[T-minus 61 Days Until Dimensional Event Ritual Completion]

The night cracked open with gunfire.

Max didn't need to see them to know – the way the air shifted, the way Ferron turned and whispered "Move" – it was enough.

The first shot hit the barn roof.

The second punched through the wall just inches from Chloe's head, carving a hot, smoking line through timber. She yelped, ducked low, dragging Alyssa behind an overturned trough. Dan was already moving, stepping between them, arms outstretched – his golden aura flickering to life like a pulse of calm through chaos.

Max tried to rise.

His knee collapsed beneath him. Pain lanced through his side – fire blooming in the gaps where healing had barely begun. Between Mammon's wrath and a Chinese rifle team tearing through his spine, his body was still a patchwork of pain.

"Stay down," Ferron hissed, crouching beside him. "These aren't locals. They're here to finish it."

Outside, the world moved with military precision. Boots crunched in tight formation. A cold wind rolled through the skeletal wheat, carrying voices low and mechanical.

Then came the callout. Unamplified. Just loud enough to carry.

"Max Jaeger. You've got one chance. Step out. Hands visible. Or we drop the whole fucking barn."

Six figures fanned out across the treeline.

Not mercs. Not military. They wore a mix of tactical gear and off-grid tech – white visors, matte black armour, modified American frames. No insignia. No markings.

But Ferron cursed as soon as he saw them.

"Chamber Theta."

CIA contractors. Deep-black. Unofficial. Ghosts with government funding.

They didn't hunt demons.

They hunted people who'd survived them.

Victor was already moving.

The first bullet hadn't even stopped echoing before he rolled from cover, low and fast, a jagged hunk of metal in one hand like a field knife. No armour. No helmet. Just muscle, reflex, and a beast behind his eyes.

He crouched by the barn's edge, peeking through the gaps in the wall, scanning the treeline like he'd been expecting this.

"Six targets. Tight spacing. Staggered sweep," he muttered.

Then, to Max – a quick glance. "You up?"

Max didn't answer. His chest was still heaving, limbs refusing to cooperate.

Dan stepped forward, shielding the others, gold light flickering against the edges of incoming fire.

Ferron rose behind them, chain-sickle drawn, his stance loose and feral but even he didn't look certain this time.

Victor just set his jaw, never looked back.

"We're not making it through this clean."

Max gritted his teeth, forced fire into his limbs. If he could just stand—

A sound split the air.

Not a gunshot. Not thunder.

A sonic boom.

Then, a streak of silver fell from the sky.

The first impact hit like a meteor.

A pulse of compressed air blasted outward, flattening the wheat around the barn and sending two Theta operatives flying. A second shape landed behind them, heavier, slower – its landing cracked the earth.

The night lit up in weaponized daylight.

From the smoke and impact crater stepped two figures.

The first: tall, composed, armour almost seamless — white with chrome detailing, moving with surgical precision. Not a wasted breath. Not a flicker of hesitation.

Alpha.

She stepped forward from the crater's edge like she'd been dropped by a god – untouched, unbothered, posture perfect. Steam rolled off her armour in soft coils. One arm came up, locking at the elbow with unnatural stillness. Her forearm unfolded to reveal a sleek receiver.

A thin beam of blue light lanced from her palm into the air – a pinpoint laser tag, barely visible.

Above them, something answered.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then the sky cracked.

A tungsten rod fell from orbit, moving faster than sound. It didn't explode – it simply erased the target. One of the Theta operatives vanished mid-sprint, vaporized in a cone of kinetic force that flattened three rows of wheat, uprooted a tree, and carved a two-meter trench through the edge of the barn wall.

The rest of Theta scattered – shouting. One was thrown off his feet by the shockwave.

Alpha lowered her arm, eyes already tracking the next target.

"Dr. Grimm always did love his expensive toys."

She stepped forward again, as if bored.

Behind her, the air still shimmered with aftershock.

The second figure came roaring out of the dust, laughing as he ran.

Omega.

He dropped from the sky like he'd been kicked by gravity itself – a blur of jagged limbs and twitching servos, his mismatched armour hissing as it vented heat. Cables trailed from his back like torn nerves. His helmet was gone, exposing a grinning face and eyes that didn't blink.

He didn't draw a weapon.

He ripped a broken crate from the debris and hurled it with one arm. The splintered metal hit one of the Contractors mid-turn – not a direct kill, but enough to send him sprawling, shoulder and ribs crumpling on impact.

The man screamed. Omega screamed back.

"YOU HEAR THAT? THAT'S THE SOUND OF YOUR CHANCE LEAVING."

Then he was moving – faster than he should, a blur of reinforced limbs.

Gallows moved without a sound.

No orders. No warning. Just a blur of motion.

He dropped low, slammed both palms into the earth – and the ground buckled outward in a concussive ripple. The shockwave hit like a low-frequency quake, cracking the barn's foundation, sending hay and splinters into the air.

Omega staggered, boots skidding, armour flexing against the impact.

Before he could recover, Gallows was on him.

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He didn't punch. He didn't slash. He folded into Omega's chest like a coiled spring – a blur of limbs and velocity. Elbows struck ribs. A clawed knee spiked into Omega's thigh, and a sharpened forearm drove hard into his throat, forcing him back a step with a snarl.

Omega caught him mid-blow, grinning even as blood flew from his mouth.

"You hit like a feral blender."

But Gallows didn't stop – he spun low, swept Omega's legs, and sent him crashing through a pile of shattered crates.

Dust erupted.

Omega rose fast, laughing – dented, bleeding, delighted.

"Oh, I like you."

Gallows didn't respond. He never did.

His body began to twitch – joints cracking outward, shoulders dislocating cleanly as his frame shimmered, skin slipping like a veil. Not transformation – moulting.

He peeled apart.

Flesh split. Bone shifted. He collapsed inward and then unfolded again – thinner, longer, boneless in motion. A blur of tendon and backward joints, sinew snapping tight across a frame built for speed and evasion.

His face had no mouth now. Just slits for eyes, glowing faintly yellow. His spine jutted like blades.

He lunged.

Omega swung – fast and reckless.

He clipped him.

Just barely but enough. The impact carved a long, black gouge along Gallows' shoulder. A sliver of flesh flared open, and for the first time, Gallows hissed – a silent gasp of breath that sounded like knives through cloth.

He twisted mid-air, kicked off a beam, and skittered sideways, claws flashing.

Then he was gone – vanished into the treeline, smoke swirling in his wake.

Omega turned, growling.

"Bleeding. Good."

Then, louder, as if marking territory:

"YOU'LL HEAL WRONG, COWARD. I'LL MAKE SURE OF IT."

The barn groaned again – too much pressure, too much chaos. Something collapsed behind Max, but no one flinched anymore.

Then a voice cut through the comms – measured, mechanical, and layered with synthetic distortion. It came from a speaker clipped to one of the remaining Theta agents, still crouched in the tall grass beyond the kill zone.

"Disengage."

Max looked up, squinting through the haze.

"Repeat: Disengage. Full retreat protocol. Chamber Theta – exfil and scatter."

It wasn't panic. There was no tremor in the voice. Just calculation. The tone of a man taking inventory of battlefield variables – and finding no profitable outcome.

"Jaeger is compromised. Pod is in motion. Grimm assets have arrived. Mission yield minimal."

The last remaining operative hesitated, rifle raised toward Alpha.

Alpha didn't move.

Omega cracked his knuckles.

"Last warning," the voice said.

Then the agent dropped a smoke capsule, and the field vanished into grey.

When the fog cleared, they were gone. No footprints. No heat signatures. No gunfire. Just silence and the weight of what almost happened.

Victor let out a long breath.

"They'll be back."

Max blinked through the haze, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

The two new arrivals didn't speak to each other. Didn't look at the survivors. They just stood there, steam rising from their armour, lit from behind by the burning edge of what had once been a clean, dry field.

A final stray shot cracked in the distance.

Alpha raised one hand, tracked the fleeing Chamber Theta agent, and fired once. A little thank you gift.

She turned.

Max looked up from the dirt, blood in his teeth, and locked eyes with the operative who had just saved them.

Her voice was low, precise, and utterly without warmth.

"Mission status: Primary subject stabilized. Secondary assets intact. Awaiting further instruction."

She paused.

"Max Jaeger. You've been difficult to find."

…………………

The smoke was starting to clear, but no one moved.

Victor kept low, eyes locked on the tree line where Chamber Theta had vanished. His grip didn't ease. Ferron's chain-sickle stayed in hand, blade trembling slightly from the residual tension in his fingers. Chloe hovered over Alyssa, lips parted like she wanted to say something but couldn't. Dan stood still, his golden aura dimming but not disappearing – just in case.

And Max, still on one knee, tried to force himself up. His leg shook. He ignored it.

Two shapes stood at the edge of the crater, outlined by the burning ruin of what used to be a hay rack and the still-glowing trench carved by Alpha's orbital strike. One gleamed like a surgeon's scalpel. The other breathed like a riot.

Alpha and Omega.

They didn't approach like friends.

Alpha was first to move, gliding across the blasted earth with perfect, programmed control. Her white-and-chrome armour looked untouched, though the ground hissed beneath each step. No soot clung to her. No breath fogged her visor.

Omega trailed behind, head tilted back like he was still listening for Gallows' retreat.

Victor raised a hand, motioned silently to the others – hold.

Alpha stepped through the barn's shattered threshold, steam rising faintly from her armour. Her gaze swept the room without pause – no greeting, no nod – just evaluation.

"Grimm sent us," she said. "He needs you alive. And we need to get the girl."

Her voice was neutral, but it landed like a verdict.

Max straightened slowly, one hand braced on the scorched support beam. His legs still ached. His side still burned. But the sight of her brought something else to the surface – something older. Familiar.

"We've seen you before," he said. "In the Burrow. Cloaked. Watching."

Beside him, Victor stiffened.

"I thought I imagined that," he muttered. "You knocked me on my ass."

Omega stepped inside just behind her – posture loose, grin unearned.

"Technically Kane cloaked us. We just enjoyed the show."

Ferron didn't flinch. He stepped forward between Max and the newcomers, chain-blade still half-drawn, body taut.

"You were Grimm's ghosts before the world started going to hell. And you haven't changed."

"Still are," Alpha replied. "We don't need introductions."

Max narrowed his eyes.

"Then why show up now?"

Alpha didn't blink.

"Because you're alive. Which wasn't expected. And the girl – Elizabeth – is in enemy hands."

Omega leaned against a support beam, absently tracing a claw through a scorched groove in the wood.

"Grimm wants her back. And you? He wants kept breathing. Says you're sloppy, but useful."

A sharp pause.

"So," Alpha continued, voice as calm as ever, "we're here to stabilize your mess. And if necessary, keep you from dying before you do your job."

Victor exhaled hard through his nose.

"Right. Guardians with kill switches."

Alyssa was already on edge, staring at Omega like she expected him to jump. Chloe held her by the wrist, grounding her.

"You're not Contractors," Max said. "You're not awakened. So how are you keeping up with demons?"

Alpha turned her head – just a fraction.

"We weren't designed to survive demons. We were designed to outlast them."

Omega grinned wider.

"And now that we're here, Max... it's time you did your job."

Max didn't answer. But the fire behind his eyes flared – and that was enough.

…………………

The barn had gone still again but it wasn't peace.

It was containment.

Max didn't sit. He stood with weight on one leg, jaw tight, fire coiled behind his eyes. Alpha remained near the threshold, posture razor-straight, unmoving. Omega paced in slow loops, boots crunching over broken glass and scorched hay, like he couldn't decide whether to grin or explode.

Ferron broke the silence first.

"You came all this way just to lecture us?"

Alpha didn't turn.

"We came because Grimm needs results. And you're bleeding time."

"And you two are the solution?" Victor asked. "We've buried better."

Omega laughed.

"Maybe. But none of them walked away from an orbital strike."

He stopped beside Max and gestured lazily at the group.

"You've got power scattered all over this little campfire. But no one's burning properly. You're half-awakened. Under-trained. Still thinking like civilians."

Victor grunted. Chloe flinched. Alyssa's fists clenched. Dan didn't react – but his aura pulsed slightly brighter.

Max's voice came low and steady.

"Get to the point."

Alpha finally turned to face him.

"Grimm says you're inefficient. You awaken others by instinct, not design. That won't be enough moving forward."

She raised her arm – and for the first time, peeled back a magnetic plate on her gauntlet. Beneath it, ridged nodes pulsed softly, embedded into the muscle-threaded plating.

"We're not Contractors. No demons. No pacts. We were built for this — and we were built to grow. But you have to ignite it."

Max studied the port, then glanced at Omega – who was already sliding back his chest plate, revealing a receptor ring sunk into scarred, augmented flesh.

"You want me to awaken you," Max said.

"Damn right we do," Omega replied, grinning. "Light the match, Jaeger. Then stand back."

Max didn't move.

"If I do this, every demon in range will feel it. You'll be lighthouses in a hurricane."

Alpha didn't blink.

"Let them come."

Silence hung for a moment. Then Max nodded – once.

"Not tonight. But soon."

Alpha stepped back without argument, sealing her gauntlet with a hiss.

Omega cracked his neck like a boxer before a fight.

"Fine. We'll wait."

He turned toward the rest of the group – Chloe, Alyssa, Dan, Victor – eyes tracking them like targets.

"But in the meantime…"

He pointed – first at Alyssa. Then Chloe. Then Dan.

"You suck."

…………………

The fire crackled low, fed by the remains of shattered crates and dry splinters pried from the barn walls. The flames barely touched the cold. Too much smoke in the air. Too much blood in the dirt.

They sat in a loose ring – not out of camaraderie, but necessity. Silent. Tired. Watching each other.

Max leaned against the wall nearest the fire, one arm wrapped across his ribs, eyes half-lidded but still tracking movement. Victor sat with his back to a beam, weapon within reach, shoulders twitching every time Omega shifted.

Dan sat cross-legged near Chloe and Alyssa. He was the only one breathing evenly – his calm like a gravity well in the centre of frayed nerves.

Omega paced.

He hadn't sat once.

He circled the barn slowly, dragging one clawed hand along the walls, tracing grooves into the blackened wood. His mouth moved constantly – muttering. Maybe words. Maybe not.

Chloe whispered to Alyssa, just loud enough for the others to hear.

"Does he ever sleep?"

Ferron answered from his corner without looking up.

"No. Grimm built him to stay awake. Alpha blinks once every hour. Omega hasn't closed his eyes in six years."

Alyssa frowned. Her voice was low.

"That's not human."

"They're not."

Alpha stood at the far end of the barn, facing the darkened treeline beyond the broken door. She hadn't moved in nearly twenty minutes. Not even to breathe.

Max closed his eyes for a moment – just a moment – and the image that surfaced was Liz's pod, spiralling away from the wreckage. Her eyes closed. Her body suspended. That unreadable quiet on her face.

He opened his eyes again.

Victor threw another piece of wood onto the fire. It hissed but didn't catch fully.

Omega stopped pacing just behind Dan. Not close. Not far. He tilted his head and stared down at him, then at Chloe, then Alyssa.

No words. Just a long, unreadable look.

Dan didn't flinch. But the golden glow beneath his skin pulsed, as if warning him.

Then Omega moved on.

Alpha finally spoke. Her voice was soft – not cold, just calibrated.

"Rest. The next two days will be worse."

She didn't elaborate.

She didn't need to.

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