The air in the Steel Talons meeting room was thick enough to choke on.
The flickering lumen strips cast jagged shadows across the faces of the gathered—less than fifteen, handpicked by the squad leaders, plus Kai and Lucent.
Trusted.
Or as close to it as anyone got in the Junkyard.
Lucent's voice cut through the silence like a blade, low and rough. "Believe what you want."
His scarred fingers tapped the steel table once, the sound sharp in the stillness. "We're only telling you what we've seen."
Echo's knife trembled in her grip. Not from fear—her hands didn't shake—but from something deeper, something colder. "If this is true," she said, her voice a razor's edge, "then we've just signed our own death warrants. If this leaks?"
A deliberate pause. "Myriad won't just come for us. They'll erase us. And they'll call it pest control."
The murmurs died instantly.
Karen leaned forward, her augmented arm clicking as she braced against the table. "That's the price of truth."
Her gaze swept the room, lingering on each face—Vey's ruined scowl, Rook's hulking silence, Pen's sharp-eyed watchfulness. "Everyone here was chosen because we trust you to keep this buried. Unless, of course, you want to be the reason the corps turn this sector into a crater."
She didn't need to finish.
The implication hung in the air like smoke.
Then Karen sighed, rolling her shoulders. "But we're getting off track. Blaze is the problem now."
She tapped a finger against the holoscreen, pulling up the grainy footage of the pyro's unnatural resilience. "Even if we pretend this isn't our fight, it is. He didn't just ask for Lucent—he told Kai to deliver the message to us. To the Steel Talons. He's not just expecting us to show up. He's counting on it."
Vey's augments whirred as he crossed his arms. "So what? We walk into the Red Dogs' den, guns blazing, and hope we don't get cooked alive?"
"No." Lucent's voice was flat. "The Scorchers want to drag the Red Dogs into this. This won't just be Talons versus Scorchers anymore."
The silence held for a heartbeat too long after Lucent's words—just long enough for the weight of them to settle like ash on their shoulders.
Then Karen shifted, her augmented arm whirring faintly as she braced her palms against the steel table. "Vey. Cale. Kai." Her gaze cut to each of them in turn. "Walk us through Blaze. Everything you saw."
Kai choked on the last bite of his sandwich.
Lucent didn't look at him, just slid a water bottle across the table without breaking his focus on the holoscreen flickering between them.
Vey didn't wait for Kai to stop coughing. "Put three rounds center mass," he growled, tapping his shotgun's barrel for emphasis.
"Slugs stopped mid-air like they hit glass. Then Pen dropped two tons of steel on his head—" A sharp gesture to the footage of the collapsing building. "—and the bastard walked out smiling."
Cale's fingers twitched toward his pistol, his usual smirk absent. "No glyphs. No conduit. Just—"
He snapped his fingers. "—fire. Like his fucking thoughts were the ignition."
Karen's jaw tightened. "So our pyromaniac's upgraded. Kai?"
Kai set the empty water bottle down with a click, his throat still burning. "The barrier's selective," he said, forcing his voice steady. "When Blaze casts, the flame tattoo on his left hand pulses. But when I hit him with Flashburn?" A pause. "Nothing. No deflection. No reaction at all."
The room went unnaturally still. Even Echo's restless knife went quiet against the table.
Kai swallowed. "Two possibilities. Either his barrier can't react to stimuli faster than his reflexes—"
"—or light passes straight through," Lucent finished, his eyes narrowing.
Then Vey barked a laugh, sharp and humorless. "So that's why you had me waste my flash rounds."
Kai grimaced. "I was going to test if Cale's shots could slip through during the glare. But then Blaze decided to redecorate the sector with that Skybreaker glyph, and—"
"—and he disappeared," Cale muttered, rubbing the fresh burn along his shoulder.
Karen exhaled through her nose, the sound sharp in the tense quiet. "So we know his shield has a weakness. Now we just need to exploit it without getting turned into charcoal."
Kai hesitated, fingers tapping restlessly against his Conduit.
"That's the problem," he admitted.
"For all we know, Blaze might've just been toying with us—letting the Flashburn through to mess with our heads." He glanced at Lucent, weighing his next words. "But... I don't think that's it. If his barrier only stops kinetic force, then energy-based attacks might slip through. Something like—"
"—rawcasting," Lucent finished, voice flat.
Kai nodded. "Exactly. But without Q-Serin, you'd be—"
"—fried from the inside out. Yeah." Lucent's gaze didn't waver, but something flickered behind his eyes—something that made Kai pause.
Then Lucent tilted his head, a ghost of something almost like amusement crossing his face. "Kid, are you a psychic?"
Kai blinked. "What?"
But Lucent had already looked away, his attention shifting to Karen.
A silent conversation passed between them in the span of a breath—a tightening of Karen's jaw, the slightest nod from Lucent.
Karen straightened. "Lucent and I will take point against Blaze."
Her tone brooked no argument. "Cale, Kai—you've faced him before. You're our backup."
Vey's augments whirred as he leaned forward, his ruined face twisting. "Hey, hey. At least let us in on whatever the hell you're planning."
Cale, uncharacteristically silent, just stared at Vey like he'd lost his mind.
Karen didn't flinch. "We'll brief specifics later."
Her fingers swiped across the holoscreen, pulling up a new image—grainy surveillance stills of a woman with ember-orange tattoos coiled up her arms, her rifle split clean in two by Pen's monofilament wire.
"This is Cinder," Karen said, tapping the image. "Another Scorcher. Pen—tell us what we're dealing with."
Pen's grin was all teeth, her fingers tracing the fresh scar along her cheekbone.
"Oh, you're gonna love this." She leaned forward, her monofilament wires glinting in the dim light as she launched into her story with the energy of a war veteran at a bar.
"So there I was," she began, hands moving like she was reliving the fight, "backing up these three chuckleheads—"
A jerk of her thumb toward Vey, Cale, and Kai. "—when suddenly, bam! One of my perimeter wires vibrates. You know that feeling? When your gut drops straight through the floor because something just broke your kill zone?"
She didn't wait for an answer.
"I ducked—barely—and felt this searing heat whip past my face." Her fingertip grazed the angry red mark on her cheek. "Missed my eye by half an inch. So I swung down, building to building, trying to get the high ground back. That's when I saw it—some kind of glyph hovering right above her rifle muzzle. Not on a Conduit. Not even carved. Just... floating there like it was part of the damn air. Like our Lady Mags was using but different."
Pen's hands mimicked the motion of the glyph spinning. "I thought, shit, playing defense with this psycho is suicide. So I went offensive. Sliced the whole goddamn rooftop out from under her."
A vicious smirk. "That's when I got cocky. Saw her rifle split in two and figured, easy win. But no—this bitch reaches into her pocket and pulls out a handful of coins."
She paused for effect, eyes scanning the room. "I thought she was gonna bribe me. Maybe pay for her own funeral. But no—"
Her voice dropped to a growl. "—she flicks these coins through that same glyph, and suddenly they're bullets. Superheated, hypersonic coins."
She slapped her scarred thigh. "See this? That's what happens when you underestimate a Scorcher."
Her hands clenched. "I was about to gut her, too. Had my wire right at her throat. Then—boom—Skybreaker hits, the whole sector shakes, and when I look back?"
A bitter laugh. "Bitch was saluting me as she fell backward off the building. Gone before I could even curse."
Silence.
Karen blinked slowly. "...That was... detailed. Thanks, Pen."
Vey rubbed his temples. "So let me get this straight—we've got Blaze, who eats bullets for breakfast, and now some coin-throwing maniac who turns loose change into artillery?"
Pen shrugged. "Pretty much."
Karen asked Pen. "So, Pen, do you want a rematch with Cinder?"
Pen cracked her knuckles, a feral grin spreading across her face. "Hell yeah I want a rematch."
Karen nodded. "Take two more—no soloing her. We still don't know their full capabilities."
Her fingers swiped across the holoscreen, pulling up an older surveillance still—a woman with ember-orange tattoos coiled up her bare arms, her knuckle dusters glinting under neon lights.
"Ember," Karen said, her voice flattening. "Second-in-command of the Scorchers. I faced her first. Lucent and Mags pulled my ass out of the fire."
The image flickered, replaced with newer footage—Ember now clad in reinforced gauntlets, the tattoos on her left arm obscured but pulsing with an eerie inner light.
"She's upgraded," Karen continued. "Before, it was just the knuckle dusters. Now? Those gauntlets pack enough punch to crater asphalt two meters wide."
She tapped her augmented left arm, the metal still dented from the impact. "Took the hit here. Still sent me flying a block and a half through a goddamn wall."
The room tensed.
"Mags and Lucent managed to wound her," Karen said, her voice dropping. "Shotgun pellets to the legs, slashes deep enough to see bone. But by the time we regrouped?"
Her jaw tightened. "The wounds healed mid-fight. Like her body was stitching itself back together. And the pellets—"
She mimicked them falling to the ground. "—just pushed themselves out."
Vey whistled low. "So we've got a tank who regenerates. Fantastic."
Karen's gaze locked onto him. "I'd love to settle the score myself, but this isn't the time for ego. Vey—assemble a squad. Heavy ordinance, containment protocols. You're on Ember duty."
Vey's augments hissed as he straightened, giving Karen a sharp nod. "Yes, Boss."
His ruined face twisted into something resembling a grin. "Gonna need the big guns for this one."
Karen exhaled, her fingers tightening around the edge of the holoscreen. "So we've seen three of the four Scorchers."
A pause. The image flickered to static—no footage available. "The last one? That's the one who most likely took the kids. I heard their screams right after facing Ember."
Her voice didn't waver, but the weight in it was unmistakable. "I couldn't break away. Not against her."
The admission hung in the air—not an excuse, but a fact.
A choice made in the split second between saving the kids and surviving.
She moved on before the silence could settle. "And after the Scorchers, we still have the Red Dogs to deal with."
Her fingers tapped the table, the sound sharp. "They don't have firepower, but they've got numbers. Rook. Echo."
Her gaze cut to them. "Your job is to hold them off while we handle the Scorchers. Once we're done, we regroup and crush them."
Rook's massive hydraulic arms flexed, the servos whining in anticipation. "Finally. We've been sitting on this Red Dog problem too damn long."
His voice was a gravel-grind, edged with something vicious.
Echo's knife stilled against the table. "Are we sure this is the best way to go about this?"
Her voice was quiet, but it carried. "Splitting our forces against both the Scorchers and the Dogs? That's a gamble."
Karen didn't blink. "It's the only play we've got. Unless you've got a better idea?"
Echo's fingers twitched toward the Myriad-branded conduit hidden in her sleeve—just for a second.
Then she leaned back. "No. Just making sure we're all aware of the stakes."
Lucent's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
Karen pushed back from the table. "Blaze gave us until midnight. That gives us sixteen hours to prepare."
She looked around at the assembled Talons. "Gear up. We move at 1800 hours."
She turned to Echo, her prosthetic hand flexing. "I need you to scout ahead. You've got the best eyes for traps and ambushes."
Echo's knife stopped spinning as she leaned forward. "Sector 20's a death trap right now. You want me to just walk in blind?"
"Take Nail and two rookies," Karen amended. "Fast in-and-out recon only. I need to know where Blaze's holding the kids before we commit."
A beat of silence.
Karen clapped her hands once, the sound cracking like a gunshot. "Any questions?"
The room held its breath.
Vey's augments whirred as he shifted, but even he kept his mouth shut.
Cale's fingers twitched toward his pistol, then stilled.
Echo finally nodded, tucking her knife away. "We'll get your intel. But if the Scorchers have the streets wired, we're pulling back immediately."
"Understood." Karen straightened, the holoscreen winking out behind her. "Meeting's done. Move."
As the Talons filed out, Mags remained—a silent shadow against the wall.
Her dark eyes locked onto Karen's, the unspoken question clear in their depths.
Karen waited until the last footsteps faded.
Then:
"Special assignment." Her voice dropped to a whisper only augments could catch. "Red Dog leadership. Wipe them out. Priority target: Gideon."
Mags' fingers brushed the steel talon sewn into her sleeve—her only acknowledgement.
Karen opened her mouth to say more, then stopped herself with a sharp exhale.
No empty platitudes.
No jinxing the op with false hope.
The two women exited together—Karen to the armory, Mags to the shadows.
No goodbyes.
Just the mission.
***
The fluorescent lights hummed overhead as Lucent and Kai navigated the Steel Talons' labyrinthine corridors, their footsteps echoing off the reinforced concrete walls.
The stale air carried the faint metallic tang of gun oil and sweat.
Kai shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing sideways at Lucent. "What are you going to do now?"
Lucent didn't break stride. "Sector 23. Our hideout."
"That place is probably cinders by now," Kai muttered, remembering the inferno they'd escaped. "What could possibly be left?"
"Most equipment, yes." Lucent's scarred fingers absently traced the edge of his conduit. "But not everything. And I've got nothing to prepare here."
Kai chewed his lip.
The truth of Lucent's words settled heavily—they were outsiders here, guests without resources.
His fingers twitched toward his own conduit before an idea struck. "Maybe... maybe I could borrow a gun here."
Lucent's pace slowed just slightly. "Not a bad thought. Relying solely on conduits limits your options."
His eyes flicked to Kai. "Question is whether they'd trust you with their weapons."
A dry cough echoed behind them, followed by the distinct click of a safety being engaged. "If you need iron, boy, you can ask me properly."
Kai spun to find the scarred old man from the meeting leaning against a blast door, his silhouette backlit by the flickering corridor lights.
Up close, the network of scars mapping his face told silent stories of decades of violence—a knife wound bisecting his left eyebrow, old burn marks creeping up his neck, a nose that had been broken too many times to count.
Lucent extended his hand with surprising formality. "We'd appreciate recommendations. I'm Lucent."
The old man's calloused grip engulfed Lucent's, his dark eyes missing nothing. "Haven't seen manners like yours since I can remember. Name's Jack."
His gaze shifted to Kai. "You?"
"Kai Renner." Kai offered his hand, noticing how Jack's fingers paused momentarily at the contact.
"...Renner?" Jack's brow furrowed momentarily before his customary scowl reasserted itself.
He turned sharply, gesturing down the corridor. "Follow me if you want the boy armed. What about you, Lucent? Need steel to go with that fancy conduit?"
Lucent shook his head. "I'll stick with what I know."
Jack snorted, leading them toward a reinforced hatch marked with decades of gang tags.
"Suit yourself. But down here?" He rapped his knuckles against the steel door. "Sometimes old-school lead speaks louder than all that aether shit."
The door groaned open, revealing a makeshift armory that smelled of gunpowder and machine oil.
Racks of pre-Aether firearms lined the walls, each weapon tagged with handwritten notes in precise script.
Jack moved through the cramped space with the ease of a man who'd spent more years with weapons than without.
Kai's eyes widened at the arsenal. "This is... not what I expected from the Talons."
Jack barked a laugh, running a hand along the barrel of a matte-black shotgun. "Kid, this ain't Talon issue. This is my life's work."
He turned, holding out a compact pistol with a well-worn grip. "Now let's see if you can handle real firepower."