Jax took the mont the way he takes monts: as a dare. He charged straight into the aftershock, boots slipping, gravity roaring around him. The clap had thrown the air into chaos — pressure waves folding in on themselves, dust leaping off the ground. Jax didn’t slow. He rode the chaos like it was an ally.
Grav-Edge scread. The hum hit a new pitch, more animal than weapon. The blade ca down through the vibrating haze and bit into the Butcher’s chest with a sound like a cathedral beam snapping in a storm.
The air collapsed. The entire dock trembled under the hit. Sparks burst in sheets; the sll of ozone and oil filled my throat. For a split heartbeat, the Butcher actually staggered.
Light leaked through the cracked brass plates — molten veins spider-webbing outward. The heat made my armor crawl.
He turned toward Jax, deliberate as judgnt. The absence of eyes sohow worse than any glare.
Not anger. Acknowledgnt.
Then he erased gravity.
Jax went up, sideways, down — spinning in a spray of red sparks as his armor scraped the concrete. The cleaver tore a long scar into the ground before embedding deep enough to hum on its own.
"Jax!" Hana shouted.
He coughed, pushed to a knee, spat sothing red that shouldn’t have been that color. "Still... good," he rasped, and smiled — because that’s the kind of bastard he is.
Hana’s shawl ignited. The lotus weave blazed cobalt; petals unfolded into rigid plates that crawled across her arms. Threads lashed out like tendrils of light, wrapping Jax’s chest, sealing open wounds before the next pulse could finish the job.
Heartlink fired — pain ca flooding down the tether into . My lungs stuttered once. I let it. That’s what partners do: split the damage so nobody breaks alone.
"Ethan!" she yelled. "We finish this now. You’re on fus — I can feel it."
She was right. She’s always right. She just picks the worst tis to prove it.
I looked up — first anchor glimring faintly from the maintenance shed roof, second still unspent.The river boiled below us, cranes creaking, chains rattling like teeth.The city itself felt like it was holding its breath.
"Fine," I muttered to no one and everyone. "Let’s do sothing stupid."
I reached out through the static of my mind and set it.
[Lightning Transit — Anchor Set (2/2) Established]
[Global Anchors: Exhausted for today]
"Jax, give pull on his footing. Hana, call it the mont he vents. I’ll go through."
"Through what?" Jax grunted, staggering upright.
"Through him."
He barked a laugh that hurt. "Finally, sothing simple."
The Butcher reared up to his full height, heat spilling from the cracks in his chest like furnace breath.Rain hissed off him in vapor clouds. Every movent was chanical blasphemy — a factory pretending to be alive.
He took one dragging step, and the entire dock bent under it.
The next blow wasn’t aid at anyone. It was a declaration.He slamd both gauntlets into the ground. Pressure hit like a truck made of weather. Concrete shattered. Water leapt up in curtains. I threw my arm over my face and felt the heat sear across Darkharness plates.
Hana scread words I didn’t hear and threw the shawl’s barrier forward. Lotus petals exploded outward — blue shields locking in sequence. They held. Barely.
Jax pushed through the barrier the second it started to crack. He swung wide, dragging gravity into a hook that bent the Butcher’s left arm off course. Sparks cascaded down like bronze rain.
I moved.
[Lightning Transit — Hop 7 / 7]
[Range: 18 m • Pulse: 2 m stun • Chain Window: 5 s]
The world blinked white, then black, then I was behind him.
Pulse hit his knees — a ripple of distortion like the river deciding it hated him too. Fangpiercer and Fogbite crossed in my hands. I cut once — deep — just above the joint seam.
[Fangpiercer Critical]
[Armor Penetration: 30%]
[Fogbite — Pressure Stagger Chill Stack (3/3)]
Steam and blood that wasn’t blood vented from the wound. The Butcher bellowed — not a roar, just sound trying to rember how to exist.
I blinked out before his backhand could introduce to the wall. The shockwave still threw across ten ters of broken dock, skidding on wet debris.
He vented again — pressure ripping through the damaged chest plates like an open kiln. I felt the temperature spike through my armor. The city lights flickered.
"Now!" Hana shouted, her voice like a flare in a storm. "Center seam, lower left!"
"Go!" Jax roared. His cleaver dropped in from above. The gravitational pulse inverted, dragging the Butcher’s balance off its axis. The massive body dipped — just a few inches, but enough.
I triggered the anchor.
[Lightning Transit — Recall to Anchor (1)]
[Global Pulse: 2 m stun (emitted on arrival)]
The world folded. Suddenly I was on the crane arm high above, the wind slicing past.The pulse rolled down over him like a thunderclap. The Butcher froze, mid-motion. The light in his armor flickered once — hesitation from sothing too big to hesitate.
Perfect.
I jumped.
Air whipped into my teeth. The Darkharness reacted before I hit the command — morphic plates rippling over my limbs, locking joints, sharpening edges. The armor beca a weapon wrapped around montum.
I ca down like a blade.
Fangpiercer drove through the cracked chest plate, eting that molten heart.Fogbite layered chill and pressure until the air itself howled.The impact shook the crane, sent a ring of distorted heat washing out in every direction.
[Fangpiercer Critical]
[Armor Penetration: 30%]
[Fogbite — Max Stack Reapplied]
[Darkharness — Morphic Strike Assist: 20% Force Vector]
The resistance wasn’t tal — it was intent. It scread through the handle into my bones, like the weapon was arguing with reality about what could die today.
Then it gave.
The blade sank to the hilt. Light poured out like a confession.
Inside, I saw it: the "heart." Not flesh — a compacted core of the canal itself. Stones, rusted bolts, coins, bone shards — all fused together in a single pulsing mass, beating like an engine running on spite.
"Jax!" I shouted. "Now!"
He didn’t hesitate.He threw every ounce of strength left into one upward swing. Grav-Edge wailed like a dying planet, dragging the general’s weight into his own collapse.
The cleaver t Fangpiercer’s hilt and kept going, driving both weapons — and — deeper.
For a second everything went silent.Then the light inside the Butcher reversed.
[Critical Confird — Dual-Vector Strike]
[Structural Failure Cascading — Core Integrity 12%... 4%... 0%]
[Boss Defeated — General of the East Canal: The Butcher of Brass (A → S- Threat)]
The pressure wave hit late — a delayed heartbeat of raw force.It tore outward, scattering rain into steam, pushing water back into the canal. I hit the ground on my knees, ears ringing. Darkharness peeled off my chest in smoking ribbons, reshaping itself into a jacket again as if embarrassed.
The Butcher didn’t explode. He imploded — collapsing inward on the void he’d been pretending was a soul. The glow died. The plates folded like exhausted wings. The ground stopped shaking.
Silence — heavy, wet, alive.
[EXP 1500 → 3000 (Warden’s Echo ×2)]
[Level 22 Progress: 1400 → 2200 / 2200]
[Level Up → Level 23]
Stat Points 5
[Level 23 Progress: 800 / 2300]
[Loot Acquired: Brass Aortum (A Core) • Canal Sigil (A) • Bent Rivet Crown (A) • Chainheart Plate (A) • Core Fragnt — Material (Unknown Rank)]
I staggered back. The rain felt real again. The air stopped vibrating.
Jax pushed himself up, swaying. His armor smoked where gravity had scorched it. Hana’s shawl dimd, the petals folding back into silk.
I laughed — short, broken, stupid.Then bent over, hands on knees, pretending to stretch.
"Nice door," Jax said hoarsely, staring at the hole where the general used to be.
"Team effort," I said between gasps. "Next ti we try talking first."
Hana looked at both of us — mud streaked, glowing eyes fading — and let out the smallest laugh I’ve ever heard from her. "You’d talk anyway. The rest of us would still have to save you."
"Accuracy over kindness," I muttered. "Fine. Sobody write that on my grave."
"Ethan," Hana said, not looking at the corpse, looking past it. "Listen."
At first I thought it was more water. It wasn’t. It was music.
Not song. Not singing. The idea of it—like you rember a lullaby without lyrics. It ca from the cathedral ruins across the canal—soft, sweet, an. The hair on my arms forgot its training and stood.
"Grief-Singer," Jax said quietly.
"Escort’s early," I said.
A voice—too many voices braided together—rolled out of the dark behind the cathedral’s broken rose window. It didn’t use words. It didn’t need to. It reached into the part of you that cries at old photographs and said, kneel.
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