cool.”

Mandark clapped. “One-man EMP pulse field. I knew you had it in you.”

Before the glow could set in, Tye’s holophone buzzed.

Wavi.

Static. Screaming. Club sounds.

“Tye—bro—they took him. They took Soule! I couldn’t stop it. I tried—I—”

The call cut.

Tye’s face paled. “They took Soule.”

Mandark’s grin faded.

“Play in dirt, you get dirty,” he said, then stood, pacing. “We’ll get him back. But first, I need Wave to bring in the map. Then I’ll show you how we’re gonna break into Eclipse.”

Scene: The Choir’s Shuttle – Unknown Depth

Soule groaned, strapped to a seaweed-thread harness in a low-lit chamber. He blinked up to see Tadpole Slim, her Immortal Jellyfish Top glowing an agitated red-orange.

“I was vibin’, you know,” he muttered. “Why you gotta ruin the party?”

Tadpole stared. “Your energy is dissonant. Your rhythm pulses wrong.”

“You just mad I got better bars than your whale chants.”

She narrowed her eyes. The tendrils on her top flared like jellyfish rage.

“I will ask one time. Where are the crates?”

Soule grinned. “You can take my voice, lady. But I’m not givin’ up my verse.”

Tadpole exhaled, long and slow. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Then prepare to drown in silence.”