The pounding of their boots echoed sharply against wet stone as Neon, Calder, and S.A.B.R.E. ran alongside the canal's edge. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and riverweed, laced with the distant tang of smoke. Lightning flickered overhead, briefly illuminating the shadowed alleyways.

Neon's hand shot forward, pointing toward a barricade up ahead.
"Over there! Just ahead—the barricade!"
They pushed forward, hearts hammering, eyes locked on their goal.

Closer now, the scene came into focus—a tightly packed crowd pressed against a closed gate. Polished knights stood like statues, halberds gleaming in the fading stormlight. Faces streaked with grime and tears. Slum families clung to each other—some pleading, others silent. Children whimpered softly, clutching ragged blankets, wide-eyed with fear.

Calder’s gaze swept the crowd, brow furrowing.
"Somethin's wrong..."

---

Neon pushed through, weaving between the restless civilians. The clank of armor and low murmurs surrounded him.
"What the hell’s happenin’?" he demanded.

A cold, trembling hand gripped his arm. A slum woman—soaked, gaunt—lifted her face to his, eyes desperate.
"They won’t let us through. Said it’s for the inner city people only..."
Her voice cracked like brittle glass.

Neon’s jaw tightened. The faint hiss of his respirator cut through the rain.
"They're what?"

A Knight stepped forward, halberd lowering to block the way.
"Orders," he said coldly. "Prioritize citizen-class evacuees. Back away."

Neon stepped in, slow and deliberate, eyes locked on the armored wall in front of him.
"These people are citizens," he said, voice low but burning. "What’re you guarding if not them?"

Rain hammered the street. Silence grew heavy.

The Knight stiffened.
"Sir, you’re armed and unregistered. Stand down."

Calder moved in beside Neon, calm but firm.
"Let’s not pick a fight here, lad..."

But Neon was already stepping forward, fury crackling in the air.
"There’s a pack of monsters four blocks back, tearing people apart—and you’re drawing lines over birth papers?"

The words hit like stones in a pond. Another Knight reached for Neon’s arm—
—but he tore free, voice rising raw and unrelenting.
"People are dying!"

---

The crowd held its breath—caught between fear, fury, and a fragile hope.

The lead Knight faltered, voice barely above the rain.
"We don’t have orders to accept anyone else..."

Neon moved in, lightning arcing faintly along his fingers. His dagger glinted at his side, humming with restrained charge.

"You’re gettin’ new ones," he said—calm, but thunderous.

S.A.B.R.E. stepped into view, its glowing eyes casting ghostlight on the damp stones. Calder flexed his fingers, tools raised in quiet readiness.

Neon’s voice hardened to tempered steel.
"Open the gate. Or I will."

Another Knight stepped forward—a captain. His halberd sparked with arcane fire.
"Evac zone's full. Turn back. Or be treated as hostile. Final warning."

A desperate father broke through the crowd, hoisting his wounded daughter over the barricade.
"She’s hurt! Please—just take her—"

CRACK.
Blue-white energy lashed out.
The man and child tumbled back—screams tearing through the stunned crowd.

ZRAKKT!
THUD—SCREAMING.

Neon’s eyes burned. His voice dropped to a growl.
"You’re killing them..."

The crowd erupted—shouts, curses, grief swelling like a wave.

Slum Voices (overlapping):
"Bastards!"
"Let us in!"
"They're dying out here!"

The barricade trembled under the weight of rising chaos.