Rain slashed across Neon’s face as he surged forward, boots skidding over slick concrete. He reached Calder just as the boy staggered upright, barely holding against the weight of that sonic blast. Water poured from his soaked clothes, running from his collar. His fingers clutched the crossbow like a lifeline.

Neon grabbed his arm and hauled him up. Thunder cracked overhead like a war drum.

“You good?” Neon asked, voice cutting through the wind—steady, urgent.

Calder coughed, spat blood. Pain rippled across his bruised frame, but his eyes—storm-lit and steady—burned with defiance.

“Aye,” he rasped. “Let’s end this.”

Lightning split the sky again, bathing their mud-streaked faces in blue-white fire. Two lone figures on a broken battlefield, facing a nightmare that refused to die.

The bridge beneath them groaned—planks warped and slick with rain. Every step was a gamble. Beneath the slats, dark water churned, disturbed by heat, wreckage, and flame. Smoke and steam choked the air, stinging every breath.

Calder dropped behind a shattered beam, chest heaving. Hands trembling, he loaded the last of his bolts.

He fired—one, two, three.

Each bolt slammed into the Alpha’s hide with a metallic crack, throwing sparks across its glistening body. A distraction—that’s all he could offer now.

The Alpha turned. Four amber eyes locked on Calder.

It crouched.
A predator poised to kill.

And Neon vanished into motion.

---

He moved like a shadow, weaving through the alley’s skeletal remains, slipping beneath beams and past shards of shattered lantern glass.

Rain soaked through his clothes, stung his skin—but he didn’t stop.

Each step: a heartbeat.
Each breath: a countdown.

Close now.

A blur of metal launched through the air.

S.A.B.R.E. struck like a thunderclap, landing squarely on the Alpha’s back. Mechanical limbs clamped down, crossbows glowing as they unleashed a storm into the beast’s exposed joints.

The Alpha howled, staggering, thrashing—but S.A.B.R.E. held fast.

Neon didn’t miss his chance.

He broke from cover, dagger in hand—etched with sigils, gleaming like lightning in the rain.

With a shout, Neon leapt.

The blade plunged deep—into the cracked seam below the shoulder, where armor met flesh and steam vented through broken bone. It sank to the hilt with a wet, molten hiss.

The Alpha screamed—a guttural roar that shook the bridge like a living quake. Its claws scraped wildly, trying to throw them off.

But Neon held on.

Calder watched, breath caught, as Neon drove the blade home. And though every muscle ached, every nerve screamed—he loaded one last bolt.

He fired.

---

The shot was clean—slamming into the Alpha’s ribs and pinning it against the broken guardrail. The bridge groaned, warping beneath the weight.

Neon stepped back, rain sliding down his face. From his side quiver, he pulled the final bolt.

This one was different.

He held it steady in his palm, breathing deep—then channeled.

Lightning first—a flicker of raw voltage danced along the shaft.
Then wind—coiling tight, sharpening the bolt’s path.
Then fire—an ember blooming beneath the surface, seething.

The rain hissed as the elements fused—a volatile hum of storm and fury.

Neon exhaled.

And loosed it.

The bolt became a streak of silver and stormlight—a thunderclap in motion.

It struck dead center—right into the Alpha’s glowing chest, burying deep in its molten core.

The beast convulsed. Its eyes flared wide.

It screamed—raw, broken, ancient.
Then erupted.

Fire and concussive wind surged outward, flinging steam and rubble.

The Alpha toppled—crashing over the edge.

It slammed into the canal below with a tremendous splash, water and steam erupting skyward. Rain met boiling heat in a violent hiss, cloaking the bridge in mist.

And then—

Silence.

The storm eased.
Wind softened.
Rain slowed to a gentle drizzle, falling like ash.

Neon stood at the bridge’s edge, breathing hard, blade still in hand.

The nightmare was gone.

But the memory lingered—burned into the storm-washed steel of their souls.