The fireball struck with a deafening roar—

a sun igniting at point-blank range.

Heat and light slammed into the creature and cathedral alike, a violent bloom of flame that cracked the air open like thunder.

“Shit! That was a bad idea!” Neon shouted, shielding his face.

S.A.B.R.E.'s projector flickered to life mid-sprint:

YOU THINK?!

For a breathless instant, everything burned.

The crumbling walls were soaked in searing orange, molten gold licking across their surfaces. Flames flailed wildly, casting shadows that twisted like trapped spirits across the ancient stone columns.

The air thickened, choking.
Acrid smoke clawed its way down Neon's throat, ash stinging his eyes beneath the mask's filter.
Burnt wood, scorched flesh, smoldering fabric—the stench soaked into the cathedral's bones.

And the creature screamed.

“S.A.B.R.E… what the hell is that thing?” Neon rasped, backing up.

The bot’s projector flickered to life, cutting through the chaos:

Probably one of your upset customers!

Neon groaned. “This is no time for jokes!”

He was already regretting installing a humor module.

S.A.B.R.E.'s projector blinked again:

Searching database…

Classification: Netherling. Unknown variation.

Conclusion: Mutant. Possibly feral. Definitely pissed.

A raw, alien shriek tore through the cathedral—

like rusted iron dragged across brittle glass.like rusted iron dragged across brittle glass.

It rattled the very air.

The creature's flesh split and burst into flame.

Limbs thrashed violently, snapping in directions no bones should ever bend.

Charred sinew and dripping muscle sprayed across the stone.

Steam hissed where the meat struck—wet, burning, wrong.But the fire wasn't satisfied.

Embers floated free—restless, glowing cinders caught in the dust and decay.
Sparks darted like fireflies made of malice, catching on every dry surface.
Piles of debris smoldered. Crumbling plaster flared to life.

---

The cathedral itself began to groan.
Stone trembled. Support beams cracked. The old bones of the building buckled under heat and strain.

Neon didn't hesitate.

His pulse thundered, a war drum in his chest.
Adrenaline surged like wildfire through his limbs.

He turned sharply, boots grinding against rubble.
His arms swept outward—
Three blazing arcs sliced from his fingertips, cutting through smoke with a hiss, fire licking the air like blades made of wrath.

They struck true—searing into the beast's midsection, cleaving burning furrows through its churning mass.

But it wasn't enough.

The creature shattered—

only to pull itself back together, fluid and fast.

Its charred flesh liquefied midair, droplets swirling in reverse—like blood spatter rewinding in slow motion.

It reformed like smoke sucked into a vacuum, shadows crawling back into a body that refused to die.

Neon staggered back, eyes wide behind the goggles.

“What… are you?” he whispered, watching as the creature tilted its head—almost curious.

His breath rasped, raw and ragged inside the mask.

His chest burned. Muscles trembled.

Mind racing.

It's reforming… like mist. Like it never died.
If I keep fighting it here, this place will collapse around me.
I need space.
I can use rain at my advantage.
Let the sky burn it instead.

He didn't wait.

---

He bolted—feet slamming against fractured stone, crashing through dust and smoke and flickering flame.

S.A.B.R.E. was already with him—
the clicking staccato of its eight mechanical legs like frantic drumbeats, the red glow of its optic core bobbing beside him through the smoke.

Behind them:
A rising roar. A hungry, wet, crawling rage.

Neon hit the ancient cathedral side doors at full speed.

BOOM—

They exploded outward in a cloud of splinters and rusted hinges.
Cold night air rushed in like a scream.

He burst into the storm.

Rain slammed into him—icy, violent, drenching his clothes in an instant.
It soaked through the seams, plastering his coat to his skin, cold slicing across his body like knives made of water.

The world was chaos.

Lightning cracked the sky apart—jagged claws of white tearing through roiling clouds.
The earth shuddered beneath him.
Thunder crashed so loud it shook the breath from his lungs and made the broken stones beneath his boots tremble.

Wind roared, snarling through the cathedral's remains, tearing ash and ember into the night.

Neon stumbled forward, boots slipping on the slick stone.

The mask hissed and flickered as droplets struck its warm surface.
His fingers flared again—flame struggling to live in the rain, but burning nonetheless.

Behind him, the cathedral screamed—
Stone shattered. Wood splintered. Something massive and monstrous surged forward with a howl like a furnace being torn open.

He didn't look back.

Neon skidded across the soaked ground, boots slipping in thick, clinging mud that sucked at his every step.

But the fire failed him.

The moment the spark flickered to life, the relentless rain devoured it—
PSSSHHHT!
Steam hissed from his fingertips, rising like a dying breath, lost in the storm's roar.

He exhaled hard, watching the reaction. Not fire—never fire. This was a test, a calculation. The storm was ravenous, swallowing the heat in an instant. That meant the air was primed, thick with energy. Perfect for lightning.

---

A slow smile curled beneath his mask. The storm thought it was relentless, merciless. Good. That meant it was ready to be wielded.

Rain dripped from the edges of his armored mask, mixing with sweat and grime. His glowing orange goggles sliced through the haze, twin embers in the downpour.

The cold metal of his helm gleamed slick with rain—it clung to him like a second skin, unmoving, unyielding. A shell forged by fire, ready now to command the storm.

Behind him, the Netherling's roar shattered the night.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
Its limbs pounded wet stone, a nightmare gaining speed.

Neon didn't run.

He planted his feet, bracing against the wind, the cold, the chaos.
His breath slowed. His mind sharpened.

And around him—the rain stuttered.

Droplets froze midair, fluttering like caught moths—then stopped entirely.
Hundreds of glimmering crystals suspended around him, held in place by invisible strands of elemental will.

The temperature plunged.
Cold gnawed through his armor. Frost bled from his respirator in ragged clouds, each breath a battle.

His fingers flexed.

And the droplets obeyed.

They hardened—each one twisting into a razor-edged shard, glinting with unnatural precision.
Below, a delicate crust of ice crept along the ground, turning mud to brittle white.

Then—
The Netherling lunged.

Its mouths tore open in a silent scream, limbs spidering outward—dozens of clawed appendages grasping for him through the frozen air.

Neon whispered a word—quiet, but sharp.
And then he unleashed hell.

CRACK—CRACK—CRACK!
A storm of ice burst from his palms, shrieking through the rain like glass daggers fired from a cannon.

They hit hard.

Chest. Shoulders. Legs.
The beast slammed backward—nailed to a gnarled old tree, the bark cracking beneath the force.

It writhed—limbs flailing, mouths screeching, black ichor mixing with rain as it poured down the wood like tar.

Neon took a step forward.
His whole body trembled—muscles aflame, breath ragged beneath the steaming plates of his armor.

Lightning ripped the sky behind him, throwing his silhouette into sharp relief:
Glowing goggles. Ice-streaked metal. A lone figure standing defiant in the downpour.

He stared down the thrashing creature.
Voice low.
Gravel-slick.

"Not done yet, ugly…"

A spark danced in his eyes—anticipation. The kind that came before something devastating, something dazzling. He wasn't just ready. He was eager.