The transport hovered over the ruined city block, lights cutting through ash and fog. The Rift below pulsed like a heartbeat, veins of black energy crawling along broken buildings. Command had flagged this as BLACK PRIORITY—no details, no estimates, just coordinates.
Isaac's katana, Isen, hung at his side. He scanned the area, every nerve alive.
Sergio twirled his twin daggers, Marma and Karma, grinning. "Feels like a fun day already."
Roman tightened his grip on his straight sword Signara, eyes narrow. "Fun isn't usually on the menu when command says BLACK PRIORITY."
Rebekah adjusted Iko, her gauntlets humming with latent energy. "Let's just get the civilians out alive, and maybe none of us die today."
Isaac didn't respond. His gaze was on the crumbling building below, on the twisted shadows moving through the halls. Something in the Rift felt… wrong.
The moment they hit the ground, the stench hit: iron, rot, scorched ozone. Civilians—mostly gone. Bodies fused into walls by rift matter, faces frozen mid-scream.
Isaac's hands tightened around Isen. His eyes flicked between the team and the threat.
The first Sol came fast, jointed and spiny, armored with black plating, intelligence glowing in its eyes. Sergio met it first, daggers flashing, magma tearing through limbs, spinning the corpse like a weapon.
Roman followed, light bursting from Signara in arcs, temporarily blinding its sensors. Rebekah smashed it into the wall with Iko, her gauntlets collapsing reinforced bone as easily as cardboard.
Isaac moved last but precise, stepping through the chaos like he had rehearsed every motion in his mind. Step. Slash. Step. Slice. No hesitation.
Then came the scream—high, shrill, unmistakably human.
A small shape darted across the twelfth floor.
The little girl had wandered closer to the Rift than anyone realized, clutching a stuffed animal soaked in someone else's blood. Her wide eyes locked on Isaac.
"Stay behind me," he ordered, voice low but calm.
The Sol guarding her shifted. Thicker. Smarter. Armor layered like shifting stone. It lunged.
Isaac didn't hesitate. He threw himself between them. The claw caught him in the shoulder, slicing through muscle. Pain shot white-hot. He gritted his teeth and drove Isen into the creature's skull, twisting, driving it in until the armor cracked.
Sergio flanked it, daggers ripping through its limbs, magma burning through sinew. Roman followed, sword arcs of blinding light searing its vision. Rebekah's gauntlets crushed what remained, bone snapping under calculated pressure.
The Sol collapsed, twitching, then still.
Isaac dropped to one knee, breathing hard, shoulder screaming. The little girl crawled forward cautiously, leaning against him. Her small hand pressed against his arm.
"You're safe," he whispered. "I've got you."
Her dark eyes never left his. "You got hurt because of me," she murmured.
He smiled faintly, blood dripping from his fingers. "What's your name."
"Kira" she said about to cry
The team moved as one, clearing the rest of the building, neutralizing Sols with surgical precision. No orders spoken aloud—each member anticipating the other's actions, their weapons an extension of trust as much as skill.
Extraction took longer than planned. Every hallway had to be swept, every shadow checked. Yet Kira never let go of Isaac's hand, her tiny presence grounding him in a way nothing else could.
By the time they reached the transport, black ichor smeared on walls, rubble everywhere, the team was exhausted. Yet no one faltered. Not Isaac. Not Sergio. Not Roman. Not Rebekah.
Kira leaned against Isaac as they lifted off. "I was scared," she said softly.
"I know," Isaac said, one arm around her. "But you're okay now. You're safe."
Sergio glanced at him, daggers dripping. "You're… calm."
Isaac didn't answer. He was still focused, still watching the city below, but for the first time, a small part of him was allowed to breathe.
Roman sheathed Signara, nodding slightly. "Efficiency. Without hesitation. That's why you're dangerous, Demonio."
Rebekah adjusted her gauntlets, eyes softer than usual. "And why we need to keep him close."
Isaac didn't respond. He looked at Kira, asleep against him, and allowed himself the faintest smile. A weight had been lifted, but another had settled—responsibility.
The Rift below pulsed once more, indifferent. But for now, its threat was held at bay.
And for once, Isaac Demonio felt like he had done something right.