"I won." Johan breathed hard, staring down at his handiwork, dumbstruck. By some miracle, he'd defeated Selim.
"I'm a total badass!" A laugh escaped Johan's lips. Samuel would never believe this.
"Get it together, Johan," he thought, chastising himself. Yareli was still in danger! Before doing anything, he checked his phone for any messages from Rebecca. The girl had messaged him 639 times.
"Johan, thank God you answered!" Johan winced, pulling the phone away from his ear. "Are you okay? What's happening? You haven't answered my texts!"
"I'm fine. I haven't answered because I've been fighting for my life," Johan replied, testily. "It'd take too long to explain. The short version is that Selim is dead, and the Niflhel have scattered." He staggered down the stairs while he talked, using the railing for support.
"Selim, dead?" Rebecca's voice caught.
"We aren't out of hot water yet. Ymir is here. I'm pretty injured. I'm not sure if I can help Yareli." Crimson oozed through his bandages. His wounds had reopened from the struggle with Selim.
"Unfortunately, I have worse news. The army is almost at your location. Some Niflhel tried slowing them down, but the army got lucky and actually beat them. The Niflhel's armlets aren't very tough."
Johan swore under his breath. "Terrific."
"They'll be arriving in two minutes. The news has been covering the crisis pretty thoroughly. I'm watching them approach you right now."
"We need to leave." Johan's mind raced, wondering how they'd accomplish that miracle.
"Don't worry. I got that part covered!" Rebecca said, her voice turning smug. "Alex is lending Samuel a nondescript van. He's out front, ready for you. The army is approaching from the opposite direction. It gives us some time, but get moving. You've got a few minutes at best!"
"Roger." Johan hung up, stumbling out the door leading to the parking garage. He surveyed the scene, praying he wasn't too late.
Johan winced as a loud boom struck his ears, then screamed as a car flew right towards him. Somehow, he ducked in time, and the vehicle planted itself into the door behind him, blocking any escape in that direction.
Yareli danced around her opponent, her claws a blur as she exchanged blows with President Wilson. From his stance, Johan could tell the man was an experienced boxer. While his friend had landed some stinging blows, Wilson stayed firm. Johan winced as a blow struck Yareli's helmeted jaw, hurling her into the ceiling. She collapsed with a thud, snarling as she rose back to her feet. His goons watched from the sidelines, not interfering in their boss's fight.
"I can't believe how strong he is." He'd thought Yareli's new form would provide a better edge. Fenrir froze as she saw him coming.
"We need to skedaddle now! No time to explain!" Johan said.
Yareli faltered, clearly intent on finishing her battle against the Ymir president, despite the clear advantages he held over her. Much to Johan's surprise, Ymir's president paused.
"The army must be here." A scowl appeared on Wilson's monstrous avian face, then he pulled the key from his Angra Armlet.
"What?" Johan gaped. Didn't he want to work together with the army to capture Yareli?
"Tell me, young man. Did Selim escape?" Wilson asked as his form shifted back to human.
Johan stood straighter, glaring at Ymir's president with defiance. "No. I killed him."
A slight smile appeared on Wilson's face, giving Johan a respectful nod. "Good. That's one problem solved. Get going. I can't allow the army to interfere with our battle. We'll finish this later, Fenrir."
"Hop on." Yareli bent down, presenting her back to Johan.
After eyeing the Ymir president with suspicion, Johan complied. With blinding speed, Yareli darted toward a far stairwell. The rough ride sent spikes of pain through Johan, but he bore it. Behind them, they heard boots marching into the parking garage. Wilson watched them disappear, his expression unreadable.
---
"Run it by me again. What happened?" General Hallaway slammed his fists onto Wilson's desk.
"As I explained, we arrived on the scene and dealt with the Niflhel threat," Wilson replied calmly.
"Then why was the scene a bloodbath?" Hallaway asked. "What happened to their leader?"
"We'll do this a hundred times until we get some straight answers, President Wilson!" Chief Greer wasn't much calmer, either.
The carnage Fenrir had wrought disturbed the soldiers when they arrived, almost opening fire on Wilson's men in fear. But they entered an uneasy truce when Dino and the others untransformed. While Wilson had claimed the fog of war was the reason for the bloodshed, it wasn't an excuse they'd accept readily. Wilson had no intention of revealing Fenrir's existence to anyone. She was Ymir's problem.
"We'll comply however we can, but the battle made it difficult to remember any specific details."
"Fine, play dumb," Chief Greer said. "They may have been murderers, but killing an unarmed man is still murder."
Wilson nodded. "Thank you for your assistance, General Hallaway. Your timely arrival helped quell the civil unrest created by the Niflhel. Bifrost owes you its thanks."
Hallaway only snorted. His soldiers had only mopped up the remainder of the Niflhel and confiscated their Angra Armlets, which rankled the general. After delivering several more threats and reminding Wilson he wasn't above the law, they left his office.
"What a mess! The press is having a field day with this debacle. Everyone is blaming Ymir for what happened!" Lauper glanced at her phone again, sighing in relief when her daughter finally texted her back. The Chief Strategy Officer's mood improved, regaining her professional calm.
Ymir's stock price had plummeted even further. The governor had ordered an investigation into the corporation and threatened to freeze its assets. The Bifrost Police Department Massacre, a cheerful name coined by the media, had stained Ymir's reputation further. Some people accused the Angra Armlet of causing the Niflhel's extreme level of violence.
"We might need to speed up the timetable for Ragnarök," Wilson said.
"Again?" Lauper made a face. "We're already pushing up production as much as possible." They'd procured another factory to renew work on new Angra Armlets. But if the media caught wind of it, it'd be a PR nightmare. She told her boss as much.
"We'll have to risk it," Wilson said.
"I have a better idea—one that doesn't depend on the Angra Armlets," Halvorsen said, finally showing his face.
"What? You've learned how to mass-produce Ragnadrivers?" Lauper asked.
"Almost. They will match the Ragnadriver's power, but won't be as dangerous," the scientist replied. "It uses the same nanotechnology the Ragnadriver uses. It's called Project: Brokkr."
"Fascinating. But I notice you've started this project without my go-ahead." Wilson's voice contained a warning.
"You said it yourself. The situation is becoming difficult," Halvorsen replied. "Without it, we can't destroy Fenrir."
There, that grudge again. "I handled myself well enough."
"But for how long? You've seen how her powers have evolved! She's a danger to everyone! Can you be certain she won't go berserk again?! You've seen what she did to those Niflhel. We were lucky no civilians were around!"
Wilson sighed, unable to argue. He also feared Fenrir was a danger to everyone, just like the legendary monstrous wolf of myth. "Okay. Put any amount of resources you require on Project: Brokkr. But I want results. You better have something substantial by next week. Understand, doctor?"
While confident Halvorsen was hiding something, they shared the same goal—to reforge the world into a better place. As long as the doctor's personal hatred of Fenrir didn't impede his work, Wilson would tolerate it. Besides, they'd gone too far to replace the man now.
"Understood. But don't worry. My Valkyries are out searching for Fenrir. She won't get the jump on us again. We will find her."
---
"Dear God, what happened to your face?!" Rebecca asked as Johan dragged himself into the Data Pirates' Den.
"It was Selim. The bastard had me tortured." Behind him, Yareli stiffened when he lied to protect her. His friend still hadn't lost her bizarre transformation, slinking in the shadows to avoid being seen.
"The bastard." Rebecca peered at the figure hiding under a table. "Yareli? Is that you?"
"Monster!" Alex screamed in fright. The word made Yareli flinch.
"Don't freak out. It's still Yareli, despite how she looks. Come out. We won't panic." Johan glared at Alex as she hid behind the bar counter. "We're still your friends." Everyone gasped as Yareli revealed her new form.
"Yareli!" While scared, Rebecca kept her cool.
"Yeah, it's me." Yareli sounded resigned.
"Damn, what happened?" Samuel said, arms crossed.
"Johan was in danger, and I transformed into this to save him. That's all I know." Yareli's voice contained a grimace.
"Wait, Yareli? That biker girl?" Alex said, completely lost.
"It's a long story." Rebecca sighed, moving closer to Yareli to examine her new form. "Fascinating. Uhyre keys respond to emotion, but I never realized they had this effect!"
"I suppose it proves my key is why I'm still alive," Yareli said. "It saved me from death somehow."
"It seems likely," Rebecca said, nodding. "I found a clue in that regard. I was searching Ymir's past employee records, looking for anything suspicious. An employee named Mallory Cotillard died under mysterious circumstances about three years ago."
Yareli's voice caught. "And you think that's me?"
Rebecca shook her head. "We can't be sure yet. But it's a plausible theory."
"Who was she?" Johan asked.
"She was born in Nantes, France. Both of her parents mysteriously disappeared when Mallory was a baby. She grew up in an orphanage."
"Mysteriously disappeared?" Johan raised an eyebrow.
Rebecca could only shrug. "There was a missing person's report, but the police never found them. Mallory's story gets stranger. At eight, she entered her into a special Ymir program for gifted youths. It had over 3,000 candidates, and Mallory showed exceptional promise in martial training and athletics. She received an exceptional education in Oslo, Norway, with several scholarships for further education."
"Sounds like an exceptional person," Yareli said. "What happened next?"
"Here's where a familiar name rears its ugly head. Ymir offered Mallory an opportunity to participate in a special, unknown project led by Valter Halvorsen. After that, the details get hazy. The official report says she died of a heart attack at age twenty-three."
"Didn't you say she was an exceptional athlete?" Johan crossed his arms. "Her heart must have been fantastic! And how do you die of a heart attack at age twenty-three?"
"The doctor's report is vague on that issue," Rebecca replied. "After some digging, however, I discovered that the doctor who wrote the report doesn't exist. Ymir did their damnedest to cover up the death."
"They're hiding something, then." Yareli fidgeted in place, growing more agitated by the second. "Did you uncover anything else?"
"Little, unfortunately." Rebecca shook her head. "They covered their tracks well."
"So Halvorsen is the person we need," Yareli said, voice turned dangerous.
"Now, let's not do anything reckless, Yareli!" Rebecca said, catching the threat in her friend's voice.
Johan nodded, also giving Yareli a nervous glance. "Agreed. We're all in terrible shape. We need time to recover first."
His worry deepened when Yareli only offered a stiff nod, which looked odd on her wolf-like body. Alex went stiff in terror as the bone-wolf creature paced the room, fearful she might get attacked.
Not that he could blame Yareli's reaction, of course. Not knowing her past tormented his friend. Johan wasn't sure he'd do differently in her position. Still, this new form worried him. Yareli seemed less in control of herself. The scene of the helpless Niflhel torn to shreds flashed back into his mind, unbidden.
"We can worry about that later. I need to see a doctor." While the medspray had saved him from bleeding to death, it wasn't a substitute for an actual doctor.
"Right, I'll get the van," Rebecca said. "The back-alley hospital is only a couple of blocks away."
Samuel helped carry him to Rebecca's vehicle. Yareli watched them go with a concerned expression on her skeletal, wolf-like face. Johan feared leaving her. Without him, she wouldn't have regained her humanity during the fight in that parking lot.
Alex gave Yareli nervous glances, fearful of being alone with her. Thankfully, Samuel volunteered to stay behind and watch over things. Johan hoped his presence would help soothe Yareli's restless spirit. Their mutual friend was curled up in a corner, pointedly wanting to be alone.
"Don't worry, Yareli—or rather, Mallory. We'll figure this out. You're not a monster, and you'll never be one," Johan thought.
---
"You're back," Christakis Schinis said, failing to keep the tremble out of his voice. "How did you find this place?"
"I have my ways," Haken replied, stumbling into the room. Crimson bled through his shirt from a wound Fenrir had given him. Though he'd escaped the police station alive, the rest of his friends weren't as lucky. With their leader dead, they'd fled in random directions, making them easy prey for the Bifrost police. Without Selim, their gang was rudderless.
"What do you want?" Schinis asked.
A bag slammed against a nearby desk. The black-market arms dealer cautiously peeked inside and gasped—it was filled with money. It represented Niflhel's entire savings.
"I want you to build me more Angra Armlets. This should be enough to make hundreds."
"You want more?" Schinis' eyes widened, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks.
"Money is money, right?" There was a threat in Haken's voice. "What does it matter what I use it for?" The man sold guns and black-market tech—this was hardly the time to grow a conscience.
A smile crept across Haken's face as he saw the naked greed in Schinis' eyes. Just as he suspected—morals melted away in the presence of money.
"This time, we're using better materials. And upgrading their specs." Haken had spent enough time with the Angra Armlets to understand their design.
He already had ideas for improvement. Ymir and Bifrost had underestimated him. They might have defeated Niflhel—but so long as he lived, the gang would never truly die. They would pay for Selim's death. All of them would.
A sly grin spread across Schinis' face. "I'm sure we can reach a mutually beneficial arrangement."
A cough made both men jump.
"I'm afraid I can't allow that," a voice said.
"The cops!" Schinis blurted, terrified.
"Show yourself!" Haken shouted, drawing his Uhyre Key and attaching an Angra Armlet he'd grabbed during his escape. He itched for payback.
Much to their surprise, a man in an expensive suit stepped into the room, followed by a burly bodyguard easily a meter taller.
"Who the hell are you?" Haken demanded.
"My name is Sten Simensen, president of Ophion Industries," the suited man said.
Haken blinked. "Sorry?"
Greed overtook Schinis again. "Are you here for business? I'm well accustomed to…discreet deals."
Simensen's face twisted in disgust before settling into a serene expression. "That won't be necessary. I'm here to kill you."
"What?" Schinis' voice pitched upward in panic.
"I don't want a repeat of what happened." Simensen's tone remained calm. "I may not be native to Bifrost, but I've grown to love this city. I don't appreciate the chaos you've caused."
Just another self-righteous fool. "You don't know what you're dealing with. Terrorize!"
Haken transformed into a monstrous ape, smashing a nearby table into splinters.
"While this is a bit premature for a test run, I suppose it's for a worthy cause." Simensen casually withdrew a belt identical to the one Fenrir had used. From his pocket, he produced an Uhyre Key emblazoned with a serpent symbol and inserted it into the belt. "Henshin."
Purple flames surged around Simensen, coalescing into armor. Violet scales hardened into sleek body plating, sharp white spikes lining his arms and legs. A fanged helm formed over his face, its glowing white eyes crackling with electricity.
"Call me Kamen Rider Jörmungandr." Simensen flicked his wrist, summoning a sword shaped like a serpent's tail. "Shall we begin the show?"
Crap. Should he run? No—he could handle this.
Haken slammed his massive fists together and charged. In a blink, he was on top of Simensen, swinging a crushing blow.
But he struck only air.
Jörmungandr stood behind him.
How?!
Haken lashed out with his other fist—only to scream in pain as the blade carved into his hand. Despite his overwhelming strength, Jörmungandr effortlessly held him at bay. Haken watched in horror as the wound blackened, his stomach churning at the grisly sight.
"Did you know," Simensen said casually, "in the legends, the Midgard Serpent's venom killed the god Thor during Ragnarök?"
"Damn you!" His vision blurred as poison surged through Haken's veins. The blackened infection crawled up his arm.
Desperate, he charged again, only for Simensen to slash across his chest. Haken's monstrous form collapsed, his transformation shattering. Despite his massive framee, the venom had paralyzed him completely.
"Quite a successful test run," Simensen said, pulling out his key and returning to normal. "The power is… extraordinary."
"Please don't kill me!" Schinis begged, collapsing to his knees. "I can help! I have contacts—anything you need!"
"James, deal with this man," Simensen gave a bored wave, already turning to leave.
"No, please—!"
The bodyguard raised a pistol and put a bullet through Schinis' temple.
"Excellent. Dispose of both of them," Simensen said with a light chuckle. "They've polluted Bifrost's streets long enough."
Haken wanted to scream, to run, to fight—but he couldn't move. The venom had stolen his strength.
With cold efficiency, James pointed the gun at Haken's head and pulled the trigger.