“All right, Mr. Donner, that’s all of my questions. Do you have anything you want to ask me before we wrap up?”

  “Well. So. How dangerous is this job? Not for me necessarily, but for people like Jett?”

  “Oh. Well, the job is risky, but we’ve only had one casualty, and it was in our first three months of deploying teams. None since then, and only a couple of injuries that were bad enough to require hospitalization.”

  “What happened? That one time?”

  “Team Dominion faced off against an unexpectedly strong sorcerer. Their healer got cornered. We’re a lot more careful now.”

  Lina lit into the grunt with her batons. She danced around the heavily armored soldier, rebounding off walls and ceiling like a crazed frog. He tried to turn and train his rifle on her, but he was hopelessly outmatched. Jessie almost felt sorry for him.

  Finally, a precise strike to the side of the head shattered part of the helmet, and her baton struck him in the jaw, drawing blood and cracking bone. He staggered to the side, putting a hand to the hole, groaning. Then, with an almost inaudible snick, he dropped to the floor. He was too dazed to fight any further, and the injectors had triggered.

  Lina gave the “all clear” hand signal.

  They were methodically sweeping the offices before moving on to the storeroom. There were two guards at the side door, they’d encountered another pair patrolling, and these last two had been waiting in ambush.

  The room they’d emerged from was completely dark. “I’ll sweep,” Chris said, and he ran in. As he’d explained to Jessie, he had a Cold Sense skill–like the inverse of IR goggles. Anything noticeably cooler than anything else appeared brightly to him when he used the skill, while living bodies and other warm things showed up as shadows.

  “All clear,” he said a moment later. “Utility room, looks like. They broke the breaker panel.”

  The others nodded. That explained why the offices were so dark. The storeroom had skylights, so there would be visibility there, but the basement level was likely to be pitch black.

  They moved further in.

  “Floor,” Chris announced, just before Fu slid, her mechsuit whirring and grinding to correct her stance.

  “Bitch made a skating rink,” she muttered, testing the traction of one of her metal-clad feet.

  Jessie trained her k-rifle down the dark hallway. There were numerous crates and other debris. A metal table on its side. The only reason to set a trap like this…

  “Contact!” she yelled, and sent a punch from her k-rifle into the table.

  There was a clatter and a yell as the table slammed backward and then went careening across the room, revealing the prone form of a grunt who had been crouched behind the table. He tried to scramble to his feet, only to be enveloped in green as Junpei hit him with an acid blast. It sizzled against the armor, and the soldier coughed as the airborn cloud of noxious gas ate into the filters of the suicide suit. Fu finished him off with a couple of well placed shots.

  “Go, go, go!” Chris ran down the hallway, easily keeping his own footing on the ice. He gave a hand signal, and Tala’s wolf Sora, the only other team member who could reliably run on the slickened floor, joined him at his side. The rest of the team stepped cautiously across the ice.

  A shot rang out, but Chris produced his sword and dove behind a crate. There were several scrapes and thuds and the crackle of frost forming.

  “All clear!” he yelled. Then, “Gah!”

  There was a crash and the scrabbling of feet. It sounded close, but Jessie couldn’t tell from where. Then Sora emerged from behind the crates and pounced.

  The wolf tackled something to the slippery floor. It took on a humanoid shape, and in seconds a man was lying on the ground, desperately trying to shove away the snapping wolf.

  “I surrender!” he yelled. “I give up! Please!”

  Jessie took out a set of handcuffs. Kidane, the healer, pulled the man to his feet and patted him down, coming away with a handgun and multiple knives.

  “Forsake your artifact,” she commanded. “Tell us what it is and where you’re wearing it.”

  “Anklet,” he sighed. “Right foot. I forsake it as my artifact.”

  Kidane found the item and unclasped it as Jessie fastened the cuffs.

  Chris staggered back toward them. He had a knife wound in his side. Kidane gasped and immediately went over to him, and Junpei took over helping to make sure the sorcerer was restrained.

  “What’s your real name?” Jessie asked.

  “Silas Trenholm.”

  Jessie clicked on her radio. “Captain? We have Silas Trenholm, the sorcerer known as ‘Whisper,’ in custody. We’re in a hallway just outside the main storeroom. Offices are clear.”

  “Good work, corporal,” said Captain Tetsumi. “We’ll send a couple of Elites in to pick him up.”

  “Where are the others?” Jessie asked Whisper.

  “That room,” he said, nodding toward the storeroom. “Blackout’s helping Mantis hide. She’s batshit. I don’t know where Brick went. The basement, maybe.”

  “Soldiers?”

  “A few on the catwalks, a few watching the loading bay doors. The rest are watching the other exits.”

  Footsteps sounded behind them, the other GPD Elites arriving to drag the sorcerer off.

  So far so good. They were nearly to the storeroom, and they’d already taken out nearly half of the Garrison’s troops.

  Why, then, was Jessie’s worry only mounting?

  I knew what this was.

  I studied Marin as we both drank down our vials of bluntsab. Yeah, I knew exactly what was going on here. I knew the script.

  Cocky young rookie gets challenged by unassuming old person. Well okay, maybe Marin wasn’t that old, but that’s the role she was filling and I won’t pretend otherwise. Old person wipes the damn floor with cocky young rookie. Cocky young rookie slinks off in shame and learns an Important Lesson about humility or running before he can walk or some shit.

  Well, screw that. Maybe I would lose this match no matter what I did, but I sure as hell was going to take Marin seriously and make the best showing I could.

  “You know,” I said, “you do have an advantage here. You know my powers—in fact, Valery has them completely documented. I have no idea what you can do.”

  “What do you think the real world will look like, Fulgen?” she asked. “The whole city already knows who you are. The Garrison has undercover and sleeper agents in unknown numbers. You’re never going to know more about your opponents than they do about you.”

  That… was a point I couldn’t argue.

  “Good luck, Fulgen,” she said. “I really do have high hopes for you.”

  “All right, contenders!” shouted Valery, apparently still in a control room somewhere even for this event. “You begin on my signal! Usual sparring rules, strictly enforced! Fight is continuous and ends when one side surrenders or is incapacitated—that means unconscious, unable to stand, or aethervoir completely drained!”

  I studied Marin, trying to get any kind of hint. She’d assumed a fighting stance, loose and relaxed, and she hadn’t opted for any kind of weapon. I realized one thing instantly. She would fight with the same precision with which she approached everything else. Just like her regular work, she would approach this with the touch of a golden pen. She would act when she needed to and not before. And when she acted, it would be with elegance, precision, and decisiveness like the strokes of her pen across a sheet of paper.

  Her signature move.

  I wouldn’t be able to goad her into a mistake. In fact, I guessed she would be almost completely reactive, moving only when I did, striking when I let my guard down to attack.

  But with what? What could I do to counter it?

  “Ready?”

  Wait… Fu. Fushigi Tetsumi and her strange nicknames. She had a particularly odd one for Marin. Most of her nicknames, while weird, tied to something about that person. I was Fireman. Wally was Sabaton, after his metal shoes. Jessie was “Bee-Ho,” which was an obscure reference to her being a brick house.

  What had she called Marin? What?

  “Go!”

  I shook myself, cursing that I’d let myself become distracted. I summoned Night Train and assumed a ready stance. Marin also stood at the ready. I decided to pause and observe for a moment, seeing if she would make the first move.

  As it turned out, she did. We were still standing twenty feet apart. She thrust her fist to the side, and I got punched in the back of the head.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  The “new objective” didn’t make any damn sense.

  Brick had known this from the moment he heard it, but he’d ignored it. At the time? Anything, anything to end this impossible mission and get himself away from Mantis once and for all.

  Now, as the moment approached, he was less certain.

  “Mantis was never a valuable asset in and of herself,” Double M had assured him. “You can obviously see why. She’s volatile. She barely sticks to mission parameters regarding collateral damage. No, what’s special about her—what’s very special—is her artifact. It’s deadly in her hands, to be sure. But in other hands, it could be made even deadlier.

  “So we need you to do this, Brick. For your sake, for the sake of many of our interests. And frankly, for Mantis’s sake as well.”

  “Contact!”

  Brick looked up, squinting to see into the room above. He was at the bottom of the elevator shaft, an honor guard of three grunts ready to provide support if he needed it. Snowcrest had entered the storeroom and had engaged the grunts on the catwalks. In the light from the skylights far above, he could just barely make out the silhouettes of Mantis and Blackout, mostly invisible thanks to Blackout’s skills, waiting for their chance to strike.

  Shots rang out. Returning fire from the girl with the mechsuit. Distorted k-rifle shots from that powerful Elite cop.

  Then—

  “Junpei!” cried a female voice. “Sorcerer down!”

  Mantis laughed, a chilling sound, and the room above lit in blue light. Twin ice beams lanced out from her.

  “It’s Mantis! Move to encircle!”

  “Kidane! Help Junpei!”

  “She’s freezing me! I can’t move!”

  More shouting. A few more gunshots. The buzz of the ice beams and the crackling of victims being encased. Then Mantis’s hissing voice.

  “Let’s go, Ice Guardian.”

  “What do you think you can—what?!”

  Brick shifted his position, moved until he could see Mantis again. Most of the room was quiet now. Mantis had both of her hands facing in one direction, blasting ice beams.

  “What’s happening?” Chris Eisner’s strained voice called out.

  Brick’s hand was shaking. But he checked his sidearm, clibcked off the safety, and raised it.

  “On my mark, Brick,” said Double M.

  He aimed at Mantis’s back.

  Porter! That was it!

  I lightly congratulated myself even as I took another kick to the gut. It all made sense now. Fu called Marin “Porter.” Her power involved teleportation. Did her interest in those Garrison beacons have anything to do with that?

  A question for another time. I charged toward Marin with a thruster burst and swung. She blinked away and reappeared standing on Night Train’s front section. I didn’t dare switch the weapon to spear mode for this fight, but I immolated it with Feverflame. Still, it would do little against her feet. She leapt up and kicked me in the face, sending me to my back.

  [This isn’t going well.]

  ?What would I do without you??

  So, the woman had a full body teleport. She could also open some kind of gateway she could pass a fist or a foot through, which wasn’t really helping my hit and fade technique. I rolled back to my feet, lest Valery call the match.

  What the hell could I do? I had almost no way of predicting where she’d attack from. Angle didn’t seem to be important. She could punch to the side and take me in the back, lunge forward and hit my side. Hell, she could probably stomp on the floor, and it would kick me in the nads. And she could easily strike outside my field of vision.

  Wait…

  ?Heat sense. Heat sense!?

  [You may be on to something. Too bad you haven’t trained it past tier 1 yet.]

  I activated the skill, and Marin glowed brightly in my vision. I mentally shut out the mass of warm bodies watching on the other side of the glass. I watched, and sensed.

  There.

  The skill worked most clearly within my field of vision and was much more vague outside of it, but I could sense her body to my left as she opened a portal for another strike. I stepped back and could clearly see her fist protruding from a hole in space. I struck it before she could pull it back.

  Heat Sense has reached Tier 1 Level 6.

  [Very good. But you made that a little too obvious, so now she’s going to be more careful.]

  Sure enough, she started striking me almost completely from behind, giving me no angle to turn her attacks in my favor. And I couldn’t sense her movements soon enough.

  There was nothing else for it. I closed my eyes completely and used the skill alone to sense her position.

  [What are you doing?]

  ?I need to improve this. Won’t be the first time I’ve tiered something up during a fight.?

  I took many, many more hits, and my health stuttered down, my aethervoir also slowly leaching away to heal me. The "desperation" modifier triggered on Rekindled Flame. I swung like, well, a blind man, occasionally connecting or warding off her attacks, but mostly fighting like a drunk man playing a whack-a-mole game from hell.

  However, the skill was ticking up as I used it in a high-stakes fight against a high level opponent.

  Heat Sense has reached Tier 1 Level 8.

  Heat Sense has reached Tier 1 Level 9.

  I got close enough to her to take a direct swing. Again she teleported her entire body, this time appearing behind me and executing a throw that slammed me into the wall.

  ?Habby, as soon as I’m ready to rank up, help me find a modifier that’ll let me see what she’s doing more quickly.?

  [You should really review all the choices…]

  ?Did I freaking stutter??

  I remained with my back to the wall for a few seconds, realizing that this actually limited Marin’s attack angles. She compensated by striking more quickly, and from the sides. Repeated jabs, leaving little time to react and try to hit her back.

  Heat Sense has reached Tier 1 Level 10. Tier upgrade available.

  ?Give me something!?

  [O-okay, uh, one moment!]

  I opened my eyes, giving me a bit more awareness. Marin accelerated her attacks, perhaps sensing that I was trying something. I tried a fireball, which she easily sidestepped.

  My aethervoir dropped below 25%. A lot of it was from physical enhancement and regeneration, but I realized the drain from Heat Sense, especially full 360 degree awareness, was more considerable than I’d thought.

  Habby spoke rapidly and as if he were out of breath. [This might be the best option! Detailed Heat Sense! Increases clarity and level of detail for both visual and peripheral heat vision! It might help you see where she’s striking from more precisely!]

  ?Lock it in!?

  My aethervoir’s downward trend immediately sped up. I stilled myself and concentrated, waiting for Marin’s next move. I dismissed Night Train so I would have both hands free. She hesitated for a moment, then punched.

  That one still hit me, but I could see her incoming hand to the side much more clearly. A couple more hits, and I thought I had the feel of it. Habby had pulled through.

  And speaking of pulling through, I snapped my hand to the side and caught her wrist on the next punch, causing her to gasp. I immolated my hand in Feverflame, then twisted and yanked her through the portal. It stopped at the shoulder, and she slammed into her own teleporter as if she’d hit a wall. I punched her armpit with my free hand before her entire arm disappeared, the portal vanishing and snapping her arm back to its original position. It now hung limp from my strike. Marin gazed at me in shock. Then she gave me a slight nod of respect.

  Taking Night Train out again, I advanced on her. I swung, and she teleported. I reacted instantly, catching her with a hook kick to the ribs. My Hyper Reflexes and my newly upgraded Heat Sense were synergizing beautifully. She teleported again, and I swung my stick into her stomach. Once more, and now she was right behind me. She hit me with a kidney punch, and I doubled over and fell to my knees. I could sense her there, preparing a powerful overhand blow, but I was momentarily in too much pain to move.

  My aethervoir was at 5%.

  There was only one thing I could think of to do. It was one of the first moves I’d theorycrafted, way back in that jail cell, as Habby explained my basic skills, and when I promoted my Torch skill to tier 2 I confirmed that it worked. I could now project the blast of flame from any part of my body. And given our current positions, there was only one part of me pointed at her that could possibly hit her.

  Habby must have gotten a sense what I was about to do.

  [Jett. Jett, no. Don’t do it, Jett. Take the loss. It doesn’t have to be this way. Jett! Please, the eternal dignity of the Guardians—]

  I bent over further as Marin’s attack came down, double checked that the positioning was still right, activated the skill, and let ‘er rip.

  I farted fire, right in Isabel Marin’s face.

  Jessie was barely conscious. All she felt was cold. Just like the entire team, she was mostly encased in ice. Tala was knocked out, her two pets vanishing as a result. Junpei’s eyes were slitted. Kidane looked alert, but he was most likely spending all of his energy healing himself. Poor Fu was completely encased. Hopefully her life support would keep her suit warm and keep her from suffocating, but hope was all Jessie had to go on.

  Blackout, one of the enemy sorcerers, lay in a puddle of blood near Mantis’s feet, having taken a bullet from Fu. The other one, Brick, was unaccounted for.

  Mantis had opted not to behead them or freeze and shatter them from the inside out. Jessie doubted her reasons were magnanimous. In fact, the crazed woman occasionally glanced around, checking not only that they were still trapped but that they were still watching.

  Watching, as she killed Chris Eisner the Ice Guardian.

  Using ice.

  Mantis had her ice beam trained on the captain of Team Snowcrest. It had pinned him against the wall and encased him. He was groaning, struggling.

  Feedback. She’d overwhelmed his ability to absorb ice and undo its damage. He was growing weaker by the moment.

  Jessie was on her side, stuck to the floor. She could just barely move her left hand inside her ice prison. At least, she thought she was moving it. She could barely feel it anymore. Even breathing was difficult with the ice restricting her. But she thought her hand was close to Dragonfang. If she could touch it… if she could draw it…

  “Easy over there!” Mantis hissed.

  Jessie gasped as the ice constricted around her further. How? She was overpowering Chris while actively reinforcing the ice trapping her and her teammates? How powerful was she now? Tier 4? Higher? What insane artifact was she wielding?

  Mantis was babbling now. “I will. I will kill them all. Him first, then the rest. Shut up! We still need to escape! I can’t do that! Shut up! You’re just like all the rest!”

  Mantis shook herself and looked around, as if to see if anyone had noticed her lapse. What was going on inside her head? Something more than just sociopathy, clearly. Jessie hoped in vain that her instability would cause her ice beam to veer off course and allow Chris a chance to recover, but it was as if something were holding her hand in place for her.

  Jessie tried to move her own hand again. Her vision was getting dark around the edges. She felt… sleepy. Those that were still conscious were groaning, but those groans were growing quieter. Not just because they were getting weaker the same way she was. It was as if she were hearing them from the bottom of a well. Then…

  Then there was another sound. A loud one. Followed by a scream.

  Jessie’s eyes snapped open. Mantis had stopped her ice beam, and she was doubled over. “Brick?” she rasped.

  Chris groaned.

  There was another sound, a gunshot. Blood erupted from Mantis’s back. By the angle, it had come from the basement.

  Had Brick finally had a fit of conscience?

  Mantis let out a bitter laugh. “You’re meaner than me, Brick! Meaner than me, meaner than me! Remember that! Meaner than me!”

  She continued to laugh and shriek, the sound tinged with insanity, as more shots rang out. Only a few hit her, but she collapsed to the floor. Retreating footsteps echoed up from below.

  The ice began to recede, as if actively weakening along with the sorcerer who had created it. Soon Jessie could shift inside her prison.

  Mantis got to her knees and resumed blasting Chris with her ice beam. She still screamed “Meaner than me!” It was a loud, shrill, and strangely defiant sound filling the empty space of the warehouse. Jessie wormed her fingers closer to Dragonfang’s hidden hilt.

  “Meaner than me, Brick! Meaner than me! Meaner than me! Meaner–”

  Jessie grasped the hilt and felt strength surge through her. She heaved, and her arm shattered from the shell of ice, gripping the dagger. Mantis turned toward her, her face a terrifying mask of pain and rage, and she began to redirect the ice beam toward her.

  Jessie hurled the weapon. The angle was bad, and Jessie’s consciousness was fading again. She was completely dependent on Dragonfang’s uncanny ability to fly true. Fortunately, it didn’t disappoint on this day.

  Dragonfang drove into Mantis’s chest between the ribs. She collapsed.

  Jessie shivered as she pulled herself out of the ice. She wanted to sleep. If she could just sleep. She grasped her radio in numb fingers, said a little prayer that it would still work, and clicked it on. She looked over at Chris, who was now unconscious, Ice encasing him like he’d been trapped by a spider.

  “Captain,” she panted. “Mantis… down. Brick… running. Send Elites. All of us… cold. Need… medical…”

  Jessie collapsed, and the radio slipped from her fingers.