[ Ironhaven Megacity, Undercity Sublevel 9 – Near the bolt-hole ]
Shouts echoed from ahead, near the bolt-hole level. Panic. Screams.
"Riftborn!"
Ebon broke into a run, Mira close behind.
They burst into the open market cavern of Sublevel 9. Ramshackle stalls, scavengers, the whole mess. This was the heart of the level, if you could call it that.
Chaos reigned.
Stalls overturned. Glow-lamps shattered. People fled in every direction, trampling crates and each other.
At the center, three meters above the ground, a serrated breach in reality pulsed — a Minor Rift, edges fizzing with unstable purple-black Fracture Energy. From it poured a swarm of Riftborn.
Shadow Wraiths.
Humanoid shadows, all writhing darkness. Claws like broken glass, eyes glowing murky green. Not much alone, but in a pack? Deadly. They moved without a sound, lunging from the dark, slicing before anyone could barely scream.
Four bodies already on the ground. Blood pooling black beneath the faint lights. More Wraiths kept coming. Fifteen. Twenty. Twenty-five. Too many.
Ebon's veins burned.
He didn't hesitate.
"Stay back!" he shouted at Mira.
Then he charged straight into the swarm.
The nearest Wraith turned, claws flashing.
Ebon met it with a spiked fist — obsidian plates and diamond protrusions locking into place mid-swing.
The punch connected.
The shadow form shattered like smoke around the impact, black ichor spraying before evaporating.
Five more lunged.
Ebon twisted, blocked with armored forearms — claws screeched across obsidian, leaving sparks but no purchase. He countered with a spinning elbow, spikes carving through two in one arc.
Mira grabbed a fallen metal pipe and swung at a straggler trying to flank him.
"Behind you!"
Ebon spun, caught the Wraith mid-leap, slammed it to the ground. Spiked knee to the core — it dissolved with a hiss.
The fight became a blur of motion.
Ebon flowed through the swarm — Muay Thai clinches turning into impales, boxing chains ending in shattering uppercuts, low kicks sweeping shadows off their feet before spikes finished them.
Pain burned in his arms from repeated manifestations, but he pushed through. The plates held longer now, stronger.
Then a larger Wraith — the alpha of the pack, twice the size of the others — dropped from the rift with a thud that shook the ground.
It roared, a sound like tearing metal, its form denser, shadows coiling like muscles. Claws extended into scythe-like blades, eyes burning brighter green. This one was no fodder — it had fed on the rift's energy, growing stronger than the swarm.
The alpha charged, faster than the rest, blades whistling through the air.
Ebon dodged the first swipe, but the second grazed his side — claws raking across obsidian plates. They cracked under the force, pain exploding as shadows seeped into the fractures like poison.
He staggered. Veins pulsed hot, trying to seal the cracks. The alpha didn't care. It pressed in, relentless.
It swung again — a wide arc that forced Ebon to block head-on. The impact sent him skidding back three meters, boots scraping concrete.
The crowd of survivors watched from hiding spots, whispers rippling: "The black-veined kid… he's struggling."
Mira yelled from the edge, pipe raised. "Thorne!"
The alpha lunged low, aiming to disembowel.
Ebon dropped to one knee, spikes extending from his elbows as he drove them upward into the creature's underbelly.
Shadows tore — ichor sprayed — but the alpha twisted mid-air, raking claws across his shoulder. More plates cracked, blood mixing with black mist.
Pain blurred his vision, but he didn't fall.
He rose, forcing manifestation across his knees and shins now — uneven, but enough.
The alpha circled, wary for the first time.
Ebon feinted a punch, then dropped low for a takedown — wrestling grab turning into a spiked clinch.
He drove the creature into the wall, diamond edges grinding into its core.
It thrashed, claws digging into his back, shadows wrapping around his throat like choking vines.
Veins burned hotter. The hunger stirred — cold, furious.
Ebon roared, slamming spiked elbows down again and again.
The alpha's form finally shattered, exploding in a burst of dark mist that dissipated into nothing.
The remaining Wraiths faltered, then retreated back through the rift as it flickered and sealed with a sharp crack — the breach spent.
Silence fell, broken only by distant sobs and the drip of blood.
Ebon stood in the center, chest heaving. Spikes retracted, slow and stubborn. Black veins pulsed across his bare skin, faintly glowing. Cracked plates flaked off. Wounds sealed, but slower than usual. He was running on fumes.
Survivors emerged from hiding places, staring.
A woman clutching a child whispered, "He… he killed them all."
Another voice: "The black-veined kid… he saved us."
Mira ran up, pipe still in hand, eyes wide.
"You okay?"
Ebon nodded, wiping blood from his arm. "Check the bolt-hole. Make sure the kids are safe."
She ran off.
Ebon knelt, harvesting the small Fracture Cores left behind — dull gray orbs no bigger than marbles, but valuable. Enough to buy more time.
The alpha's core was larger, pulsing faintly with trapped energy. He pocketed it carefully.
***
Hours later, back at the bolt-hole, the kids were safe — hidden in the deepest room during the chaos. Lena's fever had broken, thanks to the medicine.
The market survivors had spread the story fast.
Ebon was cleaning blood from his hands at a cracked basin when a knock echoed at the hidden entrance — three sharp raps, confident and deliberate.
Mira tensed from her spot on the crate. "No one knows this place."
Ebon dried his hands slowly, veins already pulsing under his skin.
He moved to the door and opened it only a crack.
Carver stood there, same clean jacket, with the same courteous smile. Two Apex enforcers flanked him this time — big, silent, energy humming faintly around them like heat haze.
"Mr. Thorne," Carver said smoothly. "Heard you had quite the evening. Impressive work against those Wraiths. Apex could use someone with your… talents."
Ebon's eyes narrowed. The bolt-hole was buried behind false walls, forgotten shafts. No one just stumbled in. Not unless they meant to.
"How did you get here?"
Carver's smile widened slightly. "We have our ways. Ironhaven is smaller than it seems when you have the right tools."
He extended the black card again.
"Offer stands. Better benefits this time. Protection for your little friends here, too." His gaze flicked past Ebon, into the room where the kids hid in the shadows.
Something in him snapped. Enough.
Ebon stepped out fully, slamming the door behind him.
"Stay away from them."
Spikes erupted from his fists — obsidian and diamond locking into place with a sharp crack.
Carver sighed, almost disappointed. "That's not how conversations work, Mr. Thorne."
Ebon lunged.
He threw a spiked hook aimed at Carver's jaw.
Carver didn't even flinch.
The air warped.
Ebon's punch stopped six inches from Carver's face, caught in an invisible grip — Spatial distortion crushing the space around his arm like a vice.
Pain shot up Ebon's limb as the spikes strained against the pressure.
Carver tilted his head. "Predictable."
He flicked a finger.
The distortion twisted.
Ebon was yanked forward off-balance, then hurled sideways into the tunnel wall. Concrete cracked under the impact. Breath exploded from his lungs.
One enforcer stepped in — a blur of motion — and drove a knee into Ebon's gut before he could recover.
Ebon doubled over, spikes scraping uselessly against the enforcer's reinforced jacket.
The second enforcer grabbed his arm, pinning it with casual strength.
Carver walked forward slowly.
"You're strong for an unregistered kid. But strength without control is just noise."
He crouched, meeting Ebon's eyes.
"Apex doesn't want to hurt you. We want to invest in you. But if you keep swinging at us…" He glanced toward the bolt-hole door. "Accidents happen. Even to hidden places."
Ebon glared, blood dripping from his lip, veins pulsing furiously but unable to break the spatial hold.
Carver stood, brushing dust from his jacket.
"Last chance. Take the card. Come willingly."
He placed it on the ground.
Ebon spat blood at his feet.
Carver's smile finally faded.
"Very well."
The distortion released.
Ebon dropped to one knee, gasping for breath. Everything hurt. He stayed down, just for a second.
The three Apex members turned and walked away without another word, footsteps echoing until they vanished into the tunnels.
Ebon stayed there a long moment, fists clenched, spikes retracting slowly.
Mira opened the door a crack, eyes wide.
"You okay?"
He pushed himself up, wiping his mouth.
"They know where we are."
Mira's face hardened.
Ebon looked back at the crushed card on the ground.
"I'm getting you out of here. All of you."
No one would touch them.
Not while he still breathed.