The moonlight finally broke through the heavy shroud of clouds, shedding a pale glow over the world once more. But what should have been a serene, almost poetic illumination instead revealed a nightmare.
The haven was in ruins. The deeper layers, once lined with homes and markets, had been reduced to rubble.
Blood mixed with the mud, severed limbs strewn among shattered stone and broken glass. What had once been a thriving settlement was now a graveyard—obliterated by a single creature.
Inaki moved without hesitation, his hook swords carving through the air as he lunged at the myutant. He wove around its towering form, steel flashing as he tore through its abdomen in a sweeping arc.
The creature was powerful, undeniably so. But it couldn't fight. Not properly. Its movements were sluggish, awkward—like something that had only just learned what combat was.
Its upper torso began to slide, severed cleanly from its legs, but even as it fell, the flesh writhed, beginning the process of regeneration.
"Not so fast!" Inaki roared, his boot slamming into its chest.
The force sent the top half of the myutant crashing into a crumbling wall, embedding it deep within the wreckage. Its lower half collapsed uselessly to the ground.
For a moment, the battlefield was silent. The mutant showed no signs of regenerating.
But Inaki wasn't taking any chances.
Inaki dashed forward, his chained hook swords whirling through the air before wrapping tight around the creature's neck. With a sharp tug in opposite directions, the crossed blades tightened like a noose, digging deep into its flesh until—
Snap.
The myutant's head tore free, rolling across the ground in a wet thud.
Inaki staggered back, clutching his torso. Pain flared through his body—a sharp reminder of the earlier attack that had slammed him into the wall. A loose piece of metal had pierced through his overcoat, lodging deep into his back. If not for the resilient material, it would've skewered him clean through.
He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus. His eyes flickered to the severed body, watching for movement.
Nothing.
All three pieces—the head, the upper torso, and the legs—lay still in their respective places, lifeless. No twitching. No regeneration.
Good.
Even the most advanced T-level five myutants couldn't regenerate from a clean decapitation. No matter how powerful their healing factor, if the head was severed, the fight was over.
Or at least, it should've been.
A wet squelch broke the silence.
From the severed head, something burst outward—a spray of thick blood and splintering bone. In the blink of an eye, a new body sprouted mid-air, twisting and reforming into its monstrous shape before landing on steady feet.
Looming over him.
Regenerating from only a head was the same as creating life from an atom, or a drop of blood.
It was impossible, but the myutant didn't seem to care.
Inaki barely had time to react before the myutant lunged, its arm blurring through the rain in a crushing arc. It was the same attack that had blindsided him before—the one that had sent him flying.
Not this time.
He ducked low, pain exploding through his side as the movement tore at his wound. Blood spilled down his back, mixing with the rain.
He had to counter. Fast.
Swinging upward, he snapped his hook swords toward the creature's arm, aiming to sink his blades in and drag it down.
But his swords barely left a scratch.
The myutant's flesh had already hardened mid-motion, its regeneration reinforcing the impact zones. The blades clanged off, bouncing back toward him.
Inaki's stomache sank.
"Justhowstrongisthisthing!"
Changing its trajectory, the creature's fist crashed into the ground, carving out a deep crater where Inaki had stood just moments before. Dirt and rubble exploded into the air, swallowed instantly by the downpour.
There was no beating this thing.
Inaki already knew that.
But Alsa had gotten away. His job was done.
He could leave now—try to run while he still had the strength. It would be the smart thing to do. The logical thing. His body was screaming for him to stop, his vision blurring at the edges.
And yet—
He had seen Ross.
Just before he died.
His second-in-command hadn't given up, not for a second. Not even when his body was broken, not even when he knew he wouldn't make it.
So who was he to quit now?
A low chuckle escaped him. Then another. He rolled his shoulders, stretching his neck from side to side, loosening up. His blades twitched in his grip, ready.
"Come at me, disphit!"
The myutant grunted—an unnatural sound, something between a hiss and a growl—before launching forward. Its massive frame ripped through the rain, moving faster than something that big had any right to.
Its speed mimicked the crack of thunder.
But Inaki moved first.
He sidestepped, his blades flashing through the storm as he swung at the incoming arm. The hooks bit deep, sinking into hardened flesh. His arms shook violently from the impact, the force reverberating through his bones.
But he was still standing.
He was the leader for a reason.
Twisting the hooked blades, Inaki yanked hard, dragging the creature's arm off balance. The moment its weight shifted, he swung again—this time, severing the limb entirely.
The myutant staggered, its dismembered arm hitting the ground with a wet thud. But it wouldn't matter. It would regenerate within a second, and he wouldn't get another clean strike.
A second.
That was all he had.
Inaki didn't waste it.
His blade arced through the rain, slicing into the creature's neck. The sharpened tips of his hooks burst through the other side, steel biting through flesh and bone. A strangled grunt escaped the myutant, its thick blood spilling onto the ground in heavy splashes.
Thatsamesecond—
Inaki tore the blade through.
The myutant's head soared, severed mid-snarl, its final expression frozen in an eternal grimace. He didn't stop. His blade continued downward, carving through its torso, splitting abdomen from thigh, slicing clean to the ground.
The edge of his hook blade slammed into the concrete, embedding itself deep.
Asecondpassed.
The myutant's body fell apart, its pieces collapsing in twisted synchronization—head, torso, limbs, all landing separately, scattered like discarded meat.
Anothersecond.
It twitched.
Anothersecond.
It regenerated.
The myutant loomed over him once more, body whole, towering, unbroken. The rain no longer touched Inaki's skin, blocked by the sheer mass of the thing.
Likestandingbeneatha goddamnmonsoon.
"Inaki... can you... hear me?" Sabrina's voice crackled through his comms, distorted by static.
He pressed a hand to his ear, pushing the earpiece in. "Loud and clear, ma'am."
"I couldn't reach you... the interference is too—" Her voice wavered. "Have you gotten to Raval?"
He exhaled, smiling faintly despite the blood in his mouth.
He had always admired her. Maybe even more than that. It was hard not to, with her sharp tongue and sharper mind, the way she carried herself like nothing in the world could shake her. She was a leader.
And he had always been happy to follow.
"I made it, alright," he muttered, coughing. "I'm sorry though, we didn't get to see again."
"Inaki... don't..." The static swallowed her words, but he could hear it in her voice—genuine, unguarded.
"Survive... reinforcements are on their way—"
He glanced up. The myutant was already moving, its massive hand rising, ready to crush him.
"They won't make it in time," he murmured.
"Survive... all of you... that's an order—"
"I'm sorry, ma'am." He took one last look at the monster towering over him. "And before I go... I love you. I always have."
The myutant's fist came down.
Pain. A scream tore from his throat as his body caved under the impact. His coat absorbed some of the blow, but not enough. Not nearly enough.
The next strike would end it.
Inaki grinned through the blood dripping from his lips, raising a shaky hand in mock imitation of the creature's own. His fingers curled—slowly, deliberately—until only one remained.
"Do it, dipshit."
The myutant obliged.
Static.
"Inaki!"
Sabrina's voice, raw, desperate.
"Inaki, respond!"
Nothing.
She tore the earpiece from her ear, setting it on the counter with a trembling hand. Pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, she swallowed back the lump in her throat.
This was the job. This was what they signed up for.
Crying over the dead wouldn't bring them back.
But still, she stayed there, gripping the edge of the counter, waiting for a voice that would never answer.
"Sir, we can't connect to any of the other exterminators. At least not anyone beyond the depths or near the south," one of the two other people in the room—Cassa muttered, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she tried and failed to get a signal. "The storm's too heavy."
Garter, seated beside her, didn't look away from his screen. "We have reason to believe Team Inaki has been destroyed." He said, a moment later, he turned, meeting Sabrina's gaze. "What do we do now?"
Silence.
Sabrina sat behind them, motionless.
She had managed to get the order out earlier, and she was sure a number of exterminators had heard it. But if Inaki wasn't enough—
Who would be?
Cassa turned toward Sabrina, repeating the question. "What do we do, sir?"
Sabrina didn't respond right away. She stood, stepping toward the window of the control room, her eyes trailing over the disjointed remains of New Haven. The city sat under a heavy, stale sky—humid and thick, yet untouched by the storm. Not yet.
Her options were limited. The rain had thrown everything into chaos. Most of their grade twos and above had been sent beyond the depths weeks ago, scattered across distant regions. Even if she could contact them, they wouldn't make it in time. It was impossible.
She sighed, hands pressing against the window sill. The thought crossed her mind—going herself. If she could just get there, maybe—
No.
It had been years since she'd picked up a weapon. Her body wasn't what it used to be. She would be nothing but dead weight.
Her grip tightened against the sill, fingers digging into the metal until it groaned under the pressure. If that thing was allowed to live, Raval wouldn't be the only casualty. The world was at risk.
But what could she do?
She had no options.
None.
Absolutely—
"Hello? Isthisthingon?"
A voice crackled through the static, muffled but unmistakable.
Sabrina's breath hitched. She turned sharply, sprinting toward the table and snatching up her earpiece, shoving it back into place. She knew that voice. One of her strongest exterminators. A man sent states away on a mission.
"Osiris," she muttered, barely believing it. "Have you completed your mission in Gallio?"
His reply was flat, emotionless. "Do you want me to kill the myutant in Raval?"
She froze. "Osiris, you're hundreds of miles away. You can't—"
Silence.
Then, slowly, something settled in her chest. Something she hadn't felt since before this nightmare started.
Hope.
"Do you want me to kill the myutant in Raval?" he repeated, just as monotone, just as certain.
Sabrina clenched the fabric of her shirt, realization sinking in. It was a question laced with certainty. A question that wasn't a question at all.
Hope clawed its way into her throat.
"Yes," she whispered, then steadied herself. "Yes. Take down the myutant. Save the people. Save our exterminators."
"Is that an order?"
"Yes."
A brief silence. Then—
"Order received."
The comm system crackled, then went dead.