"FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!"

"They just keep coming!"

The armored AV rattled like an industrial dryer that had swallowed a cinder block, the whole fuselage quaking under a barrage of impacts. Vibrations rolled through the cabin panels, shaking every rivet in its frame. Ajax clenched the nylon straps of his four-point harness until his knuckles blanched, the fresh-faced mercenary's wide eyes flicking from one warning light to the next, desperate to lock onto anything that might keep him from puking.

Again.

Beside him the team's heavy howled with laughter, the sound garbled by the speaker built into his bulky helmet yet unmistakably euphoric. His visor was smoked black; his body lay entombed beneath soot-streaked composite plates so thick he resembled a burnt marshmallow jammed into a titanium shell more than a living man.

Madness. Absolute madness.

Strobe lights popped like camera flashes, blinking in a chaotic rhythm while Ajax's neuralink hurled a storm of alerts across his HUD. Subsystems he had barely skimmed the manuals for erupted in cascading failure notices, battery-acid-flavored pop-ups clawing neon sigils into the backs of his artificial corneas. Ajax screamed louder, trying to smother the metallic shriek, yet the cry disappeared in the engine's roar.

"THEY'RE GOING FOR THE ENGINES! WE HAVE TO DROP OR WE'LL LOSE THE AV!"

This was supposed to be a milk-run: in, grab the package, out. He had been hired to carry spare mags and keep quiet, little more than a glorified bag-holder.

The heavy cackled like a delinquent god, somehow louder than the rolling thunder of the firefight wrapping the hull in orange blossoms of tracer. Spent casings clattered across the deck, hot brass pinging against the bulkhead in a glittering storm.

Hydraulic locks groaned and the hangar doors jerked open, peeling back to reveal the Fourth District sprawled below them, a forest of corrugated metal and exposed bricks. Smoke billowed from underneath, wreck-jammed streets and crumbling houses sprinkled in every direction.

"DIVE DIVE DIVE!"

The laughing mercenary tore through his safety straps with one violent twist, reinforced gauntlets ripping fabric to shreds. He seized Ajax's harness and punched the release, buckles snapping free. All around them the rest of the squad hurled themselves through the yawning exit, rotary barrels spinning, miniguns vomiting continuous streams that painted the sky with molten lead and impeding the flying monsters from entering through the open hatch.

"RELAX!" the heavy bellowed through garbled comms, his iron-hard prosthetic fingers clamping onto Ajax's vest. "THIS IS WHERE THE FUN BEGINS!"

He jumped and dragged the kicking, screaming Ajax with him.

SKREAAAAAAAGH

Crunch

G-class monster "Mouther" defeated!

+3 AP

Never had I been so relieved to squash a mouther flat against the pavement. The blob of guts parted under my weight like wet pulp, and a puff of rancid-smelling aerosol burst from its ruptured sacs. The system practically inhaled the AP as it provided a few seconds of fresh air to my endurance mode.

Inside the building, frantic voices screamed and swore. Someone hammered an empty rifle, the dry click echoing down the alley. They were out of ammunition, and I rushed to deal with the wall of flesh that was scratching and tearing at the structure to get in. I sank my claws into that curtain and tore long strips free, each tug peeling another slab of fanged meat until, finally, it was freed.

When the flap monsters finally stopped twitching, I limped to the wreck of a hatchback half buried in rubble. Burnt rust flaked off as I heaved on the frame, but it shifted. One ruined car after another screeched across cracked asphalt as I dragged them into position, forming a crooked barricade over every ground-level entry. I drove a length of rebar through two fused axles for extra bracing. It was ugly work, but that rough barrier would buy them protection, the place was run-down, and it would not hold a serious monster attack, their only real hope was to not draw any more attention.

I gestured at them to stay quiet and lay low, hoping they'd get the message. Heads bobbed, curtains dropped. I picked back up my payload, moving deeper into the district. Overhead, the flying multi-monsters drifted in lazy spirals (I'd yet to decide on an actual name for the things). Whenever the opportunity showed itself, I'd take loose rocks or bits of debris to chuck at them with considerable force. More often than not I'd miss, but my aim was improving.

In response, the flock had further spread out, I caught glimpses of the locals fighting back here and there, and I helped wherever things looked dire. Individually, each multi-monster didn't seem more dangerous than a high G-class, maybe a weakened F. But they made up for it with their numbers and what appeared to be an uncanny ability to sense prey. For a monster that didn't seem to have eyes or ears, I had to assume they had other means to pull this off.

My roars rolled along evacuated avenues, pulling stray feeders behind me, but I was mildly concerned that other monsters had started to show up from the district itself. The wave must have startled the local monsters hidden in nook and crannies into becoming more active. Or maybe it was that the normal roads under which they'd gather were now completely empty...

Whatever the case, I needed to get to the Well. It was the one place I was sure had the sort of monsters I could use to gorge on AP. Otherwise, I wasn't sure how I'd be able to keep the Sewer Saint's bunker from being overrun. I knew I should've been heading for the nearest point of command to scream that this was a C-class, but I'd realized almost too late that the whole sector was being jammed. If I couldn't run to inform, then my only option was to buy time. The original CYPHER blackout was due to necessary calculations regarding the A-class, once those were over, then the higher-level processing units would surely realize the nature of this threat and deploy help.

I just needed to buy time.

The sound of minigun fire punched through the drizzle. An armored AV hovered near the outer wall, its guns shredding the air into brass sleet. Multi-monsters clung to the hull, only to be carved apart. The AV's turrets swerved, tracer rounds firing in every direction as they tracked the multi-monsters.

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Including downward.

A bullet exploded against a nearby wall, and I cringed with a mix of anger and concern.

I hesitated. Bringing the AV down risked another massive explosion, and who knew how many innocent bystanders caught in the blast. Not doing anything would increase the likelihood someone got caught by a stray bullet.

The aircraft lurched and fled toward the inner ring. Judging by the shrieks, nobody had volunteered for that exit.

Before I could even get half-way to them, a dozen figures lunged out of the vehicle right as the AV made one final swerve and raced back towards the city. I was mostly certain they hadn't jumped out of desperation, but the screaming sort of gave it away. My gut told me they were invaders, another set of corpo intruders, yet it wasn't something I could just ignore.

I should've known better.

I climbed a tilted fire escape and eased over the adjacent rooftop. The moment I'd crested over the nearby building's rooftop to get a look, I heard a crackling whining sound that put my hairs on end.

BOOM

Pain exploded through my right foot. One claw sheared off, skin scorched where molten fragments kissed flesh. I rolled, and a second slug drilled a clean tunnel through the spot I'd been occupying.

Glancing back, I confirmed they should not have had a line of sight on me, those shots had punctured through three whole buildings.

Had they just shot me with a railgun?

The pain emanating from my foot and all the way up my leg helped me tamp down on the flutter of excitement. A railgun, they had railguns, at least one, and they'd managed to sense my location through multiple buildings! While the district was under jamming!

These were high-end mercenaries here for the "shush" monster!

Maybe they could be useful in this. The plan was working.

Another hypersonic round vaporized a hole through my right arm and I roared in pain, kicking the corrugated metal rooftop to push myself away. It caved in, unable to hold the strain as the whole roof broke, sending me into the building. Panic and confusion led the way as I threw myself through the nearest wall. A quick glance confirmed the shot had torn through bone, only muscle now allowing it to somewhat retain its shape, every step sending jolts of red hot agony up my shoulder. Apprehension was starting to set in as I tried to figure out how they were targeting me so accurately, I had activated shimmer, it should've been able to fool…

Oh.

These were high-end mercenaries.

They probably had some sort of low-level AI that tracked inconsistencies in-

Another hypersonic round vaporized the ledge where my knee had been a heartbeat ago, the mere proximity of its trajectory stinging against my skin. I lunged for the neighboring roof; the wounded foot folded halfway, turning the landing into a scrambled roll that my less-human proportions turned into missing the leap and slamming against the edge. The half-crippled attempt to hold on risked dropping my cargo, so I let go instead, using my good arm to claw at the walls to slow my descent.

The hard fall sent shocks up my toe-stump, I bit my tongue and half-ran, half-limped onward and away from the mercenaries. I could hear the crashing sounds behind me, trash cans and broken glass followed by something entirely new: a faint buzz.

Drones.

Ignoring the pain in my claw and arm, I started running faster, as fast as I could, no longer bothering to dodge and instead plowing through everything in my way. There was only one possible reason they would deploy drones when the whole district was under electromagnetic jamming.

The buzzing closed in fast, I spotted them at the very corner of my eye.

Three tiny drones, each one barely the size of a ping pong ball, drawing erratic beelines straight towards my position. I didn't bother to swipe at them, instead throwing myself face-first into the nearest wall.

I felt the impact before I heard the explosions. Two of the drones had tried to chase, impacting directly against debris, turning into bright deafening tiny flashes, but one found its mark on my upper shoulder blade. I roared in pain, stumbling through brick to surge out the other side. My right arm was completely useless, blood running down my forearm from the destroyed bone and flesh, the briefcase dropped somewhere inside the building, but there was too much panic to stop.

Because those had been head-hunter drones.

Self-targeting micro-drone technology was strongly frowned upon, with any instantiation used in targeting a human being grounds for immediate execution. But that had not stopped their development for combatting monster, the problem being the battery-components for each micro-drone cost over a hundred credits. Normally, that would make them not worth the price.

My pursuers clearly thought otherwise.

Dropping through a hatch, I held my bad shoulder with my good claw, wildly looking every which way in hopes of recognizing anything in my surroundings. A familiar rat graffiti greeted me, the mouse sitting on a pile of grated cheese and holding a bazooka. And not one multi-monster in sight! The flock left behind, distracted and focused on everything else.

I gave a tiny mental cheer.

I'd made it through the last vestiges of houses and had now entered the industrial park that surrounded the Well. The third district wall loomed now, close enough I could vaguely make out the shape of turrets on the very top.

But the space was far more open now, the roads straight, and very little cover outside off… My gaze lingered on the industrial buildings, each one large and clunky. The pain on my arm and foot begged me to run there and go inside, break line of sight and make pursuit harder. At least until I noticed how many cars had been arranged in improvised barricades near the entrances, how here and there would be heads peeking out of windows, how the air reeked of sweat and fear.

Entering any of those buildings could get people caught in the crossfire.

Every fiber of my being screamed as I ran harder and faster now that I wasn't encumbered by narrow alleyways and trash. The clogged roads with abandoned cars turned into stepping stones crushed underneath, putting as much momentum into my stride and paying painful attention in search of two possible distinctive sounds.

The moment I heard the electric whine, I lunged as the "BOOM" echoed between the buildings.

Peeking over my shoulder, I saw my attacker for the first time emerging from the house I'd torn up.

It was a team, at least a dozen of them. But one figure stood over the rest, a heavily armored man at least twice the width of any other mercenary and half over their height. The cyborg (it could be nothing else with that much bulk) held the smoking railgun, multiple thin robotic arms removing the red-hot barrel and being handed another by the meek blonde standing next to him. The warped barrel was picked up by a second porter.

The mercenary team were fanning out into shooting positions.

Their firearms were trained on me, but they did not make a move.

Monster hunting 101: draw the monster into a kill-field.

I stopped and turned, focused on the heavy weapon and also keeping an eye out for any more head-hunter drones.

The juggernaut took aim, the gun emitting a faint glow.

The cyborg's face was hidden behind a blackened protective helmet, I imagined he had blue eyes and we'd locked gazes.

My legs coiled, good claw digging into the hood of the car.

The railgun began to whine, jolts of electricity dancing between the metal places, licking up the cyborg's arms in arches that grew brighter.

My back tightened into a knot, jaw clenched.

The world held its breath.

Rather than jump, I used my claw to yank myself downward.

The space overhead screamed in red-hot fury, air turning into plasma in the wake of the superheated projectile. The trail burning a line where my chest had been half a second earlier, followed by a deafening BOOM that left my ears ringing.

Temporarily deaf but perfectly able to see the sparking ricochets from the mercenary's fire, I kept low, using the cars for cover while I half-limped to break line of sight.

Internally, I was counting down.

Twenty seconds to replace the barrel slowly. Ten in a rush.

Five seconds after that to charge the shot.

Two.

Grabbed a broken piece of wreckage.

One.

Jumped.

The shot punched a hole clean through the car, leaving behind a red-hot tube of slag. I flung the torn door at them with my left. A throw that went wide, but forced them all to duck for cover. It bought me the time I needed to round the corner and break line of sight, every inch of space was an excuse to push harder until my lungs were burning. Every step only made the pain in my right leg and arm worse, but I only needed to hold on a little longer.

Just until I got to the Well. Just kill a few monsters, regenerate, get-

Roaring engines snapped my attention to the sight of five AV's racing over the lip of the wall and down straight towards us. Each one branded with a different color scheme and insignia.

Each one branded with the markings of a different mercenary group.

They opened fire.

And I ran.

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