The city had become a war zone.
Not the slow decay of the past two weeks—this was *active combat*. Explosions echoed from the eastern districts. Machine gun fire rattled endlessly. Buildings collapsed in real-time as giants trampled through them. The sky was filled with helicopters and flying hybrids in deadly aerial combat.
And the portals kept opening.
More creatures pouring through. More skeletal Avalon survivors stumbling into hell. More chaos layering on top of chaos until Linkon was unrecognizable as anything that had once been a city.
Zayne watched from three blocks away as the hundred skeletal people they'd seen yesterday were scattered across the plaza now. Some were dead—torn apart by creatures or trampled in the chaos. Some were still alive, fighting hybrids with bare hands and rocks and desperate fury. Some were just... wandering. Lost. Broken beyond the point of caring.
A giant lumbered through another district, scooping everything in sight into its massive mouth. Cars. Debris. Bodies. Didn't matter. It ate indiscriminately, crushing buildings under its feet while smaller creatures scattered.
Above, a military transport helicopter tried to evacuate survivors from a rooftop. A dozen flying hybrids converged on it mid-lift. The pilot tried to evade—banked hard, gained altitude—but the hybrids were faster. They swarmed the aircraft, claws tearing through metal, wings blocking the rotors.
The helicopter spun out of control and crashed into an office building. Fireball. Screaming. Gone.
Zayne's jaw clenched.
The military kept coming, but mostly they couldn't make it. The numbers were too overwhelming. For every creature killed, three more came through portals. For every survivor evacuated, five more died waiting.
Even Nana—Specimen 21, enhanced beyond human limits, designed to be the perfect weapon—couldn't keep fighting like this.
She was already badly injured.
Her left arm was bleeding where a hybrid's claws had caught her during the Hunter HQ ammunition raid twenty minutes ago. Deep gashes, muscle visible, too much blood. Her right thigh was torn open from when a demon had lunged at her and she'd fallen through debris—rebar had caught her, ripped through reinforced skin that wasn't supposed to tear.
But it did. Because even enhanced healing had limits. Even weapons could break.
Nana kept fighting anyway.
Dual guns firing. Combat knife slashing. Kicking creatures with her good leg. Her aether core glowed dangerously bright through her blood-soaked shirt—depleting fast, burning through energy to keep her moving despite the injuries.
Zayne fought beside her with ice blade manifested, cutting through vampires that descended from the broken buildings. One. Two. Three. Ash scattering in the smoke-filled air.
He glanced at Nana between kills and his heart stopped.
She was stumbling.
Her legs gave out mid-step and she went down hard, catching herself on one hand, breathing in ragged gasps. Blood pooled beneath her. Too much blood. Her aether core flickered—blue glow stuttering like a dying lightbulb.
System failure imminent.
Zayne killed the last vampire with a savage ice strike and ran to her.
"Nana—"
"I'm fine," she gasped, trying to stand. Failed. Tried again.
She wasn't fine. She was dying. Enhanced metabolism or not, specimen modifications or not—she was *bleeding out*.
Zayne made a decision in half a second.
He scooped her into his arms—one hand under her knees, the other supporting her back—and *ran*. Ice formed behind them as barriers, blocking the creatures that tried to follow. Ice spears launched automatically, skewering anything that got too close.
He didn't know where he was going. Just away. Somewhere safe. Somewhere hidden.
The broken hotel appeared ahead—half-collapsed, windows shattered, but the ground floor looked intact. Zayne kicked through the destroyed lobby doors and found a storage room in the back. Small. Dark. Defensible.
He laid Nana on the floor carefully, ignoring her weak protests.
"Stay still," he ordered, already pulling his medical bag from his backpack.
Outside, hybrid shrieks echoed. Demons roared, fighting each other over territory. A giant's footsteps shook the building—*boom, boom, boom*—close enough to make dust fall from the ceiling but not close enough to crush them.
Yet.
Zayne worked with shaking hands.
Antiseptic on the wounds. Nana hissed in pain but didn't cry out—couldn't risk the noise. He cleaned the hybrid claw marks first, assessing the damage. Deep. Very deep. Muscle torn, possibly tendon damage. But no arterial bleeding. She'd survive if he could stop the hemorrhaging.
He stitched quickly. Precisely. Surgical training and battlefield triage combined into efficient, life-saving movements. Black thread through torn skin. Pull tight. Knot. Cut. Next stitch. Again. Again.
Nana bit down on her own hand to muffle the pain, tears streaming silently down her face.
"Almost done," Zayne murmured. "You're doing so well. Almost done."
The thigh wound was worse. Deeper. The rebar had punched through completely—entry and exit wound, both bleeding heavily. He packed gauze into both sides, applying pressure while listening to the creatures prowl outside.
A hybrid shrieked right outside the hotel. Close. Too close.
Zayne froze, one hand pressed to Nana's thigh, the other reaching for his ice evol. Ready to fight. Ready to kill. Ready to protect her with everything he had.
The hybrid's shadow passed the broken window. Sniffing. Searching.
Nana's breathing was too loud. Too ragged. The scent of her blood was everywhere.
Zayne formed an ice barrier over the storage room door—silent, invisible from outside, but solid enough to hold. Then he pressed his free hand over Nana's mouth gently, muffling the sound.
Please don't find us. Please keep moving. Please—
The hybrid shrieked again, frustrated. Then the sound of wings flapping. It launched itself back into the sky, searching elsewhere.
Zayne didn't move for a full minute. Just listened. Waited. Made sure.
When he was certain the immediate threat was gone, he returned to treating Nana's wounds.
More stitches on the thigh. Bandages wrapped tight. Pressure applied to slow the bleeding. His hands were covered in her blood—enhanced blood that looked the same as human blood but represented so much more. Modifications. Enhancements. A childhood stolen to create a weapon.
A weapon that was bleeding out in his arms.
When the worst of the emergency treatment was done, Zayne pulled Nana close. Wrapped his arms around her carefully, avoiding the injuries, just *holding* her while the city tore itself apart outside.
She was shaking. From blood loss, from pain, from exhaustion, from *everything*.
"I've got you," he whispered against her hair. "You're safe. I've got you."
Nana's fingers clutched weakly at his coat. "Can't... can't keep fighting like this..."
"I know."
"Too many... too many creatures..."
"I know."
"We're going to die here, aren't we?" Her voice cracked. "Just like Avalon. Just like the hospital. We're going to die and it won't matter because there's always *more*—"
"No," Zayne said firmly, pulling back to look at her face. "No. We survived Avalon. Survived the facility. Survived twelve days of this hell. We're not dying in a hotel storage room."
"Zayne—"
"We're not." He cupped her face, thumbs brushing away tears and blood. "I won't let you. Do you understand? I will fight every creature in this city before I let anything take you from me."
Nana stared at him with those devastated green eyes. "What if there are too many? What if we can't—"
"Then we run. We hide. We *survive*." He pressed his forehead to hers. "Whatever it takes. However long it takes. We don't give up."
Outside, a demon roared. A building collapsed somewhere close. Gunfire rattled in staccato bursts.
The giant's footsteps continued—boom, boom, boom—circling the district, hunting for anything that moved.
Hybrids flew overhead, shadows blocking the dim light filtering through broken windows.
And in the storage room of a ruined hotel, two people held each other in the darkness.
Zayne kept one hand on Nana's wounds, monitoring the bleeding. The other stayed wrapped around her shoulders, keeping her warm, keeping her present, keeping her from slipping into shock.
Her aether core was barely glowing now—reserves almost completely depleted. He'd need to do an energy transfer soon or her system would start shutting down.
But not yet. Not while creatures prowled so close. Not while the risk of discovery was so high.
So he just held her and listened to her ragged breathing slowly even out. Watched her eyes close in exhausted half-consciousness. Felt her heartbeat against his chest—too fast, too weak, but *there*.
Still alive.
Still fighting.
Still his.
"Sleep," he murmured. "I'll keep watch. You're safe."
Nana made a small sound of protest but her body was already giving in to exhaustion. Enhanced healing needed rest to function properly. Her system knew that even if her mind didn't want to surrender.
Her breathing deepened. Her grip on his coat loosened.
She slept.
And Zayne held her in the darkness while the war zone raged outside.
Held her while hybrids hunted. While demons fought. While giants destroyed. While helicopters crashed and survivors died and the city burned.
Held her because it was the only thing he could do.
Because she was injured and bleeding and exhausted beyond limits.
Because she was his to protect.
Because he loved her more than anything in this broken world.
So he held her.
And he prayed.
And he waited for the chaos to pass.
Just a little longer. Please. Just give us a little more time.
Hiding in a hotel storage room.
Surrounded by predators.
Two people still alive.
Still holding on.
No matter how long it takes.
.
.
.
.
.
To be continued.